Portland Has Reclaimed Me

Dear You,

This was the core of many of our arguments: My weariness with Portland, of the city with its noise and traffic and crowds. I was weary, but not just of this town…we were both unhappy, this is old news. But here I am now, four years later, living in Portland. I am working as a security guard. Many details I cannot share as employers often follow their employees on line: I am contracted out to a very large company and circle their parking lots. So far, my only confrontations are with the homeless rummaging in the bins for cans. I remind them they are on private property, they grumble and scuttle off. One of them has built a lean to of branches between a tree and the fence shared with Our Client (OC) and a vacant lot. Does it belong to one of the hobos I chase from the bins? Unknown. It is early April so rain falls intermittently. I listen to the radio chatter of OC in case they need my assistance. Last night, a small coyote ran across one of the lots; I tried to follow it but it was very shy.

The ghosts used to be more brutal here: They would beat me with two by fours purloined from vacant lots, stab with rusty nails, gouge and tear at this black thing I call my soul. But they have grown weary, have settled for approaching every so often to rattle their chains. There are still times I feel emotions seeing a street we walked, a restaurant we got pizza from, but mostly the ghosts are silent. I feel them on the edge of my senses, but they are breaking up, impotent. Nevertheless, I never expected to live here again. I said “No” in a firm voice until I realized being so closed off was not in my best interest. Fate led me here again; once I accepted it I had a job within a few days after weeks of dead ends in California. I have no idea where you live and perhaps that is the way it is meant to be.

I looked at an apartment ten days ago. The building is over a hundred years old and downtown on the border of Chinatown and the Pearl. I am pretty sure I am meant to live there, but then again I was pretty sure I was meant to live in California again. The issue is one I have to word carefully: Because I am new at my job I need a letter of verification from my employer to the landlord. That letter has been a challenge to get so my getting the apartment has been delayed. I stayed with friends but with these late nights (I work until 10 p.m.) I didn’t want to impose anymore, so I am in hotels now. Next week I will have no choice but to apply for other apartments.

I am comfortable here in an uncomfortable place. Portland is an odd mix of Progressives with their pretenses of empathy and open-mindedness alongside the homeless with their mental and addiction issues. I walk Hawthorne with its retaurants and shops with their calculated eccentricity, signs in the window tauting inclusion and “Black Lives Matter.” On the sidewalks are the homeless with their odorous rags, hands out, plaintive eyes in dirty faces. I talk to Progressives and, while still compassionate, the compassion has tautness to it, a wire with too much tension. Fentanyl has hit this town hard. If I get an apartment Downtown I will be carrying my pepper spray walking home. I note the homeless with uneasiness; I am one or two wrong moves from joining them, but then again maybe we all are. These times have taken uncertainty, put it on an exercise program, and given it a dozen Red Bulls to drink on a daily basis.

I am giving this experiment a year. Once I have an apartment, I will put together a band and begin playing live. I will take tango classes. I will cook and lead a simple, healthier life. When the ice and gray of winter begins receding early next year, I will re-evaluate. Until then, I will lead my life and write, always write. I have this long story I’ve been working on and I think it could be good to write about being a security guard.

I have no idea where you are but I hope this finds you well. I have no animosity for you now, honestly I never really did; early on I ceded ownership of that to you and you seemed to embrace it: We all have our burdens in life and that is yours and yours alone. I truly have nothing but love and good wishes for you and hope this finds you doing well and closer to that elusive thing we all pursue but rarely find, happiness.

Me