The Paint Man

The Paint Man

They told me there was a chinese guy down town who had colors.
- What colors, I said.
- You know colors to go with when you really need them.

So I went downtown and soon enough there he was. He was painting a
fence around a backyard. I told him my troubles - my wife had just been
diagnosed with cancer and my daughter was lost with some surfers in
Australia, not a word on the email or on the phone - and he told me to
choose the color.
- Green, I said

And green it was. He simply took up a huge brush, made a stroke on the
brick wall behind him. And away I went. Right into the green. There was
a world there, like green air. I swam, I flew, I dived. I think I was
visiting the Green for over a week, because as I came back to the
street things had changed a bit.
- Where have you been, they said at work.
- Resting, sick.
It was cool with them. My work was at a publishing company, nothing was
a rush, things could wait.

At the hospital things were getting worse. My wife hallucinated, pains
were over here at an accelerating speed. We talked much about us being
teenagers, meeting, playing Neal Young, nights in the parks with a
bottle of white wine - she always got headache from red.

I went downtown some time later to see the chinese. He was there,
working with his brushes on an old door lying on the ground. He asked
what color this time. Blue I said. And blue I got. This time I thought
I should rest out real good so I kind of dived deeper and deeper. Funny
how no images was with me. There was just the vast blue, stretching for
ever and remarkably light. No resistance like water or air. No sounds,
no sights. But very restful indeed.

Coming back I realised after some time that I had been away for at
least two weeks. At work my boss wanted a word. I told him I could take
work with me and work from home. No problem he said. Just don't
disappear like that. I was already planning the next color in my
mind.

At the hospital my wife had all her hair gone. She had a face of death
but her eyes were wonderful. We talked and laughed. She had an email
from our daughter in Australia. Surfing and a boyfriend, needed money.
My wife told me to send her and I did the same afternoon. I also wrote
a letter as a reply to her letter. Come home, I wrote, your mother is
dying if the chemical does not work. Come home and get a job and be
near your parents for a while.

I really did a lot of work at home, my boss was pleased. I did a huge
amount of editing on the computer and sent it all down to the company.
Mostly it was boring handbook texts on using equipment
in psychology tests. But in my mind I was going to the next
color.

A Saturday morning I went to my wife at the hospital and said I had to
go away for a month. I tried to explain about the colors.
- The colors?
- Yes. One goes into them and it is all a rest, a great comfort.
- I see.
But she didn't see. Not at all. She started to cry and I knew what was
going to happen. But I was ready.

As I met the chinese he looked at me, held his beard and said:
- You take red today.
- Yes.

The red was an ocean. So far it carried it me, but this time there was
a weight to it. I was astonished. Ocean after ocean and a certain
weight which made me cry. And after an eternity I saw her face. We were
in one of the parks and she looked serious as she poured a glass of
white wine for me. I really loved her. She said:
- I understand about the colors. Still I don't like the red wine.

Our daughter came to the funeral. She was tanned and full of surf, her
hair bleached by Australian sun. She promised to stay home for awhile,
maybe take job and settle down.