The Path To Love. Jane Myers Perrine
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he didn’t. I was assigned to Mr. Gentry when I got out of prison six months ago. I think he was winding down for retirement.”
“That may be true. Nevertheless, I still need some very basic information about you. There’s almost nothing written here other than the dates of your appointments and your address.”
As he read further, he tapped his pen, silver with what looked like his initials engraved on the side. “I find no mention of what you discussed during your appointments. He didn’t keep up with your employment or much of anything else, no information from your trial or prison records.” He looked up at Francie. “That’s not at all professional.”
Professional must be very important to him, Francie thought as she put her book on the floor and leaned forward. “I think he was really burned out.”
“It’s kind of you to say that, but I can’t be as forgiving.”
Wow! He thought she was both kind and forgiving. That was at least one fruit of the spirit. “Thank you.”
“Miss Calhoun, you shouldn’t be forgiving, either, not in this case. A parole officer is supposed to assist you to return to the community as an honest, upright citizen. Gentry let you down.”
She nodded. He was right.
“Let me check on the information I have.” He read a few lines. “Your father, aunt and uncle are all—”
“Incarcerated.”
“Your mother?”
“I don’t know where she is. She walked out on us when my father was arrested. I was six.”
“Who brought you up?”
“Oh, different people, off and on. Usually, when they weren’t incarcerated, my uncle Lou and aunt Tessie, my father’s brother and sister. Larceny runs in my family, I fear.”
“You believe it is a genetic characteristic?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I’m afraid so, but I’m working hard and hoping to overcome that unfortunate trait.”
“Commendable, Miss Calhoun.”
He glanced at his watch, a lovely thin silver-colored one. Expensive, she thought. Of course she knew nothing about watches. Maybe it wasn’t as costly as it looked.
“Oh, it’s probably getting close to time for your next appointment. I’m sorry I was late.” She put a hand against her cheek. It felt warm. “I had a test that lasted much longer than I thought it would. The bus was late so I had to run all the way from the bus stop. I thought I’d be here sooner but I kept dropping stuff and the lights held me up.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I do hate to keep people waiting.”
“A test?” he asked. “Are you not feeling well? I don’t believe I’ve read anything here about health problems.” He leafed through the pages to check.
“No, not a medical test. English lit. Jane Austen. You know, she writes wonderful characters and she’s really funny, not what I’d expected from the classics.” She scooted forward on the chair and whispered, “Have you ever read Pride and Prejudice?”
“Yes I have…but why did you take a test on Pride and Prejudice? Why are you even reading it? I remember being forced to read parts of it in high school. I also remember it was slow and not very interesting.”
“Oh, no, it’s wonderful.” She sat back and pondered for a moment. “Even though they lived in a totally different time, those people are incredibly interesting. They’re not all that much different from us.”
“You’re reading Jane Austen for pleasure?”
“No, no, for English lit, but if I’d known it was so much fun, I’d have read it years ago.”
“Miss Calhoun,” he shook his head. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Would you please explain why you are reading Pride and Prejudice.”
“Isn’t it in my file?” She moved forward and tried to read the record upside down. “Didn’t Mr. Gentry mention that I’m working on an associate’s degree, picking up the required courses?”
He frowned at her information sheet. “How can you do that? Gentry’s notes say you don’t have a high-school diploma.”
“What do you mean?” She tried to read her file again, again unsuccessfully. “It’s not in there, is it? I got my GED while I was incarcerated.”
He looked up at her, his eyebrow lifted. “You did? Congratulations. I’ll get that information from TDC and put it in your record.” He wrote on a sticky note and attached it to her folder. “Did you bring me your pay stubs?”
She put her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no! I had them all ready to go, then I got worried because I had forgotten if Elizabeth Bennett had—well, you probably don’t care about what I had to check, but I thought it might be on the test. Anyway, I left them on the table when I ran out. Can I…may I bring them next time?”
“Of course.” He studied her for a moment before he asked. “How is the great metamorphosis going? I mean, have you moved along with your change?”
“Yes, my metamorphosis is moving along just fine.” She studied him for a moment before she nodded and said, “I do know what the word means.”
“Of course you do. I had no doubt—”
“You know, criminal doesn’t mean stupid, except on certain topics, like hard work and honesty and common sense. Truly, I’m working hard not to fall into that trap again. Self-control is high on the list of fruit of the spirit, one I’m concentrating very hard on.”
“Of course, Miss Calhoun. Please forgive my rudeness. I have to say that I’m very pleased you have found out what the fruit of the spirit is.”
“Thank you.” She felt surprisingly delighted at the compliment. “Okay. About the metamorphosis, I’m still looking for a church.” She held her hand up before he could ask. “The Sunday after I saw you, I went to the first one I visited, the one where I decided I wanted to change. The people there didn’t seem happy to see me. Guess they don’t mind if I come to the revival service but not Sunday morning.” She shrugged. “That evening, I visited another church, but it was a little, well, a little too loud for me. Last Sunday, I tried another but that was…ummm…slightly boring and the people seemed a little cold. So I’m still looking for one that will be right.”
“If you’re sincere, I’m sure you’ll find a place.” He picked up his pen again. “Why don’t you tell me about your plans for the future? Why did you decide to go to college?” He wrote the date and looked up expectantly.
She didn’t speak for almost a minute. She bit her lower lip before saying, “I don’t know what I’m going to do with that education,” she said finally. “I just knew, when I went to prison, that I couldn’t live like that anymore, like I always had, like my family always has. Stealing from people and hiding from the police and being locked up. I knew I had to prepare for a better life.”
He nodded his encouragement.
“My family hasn’t been much for looking ahead. I mean, past the next job or casing the convenience store or bank they wanted to knock over or setting up their next scam. Planning is new for me, too, but I have to change. I know education is the place to start.”
She looked at him for a second, then she gave him a tiny, uncertain smile which grew into a grin.
His expression changed from concentration to—it looked like interest. Oh, she knew she had to be wrong, but maybe a spark of attraction was there, for just a second. Then he blinked, cleared his throat and assumed an unsmiling professional demeanor.
“Education seems like, for my mind, what those fruit of the spirit are for my soul, you know?” she continued. “I’d like to use my education