Grant walked the rainy streets of Portland, Oregon alone, exhausted and with nothing left but the clothes on his back and a pair of sunglasses, the frames of which were color blocked with black and white and a hint of gray merging with their bridges. They looked very art deco he thought but he didn't understand why he wandered into that blind auction and bid on an object he couldn't see so aggressively. What could have compelled him to do such a thing when he barely had the money to eat now? And he won the sunglasses on the rainiest season in Oregon and a city which is known for its down pour of rain and overcast sky. The sunglasses were out of place and purpose in a city such as Portland. It made no sense he thought to himself, to wear sunglasses on a rainy day like today with the sun hidden behind dark Nimbostratus clouds but he put them on anyway just for the heck of it and convinced himself that he might as well use them for they cost him every penny he had left and now were the only thing he owned. But the glasses he would learn weren't designed to protect the eyes from UV light from the sun at all. They had a much more ominous purpose and intent which was revealed the instant he put them on.

Just as he was thinking about where he could find shelter, if he should look for the mythic Portland Underground tunnels or a place for the homeless something clicked in his mind and a single tear made its way down his face as the glasses started to show him a moment from his life.

Grant was a gambler, impulsive as well as compulsive. He inherited a great deal of money from a relative which would have set him up for life and he wouldn't have to worry about money or how to pay his bills ever again if he hadn't lost more than he inherited through gambling. His gambling addiction caused the inheritance money to pass through his fingers like water through a sift. This was the beginning of a pattern he would repeat throughout his life. He had to find work after his inheritance ran out and he could earn enough money for himself but he didn't handle it responsibly. In stead he wasted his earnings on gambling, extravagant expenditures, trying to live his life like a hedonist. As the glasses showed him the scenes of his use of money, his gambling habit, lack of responsibility etc. he resisted the message they were trying to convey thinking to himself no, the inheritance money was mine to do what I wanted with and the money I earned from my job was also mine and only I am to judge what to do with it. You can't judge me for spending it how I saw fit. This only proved that he was not ready to face the choices of his past and how they impacted on his present. Denial is a form of rejection and he denied that he never did handle his money responsibility or even consciously sometimes for any type of addiction eventually will take over a persons actions and decisions and the person will be driven by it. However, it was not just money which impacted him and his life. The money he gambled away so thoughtlessly and foolishly was just the seed and seeds spread and grow into trees towering over and shading everything and everyone in his life.

He had wanted the guilt after it washed over him to rinse into the street gutters as the Portland rain had been doing that day but it clung to him and he couldn't shake it off though he tried to ignore it. The weight of which became so heavy there had been times he could barely move still he managed to keep trodding down the street hoping to find the location of the Portland underground tunnels. Perhaps there he thought to himself his ghost of choices past would not be able to find or follow him. He was totally unaware that the home of the ghost he was carrying with him all along in those sunglasses he had spent his last dollars on in that auction. The same stupid sunglasses he could not let go of for some strange enigmatic reason. Their lenses were drenched in rain and unlike a windshield on a car there was no wipers to push the rain aside; not even his own hands would suffice doing the job. The Portland rain had blurred them and he could not reasonably see his way or see reason and rain kept pouring. His umbrella could barely hold up. Another gust of wind and he was sure it would be carried away like a scene from the movie “Twister”. Just one more mile, one more block, one more step he thought to himself, for surely the underground tunnels couldn't be far now. They had to appear any minute and when they do he would be relieved at least from the effort to out walk the rain and have a chance to dry off and use the fire the others there would make in those barrels to keep his hands warm. The fire, the fire he began to think and with those thoughts images started to emerge; first of the light and orange and red glow coming from the barrels warm and welcoming. But, then the sunglasses interrupted that pleasant scene his imagination had conjured up with another. The orange glow from the barrels turned into a scene of a house ablaze, people inside frantically trying to escape the fire. Some would make it others would not, the people inside and out screaming “ Where is my son, daughter, wife and husband? What happened to our brothers and sisters? Did they make it out safe?!”Grant knew the answer was no. Why, because he had started the fire. He committed arson and all to cover up a theft he committed. He stole a great deal of money from a family he knew, people who had trusted him and gave him grace, to pay off a debt he accrued gambling and like a coward he fled the scene; went as far  away from the fire as he could get. He had cared about those people at one time but not as much as he cared about evading his guilt over it and facing the consequences of his actions. The glasses made it feel like his heart had just sunk into his stomach. No! He cried out inside. I did not cause it. It was determined the fire was caused by faulty electric wiring. He deluded himself into believing this was the truth but deep inside he knew that he had rigged the wiring in his neighbors and friends house killing some in the process and severely injuring others and the loss to those who survived would be insurmountable for people lost family, lost one another and because human beings always create a life around and within a house , they lost the life they created.

Where was this place Grant asked himself after walking half way through Portland, umbrella rendered useless in the steady torrential rain. By then his clothes were soaked and felt heavy on his body. His fingers began to show creases from becoming wet;his feet and legs were so tired they ached and buckled and he began to feel disoriented. Every street, every building, every old world Portland street light and landmark turned indistinguishable from one another. It started to appear as if he had passed them before, like he had been walking in circles, destined never to find the underground tunnels. Until at last he stopped in front of an apartment building. Why does this place feel so familiar he had asked himself. It had with it a certain kind of emotion, a feeling of personal history and conflict. He then realized he was standing before an apartment building he and his long time girlfriend had once shared. He wondered why something had brought him there, why he had been guided to this place. Suddenly, he felt an unavoidable feeling of regret one in which the sunglasses wouldn't allow escape from. He felt compelled to enter the building and a sense of momentum he was helpless to control or slowdown and stop. The next thing he knew he told the manager of the building he heard there was an apartment which was vacant and up for rent there. So, the manager took him to the apartment and with a key unlocked the door allowing him to enter it and walked away trusting Grant to explore the apartment alone.

As Grant walked across the carpeted floors of the unit he noticed the imprint of their footsteps almost tracing every movement he and his then girlfriend made there, the rooms they entered and left, the pattern their feet made across the floors and the sound of their shoes as they would walk around. All of this created the feeling of emotion for him. He walked around the unit visiting every room until he came to the bed room, the most intimate space two people could share. It was almost as intimate as silence and gesture. His girlfriend was deaf and did not learn to speak with anything except sign language and through silence and gesture. Grant learned sign language so he could communicate with her. Learning sign language was not only the most selfless and considerate thing he did but it will turn out to be the only one. He looked down on the carpet of the bedroom and then in the closet which once contained both their clothes for anything that might have been left behind. There on the top shelf was a silk scarf his former girlfriend , Sera had left behind, soft and intimate, worn close to the neck still with a trace of the scent she wore , her shampoo and skin plus hand lotion all had left a lingering scent which had spelled Sera to him so obviously it could not be ignored or denied. As he began to be overtaken with emotions of sorrow and regret the sunglasses he had on the whole time unleashed the memory of the day of the breakup.

Sera stood in the entry way silent but erect and tense with the look of disappointment showing on her face as Grant reentered the apartment. He had been gone for two days and the rent was overdue. The manager had already been there warning her if they could not pay it soon they would be evicted. There was the click of the lock being released as Grant opened the apartment door. Sera of course could not hear it but she felt the tension and saw him carefully open the door trying not to attract attention to himself.

“Where have you been?” Sera signed to Grant.

“ Why are you looking at me that way?” He had not expected to see her standing there waiting for him with that question. “ That is my own business” He signed back to her.

“ Did you lose our money for the rent gambling again?” she signed

“Baby, don't worry we always find the money for rent somehow, you know it.”

“ No. I always find the money while you find a way to squander it and we are always on the brink of eviction.” she signed in retort.” I always am left feeling abandoned by you especially when things get hard. The manager was just here. I didn't know what to tell her except to sign I understand.” The look on her face finished her sentence, thoughts and feelings. It said for her what her signing could not. I wish I could sign to you that I understand you, understand why you keep leaving, why you don't show me any consideration and why you demonstrate a lack of responsibility but the signs wouldn't be true and my heart doubts you care and knows better. She let her unexpressed thoughts and feelings linger in silence and Grant stood there in bewilderment and exposure. He had wanted to follow behind her as she left to another room, stand in front of her as he signed a thousand excuses, rationalizations and lies but knew better. There was no excuse for the contradictions his gambling addiction had created between his signing to her he loved her and cared about her and his choices and actions. In the morning he heard the sound of her footsteps back and forth in the apartment, the click of her suitcase being closed and the door being opened and shut as she left. When the memory of the breakup between Sera and him had passed Grant stood motionless and silent in the middle of the bedroom floor. He could not speak or sign even to himself. Words and symbols all left him for a moment as tears fell from his eyes.

Devastated he managed to make his way out of the apartment and building. He could escape the gambling of his inheritance away and rationalize that the fire was caused by faulty wiring but not that he had ultimately abandoned the woman he loved and replaced her with his gambling addiction. He felt more than regret.. He felt shame. He wanted to find her and apologize, ask her for a second chance but he did not know where she was. Was she still around? Could he find her and what would he do if she turned him away? Whatever the answer turned out to be he had to try. So he ran frantically from door to door asking about Sera but nobody knew where she was until he found himself in front of her parents house knocking on their door. When they saw him through a window outside their door at first they did not know if they wanted to talk to him. They were grieving. They had obviously been deep in grief over losing someone but Grant had no idea who it was. They greeted him at the door and reluctantly let him in anyway.  

“ I am looking for Sera.” Grant simultaneously said and signed to her parents.“ Is she here?” he asked them. They stared at him in shock and disbelief remaining silent. They read the urgency on his face , the collapse in his posture, the look of not having anywhere else to go for answers. The silence finally broke as they looked at one another and back at him. One of them finally said

“ We are so sorry. We thought you knew. Sera was in that neighbors house which was on fire. She didn't make it out...” her father told Grant as his voice trailed. Speechless once again and consumed with shock, guilt and grief he headed back to the front door when Seras mother approached him before he could leave.

“ Grant.” she started. “ There is one more thing I think you should know. Sera was pregnant.” Grants face was white as he turned around to look at Seras mother. The news that she had been pregnant while trapped in a fire he had orchestrated felt like a gut punch which reverberated to his very core. And the sunglasses let him not only imagine the scene of the fire but feel everything Sera had felt that day.

There had been smoke and flames everywhere. Sera could not see in front or behind her. But she could smell the smoke which began to consume her lungs and feel the heat intensify from the flames. Terror appeared on her face as she tried to bang on the doors, walls and windows but nobody could hear the sound of the banging because they were all caught up in their desperate attempt to survive and their fear that they wouldn't. There was too much confusion all over as everyone was trying to locate one another. Nobody had realized Sera was still in the house until it was too late. They had thought they had accounted for everyone in the house but they hadn't. She had a painful death with third degree burns on her body, smoke which had filled her lungs and an unborn child which never had a chance to have a life or know the father, mother and grand parents. Grant felt it all, the fear and despair Sera had felt during the fire, the pain of the third degree burns and the suffocation from the smoke filling her lungs. He most of all felt her sense of hope leaving her as she realized neither her nor her baby was going to survive and that feeling crushed grant the most, leaving a mark which would remain with him for the rest of his life. Up until this point he could not realize how far he had fallen from grace nor the real harm he caused not just to others but also to his self. He wondered why he had become so myopic or simply just blind. The karmic debt he had accrued was enormous and he knew he had no choice and no place to go except one. And the sunglasses would carry him there.

After leaving the house of Seras' parents his walk to the police station was slow with his head hung down; afraid to meet anyone in the eye. How could he face anyone again after all the selfish and destructive things he did? How could he have been so wrong about who and what he was? A good man doesn't squander his inheritance on gambling he thought to himself. He doesn't orchestrate a fire to distract from his crimes, hurting and killing some of his friends including his pregnant girlfriend whose only mistake was loving an addictive man. I was so taken over by addiction I couldn't really See her . I couldn't be there for her he thought to himself. I wish she didn't hang on as long as she did. She would still be alive and maybe have found a much better man and partner then I ever was and ever could be if she left much sooner. I would rather lose her by her own choice and agency than lose her like I did he thought out loud. Unknown to him the sunglasses had one more thing to show him, one more memory to excavate and examine before he reached his final destination of the police station and it was the one he created right before everything else had been uncovered. It was how he got those glasses in the first place and that memory played out like a short reel's movie. The glasses had tried to allow for him to see everything that happened that day with some sense of detachment and objectivity, but Grant just couldn't be detached now after everything else the memories unfolded anyway exactly how it happened.

Grant felt bored that day and the rain kept poring. He had just wanted to get out of rain just for a few minutes, just so he could relax and catch his breath. As he walked further down the street, he saw that night was falling. The Portland streetlights had been turned on. He had to go somewhere to wait for the rain to recede but didn't know where he could go. Then he saw fliers and posters on lamp posts and trees advertising some kind of indoor auction. He went looking for the auction. He had not intended on bidding on anything let alone winning an auction. He just needed some place to wait for the rain to stop.

When he entered the auction house, he saw many people sitting in chairs while they all waited for the next item up for auction. It was a small item and could almost fit in the palm of someone's hand, he noticed when it was taken out by the auctioneer but, covered with a small black cloth so nobody could see what it was. Still people started bidding on it aggressively, excitedly and determined. One person bid five hundred dollars, and another bid a thousand. Someone placed a bid of two-thousand dollars just for whatever was hidden under that cloth. Grant became swept away by the energy and before he was aware of it he heard himself bidding on it as well until he heard his self-bid ten thousand dollars on the hidden object and the auctioneer declare sold to the man in  the gray raincoat. He looked around to see the man who had won the object and then realized the man in the gray raincoat was him. He had spent the rest of his inheritance on a small object blindly and had no idea what a bargain or disaster he had gotten for those ten thousand dollars. When this last memory had faded, he found himself just outside the Portland police station. How did I get here he thought to  himself before he took a deep breath and ascended the steps which lead up to the place, where  he would face consequences of his choices and actions.