SkinMarvin Gay Stories

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Chapter 11

"Before we go into town, Buster, we need to tell you a few things," began Charlie. "You didn't get this skin clobber for free. Deck and Gobbo here are the newest lads in the team before you and they 'obtained' the gear for you. We didn't have the dosh to buy it, so they, eh, just 'took' it." Anthony realised that the gear he was wearing was most probably stolen.

"Now, Buster, you gotta pay us back for the gear. We're runnin' low on supplies so we're takin' you into town to obtain the necessary," said Charlie, "and to show you Jimmy's studio, in case you want any more work done at any stage. Now we'll get you to the bank and you can get what's in there and pay us back whatever way we choose."

Anthony knew he had no option but to raid his and Rachel's bank account.

"OK, Charlie, I'll give you what I can from mine and my girlfriends account."

"No, Buster, you'll empty it, and then you're goin' shoppin' for us," was what Anthony was told.

Anthony felt very very self-conscious as he got on the bus into town with the other skins. To the outside world he looked just like the rest of them but this did not stop his heart racing within his chest. He could not believe how mothers kept hold of their young kids when the skins were about, or how older people avoided eye contact with the gang. It also didn't escape his notice that throughout the day three or four times he would catch some teenage lads looking longingly at the group, probably wishing that they were part of it.

When he got to the cash machine, he turned pleadingly to Charlie. "Look, half of this is my girlfriend's money, Charlie," he pleaded. "Up to you, Buster. She ain't your girlfriend anymore, remember. But either way, you gotta 'pay' us for kittin' you out and makin' you look like a man, after all we kitted you out, didn't we?" Anthony reluctantly put his card into the machine. He let out a sigh when he saw that Rachel had been shopping again, and left him only about 150 pounds. He withdrew the lot.

"That's all I have, look," he implored.

"That'll be OK for starters, Buster," said Charlie. "Now let's get to the offlicence."

Charlie and Anthony went into the offlicence while the others waited outside.

"Now, so as you appreciate where your money's goin', Buster, you're goin' to buy the lads what we need, wiv your money, like."

"What do I have to buy?"

"You're to go to that counter and buy 12 cartons of Benson and Hedges."

"But that's a total waste, Charlie."

"Do it, Buster, take your hard-earned and get the ciggies for the lads, they'll appreciate it."

Anthony never believed he'd be buying cigarettes in bulk for anyone - ever. But here he was carrying out plastic bags full of them.

"Right, Buster, leave 20 quid over and give the rest to me. I'll get the booze in. Special Brew as usual for the boys."

Anthony was left with 20 pounds in his new bomber pocket. That was the sum total of what he owned at that point.

"This is all the money I have left, Charlie, how will I survive?"

"You're part of our family now, Buster boy, and we'll mind ya. Leave it all to us."

"I don't even smoke, Charlie," said Anthony ironically. Charlie looked at the ground and just smirked.

"Right, lads, lets go see what Jimmy's up to."

A walk through the town and ten minutes later they were in Jimmy's tattoo studio. Anthony had never been in one before and the memories of the morning were still fresh in his mind. He didn't want any more tattoos, that was for sure. He cowered near the door when he saw Jimmy again.

"Oi Lads, got the new boy with ya?"

"Yeah, but you fuckin traumatised him this mornin, Jimmy, look..." Charlie grabbed Anthony's arm and yanked him towards the chair.

"Come on, Buster, prove the lads wrong, take a seat, you're hear to pay me for this mornin's work," ordered Jimmy. Anthony didn't get what was going on. "Now I get to choose what I put on ya. It's my payment for doing the work this mornin. All those tats you got this mornin were Charlie's and Nisbo's ideas. Now I get to add mine..." Anthony's heart sank.

"OK, Jimmy," said Charlie, "but remember he's a skinhead now and whatever you do needs to keep him reminded of that."

"It will, mate, just you get him in the chair, and you'll see..."

Charlie lead Anthony over to the tattooists chair. It was clear he was going to be inked for the second time in six hours.

Anthony had long since given up the fight. He got in, looking thoroughly dejected. Jimmy, instead of getting his tattoo equipment out, began to write out a few words on a sheet of paper.

"Oi, Charlie, I reckon the new lad needs to get practice askin' for an inkin' of his own, don't you."

"Not a bad idea, you writin' his script or what?"

"Yep, whaddya think?"

"Excellent idea, James, my son, excellent. And a fuckin' good choice too. Will that be an expensive one for our Buster?"

"I'd say about 20 quid will see me right..."

Anthony sighed. Not only was he to get yet more ink, but they were going to make him ask for it himself, and take away his last penny.

"Right, Buster, tell the nice tattooist what you want done. Nice and loud and clear so we can all hear ya," said Charlie. The other skins looked on, grinning from ear to ear. Charlie then handed the hapless victim the prepared sheet. "Nice and convincin', like, Buster."

Anthony took the piece of paper and began to read.

"Oi, Jimmy. Thanks a lot for the work you did on me this mornin', mate...(howls of laughter from the skins)....I've really got the fuckin' itch for ink now, mate.....(a cheer from the crowd)......Know what I'd really like, Jimmy?"

"What's that Buster?" asked Jimmy as if he didn't know, nodding to Anthony to continue.

"I'd really like to get a traditional skin tat, like...(Anthony never spoke like that normally, he was reading exactly as the script told him)....I was thinkin a pair of boots tattooed on my..." Anthony broke off. He couldn't finish reading out what he was told to.

"Go on, Buster, tell Jimmy where you want the boots inked on.."

"I can't, Charlie..."

"Awww, go on,....." said Charlie, bringing a knife out of his bomber pocket, with a big mocking smile.

Anthony gulped and began to read again. "I was thinkin' a pair of boots tattooed on my.......face like a pair of sideburns."

"No sooner said than done, my son," exclaimed Jimmy delighted.

"But not really..."cried Anthony. "I was only reading what I was told. Of course I don't want it done..."

"Seemed pretty sure to me," said Jimmy. "Don't worry, some skins have second thoughts about nice tats like those, you'll love em really when they go on."

On cue, Nisbo and Deck got behind the chair and held Anthony's head back in place, exposing his cheek for Jimmy to work on. Anthony was to become even more unrecogniseable. The tattooing began. Almost an hour later, Anthony had a large boot on his cheek, the top of which began at the top of his ear, and the foot part stretched across his face like a sideburn.

As the skins could see that the second one was almost finished, one of them whispered in Charlie's ear, who with a wry smile whispered in turn in Jimmy's ear. "No problem," said Jimmy.

As the vaseline was being smeared over the new tats, another note was handed to Anthony in the chair.

He resignedly read it out.

"Oi, Jimmy, thanks mate. I could do with a big fuckoff ring in me nose, don't ya think?"

"Well as a matter of fact, yeah, mate. I can do that for ya, no problem." Hold him in place nice and tight lads.

Jimmy cleaned away the tattoo equipment and wheeled over another trolley.

"What size do you reckon, lads?" Jimmy held up rings of varying thicknesses to the jury of skinheads, knowing full well they'd pick the thickest ring. They did.

"Yeah, good choice. Right Buster, deep breath." Jimmy pierced Anthony's septum purposefully slowly and with a thicker gauge needle than a first piercing should be. Oh well, the swelling would look good on him for a day or two.

"Nnnggghhhh."

Jimmy put the ring through the piercing needle. "Just let me get some super-solder for this ballbearing. Don't want the lad taking it out too soon, do we, men..."

A whiff of chemical up Anthony's nose let him know that the gluing agent wasn't a jest. The ball was wedged in. A huge cheer went up around the studio.

"Pay the man, Buster, then we'll let ya see the new you." Anthony handed over his last twenty pounds.

Anthony looked as miserable as Charlie looked delighted. "There now, Buster, how does that feel. You're skint. Just like a true skinhead. And better than that, Buster lad, you're dependent on us now."

"I don't know what I'm going to do."

"You're goin to stay with us lad, and we'll get you a job more suitable to ya than bein a cop, that's what you'll do." Anthony knew that he had no option.

Jimmy swivelled the chair round to the mirror. Anthony literally didn't recognise himself - the boot-sideburn tattooes were so heavy looking (to say nothing of the new septum piercing) that they changed his whole appearance. Anthony was finished with completely.

Surely that was the last change, thought Anthony. Surely the nightmare was over.

But there was one more change to go........

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