I took his hand.
“I would have worked another job, borrowed money, or sold everything I owned.”
I looked at the bandage covering his arm.
“But I would never ask you to trade a piece of yourself for your future.”
Months later, Dustin showed me the completed cover-up.
Barbra’s portrait was gone.
In its place was a compass surrounded by mountain peaks.
“It represents moving forward,” he said.
I smiled.
“I like this one better.”
“So do I.”
As I studied the new tattoo, I realized the portrait had never been the real problem.
The hardest part was learning how easily Dustin’s own father had convinced him that his education had to be purchased with a piece of his body.
No parent should ever teach a child that love, approval, or opportunity must be earned through self-sacrifice.
The old tattoo could be covered.
The lesson would take longer to erase.
I could only hope Dustin would never again believe that his future required him to surrender any part of himself.
