Got a phone call the other day. I'd been expecting it for a while, but it was still pure joy and relief which coursed through my veins when I realized what it was about.
"Hello?" says I.
"Kendra?" the female voice on the other end said, a voice which although not instantly familiar, rang a dim bell of recognition in my brain.
"Yeeess?"
"Kendra Martinez? Formerly known as Kendra Goodrick, but not anymore, because the Idaho Department of Correction is releasing her from supervised probation?" there was a singsong, smiling tone to the voice, and I finally recognized it as Tammy Douglas, who up to that point had been my probation officer.
"We got your discharge papers back from the judge, and I'm going to be leaving them at the front desk here for you to pick up, okay?"
I babbled something nonsensical with a relived laugh and got out a promise to be there shortly. I managed to thank her for this past year, for being such a nice lady. She responded in kind, saying something about how she wished all her caseloads were so easy. We laughed about her telling Kevin Kempf that no, he did not need to alert the media, my fifteen minutes of fame were long done, and thankfully so. Then I hung up the phone and let out a whoop, startling my son and probably the neighbors, as loud as it was.
Then I danced manically around the house, singing a song I made up on the spot- I can't quite remember it now, but there were lots of "Oh yeah"s and "Freedom!"s in it. I probably looked a bit like this:
Except, of course, I don't own any moon boots.
