The deputy propped a box on her knee while she unlocked the door. We were in the Loop, the starting part of the Orange County jail system- where everyone gets sorted. Some are found to be completely innocent, some are victims of domestic abuse, some are repeat offenders of various crimes.
It's anyone's guess why anyone is in there, but the officer enters the room as if we're rabid animals- baton first, swinging back and forth in a warning half circle. She tosses the contents of the box in, shouting "Stay back" on repeat, as if anyone in the room had moved.
Once the door is closed, the deputy kicks it, shouting "Goddamn animals." as she and her fellow badges laugh.
We all reach for the bags, the first food I've seen in 12 hours, and the girl who had been telling me about the process (like a jailbird tour guide) explains that we call them sack nasties, reminding me that the food inside is barely fit for animals. Eat with caution.
Dave already told me I didn't have to eat what they fed me. He would find a way. He told me I didn't have to believe the names they called me. He would find reminders of my real name. He said I didn't have to let the outside in, my insides were complete enough without this adventure.
I try to ask the deputy if the bologna-looking substance inside is beef. "For religious reasons," I explain through the plexi glass, "I don't eat beef." She tells me I'll be naked and cuffed in with the crazies if I keep talking.
I decide I can skip a meal, and give the food to my tour guide. Left with the bag, I start to fold it into a flower.
"I've never seen someone turn a Sack Nasty into something cute." says an older woman in the corner who hadn't spoken a word in the hours we've shared a cement bench.
"Stick around," my tour guide chirps. "Her name is Rara, and I gotta feeling this is only the beginning."
[Many thanks to Erik for helping me with the bag illustration, and allowing me to continue make something cute out of those wretched bags.]