Paint It Yellow

by López, Andrés G.

  “No kidding.”

  “Why don’t you read him something you like?”

  “He won’t sit through my romance novels. Says they’re filthy trash and they’ll only make him sicker.”

  On this point, Gabriel felt the grandfather was pretty lucid after all.

  “Even with movies, he always wants to watch something ancient — tonight it was Casablanca — I’ve seen it three times now. And he’ll sit through anything with John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart or Audrey Hepburn. Even musicals like The King and I. But he won’t watch something modern, like Jaws or Star Wars. He’s just living in the past. He’s trapped in it.”

  “Aren’t we all?”

  “Yeah … but you’ve got to fight it. My grandpa just makes everyone around him miserable. You should see how he treats his housekeeper, the nicest woman in the world. He yells at her for every little thing. Too much salt in the soup, too much dust in the bedroom.”

  Gabriel was headed up Central Park West to 96th where he would turn left toward Riverside Drive. “How’s his health?”

  “The doctors say his nerves are shot. He pays three different doctors to tell him the same thing. He fought in World War II, lost his hearing in his left ear from a grenade that exploded too close to him. He’s lucky he survived. My mom says the war changed him.”

  “That’s a lot to go through when your life’s on the line every second.”

  “Yeah, but you go on. You can’t hold everyone around you responsible for your personal misery.”

  “No … but you can be forgiving. He’s an old man and he fought for our freedom. Also, it must be difficult to grow old.”

  “I think I would be more sympathetic if he actually wanted to get better. What he suffers from, he says, can’t be cured.”

  Gabriel reached Riverside Drive, turned right and drove to 136th.

  “Just make a right here. I live three apartment buildings up the block.”

  “It sounds like your grandpa has had a tough life. I’m sure he appreciates you more than he lets on. Try reading The Great Gatsby without paying attention to the story. Let your mind wander. Or ask him if you can read some John Steinbeck for a change; he’s got a bunch of sad stories. Or maybe your grandpa needs to hear an elevating tale, like Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea. He’ll love that one. And it’s really short.”

  “Thanks for the suggestions,” she said. She paid Gabriel her $6.30 fare and gave him a two-buck tip. “Been nice talking to ya, Mr. Cabby. Have a good morning.”

  “You too. And good luck. Be patient.”

  Gabriel smiled and waved as she got out. Exhausted as he was and engrossed as he’d been in this conversation, he forgot to shut his divider. He waited till she’d disappeared through the double doors of her run-down building before pulling away. It was now 2:50 a.m. — three hours before the cab was due back.

  CHAPTER 28

  Gabriel thought he’d head to the Plaza, nap on line and finish his shift with a trip to Kennedy. If he got to the airport by 4:15 a.m., he was certain he’d have the cab back by six. But thinking about his adventure the previous morning made him uneasy. Stopping by a hotel did not guarantee an airport run. Sure, he’d made good money on that excursion (and more than he would have going to the airport) but soliciting prostitutes from his cab was not legal. Yet what were the chances that something that bizarre could happen again?

  He drove south on Riverside and turned left on 96th. Instead of turning right onto Broadway and traveling south, he made his right on Columbus. He had a hunch he’d find a passenger there and he was right. About three blocks before the Museum of Natural History, he saw two men with their hands held out for a ride.

  Gabriel pondered — Friends? Lovers? Business partners? It was hard to tell. The first entered quickly and slid behind Gabriel. The second took his time getting in. He wore a heavy sweatshirt, its hood covering most of his pale face, like the Grim Reaper.

  “C’mon man, shut the fucking door,” the first man said.

  Gabriel immediately regretted leaving his divider partially open. But before he could react, the second man slammed the door shut with the force of bricks crashing on concrete, grabbed the divider and yanked it all the way open. “Fourteenth and Avenue C. Yah know where that is?”

  Gabriel nodded. He knew exactly where Avenue C was; he’d been told by several cabbies not to go there. It was near the East River and a Con Ed plant in a neighborhood with sprawling housing projects and deserted streets, a desolate place where one could easily be assaulted.

  “Speak up, Mr. Cabdriver. I can’t fuckin’ hear you!”

  “Shut up and sit the fuck back,” the first man said.

  The hooded one did not sit back. “Leave me the fuck alone. I hate fuckin’ cab drivers. They’re all fuckin’ assholes. They see ya freezin’ your nuts off but they never stop for ya. Fuckin’ bastards! I’d love to kill one of ‘em. Hear what I’m saying man?”

  This last question was for Gabriel.

  “Sit back and shut the fuck up,” the first man repeated. “This one stopped. This one’s taking you home, asshole!”

  “Nah, nah … this one here’s just like the rest. He was gonna pass us by. I know it.”

  “But he didn’t, fucker.”

  Gabriel’s heart pounded like a galloping horse’s hooves hitting the dirt. He glanced in his rearview. The hooded passenger had taken out a knife and leaned forward, so close that Gabriel could feel his hot breath on his neck. Gabriel thought he might be drunk but there was no alcohol smell. He’s high on something, Gabriel thought. His muscles tensed, anticipating the blade piercing his neck or back.

  “I’m not gonna tell you again,” barked the first man, “sit the fuck back and leave the driver alone!”

  This time the command worked. The hooded one sat back without saying another word. Gabriel breathed a little easier, though his whole body remained tense. He wasn’t going to Avenue C — he couldn’t risk it. His only chance was to signal the police somehow, alert them that he was in trouble. But if he used his bright lights, the hooded passenger might notice. He considered slamming his divider shut and locking it — berated himself again for leaving it open — but he didn’t want to let on that he was afraid and besides, he might not get it closed.

  Gabriel glanced at his watch. It was 3:20 a.m. The cars on the road at that hour, with few exceptions, were cabs and police cruisers. The only other vehicles visible anywhere were garbage and delivery trucks. And though at night the police were lenient toward cabbies and didn’t pull them over for minor infractions, Gabriel felt that being pulled over might provide his only chance to get these creeps out. He gradually sped up, glancing in his rearview. His passengers did not seem to notice. With all those green lights ahead of him, Gabriel was soon doing fifty miles per hour.

  His next thought was to take a red light, but he decided against it. He wanted to get these guys out of his cab, not kill himself, or anyone else. He continued to speed up; sixty miles per hour and he passed two parked police vehicles.

  “Could you slow down a bit?” said the man sitting behind Gabriel. “It’s getting rough back here.”

  Gabriel slowed down.

  Then the hooded one began again. “I’d love to kill myself a cabby. I hate fuckin’ cabbies. All cabbies should die.” He turned to his buddy. “If he don’t slow the fuck down, I’m gonna let him feel this blade.” He didn’t lean forward in his seat while he spoke, but this time his partner didn’t tell him to shut up either.

  Though Gabriel’s heart still raced, an explosive anger surfaced. How dare this fucking, lowlife scumbag threaten me like that! He thought about ramming his cab into a light pole or parked car. If he’d carried a crowbar in his cab like Sal did, he knew he would’ve used it that instant. And though he wasn’t ever violent, he could imagine himself smashing this jerk’s head like a Halloween pumpkin.

  Gabriel pulled off Broadway and continued downtown on Seventh without his passengers noticing. Broadway would have been
the quickest route to their destination, but he decided not to go past his garage, which was located on 21st near the corner of Seventh. He thought about going the wrong way down 21st, a one-way that would not be busy at this hour. He hoped fellow cabbies would realize something was wrong and help him. Fortunately, Gabriel didn’t have to execute this plan, for just as he stopped for a red light, he saw a police car turning onto Seventh, checking the registration and inspection stickers on parked vehicles. When Gabriel’s light turned green, he floored his Impala diagonally across the avenue, pulled up beside the police car and honked his horn. Then he turned toward his passengers. “Get the fuck out of my cab now! Get the fuck out!”

  He slammed the divider and locked it so the hooded nut wouldn’t try anything — he hadn’t forgotten the gleaming knife blade. The hooded one was so shocked when he saw the cop car next to them and the bewildered cops staring at him that he kept his mouth shut, got out and walked away. Gabriel wanted to get out too, to jump on him and pummel his brains in till the drugged-up fucker bled to death.

  “I said get the fuck out of my fucking cab now!” Gabriel yelled at the first man.

  “But we’re going to pay our fare,” the sane one said, not budging from his seat. “We’re going to 14th and Avenue C.”

  “Not with me. Now get the fuck out!”

  Reluctantly, the passenger crawled out and joined his doped-up friend on the sidewalk. As soon as he did, Gabriel locked his doors, waved to thank the officers and sped down the block. When his heart finally stopped racing and he realized his life was no longer in peril, he put his “Off Duty” light on and returned his cab.

  It was 3:55 a.m. Gabriel paid for his lease, sprinted to Helene’s apartment, locked the door and jumped into bed fully clothed. He’d had enough of that early morning insanity and promptly fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 29

  When Gabriel awoke at 2:30 p.m., he was well rested. The frightening episode of that early morning seemed light-years away. Sunlight snuck in from every crevice in Helene’s bedroom; even the shades, pulled down to the sill in the front two windows, couldn’t keep out the brightness and healing heat. Gabriel looked at the photo of Helene and Edward James, closed his eyes for some minutes and said a prayer for Helene’s father. He wondered where Helene was that very moment, longed to be by her side.

  What a strange three weeks this had been, certainly the strangest period in Gabriel’s life. Before running into Mr. Jones, things had been moving along at an even pace, his routines were set, the days passed quickly with little time for reflection. The only important task was finding a fare, keeping his cab full of passengers. But learning about Mandy had made him question his own life.

  Who is Gabriel Brosa? What was he born to do? The past imprisoned, the present fascinated, and the future frightened him. And Mandy seemed to hold some magical key to his psyche — if he could find out what had become of her, he could discover who he was, what his life was supposed to be about.

  Gabriel stared at the ceiling as if studying the intricacies of Michelangelo’s art in the Sistine Chapel, but instead of beautiful hues, he saw a white expanse, the colorless canvas of his life, and suddenly he missed his mother. He hadn’t spoken to her in three months. How could he be so negligent? His mother had done so much for him — sacrificed to send him to private schools, provided him with money for every one of his whims. But he had not forgiven her for sending him out of her house — even though he knew she’d done it out of fear that if he’d stayed he would’ve eventually fought with her second husband. He frowned, thinking how abandoned she must feel.

  After her divorce from her second husband, Mercedes had sought refuge with her mother in Miami, to find solace for her aching heart. Mary had joined Mercedes initially, but then she’d returned to New York and gotten a sales job at the Queens Mall and an apartment in Maspeth. Gabriel had stayed in touch with Mercedes while living with his father (he and Paul called her at least once a week during that time) but since Gabriel had moved into his own place, which of course had no phone, he’d lost contact. Perhaps he felt so lost these days because she was no longer by his side. She’d always made him feel important, given him strength and spiritual guidance. How could he ever have doubted her love? That moment, he decided he’d call her on Christmas Day. He missed her and everyone else who loved him. He yearned to be near them and realized he needed some time off from driving.

  Gabriel leaped out of bed, dressed and headed up Seventh toward Ann Corp. He knew this would be hard to do but was determined to try.

  “You’re kind of early today, kid,” said Gibbs. “The afternoon cabs aren’t in yet. I’ve got one comin’ at four.”

  Gabriel didn’t hesitate. “I need a few days, sir. I had a close call last night … would you miss me much if I took off till after New Year’s? I’ll be back on the second.”

  He braced himself for Gibbs’s nastiness, but his boss surprised him instead. “Sure kid. I can spare you for a few days. You know you’re one of my steadiest drivers.”

  Gabriel was elated, but this seemed way too easy. “Thank you, sir. Have a great Christmas.” Gibbs was still staring at him. He leaned forward.

  “Buddy told me you came back upset this morning. We’ve all had a close call. It’s part of the job. There are some real sick people out there.” He lowered his voice. “That’s why I took this clerk’s job. I couldn’t drive anymore. You’ll know when you’re done. Take some time and think about it.”

  Gabriel couldn’t have been more shocked. He just nodded and was soon out the door, relieved and breathing the cold Manhattan air. An hour later, he entered the familiar gates of 112 Park where years earlier he’d spent countless hours each week playing sports, hanging out with friends, falling in love with girls. Maybe someone there knew something about Mandy.

  The sun lay low in the sky as Gabriel surveyed the handball courts where the junkies hung out at night. Just beyond the courts were swings and slides where neighborhood kids came to make out, chat about school and sports, and smoke cigarettes and weed. Gabriel walked down the slope to the brick shed that housed the bathrooms and served as storage for athletic equipment owned by the city. He had often heard that several eighth grade girls and boys had done it for the first time in this building. Kids talked about how it was the perfect place to make it, how the attendant was fooled into leaving the heavy lock open so that kids could borrow basketballs and play hoops way beyond dusk.

  Gabriel sat on a cold bench with love messages carved on it from years gone by. The tall bare trees around him swayed in the breeze; his nose and cheeks tingled. Outside the park gates, cars and taxis zoomed down Crescent Street toward the Queensboro Bridge. In the distance, some youngsters tossed a football. But the sounds in the park were disappearing fast as dusk approached. Gabriel felt colder, but as his mind faded back in time, a pleasant memory came to warm him, one he’d forgotten, till these naked swaying trees found it again.

  It was early February, during eighth grade; Gabriel was roller-skating toward an empty net, slapping a puck into it, taking advantage of the midwinter thaw to perfect his hockey skills. Then he saw Mandy crossing the park on her way home. He skated toward her, then stopped when she turned. She had such an uncanny power over him that just glancing at her face was enough to freeze him in place, make him forget his own name and what he was doing. It was just a long month and some days since the December dance when they’d shared some intimate moments, but it seemed more like years had passed. Gabriel hadn’t spoken much with Mandy since the night of the dance.

  She smiled. “You’re skating late tonight.”

  “Just getting ready for next season.” Gabriel turned and lifted the puck into the nearby net. “It’ll take at least six months to break in these Chicago skates.”

  “They’re real nice. Get them for Christmas?”

  “Yup. My old ones are pretty shabby. They say these are the best. But they’re super stiff. Think I prefer rubber to metal wheels. But who can argue with Sant
a, right?”

  “You still believe in Santa?”

  “Course I do.”

  Mandy laughed and thrust her hands into her pockets. Her red cheeks glowed in the twilight. “Well, I have to get home for dinner. See ya tomorrow, Gabriel.” She turned toward the gate.

  “Hey Mandy, mind if I … keep you company? I gotta little time to kill. We always eat late.”

  “Sure. But these streets are pretty rough on skates.”

  Gabriel picked up his puck (a worn roll of electric tape) and glided beside her. “That’s exactly what they need, a little breaking in.”

  It was only four city blocks to Mandy’s house. Though he wished she was his girlfriend, Gabriel realized for the first time that he could be happy just having her as a friend. What mattered most was having someone so beautiful nearby; when she was around, his world was magical; it vibrated with heavenly music.

  Halfway through the trip, Gabriel got the courage to bring up the subject that for days he’d avoided thinking about. Now the words poured out of him. “Congratulations on going out with Matt. You couldn’t have picked a nicer guy.” He paused, and then added with conviction, “I really mean it.”

  Mandy stopped and turned toward him, her eyes sparkling with tears. “Thank you. That is such a sweet thing to say.”

  Gabriel found his eyes tearing too, but before Mandy could notice, he lowered his head and resumed skating. A block later, she stopped again. “Gabriel …” Her voice was so soft that he had to skate back to her to hear. “Can I share with you something I’ve never shared with anyone else?”

  Gabriel stopped in front of her and nodded.

  “I’ve had a crush on Matthew Jones since fourth grade, since one stupid morning he got yelled at by Sister Marie for keeping his desk messy. I felt so sorry for him, but he just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. I think I fell in love with him that instant. He didn’t go to our school dance because he was visiting relatives. When he asked me out in January, he told me he liked me for a long time.”