guys you beat up. They’re kind of special people. Nobody ever messes with them. You might find it advisable to leave town as soon as we turn you loose.” Then he moved his chair back in typing position and spoke to his partner. “Take him on back to lockup.”
Chapter 4
Jails are all the same. This one was what I call, an all in one. That is. The bullpen is a part of the individual cells instead of being separated.
The arresting cop opened the door and stood aside so I could enter. He didn’t shove me either, which didn’t surprise me. Most cops simply can’t resist shoving a prisoner, but the guys that arrested me didn’t seem the type.
The first thing I noticed was that I wasn’t alone. There was a card game going on over against one of the outside walls, and there were a few guys just walking around the corridor which encircled the two lines of cells.
I pulled out one of my smokes, lit it, and then took a couple steps in the game’s direction. Maybe I’d just watch them for a little while until someone spoke to me.
Jailhouse protocol. Don’t speak until you’re spoken to and don’t look anyone in the eye. It’s a challenge. It didn’t work.
“Hey, boy. Gimmie one of your smokes,” and he was suddenly right in front of me, and there wasn’t all that amount of space between us. I didn’t hesitate. Automatically I reached in my shirt pocket and pulled my pack back out and offered it to him. It’s just common courtesy.
Smokers all over the world know they can always ask a stranger for a cigarette and get it. I had time to study the guy as he was reaching for the pack, but not long enough to understand his intentions. He didn’t take out a cigarette. He just put the pack in his shirt pocket and walked away. I followed him but stopped short when I felt the arm snake around my neck.
His buddy was behind me and I could see the cigarette thief grinning as the guy locked me in a Japanese stranglehold. I should have panicked, but I didn’t.
Old Joe, my jiu-jitsu teacher from long ago, had told me in the very beginning of his lessons. “I’m from Singapore,” he said, “and the stuff I will teach you is what we teach the girls, but never fear. Nobody, and I mean just nobody, can beat our girls.”
Anyway, the Jap stranglehold is a death trap for most people unless the guy doing the hold just wants to yoke you out.
Joe had taught me three ways to get out of it. I used the one he said was the most dangerous because you might just break your own damn neck doing it, but the advantage was that it put you in close contact with your assailant.
Quickly, just before he applied the lockdown on me, I spun around to face him, and that put my face right up against his. He still had me in the hold when I bit his nose, and I didn’t let loose either when he let loose his hold. Fact is, I ended up with a face full of blood and some flesh in my mouth.
The cigarette thief was still standing there in shock, while all the guys at the card table just stared at us. It must have taken me four or five steps to get to the bastard, and when I did the side sweep kick to his knee, he quickly grabbed it, lowering his chin to make a nice target, when I kicked him in his face.
Both of them were now screaming. I jerked my cigarettes out of the thief’s pocket, and pulled out another one, and lit it to replace the one I had lost, when the guy put the stranglehold on me.
I needed some water. The blood on my face, and the bits of flesh in my mouth...I could feel the onrush of vomit.
I had to get it off...but somewhere down the corridor that led back to the police office, I could hear the pound of footsteps. The cops had heard the guys screaming.
Quick as I could, I stepped into the first cell right near the card table and found the sink. Then just as quick... I turned on the water and splashed my face, then I did it again, and just kept doing it until I felt the hand grab my shirt collar. It was a cop. The guy that had arrested me.
“Hell Bonner,” he growled. “You some kind of animal. You ain’t been back here only five minutes and right off your back to trying to kill some guys.”
I just stared at him, water running down my face and my eyes still full of anger. I was pissed.
Now I was in more trouble, and all at once I felt like the animal the cop had called me. I should have hurt them a lot worse I thought. Put them in the hospital for a month. Make them remember me anytime they take advantage of somebody.
“They pushed,” I blurted out. “I didn’t give up my right to defend myself just because you locked me up,” and while I’m talking he’s guiding me out of the cell.
“Sit here,” here he said, motioning for one of the guys at the table to scoot over, so I did but he went on.
“I should lock your ass up in one of these cells, and by God I swear that’s exactly what I’ll do if you start any more trouble. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah,” but then before I could tell him again that I didn’t start the fight, an old guy sitting across the table from me spoke up.
“Hey boss,” he said. “This guy didn’t do a thing until one of those guys put a choke hold on him, and by God, I’ll go in court and say the same thing if you want me to.”
“Thanks, Charlie,” the cop said. How about you guys keeping your eye on him while I get these other guys over to the hospital?”
“Sure thing boss,” and then as the cop left me to look after the cigarette crooks, the old man leaned across the table. “His name’s Pete. Been on the force for a lot of years. Straight guy.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“If you ever been in jail before, then you know why we call all the cops boss, and refer to them as the man, when we talk about them amongst ourselves.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Been there.”
We all watched the cops take the bad guys out through the door from the bullpen. They were leading the stranglehold guy who was still holding both hands up to his nose, and sort of whimpering. Two guys, had to support the cigarette thief, because he couldn't walk. The crippled leg would need an operation. The old man, Charlie, poured me a cup of coffee and set it in front of me.
“Thanks, Charlie,” I said, “My name is Bonner but I go by Jake.”
“Glad to meet you” Charlie said, and he had a big smile on his face that matched the twinkle in his eyes. “Things are kind of slow in here, so I think all of us enjoyed the entertainment. Except for the bad guys that is,” and that got a laugh from all around the table.
“Time for you to meet the rest of us. We're all drunks, and we get sent here regular. The big guy next to you is Harry Smelt, and next to him is Willy Nettles. Guy beside me is Buck Beckner.”
“Hi guys,” I said. And just like that, I was feeling good. I had a nice warm feeling all over, and as I took a sip of my coffee, I suddenly got the feeling that somehow I had ended up where I belonged. No. Not the jail. It was these men. A bunch of drunks, but they all together exuded the friendship that had nothing to do with whom I was. These guys accepted me. Already they were my friends. They had opened a door.
Maybe
