Chapter 9 - The Final Audit
Six months later, spring had fully arrived. The suburban neighborhood was alive with blooming cherry blossoms and the scent of fresh-cut grass.
I sat at my desk, completing my final project for the community library—a comprehensive financial literacy guide for seniors, titled Balancing Your Golden Years. It had been picked up by a regional non-profit, and they were printing five thousand copies to distribute across the state.
My phone rang. It was an official number from the state department of corrections.
I answered calmly. "Walter Bennett."
"Mr. Bennett, this is Officer Davis from the County Probation Office. We are required by the settlement agreement to give you a semi-annual status update regarding Brian Bennett."
"Go ahead, Officer."
"Brian Bennett is currently employed as an assistant manager at an automotive parts retail store in the northern part of the state. He has complied with all terms of the restitution agreement. His monthly payments of two hundred dollars are being deducted directly from his paycheck and deposited into your designated escrow account. He has had no contact with Melissa Vance, who is currently awaiting trial on separate fraud charges in another jurisdiction."
I looked at the digital spreadsheet on my screen. Every month, a two-hundred-dollar line item appeared under the description Restitution — B. Bennett. The total amount owed would take him fifteen years to pay off.
"Is he maintaining stable housing?" I asked.
"He is renting a small studio apartment near his workplace. His supervisor reports that he is punctual and working fifty hours a week. He requested that we pass along a message to you, if you were willing to receive it."
I paused, looking at the photo of Helen on my desk. "What is the message, Officer?"
"He said... 'Tell Dad the ledger is accurate. I'm learning how to count.'"
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, feeling a quiet sense of peace settle over me. He wasn't cured. He wasn't completely redeemed. But he was working. He was earning his own bread. He was finally learning the value of a dollar, and more importantly, the value of his own labor.
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"Thank you, Officer. Please inform him that his next payment is due on the first of the month."
I hung up the phone.
