091402

 In an old backup titled "muh book" from 2002 I have these text files.     

chapter 1 

Here is the letter I sent to Mr Mouhon at Big Spring State Hospital, verbatim:

here is a letter i sent to the superintendant of Big Spring State Hospital, where i placed myself to get out of jail.  i spent my time wisely in jail and learned how to write with my left hand.  i copied it in a text file when i got back home, read on:


Mr. Mouhon,
     Woody Jumper contacted me some time ago and gave me confirmation that you had receieved my last note.  Woody let me know that the possibility of a meeting between you and I did, in fact, exist.  He told me he would try to arrange it, but i doubt he has put any priority on my request.
     It would only be fair that I make you aware of the happenings that brought me to your hospital/country-club.
     My journey began in San Antonio, my hometown.  I rented a Uhaul truck, moved all my big furniture to my mother's and was able to fit the rest of my belongings(my entire wardrobe, a school-desk, etc.) into the truck.  I even bought eighty dollars worth of supplies at the army-surplus store.
     I was then independently-mobile and ready for virtually anything.
My destination was the west coast(I will elaborate on my goals once we meet).  Stupid me, I missed the turn for interstate 10, so i jumped on the next west-bound highway i came across.  Good 'ol I-90.  I drove through Uvalde, Del Rio, Sanderson and I stopped in Marathon.
     As I passed The Marathon Coffee Shop I noticed there was a sign advertising internet-access.  I always need to check my email, so I turned around and parked in front of the shop.  When I walked up to entrance, I saw that the 'closed' sign was displayed. It was Tuesday afternoon and I felt it strange for such an establishment to be closed. I then noticed the front bay-windows.  They were all wide-open, so I thought someone might be there.  I knocked loudly on the front door and yelled inside with no answer.  I peered inside and saw two brand-new Macinstosh computers sitting on a table near the open windows.  I thought, "Damn, anyone can just walk in this shop and just take everything.  I have to leave this place a note or something."                                                                                                                       I easily stepped inside and took the helm at one of the computers.  I am not too familiar with Macs, so it took me a while to find a program I could type into.  I opened up a blank email form and started typing my message.  I warned them that not everyone who walked into a closed business , like I had, would leave all the valuables alone, as I had.   
     What better way to convey my message than to have the owner walk into his shop in the morning and find a note typed up on his computer by some random intruder?
     I know I could have left a paper-note pinned to his door instead, but that would not have had nearly the same effect.  The owner might have disregarded such a casual warning, thinking he could trust his community, but hey, an interstate highway ran through this community.
     I was just about done typing my message when I heard someone enter from the back of the building.  It was the owner, Kelly. Apparently, someone driving by had seen me at the computer and had called him.
     Upon entering, Kelly was upset and reaffirmed that his business was closed.  I told him that if his business had been securely closed I could not have even gotten in and that if he would read the note I had just typed up that all questions would be answered, but he refused.  I was very respectful and apologized for just entering, but also pointed out that due to his negligence he was at risk of taking a huge loss.
     After a short while Kelly seemed to calm down.  We were having a nice conversation and stepped outside so I could smoke a cigarette.  When I had finished with my cigarette I told Kelly  that I should be on my way and proceeded to leave.  Kelly asked me if I minded waiting for a friend of his to arrive.  I said, "No, not at all Kelly, but level with me man, is your friend a police-officer?"  Kelly said yes and I let him know that I did not mind because I had done nothing wrong.
     We remained outside talking for about half an hour, waiting for his officer-friend.  Kelly had become very amiable and it seemed like I had made a new friend.  Little did I know.
     Officer Cody Jones, a young deputy of the Brewster County Sherrif's Department pulled up and walked up to me.  He asked me if I had any warrants out for my arrest.  I let him know that I was 24 and had a clear record and that I had never had any trouble with the law.
     Officer Jones instructed me to turn around, spread my arms and legs and he patted me down.  He then had me place my hands behind my back and hand-cuffed me.  Officer Jones then asked Kelly if he wanted to press charges and Kelly nodded yes.  I was then made to sit in the passenger seat of his police-truck.
     We drove to Brewster County Jail in Alpine where I was booked.  Jail was a breeze.  I did not allow being locked up to bring me down, I just changed the way I looked at it.  The way I saw it, I had a roof over my head, food in my stomach, and someone else was paying for it all.  This was what criminals got?  A life free of responsibility?  Hell, I even had cable television in my cell.
     I'm not going to lie, jail did eventually get to me.  The staff treated me like a criminal, not even giving me the minimal respect I deserved as a human being.  I had been placed in a cell with three other mates, but after the second day, the others began to resent my care-free attitude.  I then asked the staff if I could be kept in a solitary cell.  They found my request to be quite peculiar but granted it after a day, when a cell became available.  The solitary cell was great.  It was like I had my own apartment.  I had an abundance of privacy and plenty of time to think.
     As well as I had placed myself, I could still feel depression crawling closer.  I was still, after all, in jail for doing good.  I began to meditate in my cell and devised a clever plan to get out of jail.   
     Any time I had any request for the staff, like for example, to get me a cup of water, they would tell me, "sure, in a minute" and then not get it for me at all.  It was like they took pleasure in this and it made me mad. They had the same attitude for any request I made.  But I noticed the only thing they put any importance on was inmate's mental-condition.  Certain staff came up to on numerous occasions to see if I was suicidal or not.
     Ahh-ha, I figured out how I could get loads of attention.  I would just pretend to turn suicidal.  I lightly banged my head on the cell-door.  At the same time my head hit the metal door, I struck it hard with the palm of my hand, so it would make a big bang.  I then made some loud groaning noises and quickly laid on the floor.
     I had mentioned to the staff that I had sustained two closed head-injuries in the past and had acquired a minor, random tremor in my right side.  As I lay there with my eyes closed, pretending to be unconscious, I violently shook my right arm and leg, only to make my "attempt" more believable.
     As I suspected, staff rushed to my cell and crowded around me.  They shook me and I pretended to regain consciousness. I held my head and complained of a bad headache.  I had only hit my head hard enough to give me a small, visible bump.  I played it off great though.
     The concerned staff told me that someone from MHMR(Mental Health, Mental Retardation Association) was on their way over.  About twenty minutes later, this lady showed up and I was taken to a room to speak with her.  I rubbed my eyes really hard, to make them red and watery.  She asked me a lot of questions and I told her, "sobbing",  if I was to remain in jail that I would continue to try and kill myself.  She assured me that there was nothing she could do to get me out of jail, but I knew better.
Shorltly after, I was allowed to change into my civvies and taken to a desk where they had put my wallet and other personal belongings.  A policeman was called, as well as a staff-member whom I had befriended in jail, and they transported me to the local hospital in Alpine.  I underwent a CAT-Scan which showed my head had not been damaged at all, which I knew all along.
     They told me they were going to drive me up to Big Spring to a hospital there. I asked, "What's in Big Spring that the hospital here cannot provide?"  They ignored the question, neglecting to tell me it was a psychiatric-hospital(which I also knew all along).
     Mission accomplished, I got myself out of jail. It was a cinch.  I never knew I was such a good actor. I did a great job of manipulating my situation.  No?
     Ahhh, Big Spring State Hospital is a paradise compared to jail.  All my basic needs are being met lavishly at this "country-club".  I am even permitted to smoke cigarettes every hour on our "fresh-air" breaks.
     Well Mr. Mouhon, this basically summarizes my story. I am sure you have some questions for me.  I would be delighted to answer any you might have. I also have much to show you.  My "vacation" at your hospital has been a great learning experience for me and I feel like I will leave your hospital a smarter man.  Thank you.
     I feel like my presence here has helped many of the other patients also.  For example, the first day I got here I started working on a jigsaw puzzle I found in a dusty box.  It brought everyone together.  Both patients and staff contributed to the completion of the puzzle.
     Please accept our meeting, Mr. Mouhon.  Any delay would just show me where all the ignorance I have come across in our hospital stems from.

- Victor

P.S.  I apologize for any typos and the poor penmanship.  Due to my head-injuries, I am trying to learn to write with my non-dominant hand and become ambidextrous.  What do you think?