Paint It Black
written by:
Jake Rivers

Paint It Black by Jake Rivers ©

Author's Note:

This has long been one of my favorite songs; it has such an elemental rhythm that you can feel the song. There has been a lot of speculation over the years about "what does it mean?" but little agreement. This story is what I feel as I hear the song.

Mick Jagger and Keith Richards wrote "Paint It Black" with the assistance of other members of the band, especially Bill Wyman and Brian Jones.

I SEE A RED DOOR AND I WANT IT PAINTED BLACK

Because of some quirk in human nature we always seem to remember what we were doing when some life-altering event happens.

For me, well, it turned out I was doing something stupid and trite. We had just finished a major project at work and everyone on the team was given a week off. Half were to go one week and the other half the next.

I remembered my boss, Wayne, pleading with me, "Damn, Jim. I know you have worked even more hours than I have on getting the new disk array out the door. But, Jim, I'm having problems with Judy. I swear if I don't take her to Maui ASAP she'll either leave me or kill me!"

I laughed at him, making him sweat a little. Jen and I had been living together for two years and we were close to making a decision to make things permanent. I'd already talked to her and we just wanted to spend a lot of time together and make some plans. She didn't care which week I had off.

"Jeez, Wayne, I don't know. Jen might have already made plans. Let me think ... aw, shucks, Wayne, you've been such a good boss I'll let you take the first week."

Wayne was so happy he didn't even call me an ass for jerking his chain.

So when I got the call from my neighbor, Ben, I was diligently working on a problem of strategic importance to the company ... well, I was playing solitaire. I was trying for a personal record of three games in a row when the phone rang. I almost didn't answer it since I told everyone that was working that day to take a long lunch and I would stay and cover in case some honcho called - I figured it was better to say I was in a meeting than to explain why I was the only one in the office. With some degree of annoyance I took the call.

For years afterward, when I would think about that fateful day, the thing that would stick in my mind would be that stupid solitaire game.

"Jim, this is Ben. You'd better get home right away. I heard a noise about fifteen minutes ago. I thought it was just a car backfiring but now there are two police cars in your driveway."

I drove home as fast as I could - the hell with the company; some things are just more important. When I got to the house we were renting, there were now three police cars, two ambulances and a news van from Channel 5.

The next several hours were a blur; I couldn't begin to recreate exactly all that had happened. The gist of it was that a burglar had broken into the house - not knowing Jen was there. He'd surprised her coming out of the bedroom door and shot her once without thinking. The detective I talked to speculated that the burglar was as startled as she had been and he just panicked. He was running out the front door as the first police car arrived and was killed in the ensuing shootout.

I had to leave while the investigation was still going on. One of the detectives took me down to the station and went over the details about the house being a crime scene. It was late before a rookie in a patrol car escorted me home to pick up some clothes and my shaving kit. The house was taped with that yellow tape they use to keep people out.

I was doing okay until I saw the door to our bedroom. The once glossy black door was splattered too generously with what had to be Jen's blood. Without realizing what I was doing, I fell to my knees and put my hands on the still tacky red hell that was all that was left of my love.

I gasped in a weak voice, "Paint it black! Oh, god, paint it black."

This clearly scared the hell out of the rookie cop and bought me back from my daze. As I gathered my stuff under the eyes of the now more diligent cop, I remembered the argument.

When we had rented the house it really was quite a dump. The guy that owned it said he would give us a break on the rent if we did some of the work ourselves. That seemed okay with us since we both liked to do that sort of thing.

We had painted everything and had only the door to our bedroom left. Funny, we had readily agreed on all the other colors we had chosen but for some reason we just couldn't agree on the door. She wanted something I couldn't even pronounce - did you ever fight with someone and you couldn't even pronounce what you were fighting about? - this color called Peau De Soie. It didn't really look all that bad, kind of a chalky white, but I couldn't get past the stupid name. I wanted a tint called Harmony. It was really a kind of pukey white but I loved the name.

Of course the argument turned out much worse than it should have. I guess there were some things that had built up and needed to be "discussed." She had to go over to her sister's house, and had the last word, "Just paint it whatever damn color you want!"

Well, I felt bad and decided to paint it the color she wanted. I liked to play loud rock albums when I worked around the house, I had my favorite one on by the Rolling Stones. I was ready to start painting when "Paint It Black" came on. Unbidden, the idea came out of nowhere, and feeling nice and devilish, I scrounged around in the garage and found a can of glossy black. I knew I was just doing it to give her a hard time for not letting me win the argument.

I finished and ... it was ugly! I mean really butt ugly. I felt bad but I couldn't do anything until the black crap dried. Jen came home and gave me a big hug and apologized for the argument. Now I felt really bad. She started back to the bedroom and I tried to think how I could stop her. Too late. She was staring in awe at the door! Awe or shock, I wasn't sure.

I started stammering, "Jen, it was just a stupid joke, I ... " when she started laughing, falling on her knees and pointing at the door. It didn't take long before we were both rolling around on the floor, laughing hysterically. That quickly led to our big brass bed and fireworks.

Later, lying there half asleep, I started telling her I'd fix the door the next morning.

Thoughtfully, she mused, "No, Jim, let's keep it this way. It is ugly but let's keep it! This can be a sign of our love. Every time we see the door we will be reminded of our first fight and of how we need to listen to each other and learn how to compromise."

"Are you sure, Honey?"

"Yes, I am! Let's leave it just as it is."

When people would come over and comment on the color of the door, we would just smile and say, "Oh, it was a compromise."

And now, I saw a red door and I wanted, no needed, to paint it black.

I SEE THE GIRLS WALK BY DRESSED IN THEIR SUMMER CLOTHES I HAVE TO TURN MY HEAD UNTIL MY DARKNESS GOES

Before I could possibly be ready, it was time for the funeral. Jen's sister, Angie picked me up from the hotel I was staying at. I just couldn't go back to the house. I kept thinking about that door, covered with the red of my love's heart. I see that red door and feel that I have to paint it black. If I couldn't see the red I could possibly escape facing the facts. It's not easy being honest with yourself when your whole world is black. I hadn't had time to think about anything. My heart, my soul ... everything seemed so gray - no, it was black.

As we drove through the park to the church that bright summer day I didn't see the green leaves and lawns that were so painstakingly taken care of. I saw a day the gray of pewter. I saw the girls in their colorful summer frocks, the bright colors, the girls that were so ... alive. As I watched one girl with a shining yellow sundress - her face glowing with a pretty flush from the sun - she started fading, the yellow to gray, and her face to black. I had to turn my head until my darkness went away - if it ever would.

Angie turned and looked at me, seeing the darkness on me, the color of my life fading. She squeezed my hand and I felt a sudden guilt at the dampness in her eyes. At the same time I felt a faint, disturbing jealousy: the pain was mine and I wasn't ready to share it.

The church was crowded; black seemed to be the appropriate, predominate color. The mood was subdued, quiet. It struck me suddenly that this was not what Jen would want. She was such a vivacious person, engaging others even if they were happy in their solitude. If she could look down - and I had to believe she was - I knew she would be mad at me for the blackness overwhelming me, emanating from me.

I SEE PEOPLE TURN THEIR HEADS AND QUICKLY LOOK AWAY LIKE A NEW BORN BABY IT JUST HAPPENS EV'RY DAY

As I walked to my place people would turn to me, prepared to offer condolences, a touch, a smile, a reassurance, some contact with me. But the blackness was upon me and people would turn their heads and quickly look away.

Most of it was a blur. People would move around, do things, say things, stand up, kneel - I just ... did whatever I did. I know not what.

Angie gave a talk that caught me for a moment.

"My big sister was so much in tune with others. She would volunteer at the orphanage; she served food at Christmas. Anyone that needed an ear, someone to listen to them, she was there.

"She comforted me when my first boyfriend dumped me. She told me I was a special person and one day I would find that one person that would love me truly. She did find that person for herself in Jim. She was so happy with him ... "

She teared up and had to stop for a minute. She looked down and gave me a wan smile.

"I remember once a stray dog was hit by a car in front of our house. Jen took it to the vet then spent days trying to find the owner. When she finally found the young boy it belonged to, his smile made her the happiest person in the world."

Angie went on with the things Jen had done for others. Looking up at the rafters of the church, I mumbled to myself, "Jen, I hardly knew you. We needed time; we needed forever together."

The priest talked for his seemingly mandatory twenty minutes. Unlike Angie, he didn't seem to know Jen at all. Out of his meaningless platitudes, one thing did reach me.

"Life is a cycle. Death is part of life. Birth is part of life. As we remember this young lady today, somewhere else in this city a baby is being born. Death is like a new born baby, it happens every day."

I SEE A LINE OF CARS AND THEY'RE ALL PAINTED BLACK WITH FLOWERS AND MY LOVE BOTH NEVER TO COME BACK

Finally it was over. Everyone went outside and I stood there, feeling lost. I saw them putting Jen in a long black hearse. It seemed ... fitting. There was a long line of limos, all black. People were starting to filter into the open doors and I felt a tug on my arm.

Angie gently led me to our own black car. I looked over at the hearse and saw the bright array of flowers on the casket. I saw the door close and the hearse slowly pulling away and I knew at that moment that neither the flowers nor Jen were ever coming back to me. My love was gone ... gone forever. I collapsed into the limo and started crying - even my tears were black.

~~~~~~

I drifted for the next month. I took a leave of absence from work - they gave my next project to someone else. I couldn't deal with the house. I found an agent and dumped the subleasing of the house on him. He found an apartment for me and took care of moving what I wanted to keep.

For the first week I sat around and looked at the walls in the small apartment. I kept thinking of the song by Jim Reeves,

"Four walls to hear me, Four walls to see. Four walls too near me, Closing in on me."

I finally had to get away. I drove to the coast and took long walks on the beach. I ate but the food was tasteless. It was all just so ... so sudden: from white to black in an instant. The sun shone brightly; my days were gray.

I started running on the beach instead of walking. After a week and eating little and running miles on miles I could feel my clothes becoming slack. I almost smiled to myself - I was becoming a slacker.

One morning as I ran I saw a tern walking on the beach. As I got closer I saw that its wing was broken. I took my shirt off and wrapped around the poor innocent creature. I took it into town to the vet. I could see Jen doing that and felt a small comfort.

NO MORE WILL MY GREEN SEA GO TURN A DEEPER BLUE I COULD NOT FORESEE THIS THING HAPPENING TO YOU

There was this cove we would go to together. Through some trick of light and the depth of the water this cove would be a beautiful sea green - until the sun shone just right then it would turn a dark blue. It was a longish walk from where I was staying but I thought that seeing this favorite cove of ours would help. I got there early in the morning, carrying a sandwich for the expected wait for the sea change.

As expected, satisfying in that it was as I had remembered, the water at the cove was green. It was that special shade of green that a new copper roof looks before weathering sets in. Feeling better, I ate my sandwich and waited. And waited. The hunger pangs in my stomach made me realize that no more would this lovely green sea change to that dark blue anymore.

Oh, Jen. I couldn't have seen this happening to you. We were so happy. Our love was so deep. Now you are gone and I'm alive. It never even crossed my mind that something would take you away from me.

I knew it was time for me to go back and get on with my life.

~~~~~~

I started back at work. There were always new projects to do. I caught an interesting one: we needed to come up with a better suite of tools to manage large disk arrays. I threw myself into the task, working late, coming in early. The challenge of getting it right occupied my mind as long as I was at work. The time away from work ... well, I tried to make that window as small as possible.

About three months after I started work, I was nursing my last beer when I heard a soft, tentative knocking at my door. I was startled; through the months that I had been in this apartment, not one person had visited me.

I cautiously opened the door to see Angie, Jen's little sister. She wasn't so little; she was twenty-two and had finished college last year. She taught third grade at the school she had attended as a kid. She looked at me with a sad face.

"Jim, you haven't visited us since ... well, no one has seen you. Mom and dad would like to have you come over for dinner Sunday. Can you make it, please?"

I really had no reason for not going. Angie stayed and we chatted for a while. Somehow I felt better for her having visited. She seemed like a songbird - flitting all over the place spreading joy.

When I got to Jen's parents house right on time that Sunday, they made me feel bad that I'd neglected them. They were good people and had been very nice to me. I knew that it was just as hard on them and Angie as it was on me. I'd just been in such a black funk that I hadn't allowed myself to move on.

When I was ready to go, Angie walked me out to my car.

"Jim, I have some tickets to see Cats next Saturday. I can't find anyone to go with me. I was going to go with my friend, Kathy, but she has to go out of town."

I knew I'd feel bad if I didn't go. She had been a good friend and I didn't want to hurt her. It wasn't until months later I found out she didn't buy the tickets until I'd agreed to go.

That next week seemed to go better. I spent slightly less time at work and even watched a couple of NBA games on TV.

On Wednesday I was watching a commercial and saw a woman that faintly reminded me of Jen. I tried to remember what Jen looked like, how she was different from this woman on TV. I was shocked when the image was slightly blurry. I had to look at Jen's picture on the mantle to get her back into a tight focus in my mind. I felt bad, but what happens, happens.

On Saturday I picked up Angie at her parents place. She was wearing a pale blue dress that looked suspiciously new. I enjoyed the play more that I was expecting. I'd seen it before with Jen. When they did the song, "Mungojerrie And Rumpleteazer," I laughed without thinking. This had always been one of my favorite songs from Cats.

I felt guilty, like I had to be sad all the time, and looked at Angie to see if my laughing had upset her. She smiled at me and squeezed my hand. She left her hand in mine, disconcerting me. I didn't know what to do so I didn't do anything. We stopped for ice cream afterwards and I did relax a little.

Going out with her to various places went on for a few months and suddenly Christmas was upon us. I was going to fly to spend the holiday with my mom - dad had died a few years ago - but Angie insisted I at least spend Christmas day with them.

"You know how we do the presents on Christmas morning. You can stay the night before. Is it okay for you to sleep in Jen's old room?" she asked a bit nervously.

It actually did bother me but I didn't want to upset her. "Sure, Angie, that's fine."

Came Christmas Eve, it felt really weird to stay in Jen's room. Except for a few thing stored there - everyone's summer clothes in the closet, for example - the room was essentially like it was the day Jen had moved in with me. I fell asleep right away but about three some small noise - some groan in the house reacting to the cold, maybe - awakened me. I had the feeling that Jen was in the room with me, smiling in the dark with her vivacious smile. I felt something soft slip into my heart; my muscles seemed to loosen, almost melt. A sense of peace overcame me and I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I didn't hear the soft knock on the door. I did hear the easy squeak the door had always made and felt the slight movement of the bed as someone sat on it. It was, of course, Angie coming to wake me up. There was just enough light to see her. Her dirty blond hair was hanging loosely around her face. She had no makeup on and looked like an angel sitting there. She had a serious look on her face, almost like she was puzzled by something.

Unthinking, I put my hand on her cheek, just holding it there. She leaned her head into my hand and closed her eyes. We stayed like that for a frozen moment when her mom called up the stairs.

"Angie, is he awake yet?

Angie jumped up with a startled look on her face. I think she had really forgotten why she came upstairs. The light wasn't very bright but it looked suspiciously like she was blushing.

"Hurry down, Jim. Everything is ready."

I pulled on some sweats I had laying out and, after washing my face, went on down. Angie, her mom and dad, and her older brother, Robert, and his wife and two small children were gathered. The kids were looking at me with some exasperation, like I had hidden Santa Claus.

The tradition was to let the kids do their thing - rip everything open as fast as possible - then go play with their goodies.

The adults could then leisurely open presents one at a time, allowing comments and conversation. This was done with coffee and hot eggnog available.

I gave Angie a nice angora sweater that seemed to be the right size. She seemed happy with it - she ran over and gave me a big hug. She was wearing a robe and I could feel that she wasn't the little sister anymore. She stayed by me on the sofa.

When my turn came, Angie handed me a small, flat package. It turned out to be a very nice calfskin address book.

With a faint tinge of sarcasm, she said, "Notice that I already put my name in it! Now you have no excuse for not calling."

I smiled at that but didn't say anything.

It was a wonderful morning. Everyone treated me like I was one of the family. I realized with a start that I really was ... that I had always been part of the family.

I flew out later that afternoon and spent a week with Mom and others in my extended family. It was a nice visit but it was good to get back to work. I settled in and was quite busy. We were at a critical design stage and were scheduled to make the final pitch for funding the first of March.

The days and weeks flew by and we finally made our pitch. We got pretty much what we asked for but when everything had settled down they had increased our equipment budget significantly.

About a week later, this was about ten weeks since Christmas, I was watching Phoenix and Dallas go into overtime: Nash versus Nowitzki was always fun to watch. There came a knock on the door and I paused the game - God bless DVR's. It was, of course, Angie again.

She came in, a sudden flurry of activity, a box in her arms. "Jim, I ... I made a couple of apple pies and I ... well, I thought you might like one."

She put it on the counter - next to the address book she had given me. She looked at it for a frozen minute, and then asked, "Did you like it? Did you like my present then?"

Before I could answer she ran from the room crying. Perplexed, I stood there and tried to figure it out. Not coming to any understanding, I sliced a piece of the pie and finished watching the game.

Later I thought about it lying in bed. I considered all the interactions I'd had with Angie since Jen had died but the pieces weren't falling into place. Finally, I fell into a deep sleep. Hours later I slowly came somewhat awake and felt a presence in the room. I knew there could be no one there but I had that same sense of peace I'd felt that night sleeping in Jen's bed. Out of nowhere came a fragment of one of Jen's favorite songs - not audibly heard, but in my head.

"Hey, Jude! Don't let her down. You have found her, now go and get her."

It seemed like Jen was singing it - as she had so many times before. I felt a hand on my cheek: like I had held Angie's cheek with my own that Christmas morning.

"Remember, to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better."

I was awake now. I got up and fixed a cup of tea. As I sipped the tea I stared at Jen's picture - searching for some answer. I saw the address book on the kitchen counter and walked over to pick it up. I ran my fingers lightly over the smooth - almost warm feeling - leather. I lifted it to my nose - inhaling the rich aroma of fine calfskin. Idly I leafed through the pages - one at a time, flipping them slowly over. There was nothing on any page until I came to one about half way through that had Angie's phone number on it.

I suddenly dropped the address book as if it were hot to the touch. I looked down at it and realized with somewhat of a shock that Angie loved me! With a sense of wonder, I turned the thought this way, that way in my mind. I studied it; I considered that it was true. I almost ran to the phone to call her to see if it were true. I stopped as I picked up the handset. The time wasn't really great for social calls, but more important, I had no idea how I felt.

Had Jen been trying to tell me something? I got Jen's photo album from the closet and looked for the picture there. It was taken at a dance we had been to with Angie and a guy she was dating and the picture showed Angie dancing with me; she had a look of what could only be rapture on her face. It came to me then that Angie had always loved me in some fashion. I was humbled by the realization.

I thought of all that had happened - the intense feeling of blackness that had invaded my soul for so long. Holding that thought I realized with a small shock that I hadn't felt that blackness since Christmas.

~~~~~~

The next day I called Angie and somewhat clumsily asked her out to dinner.

"Why?" she replied.

I considered that question carefully.

"Well, Angie, the food is good there, I like your company, and I'd like it very much if you could go with me."

I could almost hear her smile. "Okay, come early and visit with the folks."

I did get there early and I enjoyed talking to them. I felt guilty that I hadn't stopped by more often. Angie would glance at me every few minutes - almost a question in her eyes.

As we got to our table and I pulled out her chair, she indicated the one next to where I would sit. The waiter came to take our drink orders and left. She put her hand on mine and looked away for a minute - deciding something. Leaving her hand on mine, she looked straight in my eyes for a long minute.

Finally, she whispered, "You know, don't you?"

"Yes, Angie, I know."

She took a deep breath, and asked, "How do you feel about it?"

"Angie, I have to be honest with you. I was in the grasp of this darkness, this blackness for so long that I didn't really see what was going on around me. How do I feel? Many things. Mostly I feel honored and humbled that such a special person as you would care about me. I feel excited in a way I never thought I could again. You have awakened something in me that lay fallow for far too long.

"I need to learn to live again ... to learn to love again. I do need some time to ... "

"What do you need time for, Jim? How much time?"

Slowly, I responded, "Time to do what we are doing now. Time to explore each other in a new light. Time for you to test your love and for me to make sure the blackness has really gone. How long? I can't say but we'll know, Angie, we'll know."

With that I leaned over and gave her a short kiss just as the waiter came with our order. She laughed a little and visibly relaxed. We had a lot of fun and much laughter along with the great meal. There did seem to be a certain brittleness to her but I could understand that.

From then on I made a point to either call or see her every day. The first time we ate dinner with her parents I expected them to say something but I guess they knew all along. Later I talked with her dad.

"When you and Jen got hitched, we thought it was cute the way she loved you. We thought it was like puppy love. I guess Jen knew all along but they always had such a great relationship that it wasn't a problem."

"Dad, how do you think Jen would like it if ... well, if something happened with Angie and I?" I'd taken to calling him dad soon after Jen had moved in with me.

"Why, boy, I reckon Jen's up in heaven right now smiling' down on us. I surely do think she would be tickled pink."

As we dated and gradually became closer, that brittleness I'd sensed at the restaurant that night faded away. I guess if you want something for such a long time and so deeply, that when it does come it can be hard to trust.

I took it slow and gentle with Angie. I knew she loved me but I didn't want to spook her. She had a sweetness that I guess I'd always known about but never fully realized.

Months slid by faster than I could believe. I gained a growing assurance that I loved her for herself and not just as Jen's little sister. What wasn't to love? She was pretty in the girl-next-door sort of way. Where Jen had always been calm, Angie had a natural gaiety about her that made folks smile whenever they saw her. She didn't have Jen's outgoing kindness and thoughtfulness for others but she was kind and caring in a narrower sense. It took her time to make friends but when she did, you knew you were a friend forever.

We would cuddle most days that we had a date but neither of us seemed in a rush for something more physical. It's hard to explain but we had an intimacy that many couples can only gain through physical contact.

During the Thanksgiving dinner that fall, Robert's wife, Marie, was talking about a wedding shower she had gone to. When she finished Dad looked at us, one by one as we sat across the table from each other, and asked, "Well, when are you kids gittin' hitched?"

With great interest, everyone looked at us. Angie and I made eye contact and I could see the question there. I nodded at her - letting her know that whatever she wanted to say was okay. We had talked in general terms but nothing specific had been decided. Actually I was very interested to hear exactly what she would say.

"Well, Jim and I would like to get married on Christmas Eve, here in the house." She looked over at me and I smiled so she continued, "Then Christmas morning we will be here for our traditional gift giving and then we will leave for our honeymoon."

She had tears in her eyes - I think I did too - and everyone got up and gave us hugs.

It worked out just like she said. We got married on Christmas Eve with just friends and family around. We slept together for the first time in her small bed in her room. That's the way she wanted it.

It was a slow, beautiful sharing of many tender moments. We both knew that wild passion would come later. That first time was more of a recognition of our joining together in marriage and a seal of our shared love.

I woke in the night and had a sense that Jen was smiling down on us. It was like she was saying goodbye and wishing us well. I could feel the last vestiges of the darkness that had been so much a part of my life after she died melt away in a happiness I'd never expected to find.

~~~~~~

The next summer, Angie wanted to go to the beach. With an air of mystery she said, "I just want to check on something."

We walked slowly along the beach, holding hands and marveling at the beauty of the summer morning, dashing in and out of the gentle waves that seemed to greet us with a smile. We got to the little cove, sandwiches in hand, and stared at the emerald green water. As the sun rose higher in the sky, slowly, and we ate our sandwiches, the water started its metamorphosis to a deep blue.

I'd told the story to Angie of how the sea wouldn't change for me anymore. There was a look of wonder on her face as she watched the magical change of hue. When she realized the water was truly a deep blue and all hints of green were gone she threw herself on me with a squeal. She blushed prettily and whispered one word in my ear.

"Did you say daddy? Me? Really?"

She smiled her yes and together we made love in that private cove with an abandon that would mark our lovemaking for many years.

IF I LOOK HARD ENOUGH INTO THE SETTIN' SUN MY LOVE WILL LAUGH WITH ME BEFORE THE MORNIN' COMES