In prisons around the world, almost every day was a special day for a particular prisoner. It would be the day when he becomes a free man and picks up the title of 'ex-convict'. Spending so long a time behind bars can be very trying. The isolation, the loneliness, the quiet. The prisoner is cut off from the society, but not for nothing. He is kept locked mainly for the good of the society and also for his own good.

The quiet and free time gives him more than enough opportunity to think things through and perhaps regret his actions, so that when he is finally released, he would be positively useful, not only to himself but to the entire society at large. But how often does this happen?

It was Thursday, the eve of John Baldwin's special day and he was looking forward to it with as much anticipation as his little frame could muster. He had been arrested and imprisoned for possession and dealing in heroine. Up until six months ago, he had been serving his sentence in a medium-security prison before he was brought to finish off the sentence in Ramsden or so the records said. Now walking leisurely in the yard, he could not help but try to imagine what exactly would happen with him after tomorrow.

"Yo Johnny? Wadup?"

John looked sharply behind him to find his friend and cell-mate, Henry Gonzalez running after him with no small difficulty due to his enormous size. Both men were about the same height, but Henry was much older and had a very large belly which was quivering as he fell in step with John.

"Tomorrow's your day, right?", he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah. Can't wait for tomorrow."

"Look at ya. Ha ha. Can't wait for mine too, you know. Wish we could swap places."

"Not on your life."

Henry laughed loud and long. John stopped and looked at his friend, his large bass-like mouth was turned upward, howling a laugh that sounded like a hyena's. He knew from experience that if he let him, Henry would keep laughing till he fainted. John punched him on the shoulder in an effort to get him serious again.

"Wha... what say you, I kill you now and take your place, huh?", Henry gasped between laughs.

"Impossible. But hey, you haven't given me that stuff."

Henry was suddenly serious again. He looked furtively around and huddled closer to John. Clearing his throat, he put his hand into his large overall through the neck and after a lot of struggling, pulled out a piece of paper that was folded into a tiny square shape. Glancing furtively around again, he handed it over to John.

"There's the whole thing, man," he whispered. "Directions and numbers. Everything you need."

John nodded enthusiastically and quickly hid it away.

"Thanks man."

They shook hands and embraced. Just when John thought he would get pulverized, his large friend released him and held his face with meaty hands. A couple of slaps and pats and Henry was on his way, his large belly leading the way. John stared at the heavy figure of his friend rushing across the yard. He couldn't imagine how he managed to breathe at all with such a large belly. He shrugged and patted the part of his overall where he had stowed the all-important paper. Just then, the loud prison alarm blared, announcing the end of yard time and John had to join the crowd of prisoners heading for their various cells.

***

It was early evening and Henry was snoring just few feet away from him and John, knowing the talkative nature of his friend, knew that it was the best time to do what he wanted to do. He brought out the paper Henry had earlier given him and carefully unfolded it. He glanced back at Henry again before perusing the little document. He found that it contained exactly what his friend had promised him: phone numbers and directions to Henry's friends on the outside.

Studying it minutely, he memorized every detail and silently recited them over and over again until he was satisfied that everything was committed to his elastic memory. Time was of the essence, so he quickly folded the paper and tucked it into the tiny space between the last bar and the wall before going to sleep.

**

The merciless blaring of the loud alarm woke everyone including Henry, but John himself had actually been up for over an hour, mentally and psychologically preparing himself for the long day ahead. Soon after, a guard came for him and with just a few words of gratitude and farewell to Henry, he went to get processed for release immediately.

He got his personal effects and a bus pass along with a stern warning never to come back. Standing on that quiet road in that bright and cheery morning, John Baldwin looked left, right and straight ahead, but never backward. The world was open to him, but he had only one place to go, one destination to turn to: Quarker. This was the next town after Ramsden. It was the place where the friends of Henry Gonzalez could be found.

The directions and other details still fresh in his memory, John began his journey out of the town. He was no newcomer, he had been here for six months, but only behind bars the entire time. Seeing the city and its inhabitants outside the prison walls felt refreshing and fascinating. Little as it was, the town was lively and looked industrious. There was human and commercial activity in every cranny albeit in small scale. John loved the town. He liked the vigor and the energy and he would have loved to stick around for much longer, but his destination was calling. He wasn't so unhappy leaving the town behind though, instincts told him he'll be back here before long.

Getting off the bus at Quarker, John didn't display any sign of hesitation or confusion. He walked quickly off the main road and took the side walk towards his first stop. Mentally arranging the memorized locations in the right order, it didn't take him long to get to his final destination.

It was dark when he got there and approaching the building casually, he saw the fence lined by pot-smoking street ruffians who he guessed were acting as gatekeepers and informants. Seeing him focused on the building, one of them accosted him before he could reach the gate.

"Hey, what you prying around for? Lost or something?", he growled, puffing smoke into John's face.

John looked him up and down, right and left and then focused on his eyes. He wasn't just acting fearless, he really was fearless.

"I'm here to see Nico, is he in?"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"A friend of Henry Gonzalez. Nico's expecting me."

The ruffian was slightly taken aback. He tried to look unconvinced, but John could see that he was checked by the fact that John knew two such influential men.

"Wait here," he mumbled and swaggered his way through the gate.

The cold was bitingly intense and showed no sign of relenting which made John increasingly impatient and annoyed. He hated waiting out there in such harsh weather, but he had to tell himself that it would soon be over although how soon would depend on how fast that idiot moved.

Few minutes later, he heard the sound of the gate being opened. The ruffian appeared and asked him, in a far more polite language, to follow him. John would jump at any chance to get out of the cold, but for pride's sake, he screwed up his face and moved slowly, with as much air of importance as he could summon, past the ruffian into the compound.

It was a beautiful structure, Nico's building, no doubt built with proceeds from illicit drug deals and many other crimes. The surroundings were well decorated with ornamental flowers and trees and some relaxation spots, in fact it looked like a little villa. Getting into the house itself, he was treated to more splashes of luxury. It was clear that Nico had fine taste. From the expensive technology procured for security and amusement to the interior decoration which included superb works of art, plush sofas, expensive rugs, etc, John couldn't help but believe that Nico was living in a state of bliss not far from that in heaven. But what could be said of the man himself?

Tall, slim, blonde and sharp-looking, he was evidently the smartest person in the room. John didn't need a clairvoyant to tell him that Nico was not one to be trifled with. One glance at him and John could judge the man's acute sense of perception. Nothing went unnoticed in Nico's presence and John was already fighting hard within himself not to be subdued by the man's aura.

"Hey, you must be the Baldwin guy," Nico bellowed as he approached John with outstretched hands and a confident stride.

Everything about him exuded superiority. He held John by his shoulders and looked into his eyes for a moment before nodding approvingly and showing him to a sofa. John had managed to meet his gaze without blinking and he congratulated himself for the feat. Even though it lasted for just a few seconds, it felt like a thousand years to him. This was far from John's earlier expectations.

He had expected Nico to be very smart, but still a ruffian. He was not prepared to meet an educated, cunning and superior-aired personality. As he sat quietly, taking in his surroundings, he knew he'd have to work on certain things about himself if he would be successful in this new venture.