Serenity Now!

This is from the memoir I wrote about my meth addiction and recovery.  I’m currently seeking representation.

Right up until the night of my arrest, I guess I thought everything was just fine–that I was fine. But deep down I wasn’t happy, and I was far from being all right. It’s strange how calm it is in the eye of a tornado: all the mayhem swirling and roaring around, and you’re smack dab in the middle of it all thinking, “How nice…How serene and still.” No one watching would ever describe it that way. When you’re in the eye of the storm, though, it’s hard to look at things objectively.

“Kirby, you need to clean house. Get rid of everything. And call Jill.” It’s my one phone call from booking after I’ve been fingerprinted, photographed and processed.

“You want me to wake her up?”

“Yes! I’m on call and someone has to take the phones. Will you make sure Andy gets ready in time for the bus?”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

Of course I’m not okay! Why can’t you take care of me for a change?

I don’t expect him to say, “I love you.” He never has, but it would mean everything to me just now.

As I hang up, the desk sergeant calls my name. I can’t believe this is happening to me. I’m thirty-eight years old, and I’ve just been arrested for a felony: possession of meth with intent to distribute. I’m embarrassed. I want to tell the officers I’m different. I’m not like the other people in here. I’m educated, own a home and pay taxes. I’m a bail bondsman. I don’t belong here. I should get to go home.

A female guard takes me to a room and tells me to strip. This is the worst part for me. I’m completely humiliated. Standing naked in the cold room, ashamed of being on display in front of this woman, I’m sobbing. It’s the first time I’ve cried since the police pulled me over. Everything I’m facing, everything I’ve been through tonight, and this is what undoes me. With my stretch marks showing and thirty-eight-year-old breasts hanging unsupported, the guard tells me to turn around and bend over.  

to be continued…