Straight Life - Art Pepper [80]
So kicking is the most insidious thing. It's a million times worse than they portray it. It's not an outward, noisy anguish. It's an inner suffering that only you, and, if there's any such thing as God, like, maybe you and He know it.
The amount of time it took to be booked in was incredible. That first time the place was jammed with people, people that stank and derelicts. I looked around and thought, "What am I doing here? What did I ever do to get put in a place like this?" And I had no conversation during the whole thirty-six hours that I was being booked in.
As I said, when you're sick the sensation of water touching your skin is like a physical pain. So the first thing they make you do, they force you into a shower, a funky shower; the floor is filthy, and the soap they use is yellow soap that you wash clothes with, floors with. Then, after you've showered and you're shivering and your pores are wide open, before you get a towel, you walk out and they've got trustees there with the guards. The trustees have big cans with long handles on them, like fly spray cans, and they make you raise your arms and they squirt this bug juice underneath your arms, and it's so strong it goes right into your pores and burns. They make you pick up your balls and they squirt it all around your joint. They make you bend over and spread your cheeks, and they squirt it in your ass, and it runs down and burns like fire. They squirt it on your hair, and it's horrible-smelling stuff. I made the mistake of thinking that trustees would be cool so I said, "Could you go easy?" As soon as I said that they shot more on me. Then they give you a towel to dry yourself. You put on these clothes that they give you that don't fit, and then you go to the linen room and get a mattress, a "donut" they call it. You get an old, funky blanket and a filthy pillow that smells of urine and vomit and come. You get a mattress cover that you use as a sheet and an old, beat towel.
I was so sick by that time I didn't know what was happening. You go to the hospital and they have you stand there and drop your pants, grab your joint, and squeeze it to see if you've got a venereal disease; if you don't that's it. They take you to whatever cell you're going to. I was white and I was a heroin addict, so I went to the white hype tank. That was 12-B-1. As you walk up to the front of the tank the guys come and look at you and they give you the coldest looks imaginable. And then you go inside. They finally open the gate, and you walk inside.
If you have money, anything over six dollars, they put it with your property, with your rings or your watch, but you can keep six dollars on you, cash, to buy candy and cigarettes. They give you an envelope: it's like an ID and it shows your charge, your name, and how much cash you kept. If you're a narcotics addict they stamp an N on your envelope so they'll always know you're an addict. Then, if you go for visiting and you get underwear or socks or anything, they'll soak them first in water because people sometimes cook up heroin and pour it in an agreed on spot in the shorts or whatever, and when the guy gets them in he can cut that part out and put it in the spoon. If you're an addict everything is soaking wet when you get it.
In the block there's about eighteen cells, and the number one cell is the trustees' cell. These aren't trustees like the ones that were squirting us, trustrees dressed in brown who live upstairs and do the work in the jail. These were just the trustees that run the tank. They interrogate you. Where are you from? Who do you hang out with? Who busted you? What officer? Have you got anybody running for you on the streets? Your old lady? Is she going to send you any bread, any dope? They want to know if there's a chance of you doing them any good. If they think you've got something going for you they'll try to put you in a better cell. Fortunately, I knew a couple of people there and I was pretty