“So did you fill out the application?” he asked. 

“No, Sir, I haven’t.” 

“Okay,” as he shuffled in the bottom drawer of the desk we sat at. He pulled out a book . . . well, it seemed to be. I looked wide-eyed and shook my head before he started to raise his body up. “Okay, fill this out and we will talk after you are done,” he directed me. 

“Yes.” I had responded back with a light smile. He got up and excused himself and headed toward the office door. 

“Do you have a pen?” he asked trying to test my preparation skills. 

One thing I had learned on my own throughout the years. Always be prepared for the unknown. You never know when you need a pen and paper. I nodded yes. And he exited the office and closed the door lightly. 

Breezing through the first few basic knowledge questions of myself and morality questions I had stumbled and ignored one. If I didn’t know, I skipped. Finish the rest and go back to it later on towards the end of the test. I hear all my exam teachers’ voices over the years of test taking. Maybe I just didn’t want to face these questions. Or maybe I didn’t want them to know my weakness and what I feared. 

Have you ever been convicted of a felony? If yes, for what and when? 

The question was there. In plain sight! It wasn’t going to go anywhere. I went around the question. I tried to even act like it didn’t even exist. I really just wanted to get up and walk out. Maybe even lie. How will they find out? I thought I had dealt with it, but I was not ready to face it. Yes . . . 

I just stared at the completed application. Incomplete thoughts and “what if’s” and “I just hope so.” Until a light knock on the door and his head popped in. 

“Everything okay?” he asked cheerfully.