Page 3 of Into The Light
Riley makes a right onto Compass Street; here, breweries abound, sitting on the Michigami River, interspersed with fancy restaurants. The further east we go, the more the landscape changes, shifting from bustling downtown and its attendant sprawl to quiet, tree-lined neighborhoods, elementary schools, and play parks with slides, jungle gyms, and sandboxes. This, too, shifts after a while, giving way to industrial complexes—warehouses, manufacturing facilities, dentist and doctor offices, accountants, tax professionals, law offices, and the like. And then eastward beyond that is Division Boulevard, runningparallel to Main Street, a wide, busy four-lane road lined with places like Target, Best Buy, Meijer, Applebee’s, Chili's, car dealerships, and strip malls.
Riley pulls into the Target parking lot and shuts off the engine. "C'mon, big guy. Let's get you some clothes that actually fit."
I follow him into the store, where he grabs a red shopping cart and beelines for the men's clothing section.
"What size are you?" he asks, eying me. "Quadruple XL?"
I shrug. "Dunno."
"Guess you'll have to try a few sizes, then." He grabs a few T-shirts and jeans in various sizes and then directs me to the changing rooms. I try things on until I find my sizes, and then Riley makes some selections for me—I let him choose, because I have no clue. Haven't worn anything but orange jumpsuits in ten years.
With a few changes of clothes in the cart, he grabs some personal effects like deodorant, a hairbrush, a five-in-one bottle of shampoo and whatever else, a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, and a pair of work boots.
As we wait to check out, I glance at him. "I don’t have money for all this."
Riley shrugs. "Yeah you do, just not with you. I got you covered. We'll sort it all out later. Don’t worry about it."
After making the purchases, I change into the new clothes in the bathroom, take a long piss, and wash my hands. I examine myself in the mirror for the first time in a while: prison mirrors leave something to be desired, to say the least.
Standing six-four-and-a-half in my socks, I have bright red hair that's currently loose and shaggy around my shoulders, wavy and frizzy and tangled. My beard matches in color and overall appearance, hanging to mid-chest, bushy and wild. My eyes are somewhere between green and gray. I've always been abig guy, but with nothing to do in prison but eat, lift, talk, and sleep, I've packed on a massive amount of muscle over the last decade, and probably weigh at least two-sixty-five, if not more, most of it solid muscle, although I do have a decent layer of padding sheathing my muscles.
All in all, I look…scary. I was into tattoos before I went inside, so my arms and torso are covered in ink. A lot of it was gang-related imagery, which I either altered or covered on the inside with prison ink.
I throw away the old clothes and exit the bathroom, feeling a little more human now that my clothes fit. Riley is waiting by the exit, chatting with a beautiful woman in her thirties.
"Bear, come say hi to my friend." Riley waves me over. "Jess, this is Bear, he works for me. Bear, this is Jess. She runs the office for Felix and me.”
As I approach, Jess's eyes widen and she backs up a step, involuntarily. She's tall and willowy, with long brown hair shot through with blonde highlights and soft brown eyes.
"Ummm…hi?" Her greeting comes out like a question.
"Nice to meet you, Jess," I murmur, keeping my distance and my hands in my hip pockets; I glance at Riley. "Meet you at the truck."
I amble away, self-conscious after her reaction.
I've always had sharp hearing, so I can't help overhearing her as I walk away.
"Jesus, Rye, where'd you find a monster like that?"
"He's in my program," Riley answers. "He's a good dude."
"If you say so," Jess mutters, sounding doubtful. "He's the biggest person I've ever seen."
"Should see what he can do with a ten-pound sledge."
"Looks like he could demo a house with his bare hands," Jess says.
Riley laughs. “Yeah, he probably could.”
I lose the rest as I leave hearing range.
I feel her eyes on my back and unconsciously hunch my shoulders.
I should be used to it—I've been bigger than everyone my whole life. Now, though, with the amount of muscle prison put on my already huge frame? I think Jess's reaction is gonna be something I'm gonna have to just accept.
I'm a monster: an ex-con; a violent offender.
I do my best to shrug it off, leaning against Riley's truck. A red SUV pulls in beside the truck, and a tiny Asian woman emerges, helping a little kid out of a blue booster seat; she scoops him up with a scared glance at me and hustles away.
