Push To Happiness

Chapter 1

Neild! Let's go.

Marc looked up from his bunk, then glanced at his cellmate, certain the man would at least try to give him a "going away" present. When he didn't make a move, Marc edged to the door.

Let's go! I don't have all day.

A gutteral chuckle came from the other side of the cell. "What's the matter, sweetie? You wanna stay with me? I'll bet you're gonna miss me."

Marc glared then started for the door.

"Hey, why don't you slip on over here and give me a kiss. You and I both know you'll think of me every time you see those sweet tatts I gave you."

Keep walkin, Marc. It's another week in lock up if you start anything.

Relief started to wash over him as he heard the cell door clank behind him.

"Get walking, convict. Through those doors. Keep your hands open and to your sides.

Jeers and cat calls followed him through the cell block. Through another door and into a sterile, white room. He looked behind him, almost panicked.

The guard held a package. "You need to change. Here's your clothes. Next stop is your personal effects."

"Yes, sir." Marc stepped forward to retrieve the bundle.

"No funny business, Neild."

"No, sir." He quickly stepped back, unbuttoning his shirt and replacing it with the almost too-tight t-shirt he'd been given. He glanced at his left arm and shuddered. The black tattoo's scrawling design was clearly visible.

The jeans were probably the same ones he'd been arrested in almost six years ago. Marc grimaced as he did up the buttons.

The guard laughed. "We should walk back through the cell block. With those tight jeans, you'd make a lot of new friends."

Marc ignored the jibe. I'm almost out. Keep your cool, man.

The guard tossed a pair of slip on shoes at his feet.

"Sir, where are my boots?"

The guard raised his eyebrows. "There weren't any shoes in with your stuff. Granted, you're only allowed so much space in storage so, maybe they sent them to GoodWill. You're lucky to get what you got."

Marc nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Marc followed the man into the next room. He filled out the forms and stood against the barren wall, waiting. Another prisoner, named Sprocket, had been one he had worked out with stood nearby.

A guard behind the protective glass propped his booted feet on the counter. Marc's eyes widened as he saw his boots on the man's feet. The leather had been stamped and hand painted with his initials, MKN.

"Those are my boots," Marc said, as he started to step forward

Sprocket looked over and hissed. "Let it go, pal. It's not worth going back in for a pair of stupid looking cowboy boots."

Marc swallowed and nodded.

"Neild. Step forward."

"Yes, sir."

A small packet was slipped beneath the glass. "Your effects. Listed items include one black mens wallet, driver's license, twenty dollars in cash, one men's watch, baseball cap. Does this look right?"

"Sure. I don't need the boots anyway."

"What boots?"

Marc shook his head. "It's not important."

"Very well. Please proceed through the door to your right for further instructions."

A guard awaited him on the other side of the door. He held out an envelope for Marc. Marc eyed the envelope before he took it, turning it over in his hands. He didn't recognize the handwriting.

He slid a card from the envelope. Marc, We are glad you have finally been released. I am enclosing cash and a print out for the nearest greyhound station. There should be enough for your ticket home and a few incidentals. Your father isn't convinced this is the right place for you to be, but I can't wait to see you again. Love, Mom

"Sir, where's the money? Mom said she enclosed money."

The guard smiled. "Yeah. We had to open the letter and remove it." He produced another envelope with several signatures on it.

Marc looked at it, his eyebrows raised.

"Its a security thing. We have several people count and sign to make sure it's all there. You're welcome to count it as well."

Marc nodded. A door opened behind him. Out of habit, he sidestepped so he could see both doors at the same time. Sprocket stepped through the door.

"Do you have any other questions for me?" the guard asked.

"Yeah. Is anyone waiting for me?"

"No. It's about twenty miles to the nearest greyhound station. No public transportation. Would you like to call a cab?"

"Nield is riding with me," Sprocket stated.

The guard looked back and forth between the two men. Marc nodded. "Sounds good. Stay out of trouble. We don't want you back here."

Marc nodded and followed Sprocket out the door into the waning sunlight. Marc stopped and breathed in the muggy air.

"Freedom feels good, don't it pal," Sprocket said with a laugh.

Marc smiled. "Yeah. It feels dang good."

"Come on. Our ride is waiting and I have a surprise for you. Everyone needs a getting out party. I have one every time I get out."

"There'll only be one for me. I'm never going back there."

Sprocket clapped him on the back. "That's what everyone says."