As the terms of his plea deal begin, Daniel meets with his probation officer. But before leaving, Sheriff Daggett shows up and has an informal Q and A with him, in the men’s room, in regards to the discovery of George’s body. This—and a later interview that includes Daniel’s lawyer—gets me so frustrated that I’m shouting, “Daniel! Just answer the question like a normal human being!” But “normal” is an extremely relative term when a man’s adult personality is entirely based on prison life, where beatings and rape and other indignities are considered to be “normal.” Where an escape through literature and poetry can redeem a death row inmate’s belief that humanity has taken a sabbatical, teaching him a sense of ethics that is sorely missing in incarceration. That is the foundation for all that is Daniel; that is why his seemingly flippant answers to the sheriff’s questions are intelligent and insightful but just a bit jaded. His unguarded responses are not the norm. But asking Daniel to change, like Jon Stern valiantly struggles to do, would be to abandon what makes Rectify so good: unpredictability.
During an informal chat with his new employer Melvin, Daniel discusses the choices on where he should go when his banishment from the state begins. As points around the world are thrown about, Daniel says, with tired resignation, “Truth be told, Melvin, I don’t see any foreign travel in my future, ever.” But does Melvin care about Daniel as much as he seems to?
Meanwhile, Amantha is in Macon for some Thrifty Town management training. When asked to stand before the small class and talk about herself, she lets everything out in a therapeutic burst—the loss of her brother to prison when she was only 12, the work to get him out, and the letdown of his confession. To top it off she has a one-night stand with a traveling salesman. She’s a woman with no direction. But that may change if Daniel is charged with the murder of George.