Chapter 2 – THE ARRIVAL

AS THE GATES OPENED, a paddy wagon pulled into the entrance. Two men jumped out of the driver and passenger seats and walked to the back of the vehicle. They opened the back doors and two armed guards escorted the young man out. He was dressed in a county jail uniform and heavily shackled as he was being led up the steps to the building.

Frank Stuart was a good-looking young man. At 22, he still had a boyish look about him. He had a pale complexion, almost free of any blemishes. His wavy brown hair blew gently in the warm breeze of that month, and his electric blue eyes – which normally sparkled with joy and mischief – were now sullen and downcast. As a child, people often remarked about his beauty. They often mistook him for an angel. Throughout his young life, he had always been cheerful and carefree. Always quick to smile, he had a positive and optimistic outlook on life. He was the go-to guy if you had a problem or a worry, and he immediately set to work to make your problem disappear. Growing up, he was well-liked by many who knew him, though he did have his fair share of bullies. He had a small stature and he often got teased because of it. That did not mean that he took anybody's crap. He was quick-witted and had a ready comeback for any insult thrown at him. And a scrapper, he never backed down from a fight when he or someone was threatened.

Although he appeared calm on the surface, he was quaking on the inside. He had often heard about what went on in prisons, jails, and even mental institutions. Panic set in; he was totally unprepared for whatever came his way. He was definitely going to get beat up, no matter how tough he was and no matter how he would fight back. He didn't know what type of crazies that he would face.

The first thing that happened was that he was stripped of his clothing and thrown into the shower. The orderlies sprayed him with ice cold water. He screamed as the sensation shot through his nerves like ice picks piercing through his skin and up to his brain. Then the orderlies covered him with talcum powder, dressed him up in a hospital gown, and strapped him down to a bed.

"Are these restraints really necessary?" he asked.

"Shut up," replied one of the orderlies.

"Come on!" Frank pleaded. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not a threat to you –"

"I said, shut up!"

And Frank shut up.