2.13 - Intake
“How long do you think we’ll be here,” the man next to me asks for the third time.
They moved me down to intake when they realized I wasn’t going to give them anything in the interrogation room. It’s not like I had any information anyway. They think they’re breaking me down and getting some revenge, but I’m just bored. The waiting room, or holding tank is colder than the interrogation room. I saw a place like this once before.
My brother Evan got arrested once, more than once. When he started getting depressed, he started fighting a lot. At the time, I couldn’t understand it, but now I’ve been through a similar phase in my own life. Funny thing is it wasn’t the fighting that landed him in jail, it was drugs. I don’t think he was a drug addict. No matter how often I think about it, I can never see any signs of drug use. He said he picked up the wrong bag after a fight, a cop stopped him and found drugs. The cop shouldn’t have even been able to stop him, there wasn’t any reasonable cause. Getting hit with a drug case was just a fast forward button on a guy who’s life was already going downhill.
My parents were furious. They refused to bail him out, and for days Edan and I wondered where he was. When we found out, we came down to the jail and they sent us to a room that looked a little like this. White walls, beige floors, no clocks, or television and a guard watching you from behind the glass. It was different because there was just a big cell, with metal bars on the back wall. It was real old school, like everything else where we grew up. Here, we get plastic chairs to sit in. We had to get a homeless guy to pretend to be our dad since we weren’t old enough to bail him out. We emptied our savings that day to get him free.
Jail should have been the first sign that things were getting bad for him. We thought we had gotten our brother back. He worked hard, paid the fine for possession, took the addiction classes. More than that he paid Edan and I back. He treated us the way he did before things got dark. I wonder if he had already made up his mind to commit suicide at that point.
Now I’m wondering if Edan has the same thoughts whenever he gets locked up. He loves to remind me he’s never been to prison, only jail. He’s probably talked his way out of it more than a few times. Evan panicked, Edan probably laughed it off, and I’m just bored. The Gray brothers, a hell of a group.
“Gray, get up and walk through the door,” The guard calls from behind the glass.
I don’t put up a fight, and go through the door. Another order to follow the blue line and I do as I’m told. I enter into a small room with bright lights, and no furniture except a table. Two guards walk in and demand I stand against the wall.
“Go ahead and get naked,” one of the guards says with a smile.
“Is there a reason?”
“We need to do a cavity search,” the same guard answers.
“Why? I walked through scanners on the way here.”
“Scanners aren’t working,” the second guard responds.
“Okay, I see what this is.”
It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been naked in front of another man, but I doubt there’s going to be any sex this time. At least not consensual, anyway. It’s always something with cops. The constant need to exert their will so they can embarrass, break or torment others. There’s a reason so many people who can’t pass basic training end up as cops, they’re just not good enough for the military. They lack in the common sense department, and the shiny little badge erases whatever little they had left. Power tripping bullies too dumb to realize when they’re the bad guys.
“Don’t make us tell you again. Take your clothes off, lift your hands above your head,” the first guard raises his voice.
"I’m actually not going to get naked for you,” I roll my eyes.
“I’m not joking around,” the first guard asks.
“Probably scared we’ll see that little pecker,” the second laughs.
“Do you think this is a joke,” the first guard places a hand on his gun, and releases the safety strap.
“No, I actually think this is not only a violation of my civil rights, but also sexual assault with the intent to embarrass me. I’m trying to get through it peacefully because I know I could handle the two of you, but you have guns. Still, you won’t use them because this little town can’t afford the lawsuit. You really don’t need to see me naked, comment on my genitalia or shine a light up my ass because there’s no reason for you to think I’m hiding contraband. Even then cavity searches have been proven ineffective. There’s no purpose to them but domination, intentional injury and embarrassment. If you really thought I was hiding something you’d give me a laxative and wait until I took a shit.”
Something drops on the ground behind me, “jumpsuit and 2 sandwiches in the bag. One peanut butter and jelly, one ham. Put the jump suit on, put your clothes in the bag. Hold the sandwiches and step out when you’re dressed,” cop number one is pissed off now.
“It’s a good thing I’m not allergic to peanuts,” I call as they shut the door.
Note: I wrote this scene a year ago, and started watching Reacher last week. I guess I wasn't the only writer who has an issue with police doing strip searches and especially cavity searches.
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