Tattoo #9// Vinnie Hacker

#12: lost puppy

A month later, May 5th 2028

"So what's that part?" Tree pointed to a weirdly shaped object on the engine. She did most of the talking and Vinnie stayed guarded.

"That's a carburetor— it mixes air and fuel."

She placed her hands on her cheek, watching him use a wrench that ticked with each turn. Revealingly, his yellow car hadn't seen the light of day for many years, now it sat outside Vinnie's garage for heavy maintenance.

Tree's arrival must've changed that. "What about this thing?"

"That's a line to the coolant."

There was a prolong pause— the kind Vinnie didn't notice. As for Tree— she realized that it was midday and needed to ask before evening showed, "I was wondering if you could take me to my grandma's grave? Like today."

Vinnie's eyes soften with absolute certainty, placing his tool down, giving her a sincere look.

"I understand if you can't do that." She added, looking to the engine— refusing to make eye contact.

"No— we could go." He peered down to the clothes he gave her, "We could stop somewhere to get you something to wear?"

She laughed, fiddling with a metal hook on the car's frame, never looking up. "That would be great, actually."

"I'll clean up here and you could shower or something." Vinnie suggested. Tree nodded and walked away, Vinnie glanced with eyes that still loved her.

It didn't take long for them to leave but once they were out the gate and driving onto the main road, Tree relaxed in her seat— trying to recall the last time she felt free of everything.

Once she realized it was the night her and Vinnie coincidentally reunited in Puerto Rico, she turned her head toward him. Her gaze was finally detected by Vinnie.

He glanced at her— thinking she'd look away. He did it another time, this time Tree spoke up. "Do you remember when we saw each other in Puerto Rico?"

His eyes kept to the highway traffic.

"I should've left with you." She admitted, turning her face forward— staring into nothing as they continue to Los Angeles in silence.

After some time, Vinnie pulled up to a vintage store. Together, they hopped out and went inside. Tree immediately made eye contact with the store employee who sat at a register.

Tree approached a rack of clothing and Vinnie followed behind her. He watched her shift hangers to view the shirts and blouses. The store employee could tell the guy was tied to her— like a lost puppy.

"What do think about this one?" Tree whispered, Vinnie peered between the clothing.

"It's nice." He commented, allowing Tree to grab the blouse off the rack and head to the pants section. It took awhile longer but once Tree found her size and a manageable fit, they approached the register where the employee rung up her stuff.

"These should fit better than the ones you have on." The lady teased, holding out the bag of clothing. Tree grabbed it with no intent to make a remark— she stopped doing that in her marriage and everywhere else. Vinnie swiped his credit card, refusing to make eye contact or verbal engagement. In a sense— he was tried of conforming to a society that faked human interaction.

They walked out the store and got back into the car. As Vinnie buckled up, Tree held up her blouse. "I haven't worn something like this in a very long time."

Without warning she started to change her clothes, making Vinnie slightly uncomfortable but drawn to an urge that came and went throughout the time she stayed with him.

"There!" She exhaled, "Check the fit."

Vinnie looked over as she pulled down the visor to view her physical appearance. As she fiddled with pieces of her hair, Vinnie returned his eyes to the ignition and began toward their destination.

When they arrived, Tree didn't immediately get out— she wanted moral support. "You can come with me?" She pleaded with a hint of desperation.

He grabbed at his door handle too— indicating that he'd follow after her. They got out and submerged into pollen, trees, and gravestones. Along the way, she waited for him to catch up and laced her hand with his.

Together, they approached her grandmother's grave. Tree detached her hand and sat down on the ground, crossing her legs and staring at the engraved named:

Flora Tree Monett

Vinnie knew of the family name— and finally saw it with his eyes.

"She was like me— you would've loved her." Tree informed, trying to convince herself that Vinnie wasn't just following alongside her for no reason.

Vinnie sat beside her with lips that couldn't move.

"If I listened to her— things would've been much different." Tree was on the verge of tears once more, recalling the day her grandmother made a wish on a dandelion, "I told her about the night I met you— and everything we did."

She looked at him and immediately wrapped her arms around his waist, placing her chin on his arm. "Please say something to me— it's like you don't love me anymore."

He lifted his voice, "I can never tell when you're going to leave— or change your mind."

Tree didn't have a response because of the truth his words contained. Rather she laid her head on his shoulder as he mirrored back— like a triangle, holding each other up.

"I should've brought some flowers."

Vinnie replied, nonchalantly. "You should've."

Tree smiled to herself, refusing to make a remark.

On the drive back, Tree slept soundlessly as Vinnie glanced at her ever so often— he was a lost puppy.

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