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2 weeks later I was
supervising my peer group as mentor. Jonas - a new mule – had difficulties and during the day I had to use the whip on him several
times. Every lash hurt me as bad I think it hurt him, but he needed it. For
some reason he never touch vegetables and out of genuine concern about his
heath, his parents had sent him here.
Work was over and we
were on our way to the showers when suddenly the devil took him and he began to
run like hell towards an open gate. It was a kind of stupid because he still
had cuffs and the bit in his mouth. I was about to run after him, when a staff
member stopped me. “Let him run. Take care of the rest of your peer group and
we will get him with the car. It is a four-wheeled and the nearest house is
The staff-member was
of course right. Where should he go looking like that?
When the rest of my
peer group was eating I was in the car with the staff member looking for Jonas.
It did not take us long to spot him trying to hide down in the valley. We
drover to him and he gave himself up, but to make sure that his escape did not
inspire others, we had to make an example of him. So while I held him tight the
staff member removed the leather piece, which covered his genitals. I watched
his tears when the spiked ball stretcher was put on. Then he got the nipple
clamps with the bells and we put a leash on his harness. We drove slowly back
to the camp with Jonas on the leash. I looked out the windows and made the
staff member stop every time he fell. Then I got out and helped him on his feet
again. I must have done it 3 or 4 times before we reached the camp. He had
bruises all over his body where he had hit the ground. After he had been
presented in front of all the mules he as an example for the others, my peer
group cleaned him up as good as possible.
At group therapy he
tried to apologies to the group but we all meant that he didn’t sound truthful.
So we put him in the bedlam – a kind of casket which could be adjusted in
height so it was just his size. Inside there were straps for his legs, thighs,
waist, arms and head. He pleaded and sobbed while we were strapping him and
cried when we shut the lid. He had to lie in darkness until tomorrow when it
was time for group therapy, but every two hour a staff member would open a
small hatch in the casket and see to that he got something to drink. We could
hear him yelling from inside the casket when we left him.
It was kind of tragic.
He behaved like a wild animal which was caged for the first time. But in fact
it was not us who had decide to cage him. It was himself by his own actions.
Inside his mind he had the key to the casket and he did not know.
The next he was very
quiet when we took him out - too quiet. He had stools down his legs. He must
have suffered from the runs, when we put him in. He just sat in his chair
swaying from one side to another. I was a little worried and we got him cleaned
before we called a doctor. He soon knew what was wrong. “He is gone to a place
most people don’t come back from.”
I was sorry but Gonzarles comforted me “You can not win them all.
Everything you did, was by the book. You see, he will
come around. We have a sister facility down the road where they can use him.
They run a kind of business where they print out business letters, put them in
envelopes and send them. You know mail-merging etc. They can have him sitting
in a chair all day long with a hollow gag-ball in his mouth so his drooling will
make it easy for them to use him as a manual postage meter. He will be fine.”
So Jonas was shipped
off and Maggie came into our peer group instead. Thing seemed to go well, but
then it was time for me to leave. At the last group therapy session I appointed
Tina as the new mentor for the group. She had been here longer than me, but her
progress had been slower. However, she made it in the end and I was safe by
hand the group over to her.
A staff member would
drive me to the airport and Gonzarles met me at the
door. I had so many things to thank this man for. He pulled me out in the world
from my self-imposed prison of grief.
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