The Executioner's Song (41 page)

Gilmore sure kept trying. A little later, he wanted to get ahold of his attorney. Said he was going to sue the jail for not giving attention to his hand. He was really in sympathy with himself over that hand.

After it all failed, Gary said, “I know Utah County is poor in spirit, and full of hard feelings toward me, but Sheriff, you can let me go home now. I’m not mad anymore.”

That was a pretty good sense of humor, Cahoon decided.

It made it easier for him to put up with Gilmore decorating the walls. Cahoon liked to eliminate any drawing of obscenity pictures but Gary was not doing that. Pictures he drew were nice pictures. They were also something you could erase. One day he’d do a draw ing, and next day wipe it out, do another, so Cahoon never made an issue of it.

They really got along all right until Gilmore learned that they wouldn’t allow him to see Nicole on visits. It seemed she wasn’t fam ily. That left Gary not speaking to anybody.

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About the second time that Brenda went down to the jail, which on Sunday, a week and a half after his arrest, Nicole had also up. When Gary heard she was outside, the expression on his Brenda had to admit, was beautiful. “Oh, God,” he said, “she ised to come back and she did.”

However, he explained, it didn’t meav he could visit with She wasn’t allowed on his list just yet. Brenda said, “Let me see I can do.” She went up to a big tough Indian guard at the door, fident-looking fellow, and said, “Alex, could you put Nicole Barrett for the last five minutes of my time? …. Well, now,” he said, really shouldn’t break the rules.” “Bullshit,” said Brenda, “what’s difference ff it’s me or Nicole? He ain’t going to go nowhere! Alex Hunt, you mean to tell me,” she asked, “you can’t take this poor man with a busted-up hand? What’s he going to do one hand? Tear you apart?” “Well,” said Alex, “I think we can Gilmoreo”

While Nicole was visiting, Brenda walked over to Nicole’s in-law, who had also come. It was hot that day, and Sue Baker holding her newborn baby and perspiring in volumes, “How is doing?” asked Brenda.

The sun didn’t stir on the black cinder gravel back of the jail. “She’s pretty broke up,” said Sue.

Brenda said, “Gary’s not going to get out of this one. If gets all hung up, it’s going to ruin her.”

“She won’t quit,” said Sue, “we already tried.”

“Well,” said Brenda, “she’s in for a lot of hurt.”

When Nicole came out, she was weeping. Brenda put her around her and said, “Nicole, we both love him.”

Then Brenda said: “Nicole, why don’t you think a little about ing up the ship? Gary is never going to get out. You’ll spend of your life visiting this guy. That’s all the future you’re have.” Now Brenda began to cry. “Tuck those beautiful memories your heart,” she said, “tuck them away.”

Nicole muttered, “I’ll stick.”

AN ACT OF CONTRITION

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She was feeling an animosity toward Brenda she didn’t even un derstand. Nicole heard herself thinking, “As if I owe her a million dollars for giving me five minutes of her visiting time.”

There was a Preliminary Hearing on August 3 in Provo and Noah Wootton was determined to ram it through as hard and fast as he could. He had a lot of witnesses so his problem was to keep the case intact. When the defense asked for delay, Wootton objected.

He was reasonably confident of the conviction, or to put it more precisely, he was confident that ff he did not get a conviction, it would be his own fault. He was, however, not at all sure of getting the death penalty. So he was feeling the usual tension he had before a case began. His stomach was right with him that morning.

At the Preliminary Hearing, Gilmore didn’t take the stand, but Wootton did talk face to face with him in the recess. They got on well. They even joked. Wootton was impressed with his intelligence. Gilmore told Wootton that the prison system was not doing what it was designed to achieve, that is, rehabilitate. In his opinion, it was a complete failure.

Of course, they avoided talking about the crimes themselves, but Noall did detect that Gilmore was doing his best to soften him up. Gary certainly kept flattering him about what a fair and efficient pros ecutor he was, what a basic sense of fairness he had, Said he’d never seen another prosecutor with that kind of fairness.

Not every con knew enough to run that line. Wootton expected Gilmore was working up to a deal. He must have heard they were going for the death penalty, and thought if he was nice enough, Wootton might feel encouraged to return from so far out a stand, far out at least from the defendant’s point of view.

Sure enough, Gilmore got around to asking what Wootton thought would happen, Noah looked him in the eye and said, “They

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might come back with the death penalty.” Gilmore said, “I know, what are they really going to do?” Wootton repeated, “They might ecute you.” He had the impression that took Gilmore aback.

Snyder also approached Noall, and suggested they plead guilty Murder One, and accept a life top. Wootton kind of dismissed it. way,” he said.

He had made up his mind to go for Death after looking at more’s record. It showed violence in prison, a history of escape, unsuccessful efforts made at rehabilitation. Wootton could clude that, one: Gilmore would be looking to escape; two: he be a hazard to other inmates and guards; and, three: was hopeless. Couple this to a damned cold-blooded set of crimes.

Nicole drove down to the Preliminary Hearing in Provo on Au but they let her visit with Gary for only a moment. It made her to see him in leg shackles. Then they only gave her time for and a tremendous kiss before pulling him away. She was left hall of the court with the world rocketing around her. Outside, in summer light, the horseflies were mean as insanity itself.

On the drive back to Springville, she was dreaming

in a wreck. Nobody was hurt but the car. After that, all the home, her Mustang sounded like it was breaking up in pain. couldn’t shift out of second.

It became a crazy trip. She kept having an urge to cross divider, and bang into oncoming traffic. Next day, when the came, there was a very long letter from Gary that he had be write as soon as they took him back to jail from the hearing. So realized he had been saying these words to her at the same time had been driving along with the urge to smash into every car the other way.

Now she read Gary’s letter over and over. She must have five times and the words went in and out of her head like a blowing off the top of the world.

August 3 Nothing in my experience, prepared me for the kind of honest open love you gave me. I’m so used to bullshit and hostility, deceit and pettiness, evil and hatred. Those things are my natural habitat. They have shaped me. I look at the world through eyes that suspect, doubt, fear, hate, cheat, mock, are selfish and vain. All things unacceptable, I see them as natural and have even come to accept them as such. I look around the ugly vile cell and know that I truly belong in a place this dank and dirty, for where else should I be? There’s water all over the floor from the fucking toilet that don’t flush right. The shower is filthy and the thin mattress they gave me is almost black, it’s so old. I have no pillow. There are dead cockroaches in the corners. At nite them are mosquitoes and the lite is very dim. I’m alone here with my thoughts and I can feel the oldness. Remember I told you about The Oldness? and you told me how ugly it was — the oldness, the oldness. I can hear the tumbrel wheels creek. So fucking ugly and coming so close to me. When I was a child … I had a nightmare about being beheaded. But it was more than just a dream. More like a memory. It brought me right out of the bed. And it was sort of a turning point in my life …. Recently it has begun to make a little sense. I owe a debt, from a long time ago. Nicole, this must depress you. I’ve never told anybody of this thing, except my mother the nite I had that nitemare and she came in to comfort me but we never spoke of it after that. And I started to tell you one nite and I told you quite a bit of it before it became plain to me that you didn’t want to hear it. There have been years when I haven’t even thought much of it at all and then something (a picture of a guillotine, a headmans block; or a broad ax; or even a rope) will bring it all back and for days it will seem I’m on the verge of knowing something very personal, something about myself. Something that somehow wasn’t completed and makes me different. Something I owe, I guess. Wish I knew.

Once you asked me if I was the devil, remember? I’m not. The devil would be far more clever than I, would operate on a much larger scale and of course would feel no remorse. So I’m not Beelzebub. And I know the devil can’t feel love. But I might be further from God than I am from the devil. Which is not a good thing. It seems that I know evil more intimately than I know goodness and that’s not a good thing either. I want to get even, to be made even, whole, my debts paid (whatever it may take!) to have no blemish, no reason to feel

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guilt or fear. I hope this ain’t corny, but I’d like to stand in the s of God. To know that I’m just and right and clean. When you’ke way you know it. And when you’re not, you know that too. It’s all side of us, each of us —but I guess I ran from it and when I did to approach it, I went about it wrong, became discouraged, lazy, and Jnally unacceptable. But what do I do now? I don’t Hang myself?

I’ve thought about that for years, I may do that. Hope that state executes me? That’s more acceptable and easier than

But they haven’t executed anybody here since z963 (just about t last year for legal executions anywhere). What do I do, rot in growing old and bitter and eventually work this around in my to where it reads that I’m the one who’s getting fucked around, I’m just an innocent victim of society’s bullshit? What do I do? a life in prison searching for the God I’ve wanted to know for long time? Resume my painting? Write poetry? Play handball? my heart out for the wondrous love you gave me that I threw Monday nite because I was so spoiled and couldn’t immediately a white pickup truck I wanted? What do I do? We always choice, don’t we?

I’m not asking you to answer these questions for me, please don’t think that I am. I have to make my own choice. But thing you want to comment on or suggest, or say, is always

God, I love you, Nicole.

The Shadows the Dream

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KIN TO THE MAGICIAN

Shortly after Gary got out of Marion, and was living in Provo with Vern and Ida, he sent Bessie an eleven-pound box of chocolates for Mother’s Day. Then, a letter arrived. “I didn’t know I could be this happy. I have the most beautiful girl in Utah. Morn, I’m making more money than I could take in stealing.”

Bessie wrote back, “This is what I always wanted for you. I’m glad you have this girl. I hope someday to meet your beautiful Nicole.”

Then she didn’t hear any more, and phoned Ida, who told her Gary had gotten in a little trouble by walking out of a store with a few thhngs. Bessie asked Ida to tell him to call, and began to worry. Gary never got in touch when he was in trouble.

The day she found out about the murders, she had been out on the porch of her trailer taking the sun. Her phone rang and it was a Woman. Quick as she heard the tone of voice, Bess said, “It’s you, Brenda. Something’s happened to Gary.” She thought he had robbed a bank.

Brenda told her they were holding Gary On Murder One. “I don’t believe that, Brenda. Gary wouldn’t kill anybody.” “Oh, yes,” said l]renda, “he killed two people and shot one of his thumbs off.” That Was how Bessie got it.

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She said, “Well, there has to be a mistake. Gary did not do No matter what else, he is not a killer.” She hung up, and the rang again, and it was Ida to tell her that the blood kept spurting of Mr. Bushnell and she and Vern had seen it. Bess felt she never get over that description. Then Veto got on the phone “They have a death penalty here. They’re going to kill Gary.” It all Bess could take. Execution had always been a phobia to her. couldn’t go near the thought. When she was a little girl growing in Utah, she would hide ff she heard they were having an tion.

After Vern’s message, she kept the news to herself. She Frank Jr., when he came into town, but not Mikal, her youngest One morning he called, and said, You sound like you’ve been and Bess said, I have a cold. He said, I’m going to come out spend the day with you. She said, You read about Gary, and he Yes, he had heard about it.

She kept thinking of the time in the fall of ‘72 when they Gary out of OSP to study in art school. He was going to live halfway house up at Eugene, and be given furloughs. The first fight out, Gary dropped in on Bess for the afternoon, and spent evening. The next morning he went to the store to get e fast, and asked her ff it was all fight to bring back a six-pack. said sure. So he sat there and talked through the morning drinking the beer. They felt very close. She fixed his breakfast said, “That’s the first time we spent the night under the same a long time, Gary.” He said, “Sure is.” In fact, it was close to years. He drank his beer and said he had to leave. Had to get to art school in Eugene.

After he was gone, she remembered that last time ten years in 1962 when they had been alone together. She and Gary Johnny Cash fans, and so he brought all his records down from stairs and they listened all day long. Now the records made her sad, and she would turn off the r,adio when a song by Johnny

C alTle on.

A few nights later in that same fall of ‘72, Gary pulled in