Spam was served at lunch. That was the trigger. I announced you treat us like animals; I am going to my room. Everyone got silent. You do not want anyone to get in trouble. I saw the pleas behind their sincere eyes; I knew what they were saying. Stop. You will be chemically restrained: ham sandwich, booty juice, B52, Brutaine, Haldol, Ativan, Lorazepam, Benadryl, and Morphine in addition to at least ten days added to your stay. Shut up. Take what they tell you to take or never get out. I bumped into T.B. in the hallway as I was storming out.

T.B. is a mid to late twenties Latin male, 5′ 6″, 180 lbs. He had an episode attacking a family member while on his medication as prescribed. Repeat offender. Bi-polar, knowingly. He was a teddy bear; you could not picture him hurting anyone except when walking the hallway. He would reenact MMA fights. We made eye contact and stared at each other with blank faces until it became a contest. In all the commotion, someone accidentally knocked over the lunch cart, and no one knew who it was even though everyone was standing there laughing and pee was now on the floor. Everyone had to go to their rooms. From then on, T.B. and I had to stare contests, must be the total straight face, no emotions daily. Once one of us cracked, we would both burst out laughing.

or

He would switch. There would be only a fraction of a second, and he was in another world. He was lost, speaking random words repeatedly to his shoulder. In a trance.

One day, At the how am I going to be able to take this anymore point? I knew I needed to be physically exhausted. I have no idea where the idea of jumping jacks came to me. I hated them. This could be something outside the bounds of what was deemed acceptable. In this case, I would need a partner to cause havoc to avoid punishment. T.B. loved the idea. But where? We are not allowed in each other’s rooms. The others are in the T.V. room. The hallway was exposed to the orderlies.

We walked up and down the hallway. Contemplating. Yes, we were going to do it. There was a tiny locked bathroom next to *The Suite. Between the two was a small hallway. We could just stretch our arms across. I started first. We each barely managed five. He was the lookout, remaining straight-faced. Switch and repeat. I got to fifty; he topped at 75.

*The Suite is the punishment room. It contains leather straps and electricity machines.