The Yellow Umbrella

by Judy Ma

My car had broken down a few days ago, just as I was heading home from work for the weekend. It was an old car to begin with and the mileage was high enough to have traveled the US a few times. But even so, she got me places and that was all that really mattered. I say “she” because when my dad first taught me to drive, he told me that cars had to be treated like princesses, handled with extreme care as if your life was on the line. It made sense to me so I said nothing back to contradict him.

I was two blocks away from home when my driving streak of all green lights was interrupted with a yellow light. I knew that I probably could have made it before the light turned red, but I wasn’t in a rush so I stepped on my breaks and slowly decelerated as I approached the intersection. There weren’t many people on the sidewalks as usual besides two students walking home together, carrying backpacks at least three times their size. That was when I noticed a bright yellow umbrella bobbing up and down from the corner of my eye.

I couldn’t see the person’s eyes from where I was because of how low the umbrella was, but I was close enough to notice a small Hello My Name Is nametag right on their lower torso that read Patricia in a slim slanted font. She walked with her legs awkwardly bent in a pair of uncomfortable looking red pointed heels and thick stockings that looked like they had a design of repeating short lines. On her thin body was a simple strapless dress that hugged her legs all the way down to her knees. Her nails were long and painted a matching red like those generic nails that hand models on late night infomercials always have. I thought the whole attire along with bright umbrella was just plain hideous.

I leaned over the steering wheel and arched my head upward to get a better view of the empty blue sky and just as the forecast had predicted, there was no way that it was going to rain today. I refocused towards the direction of where she was, but by that time she had already disappeared.

As the light turned green, I noticed that I came to a complete stop altogether and my car was completely silent. My engine had died out on me.

* * *

The second time I saw Pat was at a bus station, waiting for my ride to work. I was sitting at the wooden bench, drinking my thermos of strong black coffee when I noticed a familiar yet different yellow bobbing from directly across the street. As the caffeine began to kick in, I came to realize that it was the woman from earlier that week however there was something different.

The umbrella traveled more smoothly today than before. Did she finally realize that her pair of red hooker heels might have been one size too small? I looked down towards her shoes and saw that she had on a pair of shiny black business loafers which were slightly covered by a pair of black slacks. The shiny jewelry that once clung to her wrist, transformed into a wide wrist watch and the bright red fingernails were no longer there. Against the metallic watch, on her upper thigh was a blue outlined name tag.

Her name tag clearly read Patricia the day before but I must have been mistaken and read the name wrong. My eyes had never been bad enough to need glasses though. The Hello My Name Is sticker no longer had the name Patricia written in a sleek print; instead the name tag read Patrick in a bold black font.

My eyes curiously looked at her face.

A light mustache forming on her upper lip, a sharp five o’clock shadow, she was definitely a he.

His dirty blonde hair reached just above his broad shoulders and his accompanying frameless glasses made him look like any other person on the street, except with an oversized opened umbrella on a clear and dry day. A thin shallow v-neck hung loosely off his thin frame. In his left hand, he held a mysterious gray object that looked like it was a piece of a computer. I stood up to get a better look at it, but he had already turned the corner.

It wasn’t like he was extremely bad looking or anything because he was fairly decent looking for a man. But the image of the red heals and generic nails had already engraved themselves into my memory. What kind of normal man would go around dressing up like a woman? Maybe he came from a costume party or perhaps ran out of clothing because every single article of clothing was in the wash.

I looked down the street as I took another sip from my black coffee and knew that I would be late again.

* * *

Peter, the firm’s receptionist, was sitting at his post, drinking from his World’s Greatest Dad mug that he got from his kid last year as a birthday present. A guy that invested most of his life savings in small business stocks instead of using the money towards his kid’s braces sounded like one hell of a dad to me.

“Morning Pete,” I called as I walked towards the elevator door, as quickly as I could to avoid any mind numbing talk about his stocks.

“Hey McClendon! Did you see the papers yet? My stocks –”

I ran for the elevator and squeezed into the group that was obviously irritated that I didn’t wait for the next one. I sighed, relieved that it wouldn’t be until lunch that I would have to approach Pete again.

“What floor?” A slim young woman in a deep gray pencil skirt and white ruffled shirt asked me in a perky voice.

“Fifth please. Thanks.” I stood in the elevator cramped and uncomfortable as co-workers chatted small talk.

“I know right? I’ve never seen anything more revolting.” I over heard a man in his late twenties whisper to someone else.

“Exactly, I mean he’s pretty much bringing it on himself!” Someone else said with a tone of obvious disgust.

The number five in the row of numbers above the elevator door finally lit up at five. I gave out another little sigh as I stepped out onto the carpeted floor and walked straight to my desk. Working at this non-profit firm for over three years, I have grown accustomed to a few daily routines; greeting Pete at the front desk, cramming myself into elevators, and checking my daily mail that is always freshly splayed across my desk.

I started shuffling through the various envelopes; an ad for guaranteed weight loss while still being able to eat my favorite foods in as little as 8 weeks, a letter from my downstairs colleagues inviting me to his engagement dinner, and a colorful flier. I quickly scanned the flier before deciding whether or not it deserved the shredder but then I realized that it was an announcement for a social event for the entire firm.

The event was a proposed outing at night to the local carnival that had stopped by town. I’ve never been to a carnival before as a child and wasn’t planning to do much outside of work anyways. Not saying that I could do much with the car still in the shop.

I noticed Henry across from me at his desk reading the entertainment section of the newspaper. He had the rest of the newspaper with finance facing up; Pete must have got to him while he headed to the elevator and referred to that section.

“Hey Henry, you mind giving me a ride to this carnival thing on Friday? If you’re going that is,” I asked casually, just as I have been asking for favors from him from the past year. He was the type of guy that had a busy life, but when someone needed his help he would always squeeze in the time.

“Oh, I wasn’t really planning on going. Ever since I was a kid I didn’t like the fact how the vendors was able to take apart the rides like a Lego set and just pack it up in a trailer and head on off to their next city and – ”

“Okay, Okay. I get it, you don’t like carnivals. No need to get emotional there Henry.”

“Actually, my folks live about five minutes away from the carnival, and it’s on the way too, so I can swing by and give you a ride.”

“Awesome! How does five o’clock my place sound? I want to change first before heading out.”

“Sure thing.”

* * *

On the afternoon of the carnival, I threw on a light navy sweater and placed a twenty dollar bill in my pocket as I waited for Henry to come pick me up. Just as he said, he was in front of my house at five o’clock sharp.

By the time that we got there, the sun had already long set. I could see the carnival lights dancing in the dark sky as Henry pulled into the muddy temporary parking lot.

“Come back with all of your fingers okay?” Henry said in a light but almost serious tone. I didn’t know if he was actually joking or not.

“I’ll try my best… thanks for the ride,” I gave him a smile.

I slammed the door and walked towards the portable ticket booth. There was two couples in front of me as I waited my turn to pay.

“Next in line,” a woman that looked like she lived with a biker with tattoos all across her right arm said in a bored and disgusted tone. From the small opening in the bulletproof or plain plastic window, I could smell the stale cigarettes that were littered across the table.

I took out my twenty and paid the two dollar admission fee. As I walked pass the overweight security officer to the carnival, I realized that it was just as Henry described from his childhood fears. Everything looked as if it would break apart instantly with their rusty metal parts, squeaky joints and dented rides. I questioned whether or not this carnival even met the city’s safety regulations.

“Claire!” I heard a familiar voice call out to me from behind. “Wait up!”

I turned around and noticed that it was Pete with a big group of people from the firm.

“Hey Pete! Where are Kathy and the kids?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t like these kinds of things. I think the wife took the kids out to go grocery shopping or something, I’m not too sure,” he said with a shrug.

“Right,” I rolled my eyes. Just then I noticed a bright flash from the corner of my eye, and for the third time, I saw the same yellow umbrella turn the corner. I walked a little forward in that direction but he had already disappeared.

“Pete! McClendon! Come on, everyone’s about to get on the ferris wheel right now!” A man from the firm shouted.

The ferris wheel was not like the typical, two seated ride. Instead, each cart was able to hold four people and so I got on with three others from my floor. From the platform leading to the cart was about a half foot of space in between, a small child being able to easily slip through if he wasn’t careful. Our cart creaked and rocked with the light wind, I saw a few of my co-workers close their eyes shut in fear. As we reached the top, I could see the freeway on one side, and pitch blackness on the other side from the deep body of water below. I looked down at the carnival and from the bird’s eye view that I had, there it was, the yellow umbrella. I noticed that the umbrella wasn’t moving, just still next to some booths. After four more rotations, the five dollar ride was over and we all got off.

I separated myself from the rest of the group and headed over to where I saw the yellow umbrella from the top of the ferries wheel. I walked past little game booths, each one yelling at me to come play their games for over sized stuff animals. I walked faster as tried my best to avoid all eye contact with the vendors. At first I couldn’t see what the attraction was, but after the people that surrounded the booth slowly spread out, I could see everything clearly. On top of the booth there was a thin piece of wood that read in black spray paint, For those people that have ever judged me…. I looked into the booth where he was standing with his opened yellow umbrella, turned around in the far corner.

In the booth was a vast board filled with Polaroid pictures of people. The thing that sent chills down my back was that there were people that I recognized. The two boys that walked home together everyday with their oversized backpacks, the two men in the elevator that I overheard talking about something insulting, Pete at his morning post in the lobby, Henry with his daily newspaper in his hand, and just as the man moved, I saw my own picture. I saw the side view of myself in my navy blue sweater.

Pat turned around and looked up from his red dress and uncomfortable looking heels. In his hands was the bulky gray object that I once mistook for a piece of a computer. I saw his face plastered in heavy make up and his once shaggy hair was now curled into neat locks. He wore his Hello My Name Is Patricia and stared at me with a wide yet civilized grin.