Dear Red, if you’re reading this you’ve gotten out and if you’ve come this far maybe you’re willing to come a little further. You remember the name of the town don’t you? … I could use a good man to help me get my project on wheels. I’ll keep an eye out for you and the chess board ready. Remember Red, hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things, and no good thing ever dies. I will be hoping this letter find you and finds you well, your friend Andy.
Rehabilitated? Well, now, let me see. You know, I don’t have any idea what that means. I know what you think it means, sonny. To me, it’s just a made up word. A politician’s word, sonny. Young fellas like yourself can wear a suit and a tie and have a job. What do you really want to know? Am I sorry for what I did? There’s not a day goes by I don’t feel regret. Not because I’m in here. Because you think I should. I look back on the way I was then. A young, stupid kid who committed that terrible crime. I want to talk to him. I want to try to talk some sense to him. Tell him the way things are. But I can’t. That kid’s long gone and this old man’s all that’s left. I got to live with that. Rehabilitated? That’s just a bullshit word. So you go on and stamp your form, sonny, and stop wasting my time. Because, to tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit.