On 4 November, Osho is transported to Oklahoma County Jail.

The government attorney, U.S. attorney, insisted that my question of bail will be decided in Oregon. That seems absurd, if six persons with me have been arrested here and their bail can be arranged here, then why particularly me?

But the strange thing was that every time I would get out of the airplane and sit in the police car, the man who was taking me, delivering me to the hands of the U.S. marshal, would whisper in his ear--and I was sitting just behind him, I could hear it--"This man is dangerous, so don't do anything directly. Don't even touch his body because the whole world is watching, and once he is out he is going to expose everything that happens in these jails. So be polite and be intelligent in behaving with him; don't treat him as a criminal."

That message was continually given each time I was changed from one jail to another jail. They did not touch my body; they did not do anything directly. They tried indirectly to do things, in which they failed.

For example, I reached one jail nearabout eleven in the night, and the U.S. marshal wanted me not to write my name on the form--he told me that I should write the name "David Washington."

I asked, "Under what law or constitution can you prevent me from writing my name and force me to write some name which is not mine? I will not write it. And you are supposed to be a law enforcement agency. On your coat there is written Department of Justice--but what kind of justice is this? In the middle of the night, I am tired...the whole day's journey, and you want me to write somebody else's name? You will have to give me an explanation."

He said, "I don't know any explanation. Don't be angry with me--I am just following directions from high above."

I said, "Then tell those people, whoever is giving you directions, that I am not going to write `David Washington.' If you want to write, you can fill in the form with `David Washington' and everything, and I will sign."

He said, "That seems to be a perfect compromise...because I also want to go to sleep. Unless you sign this form you cannot enter the cell and go to sleep." So he filled in the form in his own handwriting, and I signed with my own signature. He looked at my signature and asked, "What does it mean?"

I said, "It must mean `David Washington'--isn't that my name?"

He said, "I cannot understand what you have written."

I said, "I write in my own language: this is `David Washington.'" And I told him, "Tomorrow morning you will see on television your handwriting, my signature, and the idea behind it...in all the news media. Why do you want to hide my name? So you can even kill me, and there will be no trace--because I never entered the jail. David Washington you can release tomorrow; just the form has to be signed. But remember, you will not be able to copy my signature."

He asked, "But what makes you certain that the news media will know about it?"

I said, "You will see in the morning."

In the police car with me was a woman. She seemed to be a jailbird, very experienced. She told me that she was going to be released from the jail.

The idea was that if I write David Washington and sign David Washington, I can be killed, poisoned, shot and there will be no proof that I ever entered the jail. I was brought from the back door of the airport, I entered the jail also from the back door, in the middle of the night so that nobody can be ever aware--and only the U.S. Marshal was present in the office, nobody else.

He took me to the cell and told me to take one of the mattresses, utterly dirty, full of cockroaches. I said to him, "I am not a prisoner. You should behave a little more humanly. And I will need a blanket and a pillow."

And he simply refused: "No blanket, no pillow. This is all you will get." And he locked the door of that small, dirty cabin.

Strangely enough, in the early morning at five o'clock he opened the door and he was a completely changed man. I could not believe my eyes, because he had brought a new mattress, a blanket, a pillow. I said, "But in the night you were behaving in such a primitive way. Suddenly you have become so civilized."

And he offered me breakfast early in the morning--five o'clock. In no other jail I was offered breakfast before nine o'clock. I said, "It is too early--and why are you paying so much attention?"

But he said, "You have to eat it quick, because within five minutes we have to leave for the airport."

I said, "Then what is the purpose of the mattress and the blanket and the pillow?"

The next morning the marshal came, hitting his head. He said, "What have you done? It is all in the papers, it is on the television! Now get ready; we have to move you from this jail. We cannot keep you here."

I said, "I love being here. There is no need to change. What is the point of changing? As long as you want, David Washington is willing to live here."

He said, "Don't make a joke of me. I am already condemned for forcing you to sign under a false name. But I am wondering, how did you manage to reach the media?"

I said, "You had completely forgotten that we were two prisoners and the other prisoner was sitting in the corner listening to the whole conversation. She repeated everything word for word."