Roses, Grandma and The Mystery

As Ace sat in the in the waiting area of his shop, he thought he could still smell a hint of burnt clothes on his t-shirt.  The smell had covered the apartment building like a blanket. He came to the shop early to escape the smell.  Some dumb-ass left his/her linen something too close to a burner.  Judd walked in with a pizza and a six-pack.
"I'd love some pizza, but gotta wait on the beer 'till after work." Judd smiled and nodded.  He is a man of few words, most of the time.  Today, he seemed wanting to shoot the breeze.  Just as he starts in on a story about his bike ride into the Dakotas and guy walks in off the street.
"Hey, can I get one today?" he asks.
"Sure, it's still early for most, and my first isn't until 7 tonight, so do you have something in mind?"
"Yep, the name of my grandma that just passed.  She was my touchstone."
"Okay. What's here name and where would you like it?"
"Just below my palm"
Ace always wondered if grandmothers were really more important than moms everytime he wrote a name.  He did think it was a wiser choice than a girlfriend or wife.  Grandmothers are forever.
"What's your name?"
"Jose. Jose Guapo."
"Ah," thought Ace. "Thus the name Maria."
Aloud he said, "Do you want something plain and simple, or something with a little flare to it? Tell me about your grandma."
As Jose began talking about his grandma, Ace started drawing out her name.  He used a simple font but curved the M so that it's tip curled around the rest of the letters and finished as a small rose. He showed Jose the drawing.
"Cool.  I like it."
So Ace began as he always did, cleaning the area and prepping his pen.  He started thinking about this fellow and his grandma.  He seemed out of place here.  A bit too clean cut to fit on this side of town.  Maybe he didn't live around here. So he asked.
"You from around here."
"Yep. Live at Maplewood."
"Oh, me too." And the small talk began.  Jose rambled on about how his grandma came from Puerto Rico and loved to cook for him.  "She made the best Roti of anyone."
Ace wanted Roti now instead of pizza and beer.
Once he finished the last curve of the rose, Ace noticed the slight movement in the curved line that lead to the rose.  He glanced at Jose who was just staring out the window. Looking again, Ace saw the rose quiver like a breeze from a fan moved across it. Ace looked up.  Jose seemed to be in a trance.
"Okay, Jose. You're all set." Jose jerked like he had just been startled.
"Thanks, man." And Jose drop a nice tip on him.
He'll be back, Ace thought. Sweet dreams, my latino friend...

Eyes without a face.

As Ace etched the series of roses on a rather hairy forearm of a biker, he kept thinking about the movement of the dragon on his left wrist.  His pen hesitated above the arm a bit too long.  Judd, the biker, coughed and brought Ace back to the moment. Constant as a headache, the rain drummed on the roof of the shop.  Ace finally finished the last stem that was a bit tricky because it ended at the elbow.  Judd was a regular customer. He said the roses are for his wife.  Ace hoped that they didn't break-up because covering one tattoo with another is particularly irritating for him.

Ace loved his work and hated trying to make one thing into another.  He went over to the stereo and carefully pulled out The Doors LA Woman.  The albums edges were a bit tattered and the red was fading in places.  Even with the plastic cover, time was taking its toll.  Carefully laying the needle on the record, Ace played "Riders on the Storm" while Judd was sitting around waiting with him on the leather couches in the waiting room.  They waited, drinking a beer and looking at the rain.

As he was standing at the window, the rain revealed a man walking past the shop.  He was trying to get out of the sudden resurgence of the storm by ducking under the awning of the shop. He stood looking out to the street as if he was searching for something.  With one quick turn, he looked straight at Ace. Ace unconsciously took a step back. He surprised himself and looked around, but by then the man had moved on.

Maybe it was the album, maybe the rain, or maybe it was the several skull tattoos he had done lately, but something about that moment and that man's eyes made Ace uncomfortable.

Shaking his head, and absently rubbing his tattoo on his left wrist, as if he was stroking the head and tail of the dragon, he stood looking at the wake of the stranger.

"Judd, I think it's going to be a long evening."