"You back up!" I snapped back. Out of the comer of my eye, I could see two male cops coming up on my right. Here goes "assault on a police officer," I thought. I hauled off and socked Officer Janofsky in the face. The next thing I knew, I was flat on the pavement, my wrists handcuffed behind me, the right side of my face being ground into the concrete. Some cop had his knee in the middle of my back. I could hardly breathe, and for a moment I worried he'd crush my rib cage. It hurt like hell, but I couldn't even get out a "guff" of protest. I'd been effectively incapacitated, not in pain, but certainly penitent. Having made his point, the guy got up. I stayed where I was, reluctant to risk a crack in the head with a nightstick. As an addendum to my discomfort, the drizzle was suddenly upgraded to a dainty pitter-patter. I groaned involuntarily. I heard Bibianna shriek, a sound more related to outrage than pain. I inched up my head in time to see her kick Janofsky in the kneecap. The officer's adrenaline was already up and I was afraid she'd go after Bibianna with the flashlight. She grabbed her by the throat, trying to get a choke hold. One of Janofsky's fellow officers intervened at that point, which was fortunate. I laid my cheek down against the pavement, waiting for the melodrama to play itself out. The raindrops, as they hit the sidewalk, rebounded in my face. I stared at the tiny pebbles embedded in the concrete, using auditory cues to re-create the activities taking place around me. It was like listening to a sporting event on the radio. I grew weary trying to visualize the play as it progressed. Drops of water began to slide down the side of my face, collecting on the pavement in a shallow pool near my cheek. I felt like one of those protesters whose pictures you see in the paper. I craned my head around, resting my chin on the walk.

"Uh, excuse me," I said. "Hey!" It was a strain to try to hold my head in that position, so I laid it down again. Several pairs of regulation cop shoes appeared in my line of vision. I hoped none of them belonged to Lieutenant Dolan. Somebody gave an order. Suddenly, there was an officer on either side of me. I felt myself hooked under the armpits and I was lifted to my feet, levitating into an upright position effortlessly. After a quick pat-down, I was hustled off to a squad car and shoved into the backseat. The door was slammed shut.