Watercolours

By Cecil Leslie

A vibrant city of many colours still has many shadows. A young black professional, André Reed, has a series of chance encounters with the ethereally beautiful Catherine Lee.

André reaches out of his hard-driving, workaholic lifestyle to a woman radically different from himself yet somehow similar and just as strong.

Catherine, André learns, is food for his soul - she nurtures him, laughs with him, completes him.

But even in a city filled with many different kinds of people, the same old notions about race prevail.

Entwined in a knot of bigotry, Andre and Catherine must struggle for their sanity, and for each other. While André wrestles with a haunting and secret past, Catherine navigates the conflict between new-world love and old-world Chinese tradition.

When a violent crime committed by an Asian triad occurs, members in Catherine´s neighbourhood - and the entire city - cry out for justice. And Catherine might just lose André - and her family - for good.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 3, 2001
• ISBN: 9781469106953

Cecil Leslie

Cecil Leslie was born of West Indian\Canadian heritage and raised in the city of Toronto where he currently works as a Technical Support Analyst for The Toronto Film Festival.

Book preview

Watercolours

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CECIL LESLIE

Copyright ©2001 by Cecil Leslie.

Cover Design by Peter Papayanakis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-7-XLIBRIS

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

Contents

Watercolours

PROLOGUE

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

34

35

36

37

38

39

40

41

42

43

44

45

46

47

48

49

50

51

52

This book is dedicated to God,

My Family, My Friends, and to all

Those who have come and gone.

Watercolours

Open Heart

Can you hear my voice?

Come out of the shadows and into the light

Let me see your colours so rich and deep

Paint life with grace and passion

But wait, be careful not to let the darkness spill

On my canvas

Be crisp and unpredictable but choose wisely

Your mixes and colours,

Magnify my life with colours of yellow, blues, reds,

Pinks, greens and on and on

But wait, be careful not to let the darkness spill

On my canvas

I will be a remembrance of the beauty and ugliness of

Yesterday gone by

I will be the hope of future eyes upon my souls canvas

Will the colours to dance, cry and rejoice!

When the rain falls and the sun beckons from a distant cloud

I am the rainbow of the miracles

But wait, be careful not to let the darkness spill

On my canvas

People will join hands and sing songs of praise

As the light radiates from the life you have given me

I too will radiate life to the sick, hopeless and lost

I will be their photograph of love

Inspired

By

An Open Heart

And

Watercolours

By Ron Sanchez

PROLOGUE

THE STREETLIGHTS OF a

suburban neighbourhood seemed unusually dim as the Lee family proceeds home through a park near a school in a middle-class neighbourhood in the suburb of Richmond Hill. They are returning home from shopping at Big Land Farms supermarket, where they have purchased several bags of groceries for the week. The mother, flanked by her teenaged son and daughter, nervously hastens through the park toward the main street. She would like to go faster but the weight of the bags hinders them. All three breathe a bit heavily and sweat slightly under the heat of the summer night.

Are you sure it’s safe to walk through here at this hour? Mrs. Lee asks her son in Cantonese. This neighbourhood is not as safe as it used to be. You kids always want to take too many chances. We should have just taken the long way. It would have been safer. You both never listen. You think you know it all!

It’ll be OK, her son replies in English. You worry too much.

As they continue to walk briskly, two men wearing leather jackets appear in the distance walking towards them with their heads down.

Who are those two men walking towards us? Mrs. Lee asks.

Its OK mom, the daughter replies. Just keep your head down and let them pass.

As the two men meet the family, one of them suddenly draws a knife from his pocket. The family is startled, as the strangers stand before them ready for any response. The thugs do not realise that a man in the distance is talking on his car phone and watching the situation develop.

The man wielding the knife circles the daughter with a smirk beneath his unshaven face. Well, well, well. What do we have here? A little grocery shopping and a nice looking young lady.

Leave us alone, asshole! yells the son.

The second thug flicks back his long, greasy, uncombed hair. Hey! You got a little too much lip for your own good, little man. Now hand over the money. I know you imports always have a lot of it … and we’ll take the girl too.

No! the boy screams as he lunges at the thug with the long hair.

The son is knocked out quickly with one punch to the jaw. The women gasp and the daughter attempts to come to his aid as the mother strikes one of the men, scattering the groceries. The other man pulls the daughter away from her brother and laughs.

How about a good time little lady?

No! Please stop! she screams as she struggles.

What do you mean, ‘No’? he replies, laughing.

Suddenly a huge, muscular, dark-skinned, bald black man wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans grabs the thug holding the daughter. He picks him off his feet, stares at him and throws him away from the girl like a rag doll tossed by a giant. The second man abandons his struggle with the mother and attacks the unsuspecting adversary from behind. The first man returns to his feet. The large man handles both men easily with the skill and precision of a well-trained martial arts expert. He ends the fight with a solid kick to the face of the thug wielding the knife, flipping him backward onto the pavement. Both men quickly pick themselves up off the ground and limp into the darkness. The mysterious man says nothing as he turns back to the family and reaches down to gently shake the shoulder of the unconscious son. The boy comes to and starts to throw punches at the man, which connect with his jaw but do no damage. The man does not retaliate. He just towers over the family while the women bring the boy under control.

It’s over, you fool! He saved us! the daughter states as she grabs her stunned brother’s arms.

The man helps the family gather their groceries and shares a long and intense but not threatening stare with the mother. It seems to her like the man is looking into her very heart and piercing the centre of her soul with his strong but compassionate eyes.

Thank you very much, she says softly in near-perfect English as he hands her the last bag of groceries.

Yeah, thanks! the two teenagers say excitedly to whom they now perceive to be a superhero standing before them.

No problem. He nods graciously and walks towards his car. The family watches in awe as the man, coolly, drives away.

The family heads back toward the main street. Mrs. Lee is still dazed but has recovered enough to scold the teens strongly in Cantonese. Now, will you both listen to me? We will not report this. I do not trust the law in this country and we won’t tell your father. You know his heart already! Is that clear?

Yes, both teens respond sheepishly.

Little does Mrs. Lee know, that for a man that she will never see again, he and this chance encounter, will profoundly affect her outlook on key decisions for her and her family in the very near future.

1

ANDRE REED, A young black

32-year-old sophisticated and confident executive is about to celebrate the closing of a lucrative, hard-fought business deal. His stunning good looks hardly reflect his age so much so that he could easily pass for a 25-year-old college grad without anyone arguing to the contrary. He sports a conservative haircut designed for both success in the business world and ease of grooming for those rushed, early-morning sprints into the office. His hair is high on top and low on the back and sides melding flawlessly into sideburns, a goatee and a neat moustache. He exudes a quiet confidence in a mysterious yet open manner. His immaculate, dark blue pinstripe suit fails to mask his six-foot-one athletic build, which looks like it could spring into action at the drop of a dime. He speaks softly, yet confidently with a strong deep voice. One can tell from the moment he opens his mouth that this is an affable man of a higher learning and deep perspective.

Andre is surrounded by five of his colleagues as he enters his huge expensively furnished office that would be the envy of any top executive. His colleagues David, Joe, Russ, Steve, and Mark surround him. Andre and Mark, who is of East Indian descent, constitute the only visible minorities in the room of celebratory men. All the colleagues are

in business attire with only David and Joe not wearing their suit jackets.

David starts the congratulations You’re the man!

Joe joins in Can I be your friend?

David continues, I guess all those late nights finally paid off!

Mark asks So what now big guy? You going to hit the international markets next?

Andre finally speaks up amidst the congratulations. Maybe. But first I’m going to take it easy for a while and cut back to some regular hours. But I will say that anything that I decide to do, we will do as a team. I couldn’t have made it without you guys backing me all the way. And just to show my appreciation I’ve got a surprise for you boys just in time for this auspicious occasion.

Andre pulls out a box of Monte Cristo cigars and a bottle of Dom Perignon out of the bottom drawer of his mahogany desk along with some champagne glasses he had already prepared for the celebration at hand. He enthusiastically passes out the cigars and pours the champagne generously not caring if some spills on the floor. All the men light up the cigars and begin puffing away pompously just as Joe coughs slightly with his first puff.

Mark exclaims enthusiastically Now, that’s what I like about this guy. He’s all class!

Russ questions Andre in a friendly manner, "You knew you had this one in the bag, didn’t you?

Well, Andre replies, you better believe it baby.

Laughter breaks out among all the men as they share champagne and smoke the cigars.

David breaks in, You knew all the time and you didn’t let on to anybody?

Mark interjects Hey, that’s Andre’s style. Our fearless leader. Private as hell. Keeps his work and his private life totally separate.

But he gets the job done! adds Russ.

And makes us all richer in the process, says David, jovially.

Laughter once again breaks out among the men as Andre raises his glass. "Here’s to us! The future is ours. And I promise you that I will

take you where no man has gone before—international!"

Here! Here! exclaim Andre’s colleagues, drinking to the toast.

Just at that moment a middle-aged woman walks into the room and catches the men by surprise. She is one of the big bosses! She is a 55-year-old strong and wise Caucasian woman who is extremely well respected by everyone. She walks at a moderate pace as if to demand respect with every step that she takes, she is no-nonsense without being in your face all the time while at the same time being gentle and caring with other people’s emotions. She has a very down to earth sense of humour, which she is more than willing to share with everyone she encounters. But make no mistake; she is as strong as she is generous. Her name is Mrs. Vanessa Valmont.

How about a Woman? She says as she responds to Andre’s toast.

The men straighten up immediately and hide their cigars. Steve, who was holding a coffee at the same time as the Champagne and smoking a cigar, spills the coffee on his groin and cries out.

Don’t worry Steve! jokes Mrs. Valmont. I’m sure you haven’t used that since the eighties!

The tension breaks as everyone in the room breaks out in laughter. Even Steve smiles, a crimson colour now spreading across his cheeks.

Mrs. Valmont continues, You boys know I prefer the company of men. Now how long am I going to have to wait before you pour me a glass of that stuff? Clowns, all of you! And you don’t think I know what you’re hiding with the room full of smoke and that smell? Get rid of those awful things! No smoking in this building anyways!

The men immediately converge on Andre’s desk, stamping out their cigars in the large ashtray reserved for clients.

Andre pours Mrs. Valmont a glass of champagne. She proposes a toast. Let me propose a toast to Andre for all the long hours and tremendous sacrifice that brought us to this point. The extra revenue that this deal will bring our company will also bring our team a lot closer to the number one position within the organization with business machines on a national and international level. Congratulations Andre on a job well done.

Everyone in the room once again exclaims, Here! Here!

Mrs Valmont proceeds to state, There will be an extra bonus cheque for everyone on this team as you know, as well as a paid vacation for two for … two weeks in Negril, Jamaica! Hedonism everyone! Maybe Steve can finally break his drought!

All the men laugh and show their generosity to Mrs Valmont. She accepts their appreciation graciously and then demands a private moment with her star quarterback, Andre. Gentlemen, may I have a word alone with our star?

The colleagues reply, Of course, Mrs. Valmont. And thank you again. They leave respectfully, giving their final thanks to Mrs. Valmont as if the Queen of England herself had just knighted them all!

Mark, the last man to leave, gives Andre the thumbs up just before he closes the door behind him.

Mrs. Valmont turns to Andre as he stands prepared to hear what she has to say Andre, you have made me very, very proud of you. I know you don’t like to talk about this subject, but I knew your mother well, and she would also have been extremely proud of you.

Andre solemnly lowers his head.

Mrs. Valmont carefully continues, I told your mother when you were born that you would amount to something special. Just like she was special. She delivered all three of my boys, you know. She would have been so happy to see you in this position. As I am. She pauses and her voice changes to a professional tone. Now, back to business. I want you to hit our international markets gradually. I also want you to get back to some regular hours and go play ball with those bunch of rebels you keep company with. Say hi to your father for me and tell him to give me a call sometime or you’re fired! She begins to walk out of the office. Oh, and one last thing, Andre … it’s time to settle down. You’ve kept your own company for far too long now. It’s time to let someone inside those walls of yours that you keep so high. Once again, great job! Now relax. And don’t forget about that wedding in a couple of weeks.

Andre replies, I won’t and thank you, Mrs. Valmont. I’ll keep your advice in mind.

Mrs. Valmont replies sternly, Good.

After she departs, Andre reflects for a moment, then dons his long black summer trench coat, and grabs his briefcase and leaves.

2

ANDRE HAS MADE his way

over to another office building which is within walking distance of Andre’s own high-rise workplace to meet his best friend, Horace. Its now just after quitting time and people dressed in business attire scurry around like ants amidst the towers of glass and concrete that glare down on them in a near godlike and foreboding manner. As Andre reaches Horace’s building, he dodges and weaves through the crowd of people as they pour out of the doors and into the street in a robotic and frenzied zombie like state. He finally catches an elevator and makes his way to the twentieth floor where he disembarks from the elevator and proceeds to stride down a long corridor. A security guard buzzes him in when he reaches the locked glass doors. A small flashing green light near to the handle indicates that access has been granted. As he passes through the door and turns the corner, he witnesses his friend Horace and his co-worker Billy engaged in a heated and emotional argument inside an enclosed glass computer area known as the bubble room. The many computers inside the sterile environment seem to watch silently as the drama of the argument unfolds before them. Andre, now standing beside Horace’s manager, Paul, cannot hear a single yell, scream, or accusation uttered by the two men through the soundproof glass. They see only angry faces and flailing arms. Horace, a well-built, 6-foot-1, dark-skinned black man tries to get his point across to his slender Chinese co-worker, who struggles to control tears behind his glasses. Watching the argumentative ballet ensue, one can sense that the fight is not personal but a kind of ritual dance between competitors to test the knowledge of the other when a problem with the system occurs. It’s a macho, male bonding, arm wrestle of computer technobabble.

Inside the bubble room, Horace yells, Look what you’ve done, you clown! It’s your fault!

Billy yells back, You idiot! It’s your fault! You never want to take the blame for anything!

You didn’t execute the right file to start the process and now the system is halted! Horace screams.

Billy fires back, I did execute the right file. You just put the wrong commands in the file, jerk!

Horace hotly disagrees. "That’s impossible. I wouldn’t make a mistake like that. Not me. Besides, it was working before, so you must have done something wrong, jerk!

Billy again fights tears, You think you’re perfect, don’t you? It doesn’t matter. McGrath is going to kill us both anyways.

The battle rages on. Neither man notices Andre and Paul watching the fight as if witnessing two heavyweight contenders brawl for the championship.

Andre asks, Hey Paul, what’s going on? Uh oh. These two lovers at it again?

Paul, a slightly overweight white man wearing old fashioned horn rimmed glasses, replies, Yup! This time I’m staying out of it and letting the Odd Couple figure it out themselves!

Horace finally sees Andre and gestures that he will be out soon. Billy also acknowledges Andre, and then they resume the argument without missing a beat.

Suddenly, from down the hall, the big boss, a Goliath of a man, Mr. McGrath, storms out of his office. He has an extremely angry look on his face and is determined to get to the root of the problem, which is more than likely computer related as he is heading straight for the computer room. Paul notices the boss coming and frantically signals to the two battling men that Mr. McGrath is on his way. Horace nods and proceeds to end the argument and think of a solution. Horace boasts to Billy, Step aside, my friend, and watch a master at work.

Horace imitates a Zen Buddhist ritual as he closes his eyes, breathes deeply, puts his hands together in a prayer-like pose, then reaches for the keyboard. He types a few commands quickly and the system immediately comes online just as Mr. McGrath storms past Paul and Andre.

Paul nervously greets his boss, Good evening, Mr. McGrath.

What’s good about it? snaps Mr. McGrath. The big boss flies inside the computer room and tears into Horace and Billy. What the hell is going on in here? Why can’t I log in?

Horace reassures him nervously. Everything is okay in here … Sir.

Billy, who is even more nervous, backs up Horace Sure … Umm … Yeah, everything is fine. You may have logged in incorrectly.

I’m sure if you try it now, sir, it will work, Horace states carefully with a hesitant laugh.

Mr. McGrath pauses for a moment then agrees to try again. It better. Or I’ll be back. And you don’t want that! He storms back to his office.

Horace breathes a sigh of relief and playfully jabs Billy. Punk!

Billy responds, Asshole. See you tomorrow.

Horace grabs his long black trench coat and departs the computer room leaving Billy to figure out what the problem was because Horace’s quick solution was only a temporary fix.

Paul states to Horace, That was too close.

Horace replies confidently, I’ve got it under control. He turns to Andre. Let’s go. See you in the morning, Paul.

Paul replies as he heads back to his office, Yeah, if I don’t have a heart attack first.

Andre comments as they walk down the hall, Man you like to live life on the edge just a little too much.

Hey! That’s what life’s all about!

3

ABOUT A HALF-HOUR later,

Horace and Andre sit at a bar in downtown Toronto nursing a couple of ice-cold beers. The bar is filled with people dressed mostly in business apparel. Waiters and waitresses hustle to satisfy the customers’ needs as conversations in the bar range from who closed what deal to who is sleeping with whom … and where! The bar is a beehive of corporate debate and political gossip watered down by excessive alcohol and hot food. Horace and Andre keep a look out for another close friend as they slowly sip a couple of dark ales.

Where is that guy? asks Horace impatiently.

I don’t know. It’s not like him to be so late. He must have got held up at work. Or maybe he’s sharing some of that funky wisdom with someone, Andre replies.

You mean some woman! Horace responds. What’s with him anyways? Ever since his Pops passed on all those years ago, he gets deeper and deeper. He’s getting spookier than Agent Mulder. He pauses, looks around the bar and continues, The real scary thing about it is that he’s usually right!

Andre agrees, "I hear ya! But they say traumatic events like death can bring out these things in certain people. But he’s cool. You just better not let him hear you talk about him like he’s some kind of freak

before he puts some kind of curse on you! You know what I’m sayin’?"

Horace concurs, I hear that!

Speak of the Devil! says Andre as he sees Ron enter the bar.

Ron walks in slowly. He is well built, handsome and clean-shaven, with the exception of a well-groomed moustache. His jet black hair is wavy to almost straight revealing a multitude of different ethnicities in his Trinidadian blood, which compliment his smooth, fair skin perfectly. He too is an athletic 6 footer who wears a confident yet quiet smile. He looks around and spots Andre and Horace across the room. He glides across the room almost in slow motion towards his two impatient friends, oblivious to the bustling environment around him. Without even looking at what he is doing, he coolly catches a glass that drops from a waitress’ tray. He hands it back to her while looking warmly, almost teasingly into her eyes. She takes the glass from him and watches him in amazement as he continues on his way. Ron finally reaches Andre and Horace. Fellas! he says with an easy smile.

Andre and Horace shake hands with Ron. What’s up Big Guy? How’s it going?

Ron explains his tardiness, "Sorry I’m late. Month-end