Roger

Lights on. Another day beginning. Last day in this place.

Steve Garrison pulled the blanket over his eyes. It would be another ten minutes before the cell doors opened and the morning check began. It would be his last but he was in no hurry.

Seven years. And now ten minutes before it's over. Or almost over.

It seemed he had barely closed his eyes again when the cell doors opened. Shempert and Harris. Shempert had arrived about three years ago, Harris had been there when he came. Shempert held a trash bag. That would be his discharge clothing.

Not for long but after seven years I can handle it for an hour or two.

He was on good terms with both and didn't even harbor any antipathy towards either. Enough of the money that went into his account found its way into their pockets made it easy with inmates and guards alike. They seemed decent enough and had nothing to fear from him when he was out. Maybe for a couple of guys he had met early it wouldn't be so easy if he ever got around to dealing with them.

"Street clothes," Harris said. "We'll be back in a half hour to take you to out-processing. Gonna miss you."

I'll bet.

Mary Ann had put two thousand a month into his account and he tried to spend it all - mostly stuff for other inmates but some did stuff for the guards. Having a posse made it as easy as being locked up could be made and having the guards greased made it even easier. He had heard from some former prisoners that the only difference between guards and inmates was which side of the bars one was on. He could believe it but hadn't had to deal with any of the bad ones.

Shave and brush teeth, shower and dress. Mary Ann had sent the clothes and he wanted to be as clean as possible. Still the clothes would be discarded as soon as he was outide the prison. Nothing, not even the smell, would be on him in a few hours.

Out-processing was easy enough. He wasn't being paroled - no halfway house or parole officer. He never applied for parole and did the whole seven years. After the first few months things couldn't get worse. Seven years that might have been as little as four but he wasn't going to grovel. He was only fifty-six and three or four years wouldn't make any difference.

"This debit card has your commissary balance," the CO said. "Two thousand three hundred seventy six dollars and twenty three cents. Please sign if this is correct."

How would I know with no way to check it? Not that it matters. Didn't know it was that much. Probably Mary Ann just made a deposit.

He had tried to spend it as fast as it came in but you lose track of things. Might as well use it for something - if what Alex had proposed came to pass money would be the least of his worries.

"You're ready to go. Sergeant Williams will escort you to out-processing."

He didn't know Sergeant Williams or the woman with him. She was a C-2, about thirty. Not anywhere near attractive - if she had been she would have an office job or some other cushy position. Williams walked on his right side and the C-2 on his left.

Out-processing was signing some more papers and another photograph.

To show I was healthy when I left? Probably.

Out the doors to a car at the curb. The front gate was a quarter mile away. Out the gate. Look for a red Cadillac Escalade.

There.

As he approached the street the Caddy moved forward. He got there first and waited. The offside passenger doors opened and two men got out, coming around to his side. One opened the door.

"Hop in," one of them said. "Let's get this show on the road."

He got in and leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes.

"How you doin'?"

Mary Ann. He opened his eyes to see her turned to look at him. The long auburn hair framing an angelic face. Black Ray-Ban aviators pushed back. She looked ten years younger than her thirty-something, what was it? Thirty-six?

"Good," he replied. "Thanks."

"We're going home," Mary Ann said. "Hold on."

He closed his eyes again.

---

"We're there."

Too soon. Want to sleep.

Someone opened the door. He got out.

Mary Ann was wearing khaki cargo pants and a white satin jacket. She came towards him and hugged him.

Seven years since a woman held me. Somebody owes me.

She let go.

"C'mon. Let's get you settled in."

Still want to sleep but want to be awake with Mary Ann.

He didn't recognize the place. Big house, circular drive, the car he had arrived in followed by two more.

He followed Mary Ann up to the door of the big house. The doors opened as they approached, a couple of young men holding them open. They looked like cops. Or military men.

He was in a large room with dark wood paneling and what looked like expensive oriental rugs. Soft lighting, quiet.

"You want to rest for a while?"

"Yeah. I probably should. Can I get out of these clothes?"

"Sure. Let's get you to your room."

Upstairs to one of several rooms along a wide corridor, like a fancy hotel. Mary Ann opened a door.

"Everything you need is here. Whenever you feel like it just call."

Another cleansing routine. No need to shave but brush teeth and shower. Underwear and a robe.

All I need for now. Need to sleep. Want to be with Mary Ann.

---

9:24. They had left the prison somewhere around nine. He'd been asleep for almost twelve hours.

There was an old-fashioned telephone on the nightstand. He picked up the receiver.

Who do I call?

"Yes?"

"I'm awake. What now?"

"Someone will be up shortly."

Mary Ann was up shortly. He was out of bed had put on the robe. She hugged him again and held him for a long time.

"Is half an hour good for breakfast?" she asked.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'll be back. Call if you need anything."

He shaved and brushed his teeth and had another shower. The luxury and freedom still seemed unreal. Everything fit perfectly, Wrangler jeans like he'd worn for years and a long-sleeved khaki shirt. A pair of Timberland boat shoes.

I don't deserve her. Glad she's doing well.

Not that most of the money wasn't his, at least from the beginning. But Mary Ann had done well with it if the house was any indication. He had a few minutes and sat down on the bed to wait.

When Mary Ann returned he went downstairs with her. They had breakfast in a small room off the kitchen.

"A little bit of everything," Mary Ann said. "I remember you like sausage and eggs and wheat toast."

"This is good. It may take a while to get used to normal food."

"No need to hurry. You're back in the real world now and no one can touch you."

"Yeah."

"Jeff would like to see you as soon as you feel comfortable," Mary Ann said. "No business, just spend some time together."

"How's Cheryl?"

"Good as can be. I'm still insanely jealous."

Cheryl and Mary Ann were childhood friends and their rivalry was a friendly one. Two beautiful women being such good friends was probably rare, at least until they were old enough for it to not matter.

He hadn't seen Jeff in seven years - Mary Ann was the only visitor he allowed and that only occasionally. He didn't want anyone else seeing him in prison.

"Give me a day or two. What's with Alex?"

"He says take all the time you need," Mary Ann replied. "A few days won't make any difference."

"I'd like to just hang out here for a couple of days. Probably about all I can stand to wait to get started."

"The room next to yours is set up as an office," said Mary Ann. "Alex set up the computers and everything is synced with his. If you get bored and want to take a look. He says you know the passwords."

Do I, after seven years?

Yeah. Flower54$-Jessica6. Strange the stuff you remember.

"I may take a look. What's with the house?"

"It's been in the family since it was built. My great-grandfather built it. I'm the housesitter this year - it's a family thing we do with several properties. It's April so you'll have plenty of time to find a place you like before we have to move."

"I like this one but wouldn't want to have to pay the bills. In fact I can't pay for an apartment in a bad part of town."

"Sure you can. Check your bank accounts - I've got them bookmarked. The passwords are saved in the browser."

"I don't..."

"Don't say it," Mary Ann said. "You'be been on the payroll of the company for seven years. A company that can buy this house out of petty cash. Well, not quite but..."

"Who am I expected to kill?"

"No one you don't already want to. Some of the people you want are the same ones Alex wants. And Wolverine doesn't hire people to kill people."

"Wolverine? That's a new one."

"Strange bedfellows," Mary Ann said. "Alex will brief you - whether not you want to get involved in that side is up to you."

"Sounds good. Seems there's a lot to learn."

Mary Ann went into the kitchen and returned with two fresh cups of coffee.

"Want to go out on the deck?"

"Sure."

They sat down at one of several small tables on the deck. Mary Anne took out a cigarette case and opened it.

"Smoke?"

"I haven't smoked in seven years and not much then. Probably need to ease into it."

Mary Ann lit a long cigarette with a gold band around the tip.

"These have a bit of cannabis mixed in," she said. "I don't know how it affects you if you haven't had it in a long time. Taking you time is probably a good idea."

She didn't smoke pot seven years ago. Or anything much, like me.

"You've changed," he said.

"Don't we all?" she replied.

"I suppose so. I just don't remember you smoking pot so casually."

"It's all right. Like I said, we change. In my case the only drug I use - besides alcohol - is cannabis and in moderation and for the right occasions."

"When is the right occasion?"

"You'll learn more later but we - I - don't do it for entertainment or to relax. You know how it puts an edge on your perceptions. Especially the five main senses."

"Yeah. Listening to music. The way things feel and taste. What are the non-main senses?"

"Some refer to them as extra-sensory, like it's one thing. Actually there are three."

"I'll take your word for it," he said.

"We've got a lot to catch up on," Mary Ann said. "How about we just enjoy the next few days?"

"Sounds good to me."