by Caroline Tigeress

Created on: January 22, 2009

The Redemption of Thomas McMann

Thomas McMann stood in the small cement room. A wooden bench, affixed to one wall held two paper sacks, the sum total of the possessions that he had on his person when he was arrested seven years ago. In his left hand was a backpack, made from an old pair of jeans. It had in it a few hand-written journal pages, and a couple of small momentos from a fellow inmate of his. Beside the paper sacks was a plastic bag, and it contained the clothing he wore when he arrived at the Oregon State Prison.

One last time, he took off all his clothing in front of a guard, and then put back on the black jeans and white t-shirt that was in the plastic bag. Once dressed, the guard smiled.

"I don't want to see your ass back here, Tom. You're better than this."

Tom smiled, and nodded. "I don't think you will. I've done my time, paid my debt. I've got a few things I want to do, and I've got a few more things I've got to work through."

The guard, a stocky, powerful man proffered him a sheaf of paperwork. Tom took it, and looked over his discharge papers.

"You'll need to check in with your parole officer once you reach the halfway house. I know you aren't going to be on parole for very long, but you know the drill."

"I'm just thankful that there's work in the area. Eugene's not a big town, but I've been told that the skills you guys gave me are in demand."

"We didn't do anything, Tom. You worked hard, kept your nose clean. Heck, I've had harder times sitting my six year old."

Tom chucked.

"I made my mistake, I pled guilty. You have to stand up for what you do even when it's the wrong thing. I don't claim to be innocent, but I do claim to be honest, and to try to do the right thing."
Officer Hiram Nelson put a hand on Tom's shoulder.

"You'll make us proud, Tom. I know it." He turned toward the closed-circuit camera in the room and then tilted his head toward the door leading to the exit room. "Open out"

A series of hard, mechanical clicks followed, and Tom picked up the paper sacks, the plastic bag and his backpack and walked out into the adjoining room. No one waited for him. He was alone in this world. Officer Nelson followed.

"You can leave when you like, the bus runs from out front in about twenty minutes." He handed Tom an envelope containing eight hundred fifteen dollars, and a dozen bus tokens. The money Tom earned while working in the prison construction program, at little over a dollar and nineteen cents per day. The bus tokens were complementary. Both men

• 1
• 2
• 3
• ...
• 10
• Next Page >>