All the Ugly and Wonderful Things by Bryn Greenwood Page A

took the shirt from her and went to hang it in my locker. While I rummaged around for a dry shirt, I could feel her watching me. When I turned around, she pointed at me and drew an X in the air.
    My tattoo. There I was with my shirt off and that musta been the first time she’d seen it.
    â€œIt’s a calumet. You know, a peace pipe, and the three arrows for the tribal districts. For the three Choctaw chiefs: Apuckshunnubbee, Mushulatubbee, and Pushmataha. Like my belt buckle. I got it after I left home. Went down to live with my granny on the rez. Hung around, thinking I was gonna … be an Indian or something. Pissed my granny off. She wanted me to stay in school.”
    The calumet’s pipe bowl was just under my left collarbone. The three arrowheads came up and touched the right. They crossed over my chest, all the way down to the bottom of my ribs. I never thought much about it, but it kinda embarrassed me. Not the tattoo, but trying to explain it with Wavy giving me the look that meant I was important. I got to blushing with her staring, memorizing me, so I pulled on the first shirt I could lay my hand to. An old uniform shirt from four years back when I first started working for Cutcheon, Jesse Joe embroidered over the breast pocket and tight in the shoulders. I buttoned it on anyway, because I felt strange having my shirt off now that Wavy had seen my tattoo.
    When I sat down at the desk, I saw what she was doing with the parts catalog. She’d gone through all my scribbly notes and filled out the order form. I drank up the rest of her pop while I checked it over. She didn’t get annoyed about that. Like she figured I was the boss so she needed to get my okay.
    Leaning on the desk next to me, Wavy ran her finger across the blotter calendar and brought it to rest on the seventh. At some point, just doodling, I’d drawn a heart around the number.
    â€œYeah, today’s my ma’s birthday. That’s why I took the flowers out.” Wavy still had her finger on the day, so I knew she was waiting for more. I was afraid to say anything else for fear I’d get to crying, when I’d managed the whole day not to. “Her name was Adina. She died four years ago. In the winter, but she liked the summer better. That’s why I take her flowers for her birthday.”
    I wiped my eyes quick and Wavy was polite enough not to look at me while I did it. She moved her finger down to the nineteenth and then brought it up to touch her chest.
    â€œIs that your birthday? The nineteenth?”
    Wavy nodded. That was rare, her telling me something I hadn’t even asked. She was usually more interested in finding things out, like with the tattoo. When I picked up a pen, she leaned forward on her elbows, waiting to see what I was gonna do. It needed to be big, to let her know I thought it was important. In big enough letters to fill the whole square, I wrote WAVY’S BIRTHDAY. She looked so happy I went back to the date and drew a heart around the nineteen.
    When I laid the pen down, she put her hand on my arm, like she trusted me. Then she stepped between my knees and slid her hand up my arm to the back of my neck. She leaned in so close, her cheek almost touched mine. I kept real still, like you would if a little bird came and landed on your finger. For half a minute, I didn’t even breathe.
    It wasn’t like me trying to hug her on the farmhouse porch. She’d done this herself.
    She pressed her chin into my shoulder, and then damned if she didn’t sniff my hair. I knew I had to be rank, but she sniffed at me like I was fresh as daisies. Exhaled in my ear, and took another deep breath.
    To leave her a way to escape, I only put one arm around her. She trembled so hard, I figured she was set to run away, so I loosened my arm to let her, but instead she put her other arm around my neck and pressed her bony little self against my belly. She was so small it kinda scared