Matching ohana script tattoos on three wrists
Lettering · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo
Three people hold their arms together in a loose circle, each with the word ohana written in thin black cursive on the inner forearm near the wrist. The linework is fine and solid, with no shading, and the ink is a dark grey-black on light skin. The composition is tight, with the three tattoos at slightly different angles against a wooden floor and a pair of feet in the background.
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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction
Nalani counted the boats in Kaiwi Bay twice, the way her grandmother had taught her to count the net floats, touching each mast with her eyes. Four had come in on the swell. Five had gone out at dawn. Her cousin Kekoa's blue hull was missing from the line, and the wind had swung south-west, which meant the reef would be talking all afternoon.
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Tutu did not go down to the slip. She went inside, took three pieces of charcoal from the drawer by the stove and sat at the kitchen table, drawing the same word over and over on the back of an old feed sack, looping the letters until the paper went soft. Nalani asked what she was doing. "Making a rope," Tutu said without looking up. "Something for them to hold on to while they find their way."
Kekoa's skiff came in at dusk with the outboard coughing, towing a smaller dinghy with his youngest cousin sitting in the stern, wrapped in a towel and furious about it. Nobody cheered. Tutu handed out towels and cold rice, then pressed the sack into Kekoa's hands, tapped the word, and pointed at each of them in turn, the way she counted boats.
The sack hung by the front door for years after that. The charcoal had rubbed right through the weave in places, so that the word showed on both sides, backwards and forwards. Nalani still touched it on her way out each morning, and nobody in that house ever again went out on the water without someone else knowing the hour they meant to be back.
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