by Ben Spavins
worthless piece of crap, I see you or any of your buddies near Marvin again, you’ll have me to deal with. Now stand up, dust yourself off and piss off’ Jacobs said.
O, sweating and panting, rolled onto is hands and knees and spat, he sighed before rising to his feet and stumbled to the door, his greasy hair swept over his face. Jacob’s nodded at Marvin and followed O out of the cell without saying a word, Marvin looked at the door, bewildered by what had just happened, could he trust a Screw like Jacobs?
Two Years Later
The prison gate swung open and hit the wall with a bang, the last sound he'd hear as a prisoner, the first sound as a free man, he let out one long last breath before taking the final step into the world, he was a free man.
He was met at the gates by his lawyer, as the prison door closed behind him for the final time, Marvin turned and looked at the re-enforced wooden door for a moment. He looked up and surveyed the high walls of the prison and took in a deep breath of the cold damp air and slowly breathed out, enjoying his first moments of freedom. He walked with his lawyer over to the car and they both stepped in, the journey being spent in silence.
Although he’d let Denise clear him out financially at the separation, he’d managed to keep some of his stuff, and some of his money, not much, but enough to start again, to seek his vengeance and to be re-united with his son.
They arrived at the lawyer’s office and went through the large red door, Marvin stepped in after the lawyer into a world he used to know. The beige walls of the office, in stark contrast to the whites, yellows and greys of prison, the lights, not protected by metal wiring. The windows, without the metal grates, receptionists, perfume, the smell took his breath away. The last woman he’d touched had been Denise, the only women he’d seen since he’d been sent down was the occasional prison worker, and none of those were remotely attractive. He smiled at the female receptionist, who gave a sharp smile back before returning to her typing.
His lawyer led him into the office and offered a small leather seat, Marvin sat down and relaxed, he’d been so use to sitting on hard surfaces, cushioned leather was something else. ‘Right Marvin, let me just get your details up’ the lawyer said as he typed a few keys on his keyboard.
‘Right as you know, you didn’t have a lot left over from your divorce, the total sum of which equates to £2,675.75. It’s all in the same account which was created after the divorce, these are the cards and the PIN code’ the lawyer said as he handed over a few envelopes to Marvin.
Marvin read the address on the envelope, his old address, he sighed as he opened his jacket, the same jacket he had on when he was arrested, the last jacket he’d seen Denise in, and slid them into the inside breast pocket along with his last unopened letter to Denise.
‘As you know, you’ll be placed into the probation housing scheme as you no longer have a permanent abode, here is the address’ the lawyer said, sliding yet another sheet of paper over to Marvin. He looked at the address, it was in a rough part of town, not far from where he’d grown up, not far from the people who still hated him for wanting to escape a life of hopelessness, and here he was again, how much they must be smiling at his downfall.
The lawyer slid some forms over to Marvin, who quickly signed them and slid them back. The lawyer smiled, ‘I think we’re done Marvin, anything else we can help you with?’
Yeah, who’s got my son’? Marvin asked.
‘I can’t tell you I’m afraid, Denise gained full custody and Reece was legally adopted by Denise’s new partner, you don’t have any rights to Reece any more, I’m sorry’.
‘He’s my son, my flesh and blood, I love him, I’ll always have a right to him’.
‘I’m sorry Marvin, I can’t help you’ the lawyer said.
Marvin nodded and sighed, he rose from his seat and headed for the door.
...
Marvin stood outside the run-down multi-storey building, the gentle rain starting to soak through his jacket, he looked down at the piece of paper the lawyer had given him and sighed, this was definitely the address. He looked up again, the dark grey building not forming much of a contrast with the darkening sky, he shuffled his bag on his back and walked towards the door.
He walked up to the large UPVC door, and knocked, the small speaker next to the door crackled into life, ‘hullo?’ the voice said.
‘Hi, my names Marvin, I’ve just been released on parole and was told I‘d be staying here?’ Marvin said into the microphone.
‘Yes, just a moment’ the voice replied as the door clicked. Marvin turned the handle and stepped in.
Inside, he was greeted by gaudy wallpaper and a tattooed man standing behind a wood panelled desk.
‘Right, let’s just pull up your details’ the man said as he leant over the computer, revealing further tattoos.
‘Yeah here we go, right you’ve got a room on the third floor, your parole officer, Susan Dawes, will be here tomorrow about midday so make sure your about for her. Doors are locked at 10pm, opened at 6am, the desk is manned between those times. Smoking is only allowed in your room or outside, no alcohol is allowed on the premises’, the man said. ‘Oh, and I’m Milo, any questions?’
Marvin shook his head, the stale smell of the building infecting his nostrils, ‘right, follow me’ Milo said as he stepped from behind his desk and headed towards the stairs.
Marvin climbed the stairs behind Milo, his heavy feet making the floor creak, they reached the 3rd floor and stepped out into the hallway, Milo strode a few steps before stopping outside a heavily chipped white door. He inserted a key and walked in, Marvin not far behind.
‘So here, we go, this is your room, shared bathroom out in the hall, anything else’? Milo asked as he handed Marvin the key to the room. Marvin shook his head and Milo left the room, closing the door behind him.
Marvin tossed the key on the bed and looked around the room, brown and red stains marked the cream walls, the navy carpet worn down to the cords in places Marvin smiled wryly, this was worse than prison. He sat down on the bed and emptied his pockets, a Breitling watch he’d had on the day he was arrested, it had been his favourite, the first he’d bought when he’d qualified as a lawyer. A couple of bits of paper, he trawled through them for information, most of them referred to cases he’d been working on at the time, a few bits of change, a receipt from when he’d bought a muffin from Greggs, the last bit of fast food he’d had. He checked his other pockets, his wallet with a small amount of cash in it, the new bank cards his lawyer had given him, the unopened letter to Denise and a picture of his once happy family, all smiling in the photo, now either strangers, or dead.
He sighed, took off his clothes, pulled the duvet back and lied down, his body relaxing as he felt clean sheets settle on his body, for the first time, he felt lonely, he didn’t have anyone sleeping in the same room as him, no Otis, no Denise, no one. He felt his eyes start to settle, the usual sounds of human strain and pain being replaced with the sounds of traffic and free life, he was out, he was finally out.
...
Marvin awoke with a start, the floorboards in the corridor outside his room were creaking under the weight of human feet, he turned autonomously to get up, forgetting he was out of prison and opened his eyes, seeing the stained walls reminding him he was free again. Instead, he reached for his Breitling, it was 8.15am, he'd slept peacefully for over a half a day, he smiled as he realised had he been in prison, he’d already be awake, his first lie-in in four years.
He let himself snooze for a little, it felt like a Sunday. He’d been so used to the same monotonous routine in prison, he’d not kept track of what day it was, Marvin only knew it was a Wednesday today because of the Breitling. He stretched as he thought about getting up, instead he chose to lie there for a few more minutes, he thought about the day ahead, he had his meeting at 12pm with his new parole officer, but other than that his day was free, something he was still getting used to. In prison he'd have different activities to do, classes to take, free
time, lunch time, dinner time, now he could make his own choices, he was almost scared, he'd almost become institutionalised.
...
Marvin waited nervously in the seating area of the hostel, Milo was sat at the reception desk, heavily engrossed in the computer. Marvin’s palms were sweaty, he felt like he did four years ago, as if he was waiting for an important client. In a way, he was, his parole officer was the key to his complete freedom. He’d served his whole term so wasn’t on probation, she was visiting him to ‘assist with his re-integration into society’.
The door suddenly buzzed, Milo nodded at Marvin as the door clicked and opened, Marvin stood to meet his probation officer, something he never thought he’d do. He smiled as a woman in her mid-forties strolled in, she had auburn hair pinned back in a bob, hazel eyes and was wearing a Navy jacket with jeans, he looked her up and down for a moment, still getting used to seeing women.
She nodded at Milo and strolled over to Marvin before holding her hand out, 'Hi, I’m Susan, I’ll be your probation officer for the next few months, you must be Marvin?’
Marvin stood and smiled, he hadn’t spoken to a woman in over two years, 'hi....hi, nice to meet you' Marvin stuttered, he shook her hand, aware that his palm had become very sweaty. He offered her a seat next to him and they both sat