I was home a total of two full days when I decided that I couldn’t take the boredom any more. My old boss had offered to let me resume my job as a dishwasher at a restaurant in downtown Tulsa, and I immediately called and asked if I could pick up some shifts.
He seemed thrilled by the idea. It was a shitty job, but it would do. And it would be better than sitting around at home bored to death. Taking the bus there and back was a pain in the ass. It was a twenty minute drive, but it took over an hour each way by bus.
It wasn’t in the greatest of areas, and it was a little difficult to stay away from the people, the bars, and the drugs that had gotten me into trouble the first time. But I was managing okay.
I was counting down the days until I could see Olivia. I was trying to get everything I needed to out of the way.
I left work just before the dinner rush, after having making arrangements with my boss. I walked several blocks to my parole officer’s office and sat in the waiting room uncomfortably. There were at least a dozen gruff looking guys in there. They all had tattoos and wore ruddy clothes. I felt like I didn’t belong there, either.
The receptionist called me into the hallway where the different offices were. She handed me a little plastic cup with an orange lid on it and informed me that as part of my probation I was required to give a random urine test.
I knew this. I’d done it before. I was used to the occasional piss-test from my parole officer. In fact, I’d expected it. I drank a few extra glasses of water in anticipation of some kind of drug test.
I went into the washroom while she stood outside the door and gave my sample.
I returned and placed the cup on her clipboard.
“Thank you, just in here.” She motioned to the open office door.
I nodded and walked inside, plopping down onto the stiff metal chair. I leaned back and exhaled the breath I’d been holding in.
I folded my arms over my stomach. My palms were already starting to sweat. I was feeling nervous already.
I knew I was in for an even longer lecture than the one I’d gotten from my dad. I was barely even in the door five minutes before my dad sat me down at the kitchen table and lectured me on how I needed to obey the rules of the house or I’d get shipped back to school. No exceptions.
I sighed and turned my head to look out the window.
The door burst open and my parole officer came in, holding my file. “Hello, Mr. Hanson. How are you?” He asked.
I shrugged. “I’m here.”
The parole officer was a tall balding man who wore polo shirts and blue jeans. He was round in the middle; he looked like he’d been spending too much time eating donuts with the local cops.
“Well, me too.” He chuckled, plopping down behind his desk. “So your parents have passed on all of your current marks and your teachers letters of recommendation, and I must say, you are doing quite well at this new school. There are no complaints about you, your teachers are all raving about you. That is excellent.”
I nodded.
“And are you keeping your nose clean in everything else in your life?”
“Are you asking about the drug and alcohol stuff?” I asked, frowning.
“Precisely.” He nodded.
“I haven’t had a drink since rehab. I haven’t had any drugs, not even so much as a Tylenol since rehab. I even quit smoking.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really? That’s excellent, Isaac. I had your urine tested, and I can see that you’re clean.”
I shrugged. “I am doing everything I’m supposed to. I’m not doing drugs, I’m not smoking, and I’m not drinking. I’m not fighting or gambling or participating any other illegal activity. I’m going to all of my classes; I’m improving all of my grades. I’m working toward my high school diploma, as my probation strictly outlines. I’m not driving because even if I wanted to, my license has been suspended and my car is totaled. My parents don’t trust me as far as they can throw me and-“
“And what about your old friends? Have you been seeing them?”
“No. I’ve been avoiding all temptation.” I replied.
“That’s good. I don’t think I’ve ever had a parolee respond so well to probation. I think this might be exactly what you need to change your life around. Believe it or not, you were lost, Mr. Hanson. But you’re changing yourself for the better, which is a good thing for you.”
I nodded, barely listening. This was another lecture that I wasn’t entirely interested in hearing.
“Your parents are sure that you’re doing very well. Have you given any thought to what you want to do in the future?”
I shook my head. “No idea.”
“Well, I can tell you that with these marks.” He rummaged through my file. “You would be a perfect candidate for university or college. And most would be happy to take you on despite of your recent legal troubles.” He paused, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his large stomach. “I can tell you, however that I can help you with this mess. What we can do here is that on my recommendation I can go before a judge and testify, as well as your parents and family members should they choose to do that… we can also have any of your teachers write letters of recommendations in lieu of testifying. Because you are under eighteen, you are completing the terms of your probation with flying colors, we can work to having your record expunged.”
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Well, what that means is that your charges won’t be dropped. But they will not show up in the future. As it stands now, your records as it stands are already sealed. This means that if a university or college or even an employer were to look into your criminal history, they would be able to see that there is something there; a mark or a blemish in your record. But they would not be able to tell what it was. If your record were to be expunged, and someone were to look into your criminal past, they would see nothing. This would help you get jobs and further your education, whatever you choose to do.”
I nodded. “That would be great. Let’s do that.” I said quickly.
“Okay. I am more than willing to help you out here. The only thing is that you have only been on probation for ten months. You still have another two left to go before I can say that you have completed your probation.”
“Okay…” I said slowly.
“Provided you keep up the excellent work. I’ll keep checking your marks in school, and what I’ll do is get in contact with your principal… Mr.…” He leaned forward to check his notes.
“Firestone.” I finished.
“Yes. I’ll have him set up a couple of random drug tests for you at the local clinic… just as a formality… and in two months, we’ll have you come back and we’ll meet with your lawyers and go from there. There’s still several months before your eighteenth birthday, so there is plenty of time to have everything taken care of.”
I nodded. “And what about my license?” I asked.
“Well… that would depend on the judge. However, in most cases like this one… the judge still enforces the termination of the license. That means you will still have to wait two years from the date you were charged and start all over again.”
I was not looking forward to redoing driving school.
“Anything else you would like to discuss with me?”
I shook my head. “No thanks.”
“Okay then. I’d like to see you one more time before you go back to school, so if you’d like you could make an appointment with my receptionist now or wait and call at a later date.”
“Okay, thanks.” I said, standing.
My parole officer stood as well and shook my hand.
I all too excitedly left the room.
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