By Alice Buburek

The heavy metal doors locked into place.  A loud clang echoed against the dingy prison walls.  Immediately, the lights grew dim.  This prison held no more than two hundred inmates at one time—every bed in use.  He plopped down upon the thin, worn-out mattress, ignoring the impulse to scream.  Sometimes confinement within the grey five-by-eight cell could drive a person insane.  Under the flattened pillow lay hope: a worn calendar full of slash marks, one for each day served.  Five more and then freedom.  His hands shook as he held the validation of his release. He closed his weary eyes.  A quick prayer emanated from his dry, cracked lips.  He knew he had done wrong.  Punishment was the consequence.  Forgiveness had to be earned.

Gary Foley shoved the tattered sheets back into the safe spot.  What would he do when his time came to be released?  How would he survive?  Returning to his hometown would be difficult.  He asked himself a thousand times, and always gave the same answer.  Before his untimely involvement in a bank robbery gone awry, he had a decent job as a hair stylist.  

In fact, good behavior and skilled hands earned him the privilege of working in the prison barbershop.  He had no right to complain.  His stay at Bottom Rock—a minimum security prison—could have been much worse. 

“Counting the days?” sounded a timid voice.   “Anxious about starting over in the place where your downfall began?  It won’t be easy, Gary…especially in a place like Reeds Point where your neighbors…well, they sometimes don’t forget.”

Gary glanced up from his bed.  The man barely stood five feet four in flat shoes.  A long white coat hung to his knees.  His arms crossed.   A bright smile gleamed in the dim light.  The prison house physician remained unmoved by Gary’s rough exterior—six-foot build, shadowed square jaw, thick neck, wide shoulders, and muscular arms filled with tattoos. Knowing full well of Gary’s façade.

“Dr. J, what brings you to my neighborhood?” The physician chuckled.

“Why, Gary, you know as well as I, any prisoner eligible for parole must have a full examination before leaving.  We don’t want any bad publicity, now do we?”  

“Dr. J, I only have positive things to say.  After years of contemplating my wrongdoings, I know it was sheer stupidity that put me behind bars.”  Dr. J nodded. 

“You’ve come to terms with yourself; it’s a good sign, Gary.”  Just then, a tall guard approached the cell.

“Stand up, Foley.  Step back and turn around.  You know the drill.”  Gary hauled himself up and did as he was told.  The handcuffs tightened on his scarred wrists.  Minutes later, Gary was sitting on a metal chair inside the prison infirmary.  Dr. J checked his vitals. 

“Seems you’re fine.” The doctor stepped back.   There was a long, awkward silence.  “Gary, the outside world, including Reeds Point, has changed quite a bit since your incarceration.  Word of advice:  You need to soften a bit.” 

“What do you mean, doc?” His forehead scrunched.

“I mean, the rough and tough get nowhere.  Look to your feminine side.” Dr. J gave a half smile. Gary’s face flushed.  He knew all too well about femininity.  The fact that he was gay had been deeply submerged for his entire life, especially while a prisoner of Bottom Rock.  

“Take, for instance, that tattoo you have on your arm.  Long, sharp thorns surround one of the most beautiful flowers in the world, the rose.  A lot like you, Gary.” 

Gary’s jaw clenched.  “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Dr. J. Maybe you should stick to medicine.  Are we done?”  He abruptly stood up. Seconds later, the guard rushed in.

“We’re finished. Please take Mr. Foley back to his cell.”  Gary turned around and placed his hands behind his back.  The cuffs fit snugly.

“Good luck, Gary, and remember my advice.” 

Gary did not bother to turn around.  His movements were slow and mechanical.   Once alone inside his world of solitude, his eyes welled up.  How could Dr. J have known about his true sexuality?  Or did he?  Gary quickly dismissed the doctor’s wild suspicions.  He hid his secret before and would do it again.        

*

The next five days were routine inside the prison. The day of release, Gary gathered his few personal items and placed them in the small plastic bag.  His jeans and white t-shirt felt tight.  His body mass swelled during his prison term.  Two guards escorted him outside the prison gates.  An old college friend waited in a new silver Chevy Impala.  Gary looked one last time at the Bottom Rock Prison.

“Come on, buddy!” called the man from inside the car.  “Family and friends are waiting at our old hangout in town.”  Gary took a deep breath.  His heart raced with a strange new fear: fear of the unknown.  Fear of going home.  He slowly slipped into the cushioned leather seat.  Relaxing music seeped from hidden speakers.               

“Will, I appreciate…”  The man cut him off.

“You’d do the same for me.” Within minutes, they were driving down a two-lane highway heading for Reeds Point. 

Gary rolled down the window. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath—freedom.

“You can stay at my place until you get your feet back on the ground. Have you thought about what you might like to do…you know…work-related?”  Will tapped the steering wheel.  He looked young, with his short brown hair, blue polo shirt, and khaki shorts, unlike Gary, whose face bore deep ridges that deepened with each passing year behind bars.

Gary hesitated.  “I’d like to get back into doing hair…in a professional salon.” Gary shifted in the seat.  “There was a salon in the center of town.”  

“It’s still there and always busy. If I remember correctly, you were pretty good with a pair of scissors.”  Suddenly, Will’s lips twisted.  “Look, we’ve been friends a long time.  So, I’ll just come right out and say it.  You’re going to have to tone it down a notch…lose the thug look.  Lindsay Atkins owns the place, and she doesn’t put up with…with…” Will’s voice trailed into silence.

Gary exhaled.  He could do this.  He had to have faith in himself. Suddenly, the doctor’s words echoed inside his mind.  Dr. J was right. Without a doubt, he was just like a rose.  

*   *   *

Alice Baburek is an avid reader, determined writer and animal lover. She lives with her wife and four canine companions. Retired, she challenges herself to become an unforgettable emerging voice.