One
1705 Words
"Wilbert!"
The warden repeatedly knocked his cane into the prison bars, while his eyes did not stop running, staring at the inmates at one by one who was on the grounds of Ironport prison.
"Wilbert Greghtant!" he repeated. "Your lawyer is coming," he continued, as a man with an unkempt beard approached him.
"I don't have a schedule to see her."
"It's none of my business. But your lawyer is in the waiting room."
Wilbert sighs before finally following the warden. There, in the middle of the waiting room, Mrs. Cassie Frost, his lawyer who is more than half a century old, smiled to greet him.
"I have good news for you. Sit down!"
Mrs. Cassie opens her briefcase, then pulls out a map and pushes it in front of Wil's body.
"It was a court decision that gave you 15 years of remission, because of your good manners while you were here. You know what that means?"
"Tomorrow I'm going to get out of this prison," Wil said with a stare still focused on the map before him.
"That's right. But you don't think you're happy to hear that?"
"Did you understand me during my time as a lawyer?" asked Wil with a smirk.
"Don't act stupid, Wil. Don't let you go back to prison again. Once out of here, find a job and live well."
"My status as an ex-convict will not allow that."
Mrs. Cassie reached out to grab Wil's left hand. Pat him down there, trying to make sure he'll be okay after he gets out of jail.
"I'll help you find a suitable job."
"No need—"
"I insist," cut Mrs. Cassie. "All right, I gotta go. I still have a lot of cases I have to take care of. Here, call me anytime," she said, giving her a name card.
"You're so nice to me."
"Wil, I know you're a good young man."
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"Don't come back here. You're too good to live in a place like Ironport's."
Wil smiles at the warden who drove him to the prison exit. "I can't promise," says Wil, then steps away from the Ironport prison that has held him for fifteen years.
Fifteen years is a long time for Wil to spend his youth there, for one mistake he made in defense of his father. Wil will never regret what he did to those bastards. The bastard who comes to his house while he is asleep then drags his father out of the house. A few days later, Wil meets his father in prison. As if that wasn't bad enough, two weeks later, Wil gets word that his father died by suicide.
Wil's move ends in front of a simple house that has long been unkempt. The weeds are almost half Wil's height, as well as wild plants that creep on walls and fences. Wil slightly pushes the fence, then steps towards the side of his house and finds a weathered wooden box. Wil opens the box and takes a key to the door to get into the house.
It's still the way it used to be, like the last time he saw it.
Wil pulls out the white fabrics covering his furniture and immediately sits on one of the sofas. His gaze falls on a dusty photo frame whose cover cloth falls off. In the photo, Wil smiles next to his father and shows off his fish from the lake—it's his last photo with his Dad. How hard Wil tried to get all the memories with his father, those memories bursting into his mind instead. How hard Wil followed Mrs. Cassie's advice, but his heart still holds a grudge against everyone who caused his life to end as it is now.
Wil soon rises. He doesn't want to linger contemplating his fate. Mrs. Cassie said was true. He should immediately find a decent job. However, the problem is that Wil doesn't have any skills other than martial arts. That's what he gets by training with other prisoners. Wil rushes to clean the house and himself then goes to a tavern not far from his house.
The old man who owns the shop still looks the same, only a slight white color to his beard and hair. When the two meetings, Wil can see the shock and tears in his eyes. The old man immediately leaves the cash register, greets, and hugs Wil tightly.
"How did you get here? What—"
"I'm free, Vernon."
Vernon still stares disbelievingly at Wil—his best friend's son who for years refuses his prison visit. Now, the young man who used to play with his son is back standing in front of him. Vernon couldn't resist and hugged Wil again.
"I'll make you your favorite meal."
"Do you remember?"
"Of course, your favorite food is also my favorite food and your father's. Spaghetti."
Wil laughs at Vernon's words and immediately follows him to sit on a chair in front of the bar table.
"How's your shop business?"
"It's getting crowded."
"Peter?"
"He's married and now lives with his wife. Four hours drive from here." Vernon rolled his eyes lazily. "Makes me lazy to go to his house. Luckily my two grandchildren are so sweet. That's what makes me willing to go there every weekend."
Soon, a plate of spaghetti and a glass of beer served in front of Wil. Wil immediately devours it.
"Have you seen your father?"
"I haven't dared to go there."
"Why?"
Wil grabs his beer. "I haven't been as good a kid as he'd like. Go to college, work in a suit and tie, buy him a used car or hundreds of cans of beer."
"Wil, your father must have understood your situation. Now, focus on your future."
Wil nods weakly with Vernon's advice.
The atmosphere of the afternoon shop was not too crowded. Only a few families enjoyed Vernon's spaghetti, and three truckers happened to be Vernon's friends. Wil still can't believe he's here. Usually, at the same hours, he'll be in the Ironport prison grounds with other inmates, playing ball, cards, or just sitting around lamenting fate. But now, he's done eating a plate of delicious spaghetti, cold beer and enjoying the kids' ravings about their school.
"Where's your toilet? Please! Tell me where your toilet is!"
Wil turns around and finds a woman with a gasp, yelling at Vernon.
"There," Vernon replied. "On the left side of the hall."
Without a word, the woman walked hastily toward Vernon's designated direction. Leaving Vernon and Wil staring at each other confused at the behavior of the brunet-haired foreign woman.
"Maybe she wanted to cry because of broken hearts. That's why she needs a toilet," Vernon said.
Just as Wil was about to respond, Vernon's door opened loudly to the sound that made all visitors, including Wil turn around quickly. Two men with large bodies immediately approach Vernon by shaking the table.
"Where's the girl in the blue shirt? She's here, isn't she?"
Vernon glances at Wil who shakes his head. Wil knows, that the girl these two men are meant, to be the girl who just finished yelling at Vernon and is now in the toilet.
"I've been standing here for a while, not seeing the girl you're referring to," Vernon replied quietly.
The two men turned their backs to stare at Vernon's terrified customers one by one. Then one of them walked down the toilet aisle. Wil jumps right out of his chair and precedes the man's steps.
"Hey!" he protested.
"I'm sorry, I can't stand it anymore," Wil said as his hands covered his side. "I have a problem with—" Wil glances at his side.
"I don't care about your business!" annoyed the man and allowed Wil to pass.
Wil's rushing. When he gets to the front of the toilet, the door opens. Wil hastily pushes the girl and arrests her before the protest sentence manages to get out of her mouth. With his hand, Wil covers her mouth and immediately turns the doorknob and locks it.
"There are two big men outside looking for you," Wil whispers.
The girl's eyes widened.
"You're avoiding them, aren't you?"
The girl nodded.
"Then shut up until Vernon tells us to get out."
"Hey! What are you doing inside! Who are you talking to?" snapped the stranger while kicking in the bathroom door.
"Did you forget? I have a problem with my urinary tract! I'm talking to myself. I'm afraid of cramped spaces, so I talk to myself so as not to be afraid!" replied Wil from inside the bathroom, still in the same position as the girl.
The man's voice is no longer heard. It looks like he's satisfied with Wil's answer. Soon after, Vernon's voice replaced him and announced that things were safe.
"Let's get out!" asks Wil.
"Thank you," said the girl in the blue shirt to Wil who had returned to sit down to enjoy a beer that Vernon had filled again. "Hey, I said thank you!" She repeats angrily.
Wil is still indifferent and enjoys his beer.
"Miss, he has received your thanks. Better leave him now before the two men come back looking for you here."
"My name is Carmenla! You can call me Carmen," Carmen said, reaching out her hand to shake, but—again—Wil didn't mention it. "You're the weirdest person I've ever met! I want to say thank you and get acquainted!"
"Miss—"
"If you're like this, why did you help me, huh?! Why interfere with my problems?"
Wil puts down his glass, then rises towards the exit.
"Hey! Where are you going?! Hey!"
"Call back those two guys," Wil said as he passed by.
"Wait!" prevented Carmen while holding Wil's arm. "All right, I won't bother you anymore!"
Carmen blows Wil's arm then she walks out of the shop.
"Jerk!"
Wil still hears Carmen's scolding from the parking lot.
"She just wants to thank you, Wil."
"I don't need a thank you."
"Then why did you help her?"
"She looks like a puppy in need of help."
"Puppies? Is that girl that cute?"
Wil smiles at Vernon's innuendo. "She's scary."
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- Writer
