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“Don’t you have all those records?”
“I do, but it’s important for me to get your version of the events.”
“I was caught with an ounce of meth in my car. It was planted.”
“I see.”
“Can I talk to my attorney?”
“There’s no need. You’re not being charged with anything.”
“It sure feels like it.”
“These are just questions, Mr. Hansen. I’m here to help you, as I’ve said.” I shuffle through the papers. “Let’s just move on.”
“You’re not the person who I met before my release,” he says.
“Did you meet with Michael Barrett?”
“Yeah, his name was Michael. It was probably him.”
“Unfortunately, Mr. Barrett was in an automobile accident yesterday, so I’m taking over his caseload for now.”
“Lucky me.” He waggles his eyebrows.
Great. One of those.
“Let’s take a look at the conditions of your parole.” I glance at his paper. “Of course you know you’re supposed to stay away from drugs of any kind, and that includes alcohol. You’ll be expected to get a job and undergo counseling. I also suggest getting your GED.”
“Is that a requirement?”
“It’s my requirement,” I say.
“Nobody said anything about that to me before, man.”
“First of all, Mr. Hanson, I’m not a man, as you can well see. Second, no, it’s not a condition of your parole. But I highly advise you to look into it. You’ll be able to get a better job that way.”
“No one will hire an ex-con.”
“We have facilities to help you with that. I’m here to help you, Mr. Hanson.”
“Yeah, okay.”
I glance at my computer screen. “You were granted parole because of your good behavior, so I commend you for that. What are your goals for the rest of your life? What do you want to get out of your parole?”
“I don’t know.”
“You need to think about that. This is your second chance, Mr. Hansen, and you may not get a third one, so make this one count. What skills do you have?”
“Not a lot.”
“All right then, manual labor might be your best bet. There are always jobs in the construction industry. You’re young and strong. You’ll do well.”
Rudy’s eyes light up. “Yeah, construction. That sounds good. It’s better than slinging hash at some fast-food joint.”
“I’m going to give you a questionnaire to fill out. It will help me evaluate what your skill sets are, and I can better assist you in finding employment.” I hand him a clipboard.
He stares at it. “I don’t need to fill this out. I told you what my skills are.” He sets it down.
“This will help. Please just fill out the form. It will only take about ten minutes or so.”
“No.”
“One of the conditions of your parole, Mr. Hanson, is that you cooperate with your parole officer. That’s me. Fill out the form.”
He says nothing.
“Why don’t you—”
Then it occurs to me.
“Mr. Hanson?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you prefer that I read the questions to you?”
He says nothing, but then he nods.
He can’t read. Back in Austin, some of my colleagues came across illiterate individuals. I never did…until now.
“That’s no problem at all, Mr. Hanson.”
I read the questionnaire, writing down his responses.
No wonder he didn’t want to get his GED.
“All right, Mr. Hanson. This gives me a good idea of what you can do. I’m also going to give you the number of a counselor, and I want you to call him.”
Rudy crosses his arms. “I don’t need no counseling.”
“That’s not really for you or me to determine. It’s a condition of your parole, so if you want to stay out of prison, you will need to undergo counseling.”
He takes the card from me. “Fine.”
“In fact,” I say, “I’ll make your first appointment for you. I’ll need your current cell phone number.”
He rattles off some numbers that I write down.
“And your current address?”
He rattles that off as well.
Normally I’d give him a piece of paper with all of this written on it, and ask him if it was correct, but I don’t want to embarrass him further.
“All right, Mr. Hanson. Very good. I will text you—I’m sorry, I’ll call you—with the time of your first appointment. And I’ll be checking in with your counselor to make sure you went.”
“Wait a minute. Isn’t there some kind of confidentiality thing?”
“Absolutely. All I will do is check in with him to make sure you attended your session. I won’t ask him what you talked about.”
He nods.
“All right, Mr. Hanson.” I rise and stick out my hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
He takes my hand, gives me a good firm handshake.
“I’ll see you the same time next week.”
“Does it have to be every week?”
“Until I decide it can be less often.”
“All right.”
“I’ll see you out.”
“No need. I can find the way.”
“All right. Have a good day, Mr. Hanson.”
I check my watch. A few minutes until my next appointment, so I go through the documents in the manila folder, sign the requisite forms, and take a walk to the front.
