CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
2003 - Get Busy[1]
New Year’s Day 2003 marked the beginning of the homestretch.
A few weeks later I got word that my parole hearing had been set for June sixth.
I had a squeaky-clean behavioral record- zero strikes against me- so I was pretty confident I’d be getting out before my twenty-sixth birthday. This meant that I needed to start figuring out a re-entry plan. Beacon was a decent enough place to do time at, but they weren’t particularly stellar with social services geared towards post-prison survival strategies.
First up was finding a place to crash. I already knew Bed Stuy would not be it.
As soon as I got my hearing confirmed, I’d approached Simone about possibly finding a place together once we were both out- her date was set for the week before mine. But it was a no go- she had a man waiting for her. Not a good man by any means, but a man. I was kinda bummed when she turned me down, but I understood.
Timing my transition was gonna be awkward, period. I couldn’t look for a roommate type situation too far in advance and I did NOT want to bounce from Beacon straight to a halfway house. I was so done with single sex living and I did not want anyone having any control over when and how I came and went.
I decided all I could do was let go and let God. I was so sick of stressing over things I could not control. Everything would work itself out. It had to.
June sixth rolled around and I went before the parole board- the boring procedural details aren’t worth mentioning, but I was granted parole.
And, to be honest, even after all that work I put in at the law library, I still had no idea what I would and would not be allowed to do once I was on the streets. I supposed I’d find out at some point, though, and I decided not to sweat it.
I would most likely be released before July, right before my birthday.
[1] Sean Paul, “Get Busy,” 2003
