I always said, if I were ever homeless, I would want to live in Hawaii. I never could understand why there are homeless people in cold, high-crime cities like New York or Chicago. I would rather sleep on the streets and the park benches in beautiful Hawaii. After all, how bad would it be? The weather is perfect, not too hot and not too cold. There are plenty of wealthy tourists to panhandle from. And, best of all, I'd be close to the finest beaches in the world. What a great life it would be.

One warm afternoon, I was waiting in line at the local soup kitchen. Heat and hunger must have been too much since I found myself asleep on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, a police officer found me there as well and nudged me awake.

"Oh! Sorry officer. I didn't mean to fall asleep. I haven't had anything to eat in two days, and the sun was so warm, I guess I just fell asleep. Sorry."

"Mr. Castleberry, would you kindly come with me, please?"

"Mister who?"

"I have a warrant for your arrest."

"A warrant? For what?"

"Probation violation. Let's go Mr. Castleberry."

"Wait a minute. Excuse me. I'm not Mr. Cackleberry or whoever you said. You have the wrong guy."

"You can take that up with the judge."

As the other cop escorted me to the back of the cruiser, he read me the Miranda Rights.

I insisted they had the wrong guy. "My name is Joshua, Joshua Spriestersbach."

"Yeah right. And my name is Arnold Schwarzenegger."

"I'm not kidding."

"Look. Don't argue with us. You'll only make things worse for yourself. You don't have a driver's license or any form of ID. But you do match the description of the suspect. We know what we're doing. If you don't like it, you can take it up in court. Now be quiet."

When they took me out of the car, I really lost it. I was scared, angry, and I must have blown a fuse, screaming over and over, "My name's Joshua! LET ME GO! LET ME GO!"

I guess the judge thought I was insane because he had me committed to the Hawaii State Hospital. The more I insisted on who I was, the more reason they had to believe I was crazy. So much so that the doctors pumped me up with drugs. It got to the point where I thought I really did crack up.

After I had already spent more than two and a half years in the institution, they found the real Castleberry. He had been sitting in a prison cell in Seward, Alaska, all along. Alaska is a bit colder than Hawaii, but maybe I would've been better off there. Although, it didn't seem to do Mr. Castleberry much good.

Sometimes, especially in the middle of the night, I get to thinking – maybe I was asleep on the sidewalk all the while, and the whole thing was just a nightmare.

Story and Cover Illustration Copyright © 2021 by Michael DeFrancesco