“You got everything, Wilson?”
Wilson swung his arms wide, like a bird taking flight, then brought them down in a firm pat against his pockets.
“Looks that way. Thanks for looking out for me, Warden. Give the boys my regards.”
“Oh!” the warden exclaimed. “Before I forget.” The warden slipped a stuffed envelope into Wilson’s coat pocket. “Buy yourself something nice, eh? We’ll see you soon, I’m sure.”
“You bet,” Wilson smirked. “Keep the sheets warm for me.”
He stuck out his hand; the warden shook it firmly, pulled Wilson close.
“Don’t you think it’s time you stay out for good?” the warden whispered.
“You gonna start doing your job?” Wilson asked, his voice as cold and steady as a glacier.
The warden grimaced.
“Then I’ve still got work to do,” Wilson said, shaking his head.
The warden’s grip slackened, and Wilson pulled his hand free. He nodded to the warden, whispered, “I’ll miss you, Wardie.”
“Nothing, nothing,” Wilson chuckled. “Take care of yourself, old man.” With a wink, he turned and walked away, the hallway ringing with laughter as he went.