Traditional style tattoo of a pie slice with whipped cream and two candy corn sweets on a forearm, with darker black and grey tattoos around them.

Enlarged with AI from a smaller original

Pie slice and candy corn on a forearm

Traditional · Forearm · Mixed · Photo

A slice of pie with a whipped cream topping and two candy corn sweets sit on the forearm, outlined in bold black linework with flat fills of orange, yellow and cream. Darker black and grey tattoos, including a spiralled shape at the lower left and dark streaks at the top, frame the central motif. The photo is taken at an angle along the arm against a plain, dimly lit background.

Traditional Forearm

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The pumpkins had come aboard at Fayal, nine of them, rolling about the hold like drunk men, and by the third week of October the cook had used eight. Hetty Lusk kept her oven hot on the schooner Marigold in all weathers, and she said a crew that had gone without sweetness since Lisbon would turn on the officers before the Azores were out of sight. The mate said pie was no fit food for men hauling lines. Hetty told him he could eat his biscuit and be quiet.

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The candy corn was the trouble. A sack of it had been bought for a Nantucket cousin's children and stowed under the bread locker, and the cabin boy, Eli Tarrant, had been eating his way through it one grain at a time since Madeira. Hetty found him at midnight with orange fingers. She did not scold him. She took the sack and set him to sifting flour for the crust instead, and he sifted until the lamps guttered, and that was the price of his silence.

Cream was harder. There was no cow aboard, so she beat condensed milk in a tin basin with a fork until her forearms burned and the galley stank of scorched sugar. At eight bells the pie came out, a deep orange wedge on a chipped plate, the cream standing up in a stiff white peak. She set it on the captain's table with three candy corn laid beside it like ballast.

The captain ate in silence. Then he asked for a knife, cut the wedge in half, and passed one piece to the mate without a word. In the morning there was one pumpkin still in the hold, and nobody mentioned that Hetty had kept it back for the next port, where they would buy a fresh crate and a fresh quarrel.