Felons on Friday...

So after I realized that that my bus decided to not show and simply drive right by, sans me, to St.Louis; and after I realized that purchasing a ticket riding the rails down there ($27) and a ticket returning ($27) together would be $73.50; after I talked to my mom and cleared everything up, I finally walked back outside into the cold to have that cigarette, that delicious cigarette. A train had just departed- coming from the Lou... of course-and there was still a sizable amount of people piecing their life back together as they disembarked for what was sure to a welcome weekend spent in the cold of Central Illinois or destinations elsewhere just as miserable; there was no where pleasant itinerary that included a pit stop in Normal. No one really looked forward to walking outside in this weather for very long. The cold was so bad it'd make your hands go numb in minutes, with wind to cut through any number of cheap department store knockoff fleeces almost immediately.

"Hey man, mind if I borrow your phone."

I heard this and pulled out an earplug of my iPod and turned to address the speaker. It was a middle-aged man, a little bit stockier and shorter than me and was dressed in a plain blue coat and sweatpants. He had a nylon string bag full of other shirts and a bible. But he was smoking, and therefore, was logically incapable of being uncool. Only cool people smoke cigarettes.

He looked unassuming enough. "Sure man, not a problem." I handed him the phone and he held it for a minute and looked at it.

"Wow, sure are making these things small anymore."

I didn't really the need to respond to that and after helping him work the keys, (in his defense, my large fingers are also difficult to work with too. Drunken texting by me? Not a chance.) he made his first call. "Hey Steve!, Its me, Joe!" Yeah man, I just got out! They let me take the train back because of some snowstorm down south or somethin..........Hey man, is anyone coming to get me?.........Well where's Karen?..........What'd you mean no one's seen her?...........Well I am stuck in Normal man, you gotta send someone to get me......................What?......Give me your brother's number, yeah Tim!........Alright."

He turns to me and motions me to take a number down. Damnitt, my weakness. So I take the number down and he hangs up the phone. "Where ya heading man?"

He took a drag from his cigarette and turns to me. "I just got off the train from St.Louis. Trying to find a ride to Galesburg"

"Nice, nice, what were you doin down there?"

"I just got out of prison. "

Oh.
So...its like that. I knew immediately I was not going to ask what he was in for. Not my business. If he brings it up, than so be it, but not by my hand.

"Well congratulations man. Feel good?"

"My man, you have no idea. Everything is just a little bit prettier." And than he starts launching into this tirade of how he wasn't going to drink or "fuck around wit them drugs or nuthin," I sorta zoned out and nodded my head. It was hard to pay attention to him anyways as I had just ripped four hitters to the dome about twenty minutes ago...Plus I mean save it for the parole board. I would love for you to get you life on track, but really, really? I don't care.

"Plus I think my wife is cheatin on me. She is still on that junk shit. Shit'll kill ya quick. She is supposed to come pick me up, but no one has seen her for a few weeks"

Its now about 8 'clock and I still have over an hour to kill before my train comes. We go and sit inside the busy lobby and wait for a while. He's all fidgety and can't sit down to save his soul.

He turns and looks at me, "So they busted me witha case full of machine guns man!" Big old grin on his little face, "got me with a ten spot man."

"You just got out of prison for ten years?"

"Yup."

"Damn, am I one of the first actual conversations you have had on the outside?"

"Yeah man, and that was the first cigarette I have had in loong time."

I guess one of his friends squealed on him. He hinted at knocking on a few doors when he eventually made it back home. The rest of conversation was pretty worthless after that, we just talked about being in prison, he showed me a few tricks that maybe coming in handy one day, god-forbid.

He never did find a ride, at least while I was there. He asked me to point him the direction of the highway, figured he at least walk. "Man, I don't know if you should walk, its dangerously cold out there".... "Nah, I am a survivor, I'll make it." Yeah.

His name was Joe and was from what I saw a generally nice guy, even if he did bum a few of my smokes. But if you ever find yourself in the area of Galesburg and in need of a sizable cache of weapons, he is your guy. Or maybe, not anymore.