Paint It Yellow

by López, Andrés G.

  Gabriel had thought about this quite a bit, especially after his conversation with Paul at Astoria Park the previous week. He still didn’t have an answer but he was willing to explore the question. “Well, it’s a long story, but now I know it’s because I was destined to meet you.”

  Helene put her hand on his neck and played with his wavy black hair. “That’s sweet, but, seriously …”

  “It’s complicated. I was tired of college, of school in general. I was depressed. I needed a break. And to forget about someone I was still in love with — Jennifer. I wanted to wander, make money, not worry about anything for a while.”

  Gabriel paused. “Should I go on? The truth is — I haven’t really figured it all out yet.”

  “Please tell me.”

  “Today, I stopped by the Dakota to pray for John’s soul and for Mandy’s. Mandy was the girl who awakened my heart back in grade school, who made me realize how beautiful it is to be alive. Eight days ago, I found out that she disappeared some years back. No one knows what happened to her and I’ve been … assuming the worst. And since today is the anniversary of John’s death, I felt the urge to go there. I didn’t expect to meet you or celebrate my birthday.”

  “Where were you the night John was murdered?”

  Gabriel reflected, as fragmented thoughts from that evening, like a kaleidoscope’s changing patterns, flashed in his mind. “With a girl, trying to forget Jennifer. I was helping my friend Clarissa with her English essay. I didn’t feel like celebrating my birthday, but that night with Clarissa dragged on. Then someone knocked on her door. Clarissa opened it and saw they had written ‘Lennon is dead’ on her message board. We thought it was a prank, but minutes later the entire dorm was buzzing with the sad news. And I felt sicker than ever. I went back to my room and cried for about an hour. I mean, what sick person could do something so evil? I missed Jennifer more than ever.”

  “You’re still in love with her.”

  “Yes, maybe.”

  “The same way I’ve never gotten over William.”

  “Yes,” replied Gabriel, pulling Helene closer to him.

  “And finding out about Mandy just made that other pain worse?”

  “Yes.” And not able to hold himself back, his lips sought Helene’s and found them waiting for his.

  In the lamplight, they kissed, therapy for two individuals with broken hearts. Though each had the urge to go further, they held back. The moment was too special to ruin and so, the tender kiss became a strong embrace before they separated. But now words did not come as easily. Like a child who has felt the thrill of riding without training wheels, Helene and Gabriel found it difficult to go back to talking as friends after kissing as lovers.

  “I know what we can do tomorrow,” Gabriel said.

  “I do too.” She sought his lips again.

  They kissed more passionately this time. Gabriel leaned back on the couch and brought Helene’s body toward his. He felt her soft breasts on his chest and stroked her hair with his hand. When the kiss was over, she rested her face on his chest. In the background, “The Long and Winding Road” played, each note easing their hearts, taking them back to childhood afternoons — playing on a swing set at dusk or hide-and-seek in the near darkness, with the sun falling slowly in the sky but never fully disappearing from the horizon.

  The two fell asleep holding on to one another. Not even the Colombian coffee could prevent it after Gabriel’s exhausting day. And Helene, fatigued by grief, fell asleep as though she were once again in her late husband’s arms, secure for the night and future.

  CHAPTER 19

  Gabriel’s eyes opened automatically at 4:25 a.m. This morning, however, he had extra time to get ready; he was in the city, only blocks away from work and the cab didn’t have to be out till six.

  The red glow of the stereo’s On button was the only light in the surrounding darkness. Careful not to awaken Helene, Gabriel slid off the couch and sought the bathroom. Leaving the bathroom light on and its door slightly ajar so that he had enough light to navigate the apartment, Gabriel went into the bedroom, found a blanket and tucked it around Helene. Still in a deep sleep, she pulled the blanket to her chin and curled up even more.

  The streetlights revealed little snow on the ground, but the rattle of the window panes told Gabriel that it was windy. It was a typical wintry morning when plenty of people would be seeking warm cabs. Gabriel wanted to shower and shave, but he didn’t have any clean clothes and thought it rude to shower without asking. Since he had all but promised Helene he’d spend the day with her, he thought of a quick solution. He’d take out his cab early, work the morning rush hour to pay for the cab and gas, then clean up at his father’s and meet Helene at Mario’s for lunch.

  Gabriel found a pen and pad on the refrigerator.

  Dear Helene: Had a wonderful sleep. Decided to keep Gibbs happy and drive the morning shift. Let’s spend the afternoon together. Please meet me at Mario’s at one; if you can’t make it, leave a message there for me. Gabriel.

  He placed the note on the kitchen table where he was sure Helene would see it, wrote down her phone number and tucked it into his shirt pocket, then shut off the bathroom light and stereo before leaving.

  Gibbs was more than happy to send Gabriel out early, so by 5:10 a.m., he was flying uptown with his day’s first fare and eager to make some cash — now he’d found someone who could help him spend it.

  By 8:40 a.m., Gabriel had more than ninety dollars in his pocket, enough to pay for the cab and gas and breakfast if he decided to stop for a breather. A few early rides uptown, then back downtown and two trips to Kennedy Airport with good tips ensured that he would have a lucrative day. But Gabriel’s mind was less on making money and more on what he could look forward to when he turned in his cab. Helene Hansen had captivated his soul and Gabriel replayed the moment he’d first kissed her. By nine o’clock, he felt exhausted, so he decided he’d sit by a hotel and look for a trip to LaGuardia, then scoot over to his father’s place for a shower.

  As soon as he pulled into the line at the Regency, he had a passenger going to LaGuardia. The young woman had little luggage and little to say, but she did fill his cab with an enticing perfume and ordered him to take the 59th Street Bridge and not the Triboro. Gabriel snaked his way through the Astoria streets he knew by heart, missing every red light and pothole, it seemed, and in less than twenty minutes was turned toward his passenger ready to collect his fare. The fare was only $7.90, but the woman handed him a twenty and told him to keep the change.

  “I hope the pilot knows his way to Miami as well as you knew your way here. Thanks.”

  Gabriel thanked her for the tip and smiled. He put his “Off Duty” light on and zipped out of the airport and onto the Grand Central. Twenty minutes later, as Gabriel undressed and prepared to shower, he was hearing it from his father for not phoning the previous evening to say he was okay. He apologized and explained that he had met a wonderful woman who was taking him out to celebrate his birthday. He also asked his dad to make him some strong Cuban coffee and told him he was having a great day moneywise. This entire exchange was in mile-a-minute Cuban Spanish. Daniel was forgiving, seeing that his son was all right and out there hustling.

  Before Gabriel left the apartment, he guzzled down two cups of the black sugary energy-filled elixir and out of courtesy, threw on some of the Brut cologne his father offered. Gabriel called Helene’s apartment but there was no answer and he did not leave a message. He wanted to wait and call again, but he thought he’d better resume his day so he could have plenty of cash to blow on Helene later. He thanked his dad and told him not to wait for him that evening or worry because he’d be fine — he promised. Gabriel took out the lucky twenty spot he’d earned for his last fare and placed it on the kitchen table under the saltshaker.

  At the El on Broadway, Gabriel found a businessman heading into Manhattan. While waiting at a light near Queensboro Plaza, Gabriel’s mind drifted to Mandy and the sombe
rness of the previous days again planted itself in his heart. In the middle of the bridge, traffic stopped abruptly and for several minutes, not a single car or bus could move. Gabriel felt the bridge’s lower deck rumbling from the movement of the traffic on the upper deck. Again, as when the RR train had stopped in the tunnel under the river, Gabriel felt a similar claustrophobia and nausea. He imagined the bridge collapsing beneath him, his cab plunging into the water. He saw himself drowning, straining for a hand that was just out of reach, a hand that could somehow save him. But he couldn’t reach it, so he stopped struggling, and as he was pulled away by the river’s swirling waters, he could see Mandy’s face, with a bewildered look, a strange gleam in her eyes.

  Just then, about ten car horns exploded and ripped him away from this frightening apparition. Gabriel could still feel her presence nearby as he whipped down Second Avenue toward 42nd Street.

  He was lucky to get back into the city by eleven o’clock, and without wasting time, he took advantage of the early noon rush. Typically, these were short fares, not worth much, but they would come in quick succession and usually, these passengers were generous tippers, grateful to have found an empty cab at that busy time. In a little less than two hours, Gabriel amassed almost fifty dollars, bringing him close to a hundred and forty dollars. It was the type of day cabbies dream about.

  At ten to one, Gabriel parked his cab in front of Mario’s. He was disappointed when the lanky mustachioed Italian waiter told him that Miss Hansen had called a half hour earlier and said she would not be able to make it for lunch but she wanted Gabriel to meet her at five o’clock at St. Patrick’s. “Right on the front steps, she said to tell you. Said she was sorry but had errands to run. You know how women are, sir. Always very busy in this crazy city.”

  Gabriel ordered coffee and two slices of pizza, ate quickly and plunged back into traffic. The more he drove and the more money he made, the less disappointed he felt that Helene hadn’t been able to join him for lunch. At 3:45 p.m., Gabriel dropped his last passenger at Penn Station and meandered back to the garage. After paying for the lease, he counted his money and hailed a cab uptown. He was eager to look into Helene’s eyes again, hold her hands and see her graceful smile in the warmth of the cathedral.

  Gabriel got out of the cab at Sixth and 50th and walked over to Fifth. Rush hour was in full swing and the sidewalks were packed with people leaving work. He walked briskly, almost in a daze, breathing in the cool air. With hands thrust into his pockets, Gabriel kept fingering the stack of bills he’d earned, as if afraid they might disappear. He wanted to blow the entire sum on Helene, to feel the thrill of spending the money he’d hustled for all day.

  After navigating the gridlock on Fifth, he walked around pretzel and hot dog vendors, countless pedestrians carrying packages, and cars planted in the crosswalk, then glanced up, and though it was getting dark, he recognized Helene on the top step in front of the massive central doors of St. Patrick’s. She looked gorgeous in her long blue winter coat and high-heeled boots. He saw that she had had her hair done at a salon, and it shone in the glow of the streetlights that had just come on.

  Her face lit up as Gabriel greeted her with a kiss and embrace. “Sorry I missed you for lunch. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.”

  “That’s okay. I was so busy it would have been foolish to stop for a long lunch. And I made pretty good dough today. Where should we go?”

  “We could browse Saks, go skating across the street for an hour and work up an appetite, then dinner at Pellegrino’s.”

  “Sounds great.”

  Helene reached for his hands. “Can we go inside first?”

  “Most definitely. I love this place.”

  CHAPTER 20

  St. Patrick’s Cathedral was quiet, not eerily, but with a peaceful, holy air. You could hear voices everywhere, though not distinctly, and all these voices blended into a low buzz, like a beehive. Though no formal mass was going on, the cathedral was crowded, especially near the gift shop where visitors bought souvenirs. People were sunk in prayer in various pews. Pious older women worked frail fingers through rosaries, and older men in long woolen coats kneeled in remote pews near the more isolated side aisles. Other folks congregated by the altar, admiring the beautiful nativity scene. Tourists looked every which way, enthralled by the magnificent architecture, stained glass windows and marble statues. And most of them made their way toward the grand, deep altar, or behind it, in the apse of the church where Christ welcomed believers to His house in the heart of Manhattan.

  Gabriel loved walking slowly around the cathedral’s perimeter, looking at all the details of this living work of art, smelling the incense and burning candle wax, watching people solemnly at prayer, feeling the sacred power emanating from its marble stones. Most of all, he loved the warmth from the large cast-iron radiators on either side of the cathedral whose heated air continuously battled the chilly drafts sneaking in from huge front doors that opened frequently as people came and went.

  Gabriel and Helene made their way toward the altar where they genuflected and crossed themselves before finding an isolated pew to kneel and pray — Helene’s thoughts were on her dead husband, while Gabriel’s were primarily on Mandy and Sister Beatrice. Though Gabriel had been plagued by doubt in recent years and his faith had eroded, he still found it easy to pray — for the souls of lost loved ones and the well-being of his friends, for the health of his parents and the safety of his brother and sister, and for relatives back in Cuba coping with Communist oppression. But he never prayed to God to help strengthen his own faith; in rare moments like these, he asked for no guidance. On this particular evening though, he did ask Christ to help him find happiness again.

  When Gabriel was through, he sat in the pew, tipped his head back and gazed at the vaulted ceiling. How wonderful it would’ve been to design such a fabulous cathedral. At Stony Brook, Gabriel had loved studying churches — Notre-Dame at Reims with its spectacular stained glass rose window or St. Peter’s in Rome — and he spent hours reading about Gothic buildings with flying buttresses, intricate corridors and unpredictable, even bizarre, features everywhere. He’d loved John Ruskin’s chapter “The Nature of Gothic” in The Stones of Venice, and reveled for days with thoughts about how liberating Gothic architecture had been for builders who were free to experiment, explore and use their imaginations and creativity. Gabriel closed his eyes and was instantly back in the library at Stony Brook, sitting across from Jennifer, reading Ruskin, Carlyle, Arnold and other Victorians. Perhaps he’d come to love these writers’ ideas because he’d read them while in her company. Perhaps his mind had been so clear and open to learning then because he’d been happy.

  Gabriel watched Helene pray and realized that she had a maturity that Jennifer hadn’t had, a self-confidence that magnified all her other physical charms. But the real difference between the two was how Gabriel felt near each. Around Jennifer, his heart had fluttered, his passion making him restless, even weak, and it took him a long time each evening they’d meet to relax and gain confidence. He needed her to be his and his only. He was jealous any time another guy, even a close friend she’d known before meeting Gabriel, would talk to her. Near Helene, on the other hand, he’d felt at ease from the very first moment, not burdened by any stifling desire to possess her.

  Sitting there in the cathedral, having just prayed for Mandy, thinking about his love for Jennifer and of how fortunate he was to have met Helene, Gabriel was stunned by his emotions. Mandy had awakened his soul, Jennifer had brought him happiness, and Helene, in the brief time he’d known her, had made him feel alive again, despite his sadness. Gabriel felt the presence of all three blend like ingredients in a mixing bowl, but couldn’t quite fathom why he was thinking about these things at church. Was God speaking to him? Or did such wandering thoughts illustrate just how far removed he was from his faith?

  Helene finished her prayers, sat back and leaned her head on Gabriel’s shoulder. “It is truly beautiful here
. I feel so free to express my feelings to God and ask for his guidance.”

  She turned toward him and he saw tears run down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I’m just very happy.” She paused. “Gabriel, I have a son, a beautiful little boy waiting for me back home in Minnesota. I was just praying for him. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but the time didn’t seem right.”

  “That’s wonderful. What’s his name?”

  “Edward James.”

  “And who’s he with now?”

  “My mom and dad. They promised to look after him till I could finish my degree and start a career.”

  “Let’s go walk,” Gabriel said, and the two left their pew for the side aisle and started toward the back. “You must miss him.”

  “Every single second of every day.”

  “So that’s also why you were so sad yesterday.”

  “Yes,” Helene said, choking up.

  “Are you going home to see him for Christmas?”

  “As soon as the semester’s over.”

  “Boy, am I going to miss you.”

  “But you just met me and I won’t be gone that long. I will need a ride to the airport … and you can send me off with a long kiss.”

  “Oh, so that’s why you wanted me around. Good, reliable cabbies are hard to find.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Helene said, “but also because I love your smile and how good I feel around you. And I know you’re reliable. Why else would you drive on your birthday?”

  “I wanted to make some money so you could help me spend it. And I wanted to get to my father’s place to shower, so I could sparkle when you’d see me again. Any way is a good way to spend your birthday, as long as you’re happy.”

  “And are you?”

  “To have met you? Hell, yeah!”

  “Careful, you’re still in front of a holy place.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. Let’s get out of here. We can go to Saks and buy your son some presents.”