STEVIE: Well, I don’t know.
JERRY: You kill someone, someone kills you. Come on.
Has justice run away and joined the circus?
STEVIE: I couldn’t say. I don’t know. Maybe so.
JERRY: Do you call life in prison “punishment”?
STEVIE: I’d never actually touch your daughter, Jerry.
JERRY: You’d better kill ’em: Send ’em all to Hell,
If Hell awaits them, and be done with it.
…Here come the preacher man. O, looky here.
I’d like to thump this guy. If I was bigger,
Man, I’d grab his legs and bounce him on
His head until his children’s crying stopped me.
Good afternoon, good—Huh-uh, man. No way
I let you in with liquor on your breath.
BILL JENKS [having entered]: You have liquor on your breath, I think.
JERRY: A lunchtime margarita don’t equate
To waltzing in here zigzag stinkin’, partner.
You’d like a little coffee.
STEVIE: I tossed the coffee.
JERRY: She tossed the coffee. Bubble us up some more.
STEVIE: Maybe for later, you mean?—Right now it’s almost—
JERRY:—Haven’t got the time. The hour is nigh.
You’ve made the acquaintance of the son?—I think
The word I’m looking for is “colorful.”
You’ll pale beside him, pardner. Alley-oop.
This way. We’re at our maximum
Or we’d have half Ukiah, California,
Squooching their butts down in the seats. Ukiah.
That’d be Indian for “cracker.” Maybe “Okie.”
My people generate from Tennessee,
Just like Elvis Presley and Davy Crockett.
BILL JENKS: Elvis generates from Mississippi.
JERRY: Elvis came from Memphis, Tennessee.
BILL JENKS: He was born in Tupelo, Mississippi.
JERRY: Jesus Christ was born in Israel,
But that don’t mean he ain’t American.
STEVIE: I’m not sure we have the time for this.
JERRY: Stevie, how long is the woman going to be dead?
…Go on and round ’em up. We’ll be along.
[STEVIE exits.]
—Enough. Will you at least concede that Elvis
Presley was a son of Tennessee?
BILL JENKS: I so concede.
JERRY: All right, enough dispute,
All right—my daughter gave me this, no sense
Offending her bounty. Silver-plated. Cheers!
Go on, raise you a toast to Mississippi.
BILL JENKS: Mostly I’ve lived my life in California.
JERRY [as they move]: O, well, I’ve never been to California.
Right this way—look down, these sonabitchin’
Paparazzi will fill your eyes with moons—
I mean, I might get out there, maybe for
A ball game on the order of the Series
Or a playoff, if Texas could field a decent team,
But all we have is the Rangers and the Astros.
[They enter the Witness Room, joining JOHN (still costumed as a clown) and STEVIE.]
What are you supposed to be? A clown?
JOHN: We’re here to raise my mother from the dead.
JERRY: Ukiah, that’d be Indian for “Him
Who Picks His Nose and Eats It.”
JOHN: Who’s this guy?
JERRY: The PIO.
STEVIE: A son, here: this is John.
JOHN: The PIO?
STEVIE: You know the Reverend.
JOHN: The PIO?
JERRY: I think we need this man
Struck from the list.
JOHN: The pee-eye-eeh-eye-oh?
STEVIE: The Texas Department of Criminal Justice’s public information officer.
JERRY [to JOHN]: You’re the one who parked his big old cross
Down there out front. I’m gonna have it towed.
JERRY has pushed a buzzer. The curtain opens on the death chamber.
BESS CASSANDRA lies tied down on the gurney, the head of which cranks up to make her visible; WILL BLAINE in attendance.
BESS: Who put me here? I didn’t do anything!
Jesus God! I didn’t do anything!
WHY DO I HAVE TO DIE? WHAT DID I DO?
JERRY: Will—now, haven’t we got her tranked?
WILL: She’s tranked.
BESS: They said I’d die, and then come back to life.
BILL JENKS: Who told you that? Who told you, Ms. Cassandra?
BESS: I don’t know. I heard it in a dream.
I don’t know who was talking in that dream.
BILL JENKS: I’m Reverend—
BESS: Shit. I have no need of Jesus.
I’m paying for my own goddamn sins.
BILL JENKS: Ms. Cassandra? May I call you Bess?
BESS: Sure, please do. Who else is in the room?
JOHN: Hi, Mom—Hi, Mom—remember me?
BESS: O, sure.
You kind of look familiar. Is that John?
JOHN: Hi, Mom.
BESS: You got real big.
JOHN: I know.
Mom, we’re here to raise you from the dead.
JERRY: Cut the mic, please…Fellas, listen up:
Reverend, how did you get on the list?
This woman doesn’t know you.
JOHN: She’s my mom,
And he’s the family’s spiritual counselor.
JERRY: Across that chamber in the other room
I’ve got the Reuters, UPI, AP, the Huntsville
Courier; down in that baking street
I’ve got the TV news and video from France
And Germany and every goddamn place,
And I’m not gonna have an incident
For these assholes to be reporting. Clear?
…Go on now, give us back the audio.
BESS: Hello? Hello? That was a little scary.
…John, are you the only of my children
To make the trip?
JOHN: I guess I am.
BESS: OK.
I wasn’t expecting trumpets and a crowd.
JOHN: I think they harbor some resentment due
To certain things that ruined their childhood, Mom.
BESS: John, I always thought you were retarded.
JOHN: I’m not retarded. I just had big teeth.
They made me talk real slow. But now I’m grown—
Grown up—and so…
BESS: You’ve grown into your teeth.
…Where’d the Reverend Preacher go?
JOHN: He’s praying in the corner, Ma. We’ve come
To raise you up when they pronounce you dead,
Because we know you didn’t hurt Jane Doe.
We know you’re innocent.
BESS: I’m not so sure.
I know I’m guilty of vehicular
Infanticide, because I do remember
Squashing little Amy with the car.
…Amy. What do you think she’d look like now?
JOHN: Amy? Amy would resemble rotten bones.
JERRY: Folks, we’re looking at just a couple minutes.
BESS: You children bothered me, I don’t know why.
I’d start off every morning with the notes
Of music in my heart, and I was young,
But minute by minute my mind would get all red,
And photographs in magazines would make me cry,
Until my life was squeezing all my blood—
Now, isn’t that peculiar, don’t you think?
And here the little children all around.
I should have killed you all while you were sleeping.
I guess I didn’t really think things through.
I don’t know why I thought I had to use
The car. Do you believe in demons? Well,
Nothing in this world can take away
> The deeds I’ve done. They don’t belong to demons.
I won’t give my crimes to Satan.
I’m keeping my crimes for me.
JERRY: It’s six p.m.
STEVIE: May God have mercy on you.
JERRY: I’ll just read the order of execution.
BILL JENKS: The order? Isn’t that the warden’s function?
JERRY: The warden’s water-skiing off Honduras.
Or else he’s scuba diving off Belize.
Vacationing, in other words. It falls to me
To read the order of execution. Stevie,
Will you please read the order of execution?
STEVIE: Isabel Cassandra, formerly
Residing in Odessa, Texas:
Having been convicted of the charge
Of murder perpetrated in the course
Of aggravated sexual assault
Upon Jane Doe (name and address unknown),
Be informed that the Sovereign State of Texas
Undertakes to execute the sentence
Imposed July 19, 2001; to wit:
That you shall be confined until this day,
Maintained in health, granted communication
With family, legal counsel, and the press,
And then, upon this day, at such an hour
As suits the warden, you shall be called forth
And taken to a place prepared for such
Administrations as shall have the swift
Result of death to you; and therein put to death.
JERRY: May God have mercy on you, Bess Cassandra.
WILL lowers the head of the gurney; BESS lies prone.
JOHN: Mom, are you prepared?
BESS: What part of me
Can be prepared? I can’t talk to this part
Or that part, I can’t say, “Get ready, arms
And legs, get ready, guts and lungs and liver—”
Can’t even cross my hands over my chest.
…Well, thanks for coming by to say goodbye.
JOHN: Woman, if I could say goodbye to you
I would’ve said it thirty years ago.
JERRY [low, to BJ]: The sodium thiopental’s going in.
BESS: John?
JOHN: Mom, Mom…
BESS: Why are you dressed like a clown?
JOHN: There’s reasons for it, Mom.
JERRY: She doesn’t hear.
JOHN: It’s something I’ve got going.
STEVIE: She can’t hear you.
JERRY [low, to BJ]: Next pancurium bromide will collapse
The lungs and diaphragm. And finally
Potassium chloride stops the heart.
BILL JENKS: How long?
JERRY: Seven minutes from the start to finish.
JOHN:…Seems like seven minutes are almost up.
BESS:…Am I supposed to be dead? When do I die?
…I still don’t think I’m dead. I think—O, hey,
My I-V thing popped out. It did. It’s out.
Your poison’s spilt all over.
WILL’S VOICE: I-V team!
Get your unit reestablished, please.
Never mind. Stand down. I’ll reconnect.
BESS: Will it hurt—uh—will it hurt the mattress?
The curtain closes across the window.
BILL JENKS: Mr. PIO. What’s going on?
JERRY: Will? We gonna have to clear the site?
WILL’S VOICE: Negative. Sixty seconds.
JERRY: All right. Stevie—go and see about the boys.
Who’s over there?—it’s Blake for UPI,
I think, and damn it, damn it all to Hell—
STEVIE: I’ll see if we can’t close the lid.
JERRY: O, yeah.
Another perfect termination. Thanks.
I owe you, Steve.
STEVIE: You do. You’ll pay me, too,
Tonight at Mursky’s.
JERRY: Drinks are all on me.
STEVIE exits.
JOHN: Hello? Hello? What’s going on in there?
JERRY: This thing’s been a fiasco from the start.
JOHN: Why can’t the guy at least say hi or something?
JERRY: I’ve never seen the like, and I was here
For Karla Faye. A healer and a clown.
BESS’S VOICE: Uh-oh. O NO.
JOHN: Mom? Mom?—What’s going on?
JERRY: I can’t stand to hear you squawking
About it in my ears no more!
JOHN: You don’t act like a government official!
You act like a baby!
JERRY: I act like a baby?
TORCH THE JAILS AND LET’S BE DONE WITH IT!
JOHN: There’s something funny going on in there!
Did you just hear the mic switch off? HELLO!
[Bangs on the glass]
HELLO HELLO GODDAMNIT HEY HEY HEY—
The curtains part abruptly to reveal HT with an arm locked around WILL BLAINE’s neck and a long, crude stiletto shoved up under WILL’s chin.
HT: I AM THE NIGGER OF DEATH!
[To WILL]…Let’s let the public get a look at you!
You hiding back there like the Wizard of Oz.
[Sings] Let the Midnight Special
Shine a light on you
Let the Midnight Special
Shine his ever-lovin’ light on you.
Welcome! Welcome! Welcome to my show!
BESS: I hope you know this wasn’t my idea.
JOHN: You’re still alive!
BESS: And really loving it.
BILL JENKS: Hello, HT. What are you playing at?
HT: A little game that I’m inventing called
Let’s Execute the Executioner.
If anybody interrupts the game
I’ll blow up every motherfucker here
Including me.
JOHN: You’re gonna blow us up
With a knife?
HT: I didn’t say I blow you up
With a knife. I blow you up, is all I said.
JOHN: Well, what’s that in your hand?
HT: Don’t get sarcastic.
JOHN: Hey, I’m not. I’m quite sincerely trying
To form some sense of what you’re threatening
To blow us up with here today, and what
I’m seeing in your hand looks like a knife.
HT: Quite true. But what’s this in my other hand?
[He releases his choke hold on WILL and pulls a gun from his pocket, points it at JERRY while keeping the point of his knife to WILL’s chin.]
I want everybody in this room with me.
JERRY: We can’t do that.
HT: You can’t when you’re dead!
JERRY: We can’t, sir, it’s impossible. The chambers
Don’t communicate.
HT: What are we doing now?
JERRY: There’s just no access. They’re designed that way
With just this kind of contingency in mind.
HT: How about this contingency!
HT shoots. The glass doesn’t break.
JERRY: That one, too.
HT: But I still got this guy! His head ain’t bulletproof!
JERRY: Of course. We’re all cooperating here.
HT fires all his bullets uselessly at the glass.
HT: You think I’m outa bullets? Well, I am!
But whatchoo think these honeys are? Big tits?
Having dropped both knife and gun, he finds in his pockets two hand grenades.
He yanks the pin of each with his teeth and spits the pins at WILL.
Nothin’ clamps these levers down but me.
Anything happens to me—I get distracted,
Maybe you bore me and I fall asleep,
Sharpshooter shoots my head off—we all die.
Now get around in here. Yes—you and you.
[To JOHN] No—you, sir—no. Don’t want no clowns in here.
The Reverend Mister Billy Jenks. That’s right.
Go out that door, go down th
e hall, and come—
You think I’m stupid? No. I’m just insane.
Go out that door, and come around in here!
You don’t say boo to nobody. Or else!
JERRY: You have my word.
HT: I have your what what what?
JERRY: Stay calm. We’ll do as you request.
You have my word as a Texan.
HT: O…OK…
JERRY: OK, Preach, let’s get on under the Big Top.
JERRY and BJ exit.
HT:…Ma’am, I’m sorry to mess your execution up.
BESS: O, that’s OK, I guess.
HT: Well, I’m just saying.
I’m just improvising, so I hope
You don’t resent some wrinkles in the plan.
BESS: I’m not in a position to resent much of anything.
HT: Hey, if you want, I’ll make these folks untie
Your arms and legs and kiss your ass.
BESS: No, thanks—
All in all, I’d rather be put to sleep
Than blown to bits.
HT: Yeah…Ain’t you the lady
Flushed her little baby down the toilet?
BESS: No, that wasn’t me.
HT: You put it in
The trash incinerator.
BESS: Guess again.
HT: The grinder in the sink.
BESS: Not even close.
HT: Where are those guys?
WILL: It doesn’t really matter.
I’ll have you on the gurney soon enough.
HT: The gurney? For probation violation?
WILL: I saw you on America’s Most Wanted.
HT: Is there no person on this earth who ever
Watches any other program? Try
And hide! I’m like the president!
WILL: You’re guilty of a double homicide.
Today should be your execution day.
HT: The day’s not over yet.
WILL: You goddamn right.
HT: You make my point. You see these things?
I splay my fingers, on the count of five
Soul of a Whore and Purvis Page 9