Category : Stories

Sub Category : Drama

Chapter 1 Part 1

The loud snores coming from the bunk below Eddie's filled the silence of the night. It is never quiet in prison. With over 80 people living in such a small area; the sound of toilets flushing at all hours, coughs hacking, locker lids opening and closing, so many sounds blurr together in a humming backdrop. Mr. Pugh’s grunts in between the snores coming from below is a sound Eddie has become completely familiar with. Sometimes a grunt is followed by a whistling noise which comes out like the hiss of a steaming kettle. Eddie smiled at the thought of that. It's been an hour after lights-out, yet he was still wide awake. This would be the last night he would be sharing a room with Mr. Pugh. All of this would be the stuff of memories; sleeping in a two-man cell, calling out his name and number at count, no more evenings locked inside a cage. Come tomorrow, everything he had been conditioned to for the past 32 years would come to an end. It was this thought, more than the snores coming from below, keeping him awake.  

He rolled over onto his stomach and looked through the window. Wire mesh checkerboarded his view. Though his vision was blurred and broken by the shadows coming in through the window, it wouldn’t have mattered. The heat of emotion filled his face and as he had done so many times over the years, he let the tears run freely and quietly into his pillow. They were not the tears of despair or fear this time. This was an emotion that came from behind a long locked door. As he lay there staring at nothing this feeling moved within him as an ocean tide. He often said that sometimes when he looks back thriugh the time he did he can hardly believe how quickly it has gone by, and at other times, he can feel every minute of the years he has spent here in this place. This present moment, this feeling, was like nothing he had ever experienced before. 

A toilet flushing upstairs brought him back to the moment. He scrubbed at his eyes and rolled over blowing through his cheeks. He was exhausted, but sleep was not happening. The guys had sung him out last night. His room partner got a big kick out of taking Eddie before all the FIU student and the hundred other guys in the program. Eddie was the kind of person that cared for others and would stop whatever he was doing to lend someone a hand. It came naturally ti him. He was well liked in the program and the crowd of students and men looked at him standing sheepishly under so much attention lit the room up with banter, smiles, and laughter. Mr. Pugh took the microphone from the podium. “Tomorrow, Eddie is going home!”, he shouted. Everyone cheered loudly for several moments. Eddie stood there looking around the room self-consciously and couldn’t keep his own smile from stretching ear to ear. Raising his hands Mr. Pugh began again. “His journey has been long but now, from this point forward, it is just beginning. All of you are waiting for your turn. It is why we are here. The decades stretch behind us like signpost on a highway and we have made it through every obstacle in our path to get right here where we are today. Last week Eddie received the words we all pray one day to hear, ‘Parole Granted’.” Everyone shouted like crazy as Mr. Pugh turned towards him. “Eddie, don’t be afraid of what is before you. It has been our great pleasure to take part in helping you to prepare for this moment, but you know that knowledge is only information. They are tools in a tool box and unless you pull them out and use them none of it will mean a thing.” Mr. Pugh turned back to the crowd and said, “There is a ritual we hold on the eve of anyone in the program being paroled. We sing them out. What I’d like for all of you to do is grab the hand of the person next to you and spread out through the room.” The excitement escalated and though you wouldn’t think it could have been possible, the smiles around the circle grew even brighter. The circle ended up being big enough to line every wall in the visiting park. Young students holding hands with old men who had spent 25 years or more in prison was quite a sight to see. Eddie had seen it and had been a part of this ritual several times. For over three years he had been here attending this program he had witnessed the guys going home and sang for them as they prepared to walk out the gate the next morning. He had always been deeply moved by this ritual, but tonight, with this night being his turn, he couldn’t hold back the tears and unashamedly let them fall as the “Men Going Home” song began:  

“Well the years have gone by slowly to get me to this place
And I’m not the same man I once was, the miles are in my face
But the journey’s drawing closer to what I’m dreaming of
No, I’m not the same man I once was, my heart’s been changed by love

We are Men Going Home we’re not doing this alone
Tomorrow hold the promise for today
We are Men Going Home after years on our own
Those who went before us paved the way

Well the time has come for freedom. I’m knocking at the door
I’m not the person I once was, nor will I be once more
My home is where my heart is, the doors are swinging wide
I’m a different man with a different mind, because I’ve been changed inside

We didn’t make this destination traveling on our own
So now we’re reaching back to help some others make it home

We are Men Going Home we’re not doing this alone
Tomorrow hold the promise for today
We are Men Going Home after years on our own
Those who went before us paved the way."

At some point in the night Eddie unknowingly slid off into unconsciousness. When the officer popped his door at 4:00 AM Eddie bolted up, heart racing, face clear and his eyes bright. He heard several calls from the guys behind still locked doors, hollers of encouragement, some asking him with laughter to send money, and Eddie walked out of the dorm for the last time. 

After waiting for a short time in the chow-hall he found himself once more in the visiting park waiting for his family to come pick him up. It was 5:45 AM. When the shift changed at 8 o-clock they brought him a set of street clothes. Receiving the package, he stood there for several moments looking into the Macy’s bag. He could see a pair of shoes. He pulled them out and looked at them. “Bruno Marks, Hmm, they look fine.” He carefully pulled out each item; under ware, t-shirt, dress shirt, belt, and a pair of socks. When he pulled on the pants, Dickies size 34" he couldn’t believe how big they were. He told his mom he wore size 34” in the waist – he always had. He didn’t care, they felt incredible. Pulling his belt tight the pants bunched and folded up around his narrow waist. He did his best to spread them out laughing. They could have thrown a burlap sack around his neck and he would have been happy.  

The officer came to the holding cell around 11:00 AM. “Your family is here,” he said without emotion and unlocked the door. Processing an inmate out of prison requires quite a bit of detail and it was almost noon when Eddie Spade finally stepped through the gates, his small bag of belongings in his hand. When he got to the gate he deliberately paused and felt the moment. He had taken that step in his dreams so many times. When he lifted his foot and stepped through, he heard his little niece shout across the parking lot, “Uncle Eddie!” She ran laughing towards him. His mom and his other niece Mariah greeted him with hugs and kisses. As he lifted his foot to climb into the car he looked back at the razor lined fences and tall iron gates. This wave has crashed to a close on the shore and he gave a shout when his mom plugged a CD in and “I’m Feeling Good” started blaring through the speakers.