Paint It Yellow

by López, Andrés G.

  It was not until Nancy yelled, “Don’t kill him, Sal. Please!” that he relented. He ceased pushing, yanked the head back from the opening and released it.

  Coiled like a fetus in a womb, Tommy lay on the court’s concrete floor wheezing and bleeding. Sal bent down and grabbed his neck again, called Nancy over and pushed his face toward her feet. “Kiss them, you fuck! Tell her you’re fuckin’ sorry! Beg her to stop me from killing your ugly ass!”

  Tommy kissed Nancy’s dirty sneakers and said he was sorry, but his voice was barely audible.

  “Like you mean it, you fuck!”

  Tommy lifted his head slightly, looked at Nancy and said it louder this time. “I’m … sooory fur hitin’ ya.” He then let his head drop and wailed like an animal feeling his master’s whip. Tommy’s pain and fear combined to produce a ridiculous, hysterical crying fit.

  “Shut the fuck up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up, you pussy!”

  Tommy quieted down.

  “Now, listen carefully,” Sal said softly. “You hear me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “If I ever! And I mean ever, find out you’ve touched Nancy again, I’ll kill you mothafucker! You hear me?”

  “Yeah!”

  Sal got down close to him. “Nancy’s looking for her sister, Janie. Now tell me, have you seen her? Has she bought any of your junk lately, you lowlife scumbag?”

  There was no answer.

  “If you’ve seen her, Tommy, you’d better tell me right now. ‘Cause if I find out you’ve sold her drugs and you don’t tell me, you’ll fuckin’ regret it.” He hit the back of Tommy’s head twice with his knuckles and Tommy’s hairless skull absorbed the blow like a blob of thick pizza dough pounded into shape on a board.

  “I haven’t sold her anything! I haven’t seen her!”

  Sal grabbed his neck again and yelled in Tommy’s ear, “Don’t fuckin’ yell at me!” He slammed Tommy’s chin on the concrete; it crunched like hard candy on a molar and Tommy let out an agonized scream. “Now, I’m gonna ask you one more time: Know where Janie might be?”

  Tommy covered his bleeding chin with his hands and barely managed to shake his head.

  “If I find out you’re lying, I’m gonna rip your eyeballs out, you fat mothafucker.”

  Sal gave Tommy’s head one last violent slap. He and Nancy walked out of the park and toward Sal’s Caddy halfway up the block. Minutes later, Tommy’s two friends returned. His cowardly partners hoisted him up, but Tommy pushed them away and hobbled toward the water fountain by the brick shed to wash off the blood.

  “Go find Julio,” he ordered over his shoulder and the cowards sprinted to 21st Street to look for the Dominican drug dealer.

  CHAPTER 23

  Nancy and Sal sat in a comfortable window booth at the Palace, on the corner of Ditmars and 31st Street. It was a busy but intimate family restaurant where Sal and Gabriel had often lunched when Gabriel attended Mater Christi. They served the best burgers in Astoria, and it was unique because its owners catered to Greek customers who lived in the neighborhood. All the Greek dishes were available — fantastic gyro plates, beef souvlaki, gigantic Greek salads (Sal’s favorite, and what he’d order this afternoon) and more. Their desserts were also locally famous; their cakes especially were made to order and affordable. Nothing was overpriced (their biggest burger cost $2.00), everything was delicious and the ambiance was marvelous at all hours because the train station was half a block away. Years earlier, after big victories, Finn’s Pub players would come here to celebrate.

  Nancy was worried about ordering anything too expensive; she hesitated when the waiter asked what she wanted. It was obvious to Sal that it’d been a while since anyone had treated her.

  “Order whatever you like, sweetheart. My treat. It’s not every day I run into an old friend.”

  After the waiter took their order, Sal excused himself and followed him. He got his attention near the kitchen doors and explained something. Nancy could see the waiter asking Sal questions and Sal responding and gesturing with his hands spread in front of him, then Sal returned to his booth and smiled broadly at her.

  “Forgot to tell him to go light on the salad dressing — that stuff’s heavy — and to bring me a big-ass pitcher of water. I worked up a little thirst earlier.”

  “Thanks for standing up for me. No one’s done that in a long time.”

  “My pleasure, sweetheart.” Sal reached for his cigarettes. “That creep had it coming. He won’t touch you again.”

  Sal saw that the years had not been kind to Nancy, and Tommy’s latest assault had left its mark. The left side of her face was puffy and bruised. Her forehead was scratched, and when she spoke, he could see her upper right canine tooth was missing. And though she’d always been thin with just the right amount of plumpness where it counted, now she was skinny, her arms scarred with yellow-blue bruising left by repeated needle use, her nostrils red from continuous cocaine snorting, her dirty-blonde hair a frizzed, tangled mess.

  Though their romance had lasted for only a few months, Sal remembered its emotional intensity and how Nancy’s warm personality had brought out the very best in him. It was a tense time at home for Sal, but being around Nancy restored his sanity and daily joy. She laughed at his jokes and flirted with him, especially at softball practices. They went shopping on Steinway Street on weekends, ate pizza and shot pool at Las Vegas Pizzeria on 30th Avenue on rainy days, and occasionally, she’d join him at Astoria Park till dusk when Finn’s Pub practiced there. Sal always had her home by nine; he liked Nancy’s father, Big Mike, and wanted to make a good impression. Around him, though he was dying to kiss Nancy goodnight, he didn’t; instead, he would squeeze her hand and wink his affection. Nancy would smile and the next day rib Sal for being overly formal in front of her dad, but then afterward she’d smother him with kisses.

  But it all ended when Nancy went on vacation with her family to Maine. By mid-July, Nancy had met an older boy from Castine. He was the first boy she ever had sex with. Sal also met someone — a girl named Donna, and when she took him to her empty house one afternoon, undressed and invited him to take a bubble bath, Sal climbed into the tub and into a sexual relationship of his own.

  Neither Sal nor Nancy harbored regret nor ill feelings about the breakup. When Nancy returned from Maine, Sal was dating Donna, and Nancy found someone else at LIC that fall. Through it all, they remained good friends until Sal moved to Brooklyn in ‘74. They’d not met again till this day.

  “So how’d you ever get involved with that jerk?” Sal asked as he smoked his cigarette. “And I’m only asking ‘cause you’re a smart girl and that guy’s a born lowlife loser.”

  “Two years ago, Dad died of lung cancer.”

  Sal put down his cig and reached for her hands. “I’m sorry. Truly sorry you lost him so soon.”

  Tears ran down Nancy’s cheeks. “Things got hard at home. My brother sold his ‘vette to pay the funeral costs and then went into the Air Force. Mom got depressed — she still is — she loved dad so much. Janie too — she was fifteen and took it very hard. Dad was such a big man. Larger than life.”

  Sal took a last drag, then put out his half-smoked cigarette. “Big Mike scared the crap out of me when I first met him.”

  Nancy smiled, then faltered. “Losing Dad messed me up. I tried to stay out of the house … being there just reminded me of him and the funeral and all the sadness — and trying to find money for so many bills. Mom sold our house on Crescent and we moved into our small apartment. Janie and I started going to 112 Park to hang out with friends and that’s where I met Tommy. He listened to me, tried to make me feel better. He wasn’t funny like you, but he did make me laugh. We smoked sometimes, hung out late at the handball courts, listened to Zeppelin, Black Sabbath. I liked being around him. Felt better at the park than home. He was nice to Janie too.”

  “It’s hard to believe you’d like that guy at all. He’s fuckin’ ugly as sin — excuse my French. Damn! Back in the da
y, your standards were through the roof, girl. I had to act like a monkey and stand on my head and crack jokes all damn day just to get you to look my way. How’d that gorilla work his magic on you?”

  “I guess I needed a friend. He really was nice. He told me I was beautiful, that he never thought a girl like me would like him. And I … felt sorry for him and wanted to make him feel good. One night we made out and wound up doing it at the courts. I was twenty then, attending LaGuardia, but at the park each night I’d do drugs with Tommy. Pretty soon, I couldn’t keep up and dropped out. It all went downhill after that.”

  “But you’re done with all that now, right?”

  “If I can kick my coke and heroin habit.”

  “But with that jerk?”

  “I need to stay away from him.”

  “You do!”

  “I realized today that he doesn’t care about me anymore.”

  “You can do so much better than that fat shit. Truly. He’s a loser. You’re a beautiful woman. Know how many guys would kill to be with you?”

  “Thanks Sal. You’re so sweet.”

  “I mean that, Nancy, from the bottom of my heart. And I want you to get help, sweetheart. Promise me you will. There’s a rehab place at Queensboro Plaza, by the Citibank. I’ll go with you.”

  “You’re right. I want to get help. I want to start a new life.”

  “That’s great. I’m here to help any way I can. Let me give you my number before I forget.” Sal grabbed a napkin, pulled out a pen and wrote down his phone number. “When you call, let it ring twice, hang up and call again. That way I’ll know it’s you.” He handed her the napkin.

  “You’ve never changed, Sal,” Nancy said, as her eyes teared. “You’re so sweet. Thank you. You’ve always been nice to me.”

  “Things will get better. I promise. Glad I found you today.” Sal noticed the waiter coming. “Now, let’s eat and then go look for Janie.”

  “I just want to know she’s okay.”

  “Don’t you worry, she’ll turn up.”

  “Thank you.” Like St. Jude, Sal brought her hope. Nancy thought of Mary Magdalene (a woman who’d fascinated her when she’d first read the Bible in sixth grade) and she wanted, like Mary, to salvage her own life for her dead father’s sake, and in his blessed memory.

  “So do you have someone?” Nancy asked, glancing up at him again.

  “Yeah. We’ve been together six years. Can you believe that? Six. Julia and I share an apartment on Springfield Boulevard. We met at Erasmus High in Brooklyn.”

  “I’m happy for you. She’s a lucky girl.”

  “I’m the lucky one. She’s intelligent, passionate, she works hard and pampers me. I really don’t deserve her. But I know how blessed I am to have her.”

  “Think you’ll get married?”

  “Someday. We want to have a family. If I lost her, I’d go nuts. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

  Nancy sipped her Pepsi. “Then hold on to her.”

  “I plan to. I love her with all my heart.” Sal asked for the check and the waiter rushed to the kitchen.

  “So, aren’t you turning twenty-three on the twenty-fourth?” he asked.

  Nancy’s eyes brightened. “You remembered! After so many years.”

  “Christmas Eve, right? — the most beautiful day of the year, if you ask me. Mind if we celebrate early?”

  Just then, the waiter came back with a big chocolate cake. On its perimeter were twenty-three lit candles and across its center, “Happy Birthday Nancy” was written in red icing. Nancy got up and hugged Sal. “You’re such a good man. Thank you so much.”

  “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” Sal started to sing. Before long, the rest of the customers at the Burger Palace had joined in. Nancy hadn’t felt this surprised in a very long time. She beamed and blushed; she felt redeemed, alive, happy and loved.

  “Blow out the candles,” Sal commanded. “And after cake, we’ll go get your present on Steinway.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Nancy and Sal browsed through the Robbins department store’s ample selection of winter coats. Sal insisted she needed a new one. It didn’t take long till she found a long woolen coat she liked, which fit her snuggly and would keep her warm through winter. Sal purchased it and she gave him a big thank-you hug before leaving the store. It pleased him to see Nancy comfortable and satisfied. Soon, as he’d promised, they hopped back in the Caddy and went looking for Janie.

  First, they went to LIC and learned that Janie had stopped attending classes two weeks earlier and had been put on the truancy list. Nancy left her number and asked that the principal call her should she resume attending. He agreed to and advised her to file a missing person’s report at the local precinct, something Sal scoffed at, but he didn’t comment.

  As their meeting ended, the school bell rang. Sal and Nancy combed the grounds for Janie. They ran into several of her friends, but all said they’d not seen or heard from Janie in weeks. She’d even stopped attending cheerleading practice, even though she was captain of the squad. Her friends had found this odd because Janie rarely missed practice and dutifully found someone to run things when she was sick or couldn’t attend. Nancy didn’t see Jackie, Janie’s closest friend, so she and Sal walked to her house on 34th Avenue, where Janie often stayed.

  Jackie welcomed them into her home, stooping down to hug Nancy. She knew why they’d come, for Nancy rarely visited. She told them that Janie hadn’t been around or called; she’d not seen her since she’d stopped attending school. Then while Sal waited in the living room, the two girls stepped into Jackie’s bedroom where she told Nancy that she and Janie had danced at the Whiskey Oasis topless bar on 31st Street a few nights, about a month back.

  “I did it for the money,” Jackie said. “But I was so humiliated after each set and I hated the way the drunks hounded me. It wasn’t just about dancing; they wanted more. I told Janie I was done after the third night, but she said she needed the cash and was sticking it out. Said it was the easiest money she ever made. She made friends with this older dancer, Luz, who I think might work as a prostitute in Manhattan. I feel so guilty for bringing Janie there. And then I bailed on her.”

  Nancy was bewildered. “I’m sorry too. But I’m glad you didn’t stay. Janie never mentioned anything about dancing topless. She tells me everything. Probably knew I wouldn’t approve. Do you know where Luz lives?”

  “Only that it’s somewhere in Midtown. Janie stayed at her apartment the second and third nights we danced. That’s when we lost touch. I figured you knew where she was.”

  “Thanks, Jackie.” Nancy gave her a hug before she left.

  In the Caddy, Nancy shared all Jackie had related, and Sal thought a visit to the Whiskey Oasis was in order. They arrived at four thirty, just as the bar opened, and asked to see the manager, but he wasn’t around. The bartender, a lanky Hispanic guy with a pronounced Puerto Rican accent said he knew “pretty Janie” and her friend, Luz, and acknowledged they’d danced there weeks earlier, but not recently. Nancy left her number and thanked him.

  “Maybe we should go to the police,” she said, once they were back in the car.

  “Those fuckers aren’t going to do shit,” Sal told her. “If you report her missing, you’ll be filling out paperwork the whole damned night. Trust me. It’s a waste of time.”

  Sal’s gut feeling was that Janie was still dancing; he couldn’t fathom that someone so young could turn prostitute overnight. They combed the strip bars and streets around 21st and Queensboro Plaza, but had no luck. Sal dropped Nancy off at her mom’s apartment at six thirty and drove home for dinner. After Julia fell asleep, he snuck back out and picked up Nancy. They returned to the Whiskey Oasis but the manager was still not there, so they headed for Midtown to search the streets where Luz lived.

  CHAPTER 24

  Just minutes before two o’clock in the morning on the 20th, Gabriel was parked third in line in front of the Plaza Hotel on Central Park South, hoping fo
r a trip to Kennedy. He had started driving nights after Helene left for Minnesota, hoping that he could make more money because there was less traffic. He would work a hard month before her return and save as much as possible for whatever presented itself in the near future — taking her out, buying her things, paying for school (if he chose to go back), supporting himself while he found a different job or financing a move to Minnesota if it came to that. One thing was certain, Gabriel wanted Helene in his life. And for a few days, money was all he thought about. It had been a long while since Gabriel had felt a genuine desire to hustle for the green stuff.

  Staying in Helene’s apartment worked out well. Aside from making him miss her, being close to his garage made life easier. Gibbs was thrilled when Gabriel chose to drive nights because a week earlier two of his regulars had quit. Gabriel gave notice to the superintendent at Bayside that he was leaving by month’s end, something Jiggerson was happy to hear since he didn’t like Gabriel and his damn car. For now, the Dodge was garaged safely in Jackson Heights.

  Outside the Plaza, the night was cold but clear and the streets quiet. Gabriel mused about Helene — where was she and what was she doing? He could see her clearly in his mind, playing with her son, talking to her parents late into the night after putting him to bed (would she mention him?), shutting off the Christmas tree lights, looking out from her window at the frozen, desolate Minnesota sky, thinking about her sad past, about William’s tragic accident. Could she, perhaps, be thinking about him also?

  Gabriel heard a tap on his front passenger window. A young man in dress slacks, white shirt and tie and dinner jacket peered in.

  “You on duty?”

  Gabriel didn’t see any suitcases or bags, so this didn’t look like an airport ride, but since it was so quiet, it would be nice to get back out on the road.