“This is public record now, huh?” Mason asked, holding a copy of his mug shot.
“Sure is, kid. Make better choices now, okay?” Officer Darsen said, handing over the remainder of the recently released criminal’s items.
Mason grabbed a lighter, a coat and a copy of Blues Brothers 2000 he did not remember buying and made his way to his outside, to his very displeased mother idling in a station wagon.
He took the passenger seat and tried to avoid discussion. He messed up. Bail was expensive. His life was going to get weird and tough as soon as he got home.
His mother did not say a single word on the drive home. She simply stared at the road and swerved to avoid roadkill on occasion. The only comment came as the car was turned off and left to rest in the drive way. Mason watched his mother’s eyes glance to his stack of belongings where, resting on top of the stack, his copy of the mug shot and arrest detail sat.
“I need you to promise me, that mug shot is on the centerpiece for every family holiday gathering from now until I die. Do you understand? Your punishment is seeing that for all eternity. When Gramma passes potatoes, it will be over that mug shot. When your cousin throws corn across the table, it will fly over that mug shot. This is your promise to me.” His mother spoke without hint of sarcasm or irony. Her words were true and to be heeded.
Mason sighed, “fine. I understand.”
Mason would have many regrets in his life. Chief among them; being arrested at a frat party in clown college.
Thanks for reading!