Frank the Painter

By Joshua Kaplan

Frank the painter longs for an orderly and predictable life…but, sadly, it is not to be.

Frank the painter's great mission is to renovate Cleveland with his Sistine Chapel-inspired garage art. A big distraction, however, is his lust for beautiful Carla Gymboni, the diminutive mob boss of Cayahoga County—an obsession that has driven him to clandestine acts of stationery crime. But unforeseen events are about to radically change Frank the painter's life, providing him with an instant family and a motley crew of unusual acrobatic friends. And in the wake of a violent hometown terror attack, he'll find himself careening from breakdown to recovery, from Michelangelo to mandalas, from capitalism to crime fighting, in search of truth, ethical purpose, and a spiritual epiphany or two.

Welcome to Frank the painter's world—a surreal yet strangely recognizable realm populated by gangsters and goons, villains and vigilante do-gooders, little people, Native Americans, superheroes, circus performers, and a hermaphrodite child who just might be humanity's best and last hope.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joshua Kaplan
• Release date: Oct 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9781735861104

Book preview

Chapter 1

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Frank the Painter was born in an industrial section of Cleveland. He worked for ten years painting houses. His specialty was painting images resembling the Sistine Chapel on the ceilings of his clients' garages. Toward the beginning of his career his work was merely tolerated, but he was so thorough and skilled at applying monotones in the other areas of the houses he painted that his customers came to appreciate his penchant for imitating Michelangelo.

One of his customers, who worked part-time as a barista at Starbucks and was an aspiring artist, had hit the jackpot and won the lottery. Marissa Marquez did not know what to do with the million dollars she won. She knew to stop gambling, but she missed burning her meager Starbucks salary on scratch-off tickets. Oddly, the lotto jackpot made her more parsimonious, until she met Frank.

Marissa knew Frank was a good house painter, but she did not like the job he did on her garage. Marissa knew that Frank could improve. She convinced him he had talent. To cultivate that talent, Marissa told Frank he had to travel the world with her.

Frank initially declined Ms. Marquez’s invitation because there was someone else in his life, someone he kept secret. He was stalking a red-headed little person named Carla, who worked for the Department of the Interior. Her job was to monitor inventory and office supplies. Envelopes and ballpoint pens were in high demand and always missing. Frank stole those supplies because he wanted to see Carla. His friend Stanley worked at Graples, the stationery store Carla frequented when she needed to restock. Frank did not break into the commissary often. He thought rightly that he wouldn’t be found out if he applied such a strategy, but he yearned to see Carla, whose head barely reached the counter at Stanley’s shop. Frank would hide in the air ducts when Carla came in and peer at her through the grating. To Frank it was the one thing nicer than smelling fresh paint dry.

Marissa Marquez found out about the spying. She went through the photos on Frank’s phone and found pictures of Carla. She threatened to turn Frank in to the police if he didn’t agree to travel the world with her.

Ms. Marquez, you don’t understand! Carla is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.

Frank, give it up! She isn’t worth it. Your skills will drastically improve. I can show you the Seven Wonders of the World. Stop wasting your money on paint. Stop hoarding envelopes and pens. You will be severely punished if you don’t abscond to Italy with me!

Are there midgets in Italy as beautiful as fair Carla?

You’ll never know unless you come with me.

I have no choice. If you turn me in to the police, I’ll never see Carla again.

I am ruthless. You will fulfill your creative potential! I insist on it.

So Frank gave up stalking the woman he loved, and embarked on a trip around the world with Ms. Marquez.

Frank discovered on their journey that Ms. Marquez had good taste in coffee but smoked too much. The fetid odor of Pall Mall cigarettes surrounded her constantly. On the plane to Italy, Ms. Marquez had an hour-long anxiety attack because she couldn’t smoke.

Frank felt sorry for Ms. Marquez. He knew she appreciated art. He told her he would help her kick cigarettes if she showed him the Far East. He wanted to paint mandalas in garages in Cleveland. His business would thrive if he could corner the market in Asian-themed garage art.

He appreciated the abundance of beauty, architecture, and fine art in Asia. Ms. Marquez bought him calligraphy brushes from Japan and ornate keepsakes of dragons from China. For Frank, Marissa would part with her money. She knew he was going places.

Frank’s trip to Asia with Marissa was epic and memorable. Frank became accustomed to traveling with a woman of means who loved art. Carla became a ghost from the past. He would always cherish his time in the air duct blowing imaginary kisses at Carla, but he and Marissa, as he now allowed himself to call her, made a happy couple.

After disembarking from what ended up being a premarital honeymoon to Asia, Frank immersed himself in painting. The start-up costs of Frank’s mandala-painting business were high because he used the longest-lasting, most colorful paints for his murals. Marissa was good with numbers. She understood Quickbooks and Excel because she had helped her father balance the family checkbook when she was a girl. She applied some corporate marketing trickery learned from her keen observational prowess as a barista, and the business expanded. The new designs caught on when Frank began using spray paint and calligraphy brushes. After a while, every house in Frank’s old industrial neighborhood had a mandala painted on its garage ceiling. The future looked bright for Frank and Marissa.

Chapter 2

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A few months after arriving in Cleveland, Frank and Marissa loved Asia so much that they returned for an encore tour. They stuck mostly to the urban areas where there were English translators, first touring historic sites in Japan and Korea. Tibet was on Frank’s bucket list, so they visited Buddhist temples there next. Frank paid alms to the begging monks and exchanged bright smiles with many Tibetans. They arrived in China late at night, feeling physically fatigued but full of spiritual nourishment. Frank checked in at a hotel, and the concierge inquired if he and Marissa Marquez wanted company.

Company? Marissa is my company.

Frank was puzzled.

No thank you, ma’am, Marissa said to the alluring concierge. Marissa leaned closer to Frank and whispered, This isn’t a normal hotel, Frank. It is a house of ill repute.

Oh. They gathered their belongings to find other lodging.

On their way to the nicer part of town, a little girl of five or six years old followed them by hiding behind traffic lights and dumpsters. Marissa noticed her and offered her Chinese coinage. She accepted happily and disappeared. Later that night in a hotel they rented, Frank and Marissa heard a knock on the door. They opened it: The little girl stood there with a man behind her holding a charred animal corpse which resembled a dog, skewered from mouth to tail. Marissa swallowed a gulp of air and ran to the bathroom. Frank stood there, stunned. The girl said, My father is a butcher and we bring you choice meat.

Frank stuttered, Is that ca-canine meat?

The girl said, Yes, it bark too much.

Frank politely declined the offer of fried dog and asked the little girl and her father to come back in the morning.

The next morning was a long way off. The skewered dog made Marissa sick. Frank comforted her. They snuggled on the hotel bed. Frank anticipated a conflict in the morning.

The sun rose in China. A few minutes after dawn, the girl knocked on the hotel door. She asked Frank to tour her family’s house. Frank left Marissa and followed the girl through a poor neighborhood to a house that was more of a shack. Behind the simple, cramped dwelling was a kennel of healthy dogs, chickens, and one skinny pig. Frank remembered a facility in Cleveland that did animal testing. He thought to himself, ‘If we Westerners can poison animals with soaps, creams, and pharmaceuticals, why can’t the little girl’s family eat dog?’

The father of the girl had a friend who sold cooked insects and exotic produce. He prepared for Frank a dish with every kind of creepy crawly and fermented egg. The tastes were new to Frank’s palate. They made him feel alive, like eating spicy food for the first time. Frank imagined starting a restaurant in Cleveland, but he had to convince Marissa to provide the capital. There would be a beautiful portrait of the Chinese girl he nicknamed Sue on the ceiling of the restaurant.

Sue and her father were respected members of the neighborhood because they provided the poorer members with the most food, which was healthy albeit meager. Sue’s family did not want to leave their country, but they did want to share their food with Frank and escape poverty.

Frank had an idea. Let’s start a restaurant in Asia. He wanted to establish a steady source of income for Sue’s family. He hired a translator and convinced Marissa to use her decorating skills, honed at Starbucks, to design an enticing menu and a dining area with good Feng Shui. Reluctantly, Marissa complied. Though repulsed by the thought of cooking dog, Marissa felt strongly that cosmetic corporations should be allowed to do animal testing, because she wore large quantities of make-up often. Frank convinced Marissa that eating dog was a healthy alternative to Western cuisine. For example, leg of Lab was nourishing, and once Marissa overcame eating a pet, she would enjoy fillet of poodle, Rottweiler stew, fricasseed spaniel, and fried terrier. The list of flavor combinations and ways to prepare man’s best friend was endless.

Frank and Marissa did not want to leave China without Sue. Frank proposed to Sue’s father to bring Sue to America because Frank knew she was precocious and would have limitless opportunities there. Her mind was sharp, and her English would improve. Sue’s father did not want to part with his daughter, but he realized she was destined for greatness. He permitted the adoption with the requirement that Sue write him a letter from America every week, and in it include an English translation. Sue’s father hid his feeling of loss at her departure.

Chapter 3

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Frank was out walking his dog Frodo about a mile from where they lived. Frodo was a white and orange mutt from the shelter whose adoption was paid for by Marissa as a gift for Frank’s birthday. Frodo was loyal, shaggy, was of medium size and build, and walked with a straight neck and a cheerful prance. Frank and Marissa lived in a gentrified block of suburban houses with large yards and picket fences painted in pastel colors. Frank walked down his patio stairs and through the lawn on a cobblestone path, checking his mail at the lamppost marking the end of his property—a true Cleveland spread, with room for three or more cars and potholes two-feet deep in the driveway of an otherwise well-adorned and handsome red-brick Tudor. Frank was sitting on the bench in the park near his neighborhood when he noticed a little person he thought he recognized. Frank passed by the man and rudely stared at him. The man gave him the finger and walked hurriedly the other way. Frank continued walking and noticed an Asian man hanging upside down by his knees from a lamppost. Frank stopped, picked up Frodo, and motioned to the man on the pole. Since visiting China, Frank had developed a respect for Asian culture, and he thought he could learn more about it from meeting an Asian acrobat. He missed the crowded streets, the bicycles, and the face masks in China—well not so much the face masks or the dirty air, but the smell of Chinese food cooking was hypnotizing. The Chinese were friendly and American dollars were valuable there.

Frank felt compelled to speak to the Asian man hanging from the lamppost, but he was distracted by three little people wearing feathered headbands and holding out a nylon sheet. The man let go of the lamppost and did a double flip, landing on the sheet in a choreographed dismount.

Are you acrobats? Frank asked the Asian man, who had landed comfortably on his feet where he stood next to Frank.

Yes, but we can’t afford the costumes we need to start our circus tour.

Frank reached into his pocket, pulled out a hundred-dollar bill, and handed it to the acrobat. You are very talented. I cannot afford to give you this, but your performance was stupendous. My wife Marissa and I will find a way to make ends meet. I believe in funding starving performers and artists. I sometimes put other’s interest before my own. I have a Chinese mouth…, Frank stuttered and took a deep breath, I mean…I have a Chinese mouth to feed. My adoptive daughter means the world to me. I adopted her on a trip to Asia."

I’m Arthur. Nice to meet you. He refused to accept Frank’s hundred-dollar bill.

It is worth more to you than to me, said Frank. Have you considered starting a Chinese restaurant? My daughter knows many recipes from her homeland. My wife and I made a micro-loan to her biological family and they used it to start a sustainable Chinese kitchen and food pantry back in China.

I’d like to meet your daughter and communicate with her family. Okay, I will accept your one-hundred-dollar donation, but what I really want is your dog. I have a dog grooming business. I recruit obedient dogs for the circus. Your dog is not fit for the show but would be an integral part of the training pack."

Oh…my dog Frodo is in training to be a certified companion dog. Frodo needs to be socialized. He is only three months old.

Frank agreed to have his dog assist the circus and requested to be paid five dollars an hour for his time. Arthur and Frank shook on it. Frodo sat with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, panting and wagging his tail.

Frank then took Frodo to a hotel less than a mile from the park. He taught Frodo sit, down, and to make a meaningless face and a whimpering sound when he heard the mysterious phrase hotel existence, an allusion to Frank’s literary taste. Frank invited Marissa to the hotel to show her Frodo’s new tricks. Then Frank and Marissa had passionate sex as if for the first time. The love-making at the hotel existence brought them together more than any of their prior intimate exchanges. It was as if they had consummated their marriage again. Frodo sat curled up in a ball on the bathroom floor. They christened the Hotel Andaluz Hotel Make-a-Moose-Cry because of the sound of their love-making.

The next morning, Marissa paid for the room, and the three of them checked out. This was a new beginning for Marissa, Frank, and Frodo. The two humans wanted to join in making the circus a colorful display of joy. They headed to see Arthur and meet Frodo’s new pack.

Frank the Painter, the little Native Americans, Frank’s dog Frodo, and his newfound friend Arthur met in the park to discuss religious beliefs. They had seen a flyer on a telephone pole inviting pedestrians to congregate and chat about their deeply held beliefs. The circus troupe was open to discussing spirituality but Frank did not know who posted the flyer, so he predicted the turnout wouldn’t be fantastic.

What does this meeting have to do with the circus? posed the tallest little Native American. Let’s talk history: Throughout history my people have been oppressed, killed—not just killed, exterminated—and our culture has suffered from being more spiritually advanced than the Europeans who invaded America.

Yes, Frank said, your people have suffered greatly, but once you knew the white man’s intentions, you resisted him. Therefore, isn’t it true that we must accept the power of military authority in our society? We can’t all love Mother Earth. We can’t all worship nature. Besides, not only does the white man’s religion kill and oppress you, it kills and oppresses others, even those who convert.

A man in full Jewish regalia—teffilin, yarmulke, and payot—got off the city bus and did circles around Frank and Arthur, eavesdropping on their conversation.

Shalom. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Schlomo. I want to discuss religion with this diverse group. I am not permitted by religious law to attempt to convert you, but I’d like to see if you appreciate Judaism. I noticed Arthur is an acrobat. Based on his tattered clothing, I was wondering if he needed a loan for his circus. One-hundred percent of the interest from the loan will go to Israel and the Chosen People. We don’t care for the people of Palestine. Some say they’d be worse off without us.

Let’s not go there, Schlomo, said Frank. There is no one here to defend the Palestinian perspective.

Schlomo, why should we allow you to invest in our poor circus? said Arthur. You don’t believe in human rights. You are waiting for the messiah to come. Other less devout Jews are more careful about separating their investments from their religious beliefs.

Maybe we can come to a compromise. Schlomo grinned. My Chassidic people pray constantly. We adhere to these traditions because we are following God’s rules. You, Arthur, make people smile and laugh. If my people see the circus, then they will see there is more to life than religious observance.

Yes, said Frank, Jews like me are more concerned with compassion, morality, and making the world better; however, we cannot ignore our history. Like the Native Americans, we have been oppressed and exterminated.