At exactly 6:36 a.m. on January 31, 1989 Norman was taken from his cell for the last time and the feeling he had was like a hermit crab crawling out of it's cramped shell. He was brought to the processing department for the release procedures. As he was signing all the necessary paperwork one of the officers handed him a large box saying "This was delivered for your release."
Norman looked at the long box curiously and opened it, where he found, to is delight, a three piece grey gabardine suit, a white dress shirt with french cuffs, a grey silk tie, a pair of dress socks and a pair of Italian leather cap toe shoes, along with a set of silver cuff links in the shape of an X! Norman stood at the sergeant's desk slipping out of his denim prisoner's uniform, like a snake shedding it's skin, as he proceeded to dress himself in front of the officers whom had stood guard over him the last ten years. Norman felt a sense of pride and dignity come over him instantly as soon as he was attired in the expensive garments; which fit his athletic, tall, muscular body perfectly, as if tailored made for his measurements. Even the guards remarked how dapper and dashing he looked, saying he was very lucky to have a friend on the outside that cared enough about him to send along such a posh gift. Yes, a good friend indeed, he had replied. Now our Norman stood there for a minute not sure what to do next, for his time had been carefully monitored and his movements relegated to the schedule of the prison guards. "Well, all you've to do now is be sure to report to your parole officer next week and please Norman..," the sergeant said "try and stay out of trouble. Don't let me catch you back in here." he said extending his hand.
"Oh aye!" Norman said as he looked at the men in blue for the last time.
"There's a car waiting." one of the other officers said as he and another guard escorted the prisoner, un-cuffed, down the long hall through the barb wired fences, on that bitter cold morning as a light dusting of snow began to fall, their breath a mist of silver as Norman was let out of the locked, armed gates, a free man. His heart raced like a grey hound chasing after a rabbit as he saw a stylish, new, long black town car with tinted windows parked at the entrance to the old prison. The driver stepped out, a charcoal grey camel hair coat draped over his arm.
"Your coat sir." the middle aged Englishman said helping Norman into the warm garment, bundling up against the early morning winter air. "Your gloves." the driver said as he handed them to Norman who was anxious for him to open up the back door, for surely he thought Xavier would be sitting in the car waiting for him. However, the backseat was empty as Norman climbed in disappointed. His driver gave Norman a friendly smile as he sat behind the wheel, pulling away from the prison. Norman turned around in his seat watching as the old stone fortified structure slowly disappeared in the back ground and out of view forever. Each mile the driver put between Norman and the prison walls made him feel more relaxed and hopeful of the future.
Now Norman sat back and felt something in the pocket of his coat. He reached in and pulled out a small manila envelope. There inside he found an English passport with his picture, but someone else's name. Bengiman Pruce, it read.There were several visa stamps to many different countries with dates from 1978-1989. As he flipped through his new passport he found a birth certificate folded up inside, it too read Bengiman Pruce, born 31 of October 1955. Now the only thing right about the birth certificate was the birth year. Norman looked at his photo on the apparently legal document, he repeated in his mind Bengiman Pruce, Bengiman Pruce. It took about a quarter of an hour for 'Bengiman' to snap out of his mind numbing trance when he had the sudden realization he had no idea where he was going "Driver?"
"Yes Mr.Pruce?" the driver looked back in the rear view mirror.
Silent, vacant stare "Where are you taking me?"
"Mr.Pruce, I apologize, I am not at liberty to say."
Our newly named Bengiman sat back intrigued by what his old friend Xavier was up to, but really Bengiman was just so thankful and happy his dear friend had not forgotten about him. It was a long drive, where ever they were headed, and Bengiman enjoyed the ride through the snow covered English countryside. The bare trees so dark in the wood, mists rising up over the rivers and streams, quite country cottages with wisps of grey smoke trailing up from the chimneys. Picture fucking perfect our Bengiman thought, however as they headed south he began to recognize the scenery, for his driver had taken him to Kent. He became anxious as the car pulled in through the black iron gates of the local cemetery. They proceeded down a small gravel road past the many long rows of tombstones and statues of weeping, winged angels. All the blood which ran through Bengiman's veins was like ice water and the heavy weight of dread overcame him.
The driver stopped the car turned and said "We're here Mr.Pruce." next he got out of the drivers seat and opened up the back door for his passenger. It took Bengiman a moment to step to his feet as he looked uncertain where to go "Over there Mr.Pruce." the kindly driver pointed "See the wreath of red roses? I believe they were your mother's favorite."
Norman Pierce looked over and saw the flowers at some distance and he began walking slowly, carefully through the snow, towards his mothers grave. The pain and the heartache and loss of his dear sweet lady began billowing up in his heart, as bitter tears of regret began welling up in his eyes. As he grew ever nearer to that hallowed ground, Gertrude's heartbroken little boy did not hear the sound of his driver departing the cemetery grounds, leaving the broken man alone with his pain. The headstone was a beautiful, magnificent, solid pink granite stone, carved with climbing vines of roses and thorns. The words Loving Mother, Gertrude Ashley Pierce, 1926-1985, of course he knew this could have only been erected and paid for by Xavier and his sisters. After his lamentations Norman/Bengiman heard the sound of a vehicle coming down the long gravel road, he turned to see a white stretch limousine pull up alongside the path. As he stood at the foot of his beloved mother's grave, he watched in shock as he saw the driver open up the back door, where to his delight he saw a familiar looking, tall, dark haired, handsome man standing with his hand extended, helping out of the back seat a petite, raven haired beauty. It was, no other than, Felina and her brother!
"Felina! Xavier! Oh my Christ!" he yelled across the headstones running, nearly slipping on the path in his excitement. He ran towards his darling girl, sweeping her up in his arms as she kissed his lips, tears of love and joy staining her rosy cheeks as Xation threw his arms around both of them. "God it is so great to see you!"
"Look at you! My God you are built like a Spartan Warrior!" Xation exclaimed seeing his friend who was now a full grown, mature man after so many long years.
"And you! Xavier! You're not a young lad anymore! Older, much more mature looking! You look like a captain of industry!" he exclaimed for he was a boy of 19 when last they saw each other.
"That is because I am, Bengiman." Xation refered to him by his new identity for the first time.
"Oh Bengiman!" Felina sighed with an ecstatic smile "My brother Xation, and I have waited so long!"
"Xa.., tion?" Bengiman said slowly sounding out the name a little confused.
"Yes, Xation, sounds almost exactly like Satan!" Felina laughed then she turned and said "Come Bengiman, it is far too cold here. We need to go somewhere where it is warmer, do you not agree?" Felina gave one of her illicit little smiles and said "We would like very much to take you back to Argentina with us and make you part of our family." a pause, followed by silence as this sank in to her friend's brain. "That is, if that's alright by you?"
Xation Day looked over at his loyal friend and smiled "We will make it worth your while, after everything you have done to protect my freedom and my name, please, for you must be repaid."
Bengiman Pruce looked at his dear friends and with no thought of his parole or the future he extended his hand to his wealthy and influential friend and said "Cheers mate! I thought you'd never ask!"
"Then come, we will go!" Xation exclaimed "For we have waited far too long for this day!" he smiled warmly and said "We have reservations for lunch at the Guinea, in London, and we have much to discuss about your future," Xation smiled warmly at his good and faithful friend saying "so let us be on our way."
THE END
