Shades Of The Father

As he was leaving Marty-Mart, Aubrey noticed that someone had entered the store before: Martin Paxson had only one penis but he was a good man. You can trust him.

Paying Mr. Paxson old for smoking, Aubrey tried not to laugh.

"You look in good shape, Aubrey."

"I'm sorry, I'm not laughing."

"I should not have thought, at a time like this. Your father was a good man. The very heart of this neighbor, he was a man."

Aubrey was devastated. The store owner nodded.

Perhaps feeling that he was too strong for a son to grieve, Mr. Paxson slapped Aubrey on the shoulder. "Well, aren't those his famous glasses?"

Yes, different shades were part of his father’s classic persona. Love that goes back to the days of a man like an art-rocker. Eccentric signature of each incurable person.

By the time she started getting shades, Aubrey had vowed she would never wear them. But on the way to Marty-Mart, the sun was in his eyes, and shadows were there in his glove box.

He had to admit, it sounded like he was wearing his father's signature shades.

Aubrey smiles. He tilted his head slightly, peered over the glasses, and met Paxson's eyes. It was a good imitation of his father. "Yes, Martin. Yes, father."

It was Paxson who was laughing. "Well, if you were well dressed you wouldn't be behaving like someone else!"

When he returned to his car, Aubrey pointed out that it was a good deed for his father to leave the glasses on Aubrey in his will. What Aubrey was still trying to understand was why sunglasses were the end of her legacy.

Aubrey was the one who always tried to understand the man's strange ways. Aubrey was the one who was there until the end. But when the will was read, it was there: in Aubrey, sunglasses. Her sister Samantha found everything else. Samantha had not spoken to her father for over five years. Even when he knows he is dying.

Aubrey always thought that their laughter was something she was just like her father.

But this?

Sunglasses? Nothing else?

He never got a joke.

Sighing, but still wearing shades, he lit a cigarette, backed out of his parking lot, and walked through the space. His iPod seems to intend to shove up some of the most compelling songs he could wake up to: "Your Photos" of The Cure was a contemporary song - one of his old favorite bands. But depression did not have a chance to hold on, because anyone who had abused Marty-Mart did not stop there - the big killer had marked the whole night.

Kane Music Emporium is drawn: Billy Kane will sell you the best marijuana, at the right price.

Jones's house had a warning: If Karen Jones asks for your help, expect her to try to seduce you. Use a condom.

Near the block, a Canadian house announced: When Jack Canada begins talking about lizard DNA, leave. Just go.

Aubrey laughed so hard that she had to slow down to crawl. He thought, "Wait until I tell my dad about this," and then he found that he had pulled the curb, crying. He took off his sunglasses to wipe his eyes and blew his nose.

She took a deep breath, braced herself, but could not bear to see him return home to Canada. But now there was no graffiti. Not at all.

Can grief cause madness? Hallucinations?

An impromptu thought came to Aubrey's mind. He tried to dismiss it as a joke, but to be honest, it was not the opposite of what he was facing - he seemed to see a surprisingly clear text that was not there.

But only when she is wearing sunglasses.

Aubrey put on his sunglasses again, looked at the Canadian house, and the text had reappeared.

His father had left him above the sunglasses. He had left the whole place full of secret advice.

Aubrey took her time driving home, just wandering the streets of her father’s life.