After loosening my handcuffs, he put me back in the car and we began the long drive to the county courthouse. Brian pressed the Man Overboard button on the GPS and tagged along behind. The deputy, pleased with himself, sang along softly to the country music station: "Shake! It really turns me on... Shake! Really turns me on!"

We arrived at a crumbling rural courthouse full of stale cigarette smoke. The arresting officer completed the paperwork, prints and photos, and the clean-cut, handsome Sheriff told us that bail would be set by 4 p.m. and court scheduled for the next morning at 11:00.

After I was locked down, lunch was served. It consisted of two thick-cut bologna slabs on white with creamed corn and a bite- sized serving of chocolate cake. There were also apple halves, which the guys saved for later. I got my own set of plastic silverware and my own styrofoam cup, which I was told to write my name on.

Raoul, meanwhile, was asking if he could bring me some food. "No food allowed," came the answer, "but you can take him up to a carton of cigarettes."

© 1997,98 Henry Kingman

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