Drama City

'So,' said Rachel, after consolidating all of her trash in one bag and dropping it behind her to the floor of the backseat. 'How's it going?'

'All good,' said Lorenzo, his usual reply.

Rachel Lopez nodded and looked at Lorenzo directly, trying to draw his eyes to her. She was good at this, pulling him in.

'It is good,' he said.

'Nice to hear it,' said Rachel. 'Piece of cake, right?'

'Got its ups and downs,' said Lorenzo. 'Most times I get up in the morning, I'm anxious to get off to work. But some days? I just don't feel like dealing with people. You know, all those things people do that get on your last nerve. I'm talking about the politics and all in the day-to-day. Gives me headaches.'

'Welcome to the grind.'

'But still, it's goin' fine.'

'You feel that way, you're doing better than most.'

He looked at her, and her eyes smiled. Miss Lopez had pretty brown eyes, even without makeup. She tried to hide her looks, tried to hide the things about her that were physically attractive, her figure, everything. But she couldn't hide that nice spirit. With good people it just came through.

Showed you, the way you judged someone up front, it could be all wrong. But how she'd acted the first time they'd met, he figured that was deliberate.

When he'd first come out of prison, he'd been contacted with a written notice and follow-up phone call, and told to report to a Miss Lopez, his probation officer, out in some office building in Prince George's County, over in Maryland, within seventy-two hours. After going through a metal detector, he sat in a waiting room like a doctor's, had girl magazines all round: Rosie, Good Housekeeping, stuff like that. He was wondering why they didn't have any reading material for men, car magazines or SI, 'cause it had to be mostly men waiting out in this lobby. Then Miss Lopez came in, wearing a middle-age lady outfit like she had on now. She shook his hand, her eyes cool, telling him that this was business and she was all business, and that was how it was going to be.

They went into a room, looked like any interrogation room he'd been in at any police station, scarred table, blank walls, all of them like the rest. She didn't offer him coffee or a soda or nothing like that.

Miss Lopez then went over form number 7A, which described the conditions of his probation, point by point. Most of the rules any fool could have guessed. He couldn't commit any more crimes, couldn't own a firearm or any other 'dangerous device' or weapon, and had to 'refrain' from the use of controlled substances. As he was a convicted drug felon, he also had to submit to regular drug testing. He couldn't leave the judicial district (for him that meant D.C., Maryland, and Northern Virginia) without permission, was required to notify his parole officer as to any change of address, refrain from frequenting places where illegal substances were being distributed, refrain from excessive use of alcohol, notify his PO of any arrests (including traffic violations), and meet his 'family responsibilities,' which meant child support. He was to tell the truth at all times. And, Miss Lopez said, the most important requirement was he had to maintain lawful employment.

'It means you've got to hold down a job,' she'd said, like he didn't understand the official words.

'That's not gonna be a problem.'

'I know it's not. You have to work.'

'What I mean is, I'm close to gettin' something already.'

Miss Lopez sat back and folded her arms, the universal don't-bullshit-me sign. 'What would that be?'

'I'm about to get a position with the Animal Rescue League,' said Lorenzo.

'Over there on Oglethorpe?'

'Yeah. Yes. They gonna hire me, I expect. I'm pretty sure I gave a good interview. And I didn't hide nothin', either. The man in charge there, he knows all about my incarceration.'

Miss Lopez pointed to number 13 on the form. 'He would have to. Understand, any job you get, I'd visit you from time to time at the site.'

'I figured all that,' said Lorenzo. 'Anyway, I should know if I got it or not real soon. Couple of days, tops.'

Miss Lopez had looked at him different right about then. The cool in her eyes kind of melted away. She didn't act all nice to him sudden or anything like that. That would come later. She'd do her home visit, and then he'd start to meet with her in her own personal office, not in that box. And she'd gradually begin to treat him like an acquaintance and, later, almost like a friend. She was like those teachers you'd have back in grade and middle school, the ones you didn't think you were gonna get along with. The ones who acted the toughest in the beginning, who laid down the ground rules from the start. Those were the ones you ended up respecting most, and remembering long after the school year had passed.

'Why?' said Rachel Lopez.

'Why that job?'

'Yes.'

'I believe I can do it, for one. Matter of fact, I know I can.'

Lorenzo went on to explain about the program he'd gotten hooked up with in prison. They had this thing where the inmates could get involved in the training of dogs. These were animals that had been selected to be guides and companions to blind folks, handicapped, the elderly, shut-ins, and the like. Lorenzo had signed up for the program and, once involved, found he had the aptitude for it.

'You like animals?' said Rachel, her arms now uncrossed, the tone in her voice less hard.

'Always did,' said Lorenzo.