2 or 3 things I know about her

Freedom! After thirteen years, freedom! I stood on the corner at Folsom and waited for a bus.

That evening, on the bus from Sacramento to Los Angeles, I looked up at the stars. Each time the bus stopped, I stepped down, took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. The stars were very bright.

I got out in Pasadena and hurried towards the apartment my sis, Charlene, had taken when I finally wrote her I was coming out. She had come from Denver to be closer for the great day.

The neon signs made my eyes blink and my head twist. I had never seen them before and I was afraid I would be hit by an auto as I crossed the main streets like a country boy. The stores and traffic lights and cars were so different I felt I was in new world. I jumped up the steps of the little white house and knocked at the door. A girl opened the screen door and I threw my arms about her. She laughed, but pulled away. “I’m not Charlene,” she said. “I’m her friend, Charlene us working, but she sent me over to cook a meal for you.”

I thanked her, laughed, and reused to food, I wanted to wait for my sis, and Charlene came later. I didn’t know her. She was 13 when I left her. Now she was 26. Still shy, but so happy, she cried, “Wesley, Wesley, Wesley” on my shoulder.

Freedom! For a whole week I just lay around, forgetting the lineup, the balls, the standing on the back of the chow line for colored, the smell of prison. Then Charlene took me to some parties. It was a new world. I didn’t know how to crease my hat, or the current way to fix my tie. I didn’t know what to talk about or how to talk to outside people.

I had no money so I looked for job. Prisoners had no Social Security so I had trouble there. At employment agencies I could give no trade for I had no training. I had no money to join the unions. I couldn’t seem to interest an employer. I swore I’d do anything but shine shoes, wash dishes, or sweep floors. Months went by and I got panicky, because it appeared I didn’t know how to get a job.

I was self