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an’ let th’ fucker dig up inside my ass lookin’ for I don’t know what.  When the finger-fuckin’ was done, he told me to wipe my ass an’ get dressed.  I did.  Then I started cryin’.  Swear to God, I couldn’t help myself -- I just started blubberin’.
    Well, that made the fuckers laugh an’ sneer.  An’ this one motherfucker got down in my face an’ smiled an’ said, “You think you’re sorry now?  We’re gonna show you what sorry fuckin’ means, cocksucker.  We’re gonna teach you how to do time.”
    Then they took me way in the back an’ down this block of cells.  All of ‘em were packed with guys who looked like they could rip your heart out with their pinkies.  The place reeked of piss an’ sweat, like six-year-old laundry, an’ the prisoners whistled an’ called out to me as I was escorted past.  I was really gettin’ scared that I was gonna wind up in some cell with a dozen black guys an’ they’d spend the night beatin’ me up for bein’ white.  I had no idea what could really happen.  Then they stopped before this one that had two sets o’ bunk beds...an’ three gang-banger “Latinos.”
    One of the guards, this big fat ugly Mex named Martinez, shoved me in an’ slammed the gate shut.  Then he smiled an’ said, “Have fun,” an’ he an’ the other two guards walked away.
    Those motherfuckers knew what was gonna happen.  No question in my mind.  They did it to punish me an’ his last crack was to let the vatos know it was okay.  ‘Cause soon as they left the floor, my fuckin’ cell-mates were surroundin’ me, askin’ me questions like, “What you in for, ese?” an’ “You a maricon, pendejo?” an’ shit like that.  I couldn’t get away from ‘em.
    Now I wasn’t exactly a skinny-assed kid, back then.  I’d been half-back on the football team a couple years -- when things were lookin’ up for us, just after mom got married -- an’ I pumped a little iron, though nothin’ regular.  An’ I’d been in enough fights to know how to defend myself.  But that don’t mean shit when you’re faced with three guys who’ve had more fights in a month than you had all your life.
    I tried to stay calm, tell ‘em everything was cool, that I was down with their deal.  But they kept circlin’ me an’ yankin’ me by my chin to make me look at ‘em an’ goin’ chest to chest with me.  Then one grabbed my ass an’ said, “Hey, I bet you a faggot.”  I clipped him with my elbow an’ that’s th’ only real hit I got in.  They didn’t punch me, back; they didn’t need to.  They just took hold of my arms an’ legs an’ carried me over to a bunk bed.
     Next thing I knew, I was bein’ held face down on a lower bunk, one vato sittin’ on my back, another one on my legs.  I was yellin’ an’ callin’ for the guards, even though I knew they wouldn’t come, ‘specially since the rest of the floor was yellin’ along with me.  Then this one chunky asshole named Paco slapped me a few times an’ told me I was gonna suck them off, told me that’s all they wanted.  An’ he told me that if I bit any one of ‘em, they’d cut my balls off.  He showed me a shiv to prove he could do it.  Then he pulled out this thing that looked like an eyedropper an’ was about th’ same size as one till he yanked it to where it was hard, an’ put it up to my mouth.
    “C’mon, puta,” he whispered.  “Take it.  Do it right.”
    An’ I did.  I took it.  That’s how scared I was.  An’ I gagged as I did it, an’ not just because of what he was doin’ to me but also because he was so...fuckin’...dirty.  Stank of piss an’ shit an’ head cheese.  I choked on it as he shoved it in an’ out like he was fuckin’ my face.  An’ when he came, I almost blew chunks.  Then his buddies did the same thing to me, all of ‘em so fuckin’ much like Paco, I couldn’t tell ‘em apart.  Then they called me a fuckin’ puta, slapped me around a