Portray

Free Da Man

The sharp wind blows at a fast rate and tugs fiercely at Tray's coat. In the middle of February in Michigan, the temperature is below thirty degrees and dropping. Forty feet away from him stands a large steel gate. The only thing now separating him from his freedom. On both sides of the fence armed guards stand positioned in a high tower. Five feet from the gate, he hears one of the guards authorize the gate to open. The motor that operates the fence jumps to life.

The chain then starts retracting. He gazes beyond the large gate to the parking lot where released inmates are to be picked up. Unfortunately for him, there is no ride waiting. He watches as the discharged inmates greet their family with arms spread open. Tray spots a corrections officer, Dwayne, speaking with an inmate and his family. Through his four-year stint, he had developed a relationship with the old timer.

Though this is prohibited in prison between inmates, it never stopped him from befriending the guy. He found him to be quite a genuine man. Who was well respected by his peers-including a number of prisoners.

"Yo, T-Dawg!" Dee calls out to Tray while crossing the street with a clipboard in hand.

"they let you out man? I know they gotta be overpopulated up in there!"

"You funny foo'." Tray replies, dabbing Dee up.

The guard stands beside him. The two stare ahead, gazing at nothing in particular like a few guys enjoying a beer in front of the corner store.

"Today is a new day for you son," Dee spoke in a fatherly-like tone.

Tray looks on as he blew into the palms of his hands. He peeks up at the clouds.

It's cold ass shit, yet the baby blue sky is quite remarkable.

In the prison yard he had opportunities to ponder the sky, but never dared to since his eyes were prone to watching his back anytime outside of his cell.

"Four years of your life spent in this jungle here, but that doesn't matter now. All that matters is what you do while you are free." Dee retracts Tray from his daydream.

Though Tray was barely listening. No disrespect meant to Dee, yet he had heard it all before and was looking forward to embracing his first few moments as a free man. The oxygen he inhaled through his nostrils seems more clean and less toxic than the air behind the walls of the Pen. The cool breeze that travels up his pants legs didn't bother him as much as it normally would have. The indication he's free. Exiled from society for several years. He's a part of the world once again.

So much has changed. So much catching up to do with his life. Worst of all, he had been locked up and was denied seeing his mama before her unfateful passing. Now its been just over two years and he still hasn't wrapped his head around the madness. But somehow as he gazes up at the sky, he senses her presence peering over him.

"So you got some sort of income lined up?" Dee asks.

Tray turns to face the C.O., "Bro, I ain't been out for half an hour and you coming at me about work.". Tray cringes his face. "but yeah, I got something in the works." he adds, rubbing his hands together.

"Oh yeah?"

"My boy works at this factory in Eastpointe. Says he's gonna put in a word for me, he tight with the supervisor or whatever."

Dee solemnly nods his head, "This homie of yours, he ain't got no record or nothing of that sort, right?"

"Nah, ole boy clean as a whistle." Tray answers, without giving much thought into the question.

He leaves out the fact that his boy dabbles in a lil' dirt here and there. Since he knows his boy has no prior run-ins with the law, it was safe to leave out.