I traveled a short ways further, then abruptly decided to go back and take a closer look at the bulls. I did a U-turn, and just as I finished turning, two police officers (dressed in black) ran out on the road in front of me. I immediately realized I shouldn't have made the U-turn. I knew making a U-turn was legal in Texas, but we were in Ohio, where U-turns weren't legal. I thought I might at least try to point out to the police that I was used to driving in Texas, where U-turns were legal.

I stopped the car and stepped out, leaving Chris inside. The two police officers escorted me into a small building, where they began writing a ticket for me. A woman who was helping walked up and wrote some things on a piece of paper, but she didn't give me a copy. I asked her if she was going to give me a ticket, and she replied she had already given it to me. I retorted that she hadn't given me anything. She began looking through her papers, and then walked away as if she were going to fetch the ticket.

I sat down in the little room. A second thin wiry woman (about 40 years old) walked into the room. She told me she worked for the police, then she stood behind me and began fiddling with my collar. I jerked away and asked her what she was doing. She replied, "Nothing."

She seemed as if she wanted to position herself behind me, but I kept my eye on her. Suddenly she seemed to reach for something on a nearby table, and before I could react, she deftly poked me above my eye with a hypodermic needle. She had injected something into me! I was shocked and I demanded to know what she was doing. She wouldn't tell me. Again she said, "Nothing."

She attempted to leave, but I grabbed her and wouldn't let her go. I didn't want to hold her, but I wanted to know what was going on. I forced her out of the room, to an area where some other police officers were located, and I motioned one of the officers to come to me. He was a thin black man. I asked him if this woman worked here in the police station. He said, "She likes to think she does, but she usually works for other mothers."

I immediately concluded something was wrong here. I continued holding the woman, hoping the woman hadn't injected me with something to contaminate my blood and falsely indicate I had been drinking alcohol. I even began imagining I might die from the injection.

I thought of dying in Ohio, and I thought of all the people I had known who had died in Ohio. For some reason, Bishop (the father of my old girlfriend Birdie), came to mind. He had died in Ohio. I thought back how I had never really known Bishop, even though I had known Birdie for so long. I recalled that the story had been that Bishop had gone to prison for raping someone. I didn't know much more about him, but I did know he had died in Ohio.

I, however, wasn't ready to die, and I especially didn't  want to die in Ohio. I was sure of that.

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