Red Ink

Light flooded through the window’s curtains and washed onto the hotel’s beige carpet. The flowers on the comforter stretched out towards the brightness, desperate to reach the sunshine. A groan came from under the sheets followed by a moan from an unknown guest. Aaron froze mid-stretch. Usually, he liked to sleep alone, in his own bed, and in his pajamas, not naked.

Aaron suppressed a sigh and slowly slipped out from between the sheets. Walking to the bathroom, he picked up his clothes and shoes and quietly closed the door behind him. A quick shower woke Aaron up from his drowsiness but as usual, did not restore his memory of the night before.

After drying off, Aaron rose his arms and searched his chest for any ink that didn’t belong there. The man’s sternum was bare, as he liked it. Aaron turned side to side, counting the tattoos on the side of his ribs. Three on his right, four on his left, all black and gray. Aaron grinned, smacked his abdomen and dressed in last night’s clothes: a red V-neck t-shirt, black slacks, and black dress shoes. “Where the fuck did I…?” Aaron rolled his eyes, ran his hands through his thick, curly hair, and stepped out of the restroom.

Sitting upright in the bed was a pale-skinned red head who was pulling her hair into a bun. Aaron turned his head, avoiding eye contact and looking at her bare skin. He started to sidestep to the exit until he realized his belongings were not on him.

“Morning, Mike.”

Aaron slouched. “Mike…” He turned on his heel and looked in the direction of the woman, but not directly at her. “It’s Aaron,” he responded. “I need to go, I have work soon.” Aaron began to walk towards the cheap night stand, avoiding the confused stare of the woman in the bed. He reached for his phone and wallet but was quickly grabbed at by a small hand.

“Hold on, you lied to me?” Aaron finally looked at her. As usual, the person in the bed was hurt, confused, angry. Her grip tightened. “Last night you told me your name was Mike Vaughn and you didn’t work because you have some kind of trust fund.”

Damn that’s specific, Aaron thought. “Look, you’re not wrong but you’re not right. I need to go now.” He broke the grip of the woman and turned to leave. Out of pity, Aaron stopped at the door before opening it. “I am really sorry, Daisy,” he said reaching for the handle.

“It’s Rose, you ass.”

Aaron shrugged. Closer than last time.

The sun was right overhead, blinding the streets of the city. Aaron stepped outside and looked around. “Where the fuck did I end up?” He pulled out his phone, groaned at the dead screen, and walked the streets of Tucson, Arizona while looking for a bus stop. Once he found one, Aaron sat in the shade with his head in his hands, disappointed with himself as usual.

“Hangover?” a stranger asked. He was in a similar position as Aaron, water bottle in hand.

“Good God, I wish.”

***

Once back in his apartment, Aaron stripped off his clothes and kicked them into a corner that was piled with assorted clothes. If he tossed the clothes that he was wearing in the trash like he had before, Mike would just end up buying them again. Keeping them in the corner was the better money saving option.

After plugging in his phone, Aaron got dressed for the second time, but now in jeans and a t-shirt with a name badge on. A quick snack and Aaron was ready to leave for work. He grabbed his phone, realizing he had notifications on the screen. A majority came from his boss, declaring him late for work. The clock read 12:47 P.M.

“Crap, man!” Aaron dropped his phone and ran his hands through his hair. “I am so fucking late, crap.” Jamming his wallet and keys into his jeans, Aaron started for the door but stopped when a stinging sensation arose from the right side of his ribs. Aaron lifted his shirt and looked down at his tattoos.

The black and white owl at the bottom of the rib cage was twitching her way to the sternum. Each flap of the tattooed wings pricked at Aaron’s skin. The feeling resembled the touch of a tattoo gun on the skin for the first time. Pain hammered Aaron’s side causing his breathing to falter. The pain shifted with the moving tattoo until it finally hit the sternum. The owl closed her wings and perched on Aaron’s solar plexus, shacking out her feathers.

Still holding up his shirt, Aaron caught his breath and stared down the owl. He watched it blink a few times and the bird finally shut her eyes. “Margaret,” Aaron whispered. The owl finally opened her eyes, revealing a bright red hue.

Margaret pushed down the shirt and smoothed her hands over it. “Goodness, I am so late!” She sang. She ran out the door, locking it behind her. Margaret hopped down the stairs of the apartment complex and out to the streets. She ran down the sidewalk towards the guitar shop where Aaron worked. After a quick jog, Margaret skipped into High Desert Guitars, pushing her hair out of her face.

“I’m here, John, I’m so sorry.” She trotted up to her boss. “I don’t know what happened last night, I just-“ Margaret touched her face. “My glasses, I forgot my glasses. I’ll be right back, I can’t work without my glasses.”

“Margaret.” John grabbed at Margaret’s arm and tapped on the badge that read Aaron’s name. “I need Aaron, not glasses.”

Margaret nodded her head, her short curls bouncing. The hammering sensation returned to her chest, moving the owl tattoo back to her original resting place at the bottom of her ribs. John grabbed at the shirt covering the tattoos, watching the red ink in the owl’s eyes disappear. John dropped the shirt and slapped Aaron’s stomach. “Good.” He looked up at Aaron. “Aaron, right?”

Aaron nodded his head, his curly hair moving slightly. “Yeah, sorry man, just kind of freaked out when I saw all your messages.”

John just waved his hand and turned to a guitar he was restringing. “It’s been slow today, so no big deal. Just don’t let that phone die again.”

Aaron stepped behind the counter and started fiddling with the store’s computer. “Mike never went home last night. Honestly, I have no idea what happened, but of course he didn’t bother to wake up this morning, leaving me in a mess again.”

He started his simple daily work, trying not to think of the woman he left naked in the hotel. As long as Aaron didn’t encounter any stress, he should stay himself and not have to encounter any alters until the end of the day.

***

Back at home, Aaron dropped his things onto the kitchen table and slumped onto the couch. His chest and head ached from the brief, yet frequent, visits he encountered today. Being yelled at by an unhappy costumer caused eight-year-old Tanner, a fish tattoo, to appear. He stuck around until the man left and then Samantha, the butch salamander, came about and began to pace around angry and frustrated, refusing to voice her thoughts and staying passive aggressive.

Aaron rolled onto his side, flipped on the television, and closed his eyes, exhausted and not wanting to do a thing. He got lost in the background noise and was about to drift off to sleep when his cell phone blasted an annoying ring tone. Fearing it was his boss again, Aaron sprung up and grabbed at his phone, reading the number: 520-794-2646. It wasn’t one Aaron recognized, so he shut off the sound and went back to lay on the couch.

Slumped back into his comfy position, Aaron was ready for a long nights rest. Just as he was closing his eyes, a stabbing pain reared its head onto Aaron’s ribs. He jolted forward slightly, used to but still hating the sensation. The shirt that hid the various tattoos was pulled off and tossed onto the carpet of Aaron’s messy apartment. He watched the nightly ritual of his black and white fox tattoo stand from his natural sitting position, shake out his fur, and swagger over to the center of the chest. Mike, the fox, puffed out his chest as he took a seat right on the solar plexus and fluttered his eyes until the shade of gray ink turned to red.

Mike shot up off the couch and tussled his curls with his hands. He pulled back his hair, tight and slick against his head and started searching for a hair tie to keep in place.

“Alrighty, alrighty, alrighty, Aaron, where did you put all of my things?” Mike went to the corner where Aaron liked to drop all of the things that he bought to better improve their lives. He dug through a pile of slacks, dress shoes and shirts, sport jackets, and ties, all the things Mike loved to wear and all the things Aaron hated.

Mike found a hair tie, braced his curls back tightly, and then removed Aaron’s day clothes and put on his own night clothes, slacks, a dress shirt, and a tie. Mike grabbed his phone, his wallet, making sure it was full of cash, and left the building for the night.

***

“Well, I can buy you a drink, babe.” Mike wiggled his eyebrows at the beautiful woman sitting at the bar. She was young and flirtatious, looking for any drink to fly into her hands. Mike slapped his phone quiet for the third time tonight in the bar. The number that was pestering Aaron earlier in the night was now bugging Mike. He didn’t want the person on the other line tonight, he wanted the pretty little girl that he was buying a drink for.

“Here you go, baby.” Mike leaned in to the girl, ready to whisper in her ear.

A shadow loomed over the young woman and with it came a booming voice. “Michaela?” it asked. Mike pulled back from biting at the girl’s ear and was face to face with a square jawed, muscular man. “Who’s this?” Mike stepped back from Michaela and who Mike assumed was her date.

Michaela bounced off the bar stool and into the arms of the man. “This is just a nice gentleman who bought a drink for me.” She spread her purple colored lips and grinned up at the man. “I’ll go get us a table, Thad,” she sang as she skipped off.

Big Thad smiled as his girl left the bar, then glared down at Mike. Mike stood his ground until his breath started to falter. Stabbing sensations broke out where the fox sat and spread out to where the tattoo of a sheep lay. Not breaking eye contact, Mike held his breath as he felt the two tattoos change places, the fox sitting on the ribs, the sheep now grazing on invisible grass with its red inked eyes.

Tad stared down Dan, who was loosening the tie around his neck. “Stay away from us,” Tad breathed.

Dan nodded his head, his small, curly ponytail bouncing. “Y-yes sir,” Dan sputtered out in his thick Texas accent. “W-won’t happen ag-again.”

Tad’s eyes widened in confusion at the sudden change in behavior but moved on. Dan fell onto the nearest barstool, shaking in his dress shoes. Very quietly, he asked for a small glass of ice water from the bartender and then pulled out his phone. The clock read 11:56 and there were two missed calls, a voicemail, and five text messages, all from 520-794-2646. Dan assumed the person who was trying to contact the phone owner was a woman, based on the language being used in the texts.

Dan was far too shy to interact with anyone in person, much less over the phone, so he pocketed the cell, paid the barkeep, and left to go home, where he hoped Aaron would wake.

***

Aaron tossed his cell into a drawer and slammed it shut. He was tired of seeing the same unknown number brighten his screen. He didn’t know if this number was connected to any alters, but he knew if it was they were ignoring it just as he was. Aaron turned his back to a customer and pretended to care about unpacking an acoustic bass. In reality, he was counting down the tattoos on his chest, trying to find the culprit that could be connected to the number.

Aaron knew that it couldn’t be Tanner, considering he was only eight. He kept to himself unless he was being confronted uncomfortably. Samantha the salamander who was always above Tanner was the one who contacted women and was never contacted by them. She was the persistent one. The owl, Margaret, never interacted with people outside of work. On the other side of Aaron’s ribs was Mike. The fox sat high and mighty right above the shy sheep, Dan, who was above Maxwell, a sneaky rat. No woman has ever connected with either man on any level.

The last tattoo was a highly detailed black and gray wolverine. He was always curled up in a ball, his nose hiding on his tail. Aaron never bothered to learn what the wolverine had named himself. He only visited when Aaron’s anger was maxed out. The wolverine was an unrealistic man who did as he pleased. Aaron tried to keep him glued to his rib cage, never wanting an impromptu visit.

Aaron searched his memory, checking to see if the tattoo has been awake recently. It was pointless doing so; until Aaron was back in control, he was unaware of some alters coming and going and had no idea what they did while they were around.

“Hey, Aaron.” Aaron turned to face his boss, John. “Do you know her?”

John pointed out the store’s front window towards a woman who was staring inside. Aaron didn’t recognize her at first glance, but he did notice that she stared at him intensely. “Never seen her,” Aaron muttered looking away. The woman lingered outside for a while, pretending to look at the guitars and amps, but obviously glancing up at Aaron frequently.

Aaron’s chest thumped with pain at the bottom right of his rib cage where he could feel the tattoo rat stretch his tail and crawl past the other animals up to the sternum. Aaron didn’t bother to watch Maxwell’s eyes change from black to red but rather focused on not looking at the woman outside.

John let out a sigh from the other side of the small store. “She left, Aaron,” he breathed. Maxwell turned and glared at John, his nostrils flared. It took a second for John to realize that Aaron wasn’t around at the moment. He studied the most recent alter, looking for signs of who it could be. He noticed Maxwell’s shifty eyes, moving about the expensive music equipment. He knew that Maxwell was hard to deal with, so until Aaron returned, John kept a close eye on his coworker, making sure he didn’t try to pocket anything.

After a slow day of work, Maxwell finally crawled back to the bottom of Aaron’s chest, leaving the center clear of ink. Aaron turned to apologize to John but was stopped with a wave of the hand. “I’ve known you for 6 years now Aaron. And I’ve known your different personalities for just as long.” John smiled at his coworker. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

***

“Mike?”

Aaron had just left High Desert Guitars, walking down the sidewalk towards his apartment. He kept his head down and walked at a steady pace. He didn’t know if the woman was referring to the fox with the bright red eyes that lived on his rib cage or a different Mike, but he didn’t want to know. Aaron pulled out his phone to look busy, to look uninterested. He tapped at the screen and stopped in his tracks.

“Mother….. Fucker…..” The phone was dead.

“Hey Mike,” the woman from before who was looking in the store window caught up with Aaron and grabbed at his shoulder. “What’s going on?”

Aaron awkwardly shrugged off the woman’s hand. “Hey,” he said. He looked the woman up and down. She was beautiful at first glance and even more breathtaking when face-to-face. The woman was fairly short with dark curly hair that mimicked Aaron’s. Her brown eyes were magnified under the rim of her glasses and her freckles blended in with her dark skin.

Aaron had no idea who this woman was.

“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” she said.

Aaron waved the phone in his hand. “My cell is dead,” he coughed out.

“I’ve been calling and texting you for a few days now,” the woman replied. “I’ve been worried about you, you’ve been saying you wanted to see me again.” The woman grabbed at her purse and started digging for her phone. “Maybe I just wrote down your number wrong.”

“Hold on, are you 520-794-2646?” The woman perked up and nodded, bouncing the ringlets on her head. “Yeah, I’ve been getting your calls and texts.”

The beautiful smile that seemed plastered onto her face dropped. “Oh,” she breathed. “You have?”

“Look, I’m not Mike, I’m Aaron.” The woman dropped her shoulders. “Hey, hey,” Aaron didn’t want to see the beauty fall from this woman anymore. “He didn’t give you the wrong number, it’s just-”

“Did you just lie to me about who you are?” she snapped. “You’re not Mike but you look exactly like him and we’re pretty close to where we first met.” She gestured toward a local bar. “And, you live like, right here.”

Aaron never knew of Mike letting a woman know where he lived. Mike always took women to a cheap motel. “Listen, uh,” Aaron felt the fox tattoo whip its tail. “Ashlee?” The woman responded to the name. “I am Mike, but… ugh, how do I put this.” Aaron didn’t know Ashlee like Mike did but he didn’t want to lie or disappoint her like he had to with Mike’s other adventures. “Mike and I share a body?”

Ashlee stared at Aaron. The way he phrased that sounded fake and questionable. “Look…” He kept trailing off, extremely uncomfortable, trying to describe his relationship with Mike and the other tattoos that lived on his chest. “Uhh…” Aaron lifted his shirt revealing the alters and pointed at the gray fox that was pacing the rounded bones. “That’s Mike.”

Ashlee reacted just the way Aaron thought she would. She rolled her eyes and scoffed.

“Why didn’t you just say so?” she asked. Aaron wasn’t expecting that.

Ashlee rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, revealing a baby blue snake on her right forearm and a black one on her left. The blue snake was coiling up and down the woman’s skin. The black one was dormant, curled up and sleeping. “Bipolar,” she said. “My ‘ups,’” Ashlee raised her right arm. “And my ‘downs.’” She raised her left arm.

Aaron was in shock. “I really liked meeting and spending time with Mike,” Ashlee said. This shocked Aaron even more. “But can I buy you a drink this time?”

Ashlee extended her hand. The blue snake looked up at Aaron as he reached out to grab the welcoming hand. The snake danced around excitedly, as did the tattoos that lived on Aaron’s chest.