Paint It Yellow

by López, Andrés G.

  “I’m so glad you made it, Sal. I owe you so big. If it wasn’t for you, Janie’d still be slaving for that lowlife. I started rehab on the third. Fixing myself up. Getting off the drugs. Made myself that promise. Thanks to you. I’m sorry you got hurt so bad.”

  Nancy took Sal’s face in her hands and kissed his lips. Sal took his reward for rescuing these maidens from the fat monster and grinned. Since the last time Sal had seen her, Nancy’s injuries had healed; there was renewed life in her eyes and some of the youthful glow had reappeared. It was also nice to hear she’d sought help and was determined to stay off drugs. The road to full recovery would be difficult but she had already made some progress.

  “Well, I hurt them pretty good too, believe me,” Sal said. “Just didn’t expect an ambush, a knife at my back, but I should’ve. I shouldn’t have drunk that much either. That’s where I went wrong. The booze slowed me down. Janie and I were almost out the door.”

  As Nancy and Sal conversed, Janie introduced herself to Gabriel and Paul and told them about her return to LIC to finish senior year. Unlike Nancy, Janie was not hooked on heroin and had only occasionally snorted cocaine with Tommy. The challenge would be staying off the booze and away from dance clubs where she made easy money off drunken, sleazy men.

  The two sisters had bonded over their mutual grief and vowed to start over, to find an avenue back to normal life and away from men who used and abused them.

  “The only thing I’m worried about,” Janie told them, “is passing the math and science Regents. Think I can manage everything else.”

  “I can help you prepare for those,” Paul said. “They’re my best subjects. Be glad to tutor you after baseball practice.”

  “I’d love that,” Janie answered. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”

  “None at all,” Paul responded. “Let me give you my number.”

  “Are you going back to school too, Nancy?” Gabriel asked.

  “Haven’t yet decided. Mom’s trying to get me a job where she works at MTA. Janie and I are back home to help her out. Janie’s gonna work part-time at Maureen’s Candy Store, after classes at LIC.”

  “Wow,” Gabriel said. “I remember Maureen’s. Remember Sal?”

  “Yeaup,” Sal said and nodded. “Sure do. That’s where Nancy here caught my eye, while getting licorice — her favorite candy.”

  “Can’t believe you remember that,” Nancy said.

  Gabriel’s mind flooded with memories of St. Pat’s, old friends and Mandy. “We practically lived in that candy store.”

  When Sal’s father and sisters arrived, with Mr. Bernstein right behind them, sporting a broad smile, Nancy and Janie said goodbye. Gabriel and Paul lingered to greet Rodolfo, Laurie, Clémence and Bernstein, but soon they also hugged Sal, said their goodbyes and left.

  CHAPTER 45

  Father

  The morning of Sal’s release, Gabriel had decided to work. It was a Friday, a good money day, and he felt that Sal needed time alone with Julia and his family. Sal’s godfather, Giuseppe, had come up from Florida and planned to take Sal back down next week, after he was interrogated by detectives at the 13th precinct. Fat Tommy was in police custody and the bouncer, Big Tomas, would have to have his kneecaps reconstructed at month’s end; the bartender who’d stabbed Sal was still upstairs, out of his coma but immobile with a broken neck.

  When Sal left the hospital, there were gifts from the ICU staff and from his family. Jacob bought him an 18-karat-gold chain with a one-inch crucifix, which had cost half his monthly salary. Sal’s father and mother bought him the finest leather jacket they could find at Macy’s (Sal’s bloodied leather, a piece of evidence from the Caliente’s crime scene, was in police hands for analysis). And Giuseppe slipped Sal an envelope with a thousand dollars in it (ten Bens, Sal’s favorite bills). Julia gave him an IOU, and he knew from experience how great those were.

  Perhaps the most touching gift of all, and one that Sal would always treasure (and wear from that day on, alongside Jacob’s crucifix) was a silver miraculous medal of the Virgin that Dr. Strauss, a pious Catholic, wore for divine guidance whenever he entered the operating room. Dr. Strauss felt that Sal’s recovery was nothing less than God’s work and wanted Sal to take and treasure his prized possession so he’d remember that all the capable mortal hands alone could not have saved him. Sal’s eyes filled with tears when he’d received this gift, and when he reached in to hug Dr. Strauss, he whispered, “I’m sure they were pulling strings up above. But don’t forget that you’re the man. I’m glad it was you who walked in the room to stitch me back together. Bless you, doc. Bless your precious hands. You were my angel in white.”

  Dr. Strauss was a humble man who always felt the presence of a greater power looking over him as he maneuvered through difficult situations and did everything possible to save lives. “Remember Sal, I am only here to do His work. These hands are guided by God the Father. My medical skill and experience allow me to do what I do well — but it is only by my faith that I see where I’m going on that operating table. You made it through for a reason. Go out there and make your life count. Don’t forget the Father.”

  Before he left, he sought out Sal’s parents, shook their hands and whispered his blessing, and if it were not for his surgeon’s attire, one could easily have mistaken him for a priest.

  “God bless you both,” he said. “Your boy’s special. He’s strong as a lion. And, a little stubborn too, though in a good way.”

  Son

  Gabriel would be picking Helene up from LaGuardia at four o’clock on Sunday, and she had intimated that she’d have a big surprise for him. His mind, naturally, had drifted into an erotic reverie. On Saturday, he bought flowers for the apartment and cooked up spaghetti and meatballs for the following night. On Sunday, since it was a slow workday, Gabriel got a trip to Kennedy from the Waldorf at around 2 p.m. and drove back empty to LaGuardia, parked in the regular lot and meandered into the American Airlines terminal. He got a coffee, read thirty pages of The Sirens of Titan and then paced in the waiting area, ready to greet Helene. He dashed into the men’s room several times, combed his hair and adjusted his clothing, then returned to his pacing, stopping a few times in front of the Arrivals/Departures board to check her plane’s status.

  When Gabriel saw Helene walking toward him in a pale-yellow embroidered dress, with a huge smile on her face, his heart raced. Four-year-old Edward James was beside her, holding onto his mom with one hand and clutching Gumba with the other. From beneath his curly locks, he surveyed the activity around him. This was Helene’s surprise, and Gabriel was elated. He embraced her and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. Then they both looked down at the little boy.

  “Gabriel, I’d like you to meet my son, Edward James.”

  Gabriel crouched down and looked into Edward’s eyes. “Hi Edward. I’m so glad to meet you.” He extended his hand, but instead of shaking it, Edward handed Gumba to Gabriel.

  “Did you miss him?” Edward asked.

  Gabriel hugged Gumba. “I sure did. Thanks. But he’s your elephant.”

  “Thank you for getting him for me. He’s a good friend.”

  “Glad you like him. Want to help me get your mom’s suitcases?”

  Edward grinned. Gabriel stood up and looked at Helene.

  “He’s beautiful,” he said.

  “Thanks,” she said, her words weighed with the weariness of the long plane ride. “I’ve got three large suitcases. Think we can manage? They’re heavy.”

  “Let’s get you two home,” Gabriel said, ushering them toward the luggage carousel.

  Within a half hour, Gabriel cruised on the Grand Central toward the Triboro Bridge; in the back seat, Edward’s head rested on Helene’s lap and, sunglasses on, feeling wiped out from her flight and month-long trip, Helene reclined her head and fell into a sound sleep.

  When Gabriel saw her in his rearview mirror, he remembered the day he’d met her, mused about how close they’d gotten i
n such a short time and wondered how he could become the man she needed.

  Later that evening, after enjoying the dinner Gabriel had prepared, after Edward James had bathed and been tucked in bed with Gumba, and after Gabriel had told the boy a funny story with Gumba doing the narrating (about his British childhood before coming to America), the reunited lovers sat on the couch to discuss the days ahead and the new life that they’d need to engineer. Helene, though still exhausted, felt refreshed and for the first hour, each recounted the ordeals they’d lived through the past month. Gabriel told her that this had been the most intense period in his young life, and as she listened, she felt that Gabriel had matured during their time apart. She could hear it in his voice, in the way he focused on the smallest of things — how good it felt to see Sal open his eyes again, to learn that Jacob had become a Marine, to converse with his father and brother in their basement apartment. He mentioned his desire to pursue a master’s degree in English literature and she was thrilled. There was a new energy about Gabriel; he was more optimistic, less bent on complaint and riddled with worry. Helene was determined to create a new future for herself and son.

  “I realized a week before leaving that I couldn’t leave Edward James behind. Mom reassured me that he’d be no burden, that I should finish school and return when I was ready. But I couldn’t follow any plan where he’s not a part of my life, every day. He needs me and I need him. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Can I be a part of it too?” Gabriel asked.

  “I’m counting on it … if you’re ready for such a commitment. I think we can make this work; I can’t think of anyone else I want to be with every day.”

  Helene hugged Gabriel and held him.

  “You and Edward are everything I could have wished for,” he told her. “I am the luckiest guy.”

  “Even if it means sleeping on the couch for a while?”

  “That’ll be tough, I admit,” said Gabriel. “But, yeah, even if it means that.”

  “Then I’ll love you twice as much when opportunity knocks.”

  “That sounds fair,” Gabriel said. “I can’t wait. But you look exhausted. How about a rain check and just a kiss.”

  “Okay, love. Here it is.” She gave Gabriel a long, sexy, loving kiss. “Will that do?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Helene wandered into the bedroom to lie next to Edward, and Gabriel shut out the light, tucked a couch pillow under his head and a blanket under his chin, and fell soundly asleep.

  Holy Ghost

  Sal had been told by the NYPD to stay in the city while the investigation was ongoing, so his trip to Florida was postponed. His godfather remained in New York and went with Sal to his lawyer’s office on Park Avenue and 73rd to discuss the details of his case. Julia was the only one happy that the journey south had been scrapped because she felt she needed to mend Sal with her loving. She looked after him, cooked, cleaned, and made love to him, feeling grateful all the while that he’d survived such a frightening assault; Sal, meanwhile, appreciated Julia’s attentions — all the love offered.

  One quiet Sunday morning, Gabriel picked Sal up and together they drove to Calvary Cemetery in Woodside. Sal had felt the urge to take a pilgrimage to Sister Beatrice’s grave since speaking with his surgeon the day of his release. Something about Dr. Strauss’s words, his insistence that some spiritual force from above had guided his hands while he operated, had stayed with Sal and made him think. And, of course, when Sal thought of anything spiritual, or anyone he respected, trusted and loved who might have been watching over him, it was Sister Beatrice. From that day, Sal knew he needed to thank her for everything she’d done to help him deal with the turmoil in his young life and to ask for her forgiveness in case he’d ever let her down. Interestingly enough, many similar thoughts coursed through Gabriel’s mind that morning. Sister Beatrice had been and still was the holy spirit in both Sal’s and Gabriel’s lives.

  Sal and Gabriel sat by her grave. It was a clear morning and the dampness emanating from the hard soil made it feel colder than it was. The tall ancient oak and elm trees nearby stretched their boughs toward a pale blue-gray sky, while massive weeping willows in the distance arched their leafless limbs downward over centuries’ old, dilapidated tombstones with faded years and names. Gabriel was mesmerized by the beautiful sculptures on headstones and mausoleums in that crowded ground, and he pondered the various lives led by those departed souls and was saddened by how little time some had been given to make a difference in the world. Sal was feeling somber and overcome with emotion; he placed the red roses he’d bought on the avenue the day before at the base of Sister Beatrice’s headstone.

  Sister Beatrice Ann McCarthy

  Born in Galway, Ireland on May 15, 1940

  Died in Queens, New York on September 24, 1975

  Moved to tears immediately after he’d done this, Sal cried out his grief on Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel did not cry. He felt an inner joy. This was a moment to rejoice, to thank Sister Beatrice for the goodness she’d brought to their lives, for her love, for watching over them from Heaven, and for saving Sal’s life — Gabriel was confident of this. He felt it in his gut; Sister Beatrice’s spirit had guided Dr. Strauss’s hands. And she was there with him now. Her spirit was in his heart and he was grateful. He smiled and kissed Sal’s head.

  “Thank you, Sister, for not abandoning us. I love you. We love you.”

  Gabriel’s words calmed Sal and soothed his heart.

  “You really think she’s here?”

  “Of course.”

  “You feel her presence?”

  “Yes.”

  “Think she helped save me?”

  “Yes.”

  “That she can forgive my constant weakness?”

  “Yes. Always. And mine. Sister had a big heart.” Gabriel paused, reflected. “So did Mandy. Wherever Mandy is, I will always love her. Sister Martin was right when she told me that faith would help me say goodbye. Now I see what she meant. I really feel at peace here. Don’t you?”

  “I do,” Sal replied. “And I want to make the rest of my life count.”

  “Me too. I’m so glad you’re still here with me. I couldn’t think of living on without your friendship.”

  “There must be a reason why I was spared, don’t you think?”

  “To do God’s work. However you can.”

  “Point me in that direction. I want to begin.”

  “Just look. You’ve already done something amazing by helping Nancy and Janie. That’s doing God’s work, Sal. I’ve never done anything like that. I’m proud of you.”

  “I felt bad for Nancy. She deserves so much better than what she had. Janie too.”

  After a brief silence, Gabriel said, “I plan to love Helene with all my heart, like I’ve never loved any woman before. I’ve made myself that promise. The best way to do God’s work is to love those closest to us, who love us unconditionally, who’ve been there for us.”

  “You know, you sound like a priest,” Sal said. “But you’re right. I plan to love Julia the same way. She’s been there for me.” He paused. “The more love shared, the better.”

  “Exactly,” Gabriel said. “In every situation, let’s be loving, generous, forgiving — carry God in our hearts.”

  “I promise.”

  “I promise too.”

  They said a Hail Mary for Sister Beatrice and Mandy, then sat for several minutes meditating on their futures. After a while, as sunlight brightened the morning with the promise of coming spring, Sal glanced at Gabriel with a curious air.

  “Are you that serious about Helene? You don’t know her that long.”

  “I am. I want to help her raise Edward James. Gonna have to hustle in the months ahead though. We’ll need lots of cash to send him to a first-rate elementary school next fall. Helene’s finishing college and I need to save for grad school.”

  “Wow, big plans,” Sal said.

  “Yeaup. Anything to make Helene happy. You
know, I may just take your advice, have Carlos at Ann paint the Dodge and sell it. I can probably get two grand for it — every dollar will help. What do you think?”

  “Paint it yellow?” Sal asked, baffled. “You out of your mind? I was just kidding when I said that. You do know that, don’t you? That’s a crazy idea!”

  “Not as crazy as I am about Helene.”

  “Little man’s gonna be pissed. He loves the Dodge. You can’t get rid of it; that’s like selling the old family dog.”

  “It’s just a car.”

  Sal took a deep breath, ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Gabriel. “You’ve been insane about that hunk of metal since you bought it. Sacrificed to keep it. Acted like a madman to protect it. And now you’re just gonna sell it? That makes no sense. Damn, now I know you’re losing it.”

  “If Paul wants it, he can have it,” Gabriel insisted. “He can get a part-time job on weekends, buy it from me at a special low, brotherly price, do the body work and paint it any color he likes. He can pay me over time — there’s no rush — but I’ll need some cash for it.”

  “Wow. This woman’s really done a number on you.”

  “Oh, she sure has,” Gabriel said, and they smiled.