Mom and I continued to have our differences. She was clinging to me in an effort to lead me down the right path. I was pulling away as hard as I could, because I felt like I had friends that were genuinely interested in teaching me about the outside world. Something I was fascinated by and uncontrollably drawn too.

During a particularly intense argument which actually came down to a physical struggle, Mom called the police again and made arrangements for me to be taken into juvenile custody. I was handcuffed and put in the back of the police cruiser and driven 30 minutes away to another small town. There I was stripped of everything and given prison clothes and locked in a cell. I don’t remember a lot about the experience except they would let us out to go to the cafeteria and to watch television on certain nights. I spent the whole month of November there, including Thanksgiving.

I vividly remember a window looking out towards the front of the facility. Of course, with bars on it and the type of safety glass that you see in schools with diagonal wires running between the window panes. I spent a lot of time on my tip toes looking out that window. I was below ground level so the window itself was not far off the ground. One afternoon, I saw Fred’s car pull into the parking lot. Jesse and Fred got out and walked down the sidewalk towards the main door. I was screaming my head off at them to notice me from that window. Evidently Mom had left instructions for no visits particularly from Jesse. No sooner had they entered the main door they were turned around walking back out. I tried so hard to get them to notice me, but they never heard me calling. I watched them as they walked away and left in the car. I sobbed crying so hard.

I realize Mom was trying everything she could to get me to leave those people alone. It was hard, yes, very hard. It wasn’t an arrangement where I would have that on my record, but one where I guess it was considered “tough love”. She was trying to get some sense into me and I was pulling away at all cost. The corrections officers must have known I wasn’t in there for any type criminal activity. They were nice to me and would even allow me to stay out of my cell occasionally and sit in the cafeteria.

A few days into the month of December, Mom came to pick me up. The drive home was very quiet, neither of us had much to say. That lesson did teach me that I never wanted to be locked up. Sometimes the only way to learn something is the hard way.