Sheltered Ink

Beginnings come from the end of journeys we assume stopped at a road we did not see prior to leaving; another set of trails starts where we left. All veins meet the same heart.

A simple plan is the complexity of consequence. The arrogance of a lion is his jungle. While running from the last run I abandoned in an attempt to get away from my sneaker steps I picked up a job at the local would be bodega if the owner believed in hookah hoses.

"What is your name child?"

"Ophelia...."

"Do you have a green card?"

"No...."

"I will pay you with green paper."

"What is it you need me to do?"

"Everything you can; I need you to maintain my sanity."

"What about being here makes you feel this way?"

"Every moment I am here I think about how somebody is watching me constantly. I cannot get away from them and I never met them in my life! I come here to be honest and they do not trust me so I am inside of their unseen eye."

"You wish to see the face that spies?"

"Yes!!! If you can do this for me I will give you everything I know."

"That to me is better than any job."

"You really mean that?"

"I will prove it. What we say is just a sound."

"We speak with our actions....."

His store is the catastrophe of a runaway merchant that found organization of obsessive compulsive disorder to be aestheticism. I adore him as family, the word others in the city used for their dearest associations of business better than the currency that comes from relation.

"You can call me Uncle Moe, if anybody asks you can tell them you're my niece. I will call you Jo, together we make the Mojo."

"Uncle Moe....who is that man who comes here the morning after the thick newspaper to pick up the one you save for him?"

"I'm not sure....I just do it cause he asks me and every once in a while he buys a silk scarf for the women he goes out with. The scarves are from Indonesia, handmade, dyed, woven, and silk with different designs. I order them especially for the ladies that go to church."

"I assume he does not attend a religious service..."

"I don't think so...unless the religion is about cheating on his wife."

"Who is his wife?"

"Think she's the lady that sits in the office over between Madtown and Cocoa Butter."

Manhattan and Harlem barely touch except for a broken hook the police will not turf; the lion is crowned in the jungle.

"Next to that convenience store where they sell the colorful plastic gun belts?"

"The vinyl holsters......right next to the gap. There is a sign that has a picture of a wooden hammer on it with the instrument we use to weigh the Chinese medicine...."

Scales...

"She is an attorney?"

"Listen Jo I don't think it's a good idea for you to go over there anyways. I rather you stick around where we can find you just in case. You know I need you here at the store to do those things you do and you know how I feel. At least everybody else does. You should know how I feel!"

He feels my safety is his safety; whatever I do in the store reflects his integral inspiration over the environment he chose to provide for fair trade.

"Moe I am going to go over there and introduce myself. I want to get to know her. I think it's a good idea to know an attorney just in case....like you say it's better to be safe than sorry."

American English is a coy derivative of another land's native logic of word play; the way he spoke to me I considered to be a literal chase around what is difficult to speak without a mouth for a heart.

"Okay when you do meet her please bring this to her."

The scarf which lays in the safe untouched, wrapped in tissue cloth, a magnetic glow radiates off the depiction of Arabian horses; he unlocks the hidden ring portion which touches a sensor of an alarm the size of a Russian drill sergeant with a cone that makes a dunce look stupid right next to the shy sign outside the brick enclosure. This particular piece of silk is a perfect geometric square imported from Iran, the color is various shades of wine surrounding a fire similar to one a romance would find except this flame is much more brilliant.

"When should I go?"

"How about now?"

"Now?"

"We're closed.....it's already that time on the clock. You didn't notice? We finished early and everything is cool."

Time is neither quick or slow for my second home; I adore the place as my own.

Outside the door a hooded skater grinds the rail, barely missing the fire hydrant as a stomp guard; this cat is crazy.

"Zoomy!!"

"Sunny!! I added an extra lock to your bike; it's a cable guard the construction worker with the pink hat cut for us."

"Beegee?"

"Yeah he was singing that song about keeping it live too."

Staying alive is the business we venture into for keepsake.

"Hey I am going to check out this lady off the glock trigger."

"Damn then we better take You Know Who with us."

You Know Who is the official name of the thickest chunk off the ebony tree a lumberjack could of rolled with Chucks on his feet; this man is the size of a poster with LED lights on Broadway.

"Hey monkey see and monkey do. We better be heading out that way before we get caught in sticky glue. You know how they love their arts and crafts."

A step of his trunk sized Roca wear me til the jumpers beg for the jeans leg is the pedal of me and the kick for the better of myself. While we pass by the display of curses for various suspects of the tagging menace without murals to beautify the ugly city, a motif of two dark faces side to side as one profile breaks the three of us into a stump.

"It's my monkey boys! Looks a hell of a lot like the hell of you too. Damn I wonder who did this...."

While we both look at each other realizing how much we bear the likeness of spray paint a half man to panther with eyes shining emeralds sits above them as the dark angel with wings for retractable claws.

"There's You Know Who! Hey man it's You!"

We never saw him shed a single tear before besides the tattoo underneath his left encircled leaf.

"I'll be damned and dark..."

"All at once?"

"Together like one happening right?"

"That's what's happening..."

"Then we're happening with you."

"We all got the same affliction."

"That we do....you think they coming after us?"

"Yeah for sure."

"No doubt..."

"This here probably the last walk this block will allow us. We got to figure this shit out soon. I'm going to remember you guys even if they fuck with my head I will remember us on the wall for the women's shelter."

She is a massive armory patrolled by black style; not a person passes through the door without encountering a real to the stay of life Seraphim. Next to her strong body a sliver of white walled gray as thunder cloud glass stands to the side of her shoulder; wonder if she cries on the elbow.

"This is for you..."

A jogging suit made of velour cobalt blue ties up her stray do into a bun for a 59FIFTY Yorker...

"Thanks for the hat..."

"No problem....except for one."

"What's that?"

"My Uncle needs a lawyer."

"What's happening?"

"He's got a shop. This guy comes in to pick up the newspaper every morning after the Sun and he is real suspicious you know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah I know exactly what you're saying. He's got that vibe about him. I know somebody like that too."

"You do?"

"Yeah really tough to stay away from him though."

"Why is that?"

"Can't explain....I'll show you if you're really interested."

"I am..."

"Me too.....you can stay with us if he's real shady. We got a room in Hightown outside the missionary."

"The Rasta House?"

"Yeah that be us Mon!"

"I'll take you up on that offer. You guys must be the window with the lion and the dragon tapestry..."

"Yes...."

"You're the dragon and the lion?"

"Yeah!"

"You must be the Statue of Liberty."

"How did you know?"

"You got a torch by your door!"

"That's me...I got to run."

"That's what we do..."

"What's that in your hemp satchel?"

"This is from my Uncle. I'm not sure if I should show it to you here though. When you come see us we will give it to you then...."

"I understand that....make sure and take the left by the kennel. There's a lot of tar stuck on the streets tonight."

We do for her guidance while we watch a set for the pit swallow from a fountain.

"I think they drowned."

"We know how that is...."

"Yeah....what do you think it's like inside that shelter?"

"Let's go..."

"Can we walk through the front door?"

"Right around the corner, why not?"

Cats smile the earth for us while we tread through the marble center row; cats prowl the stained glass windows with frowns for weapons.

"You two our gargoyles for the evening?"

"We won't be able to sit still."

"Then you will be our bats."

"Is this a cave?"

"The deepest in all of the Brook."

Up the spiral staircase aside from the assortment of refrigerators is an abandoned elevator with a caged door designed by daisies with umbrellas. Spaces with curtained entries give the level a serene domino effect; if a piece topples we all fall over. We look at one another acknowledging rubies and amethyst must meet back in the middle for the gemstone. As I take to the left a woman catches me before the slip....

"Be careful honey there's a mess of paint."

The color is beige; a room covered in Sharpie marker writing summons my sensory projection.

"She kind of went.....mad."

"What does it say?"

"Something about a masked mouth, strings, and a ring."

"Who was she?"

"She's still around....she sort of reminded me of one of those dogs with the blue eyes in the snow....you know what I'm talking about?"

"Yeah I know what you're saying."

"She looks just like them. I don't know where she came from. Said she was looking for somebody but she could barely remember who they were.......she was mad about a ring too. Somebody took it from her. Real handsome lady......damn she took off running too. Something really spooked the life out of the kid."

"Kid??"

"She couldn't be all but seventeen or eighteen. She reminds me of you....."

"What was her name?"

"I called her Coney..."

"Why?"

"She reminds me of Coney Island for some reason. Used to play there on those sharp rocks when I was little. One time a man came chasing me saying he was going to make me a woman and I jumped on the highest stone."

A pause never stops us...

"Then what happened?"

"He tried to climb it and fell back. The rocks cut him open all over. His blood spilled into the water and a big gust of wind brought the ocean to carry him away."

"Can you take me to where you were at?"

A pause never intimidates either of us....

"Yeah I can."

"Let's go...."

"If you paint this room for me...."

"What!"

"Damn right get to stepping. There's some overalls over there. Your size too.....she got them..."

"Who?"

"The snow puppy with the blue eyes. You listening to me at all? You need to remember...."

Fits perfectly....

I lather the room faster than the shower I take before I meet him on Malcom X for the microphone check; I make sure to get behind my ears.

"You done already? I got my parka. Let's go..."

Chained to the tallest one way set of six light flash reflection on the black water street is my ride; the FBM masked murder of pavement and aluminum alloy.

"That's your ride huh? We going to take that over there?"

"Yeah..."

This question shocks my obvious stance; how else we going to get anywhere?

"What's his name..."

"Quasimoto..."

"Like the rapper?"

"You know about him?"

"Yeah...you remind me of him."

"Really?"

"Yeah....."

Sitting on the bars of the pretty boy gone ugly is a downy puffed vacuum I peek through the suction under her left arm to see the street.

"There goes that crazy fool on that bike again!"

"Seems like people know you around here. They going to miss you..."

"Where am I going?"

"Where I come from...."

"Where you come from?"

"Where you going...."

"How am I getting there?"

"In a white car..."

"I hope it's German or Japanese."

"It's a fucking Ford."

"Damn!"

Screeching sideways on the curb to a back 180 axle with a jimmy I looped just at the moment to catch her....

"You strong but that don't mean I like you or nothing. You better put me down boy!"

I laughed....

"Over there huh?"

"How did you know?"

"You didn't see that?"

"See what?"

"Come on I'll show you...."

We scurry into a fast trollop lightening our bodies as newborn infants with wings, maybe there really is a Cupid somewhere out there on the edge of New York shooting arrows at the target visiting the bay to pick up one of his lost feathers.

"You would really like her too..."

"Who?"

"Damn you starting to piss me off! You better get to thinking about what you doing boy! I am telling you right now homey if you don't get your mind straight I ain't going to tell you the name of the town you be going in that damn piece of shit car!"

"Lady you think I'm excited about that enough to want to know the name of it!"

"Listen here brother you need to know the name of the damn place because you will be damned not to know. Since you about to be a damn play thing for some damn fat cat about to blow up like a damn lard bucket you need to know this shit so you can tell them where you at!"

"Tell who?"

"The people that going to be looking for you!"

"Why would they look for me?"

"They need you to give them the secret."

"What secret?"

"Don't play stupid with me boy! You act stupid but you ain't dumb. You mad mojo too! You got to get together to make the thing happen!"

"What thing?"

"You need to spoon feed that chubby cat until he pops! When he do we will all be healthy. You got that? So you want to know where you going or what?"

"Alright where am I going...."

"You going to where people lose their eyes and ears."

"That's what will happen to me?"

"When you figure out where you at you going to see and hear again..."

"What about everybody else there?"

"You going to see and hear everything...."

"What about you?"

"I'll be waiting...."

"Where?"

"Down the street...."

Distracted by the distance of the shelter to the rock we sit upon I stare at tranquility searching for the part of me that drifts into the sea.

"What caught your eye when we was about to head over here?"

"Oh nothing...."

"Must of been something....you knew it was here that it happened."

"Just this...."

Butterscotch turns into gold as I untangle a chain into the palm of her hand.

"This here is the necklace I wore when I was a baby. Got the name of an angel on it..."

"What's the name?"

"Going to be your name when you get there..."

"I don't want to go there."

"You got no choice. We got to get back to the shelter now. You know they got a curfew and they going to be upset with you for taking me out."

Slowly I am tapping up the rod iron loops of the twist into the main corridor. Being a perfectionist with decent intention I decide to critique the paint job I hastily slabbed onto the Sharpie walls.

Damned as I am a set of blue ink phrases in Olde English calligraphy dreams into me...

Enigma is my affair

I dream of her hair

Every moment I am here

Love can never be

Hate will never feel

Deeper than the sea

Inside of me

I will chase the nightmare

I will be all for her

Just to be near

This is why I am here

I am coming for you

I am going for you

I will do

As you do