by Nuel Emmons
I went into the kitchen to see what Brenda might need to prepare an extra special meal. She gave me a list and I asked Bruce to take one of the girls and get the needed supplies. Before leaving the kitchen, I asked Brenda how she had been feeling, if the effects of the talatche still bothered her. She explained she still had slight fainting spells, but nothing weird anymore. “How about Tex?” I asked, and she replied, “You know Tex, it’s hard to tell if he’s on an old high or just starting a new one. He and Katie did some acid a little while ago. The last time I saw him, he was headed toward the back house.”
I found Tex, as Brenda had said, stoned in the back house. When I walked in, he was sitting on an old couch, his head bobbing and his hands tapping his legs in time to some music that no one could hear except Tex. Inside his head, he was probably doing a command performance at the Hollywood Bowl. “Hey, man, how are you?” I asked. His head rolled back and his eyes focused. He jumped up, shouting, “Hey, Charlie, you’re back! All right! Geez, it’s good you’re here. Guess you heard about Bobby?” “Yeah, Tex, I heard about Bobby,” I said, “It’s a tough way to see a brother go down.” Tex nodded his head in agreement and said, “But things are going to be all right. The girls got a plan, and now that you’re back we can get on with it. Bobby will be out in no time. Did they tell you what they want to do? Have you talked to them yet?” “I just left them a few minutes ago,” I replied, adding, “Thing is, partner, I told them what they do, they do on their own. I ain’t ready to go back to jail.” “I hear you,” he said, “Jail’s not where it’s at!”
I knew Tex was wiped out, but I also knew that he could function pretty well while on one of his trips. Tex had good retention of what he said and did until he reached a state of complete unconsciousness. To make sure, I asked him, “How’s your head, Tex? I mean are you together, do you know what I’m saying to you, can you hold on to it?” “Sure, Charlie,” he said, “you know me, sometimes I go overboard and lose a day or two, but if I’m on my feet and talking, I can stay with it.” Satisfied he wasn’t that far gone, I went on with what I had to say. “Tex, you remember the black and what I told you when I came home after killing him?” Tex was very quiet and thoughtful. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t heard or understood, it was like he knew what was coming next and wanted his head to be ready to take it. And he was right, some heavy things were going to be laid on him. “That life I took for you was your life. Bobby is my brother. He is your brother. And to save our brother, I’m asking you for the life you owe me.” Tex pulled himself to his full height, looked me in the eyes and solemnly said, “I can handle it, Charlie. What have you got planned?” “I don’t have any plans,” I told him, “it’s the girls’ thing. I just know they can’t take care of it by themselves. Whatever they decide, they’re going to need a man to carry it out.”
I left Tex and headed to the boardwalk. Stephanie and the girls had returned from their tour; they were laughing at Clem, who was imitating some of the people he knew. Stephanie somehow seemed different from the typical girl who ventured onto the ranch and remained. She didn’t have the resentment and hostility toward authority the rest of us shared. She was kind of a class broad, and I wondered how long she would stay with us.
As I walked toward the group, she broke away and ran up to me. She was impressed with the ranch and the people who lived on it. “Which house are we going to live in?” she asked. I hadn’t yet told her that I didn’t belong to anyone and that she wouldn’t belong to just me. Why say anything now, I thought. So I took her by the hand and we walked away from the others. “Well now, my pretty little thing,” I said, “I really haven’t decided which of these stately mansions I want to make into a palace for my queen. Maybe we’ll just use a different place every night. When we’ve made love in every one of them, we’ll decide which place is the best for us, and that will be our castle.” “Okay then,” she said, “let’s get in the truck and go back to Big Sur.” We both laughed, remembering the beach and her acid trip.
I thought, “Charlie, you are a rotten bastard! Why don’t you take this girl back to her righteous home? You like her, and today you might love her, but you know that tomorrow or the next day, you’re going to pass her on to someone else. Why fuck up another life?” But those were weird thoughts for me. What was happening to my head? Was this little girl getting her claws in me? Aloud, I said, “I think, for tonight, we will sleep in that little trailer right there. Did you get your things out of the truck?” She answered that she had, and Squeaky had been given everything, so I arranged to see her at dinner. I needed time to think.
That evening, I sought out Squeaky. I wanted to check on the other girls, but the important issue was what to do about Bobby. My first step on the porch of George’s house brought her to the door, and her first words were, “I’ve been waiting for you.” She brought out two cups of coffee and we sat on the porch. “Have you heard from Mary and Sandy?” I asked. “No, not yet,” she replied, “it really isn’t that late so we shouldn’t worry. But I have the strangest feeling. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything. We’ll know in an hour or so.”
With that out of the way, I got on with my real reason for coming to Squeaky. “Have the girls made any plans? I mean when and where?” She said, “Charlie, you know Susan doesn’t plan anything. If somebody doesn’t guide her, tell her or push her into something, she isn’t going to get anything done. If we wait for her to make a decision, Bobby will be in the gas chamber and Susan will be saying, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.’ You know that! And Katie is trying to run away from it, she’s on an acid trip right now. Linda is into any kind of thrill. She’ll probably go along, but she isn’t going to originate anything. They’re going to need help. You’re going to have to handle it, Charlie, they’ll need a man with them.” “Girl,” I said, “I told you kids, I do not want to go back to jail! Tex owes me—he will be the man. But I’m out of it!” Squeaky smiled and said, “Okay, Charlie, we’ll see. It’s time to eat. You go ahead, I’ll be right there.”
I walked to the main cluster of buildings and into the saloon. There were about fifteen people there, but on special occasions such as I had meant this meal to be, there were normally twice as many. Bobby, T.J., and several others were gone. Damn it, things were changing. Depression swept over me. But I didn’t have time to let it get the best of me. Everyone was waiting and they were hungry and anxious to hear about my days away from the ranch. I went into one of my happy, “everything is okay” routines and said, “Let’s eat! Mary and Sandy will soon be here with gifts for everyone. And here on my right is the newest member of our happy group, Miss Stephanie Schram, most recently from San Diego and given to us by a tab of acid and a moonlit beach at Big Sur.” Stephanie’s face flushed as she nodded to the applause from those present.
Brenda had done a masterful job with the vegetables and other “throw-outs” from the local supermarkets. During the meal, I told of my experiences while away from the ranch. The conversation was light and joyful and I projected the same joy, but inside I was very troubled.
During the month of August, the days in southern California last until nine-thirty or ten o’clock in the evening. By the time we finished our dinner, it was almost dark. Mary and Sandy were still not home. A look at Squeaky told me she was also worried about the two shoppers. Being the first to travel with me, Squeaky and Mary shared things many of the others didn’t. Though Squeaky was younger than Sandy, she very much mothered by her. It was natural Squeaky would show deep concern for her two favorite people.
Shortly after ten o’clock the phone rang. It was Sandy. She and Mary had been arrested while shopping with the stolen credit cards. Squeaky took the call and relayed the bad news to me. She was upset, but I was in a rage. I walked away from the buildings, stood beside a tree and pounded my fists against it until the shaking rage left my body, but my head was still pounding. I forgot that the girls were doing something illegal, forgot the murder of Hinman and the shooting of Crowe. All I
could focus on was, “What the fuck is happening here? One by one this fucked-up society is stripping my loves from me. I’ll show them! They made animals out of us—I’ll unleash those animals—I’ll give them so much fucking fear the people will be afraid to come out of their houses!” These thoughts might sound like pure insanity, but every abuse, every rejection in my entire life flashed before me. Hatred, fury, insanity—I felt all of these things. “Get a hold of yourself, Charlie,” I thought. “Slow down, be cool, think this thing out.” My head stopped throbbing, but no self-analysis could drive me away from the thought of revenge. I went looking for Sadie and Tex.
Sadie and Linda were in front of the old movie set with some of the other kids. I motioned for them to take a walk with me, and when we were out of hearing range I said, “It’s time to do something to help our brother. Have you thought about it?” Linda just looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. Sadie hesitated and then said, “Well, yeah, like I said, we’ll do it witchy and then make it look like the same person that did Gary in is still out and doing it again.” A little irritated, I asked, “I mean, Sadie, do you have a plan, do you have a house picked out?” “Well—no but . . .” she stammered. “But, my ass, Sadie. I’ll talk to Tex. You just do what Tex tells you!” I was getting angry at her so I left, telling her to get her things together.
Looking for Tex, I ran into Stephanie. “When are you going to take me to my palace?” she asked. I wasn’t in the mood, but I didn’t want Stephanie to be aware of what was going on. I put my arm around her shoulders and walked her to the trailer, took her inside, gave her a couple of kisses and a pinch on her tit, and then told her, “Look, I’ve got some important business to take care of for the next hour or so, and then I’ll be back, okay?” I left, thinking I would be back in a short while.
I went through the back house looking for Tex, but ran across Katie instead. She was lying down, trying to shake the effects of her afternoon acid trip. I nudged her with my foot, saying, “Katie, Katie, get up. You’re going for a ride with Tex and Sadie.” She was still groggy when I walked away, but I knew she would get up and do what she was told. As I left the back house, I spotted Tex walking toward the boardwalk. I gave him a call, he stopped, and we had a talk near the corral fence. I did most of the talking. “It’s time to get something done for Bobby. The girls are ready to do whatever is necessary. They don’t have a plan or a place picked out, so it looks like it’s going to be pretty much up to you. But I think it would be best to hit some of the rich pigs’ places. Get some bolt cutters or something you can cut a phone wire or gate chain with. You know what else you need, so put it all together and get going.” He said, “Geez, Charlie, my mind’s not working, I can’t think of a house.” “Come on, Tex,” I said, “you’ve been to a lot of those rich guys’ places. You know the neighborhoods—someplace like where Terry used to live. Just make sure the girls do it like Gary’s house was done. Maybe even take some rope and hang somebody, like a reverse of the Ku Klux Klan thing; that way it will put the heat on the blackies.”
Twenty minutes later, the old Ford and its crew of four pulled out of the dirt driveway.
Watching the car leave, my mind flashed on the events of less than twelve hours ago, when I had pulled into that same driveway and declared I would leave the kids, the ranch, and the lifestyle rather than be part of something that was sure to put me back in jail. Now I was so much a part of it, I might as well have been in the car with the others, knife and gun in hand. I knew that each suggestion dropped to Tex would be followed as a course of action. Whatever they did, it would be the same as if I had done it with them. For one short moment, I had an urge to overtake the car and bring them back. Instead, I turned and walked in the direction of the trailer where Stephanie waited.
The thoughts that were flooding my head wouldn’t allow for any tender lovemaking. The devil needed time to himself. So I turned away from the trailer and Stephanie and took a long walk. Maybe sometime during that walk I thought of how wrong it all was. Personally, I had never believed any tactics, copy-cat or otherwise, were going to get Bobby off the hook. Yet I had let the kids run with their scheme, and just minutes ago, I had put the clincher on it by saying, “It’s time to go!” I had shared in the madness. I had a moment or two of regret, but for the most part, bitterness and contempt for a world I didn’t give a shit about allowed me to go along with anything that might come of the night’s activities.
I felt Tex had forced the Crowe incident on me, and that act had put us up against a wall of fear and paranoia that was reflected in all the changes that happened since. As for Hinman, even though I had lifted a hand against him, in my present frame of mind it was easy to lay the blame on the three who had botched a simple job going to the guy for money. I felt that these two incidents were more behind the direction the old Ford was headed than any beliefs of Charles Manson. I hadn’t twisted any arms. I wasn’t sitting behind anyone with a gun next to their head, giving directions. Yet, I can’t deny making some of the suggestions that led to the events of that night. Nor can I deny that I was the one person who could have prevented that car from leaving Spahn Ranch. But—so goes the feeling of power when coupled with hatred.
CHAPTER 8
ON THAT EVENING, August 8, 1969, I was aware of being totally without conscience. Though I have pointed to numerous circumstances in my life that may have turned my head in the wrong direction, I can’t put a finger on when I became devoid of caring emotion.
While waiting for the kids to return, some of my thinking went back to the day in 1967 when I walked out of prison. At that time I resented the law and the system, but I respected the people who abided by the laws and supported the system. During those first months after my release, I knew a love and a sense of belonging that was the greatest reward of my life. I remembered the time I had taken the guns and thrown them in the bay because of the violence they represented. I found myself thinking, was that only two years ago? It seemed like another lifetime. Here I was, waiting for a report of murder to come back to me, not caring who had died or how many victims there were. And the closest I could come to disliking myself was, “Charlie, you are your mother’s son—one dirty bogus bastard.”
Thinking of my mother quickly altered any softness that may have been creeping into my mind. I saw my mother guiding me through the court room door, and heard her speak the words, “Yes, your Honor, I want my son, but I just can’t afford to support both of us at this time.” I remembered the argument she had had with her boyfriend a few nights prior to that day in court, and I heard him saying, “I don’t give a shit, I’m leaving, I can’t stand that kid. Get rid of him and we can make it just fine.” I saw four larger and older guys beating the hell out of me and wrestling me to the floor, and I remembered them holding me while one ripped my ass with his big cock and then the others took their turn. I thought of good old Mr. Fields, in charge of all the boys and paid to teach us the responsibility of being honest citizens, lubricating my asshole with tobacco juice and raw silage and then offering me to his favorite pets.
My head was straight now. Fuck this world and everyone in it. I’d give them something to open their eyes, and then take our group out into the desert.
I saw the headlights and recognized the old Ford before it pulled in the driveway. By the time it stopped, I was almost to its parking place. I wasn’t sure what time it was, but it had to be around two in the morning, and I was ready to hear the details of the night’s activities.
Sadie was the first one out of the car. She was beaming with excitement as she ran up to me and threw her arms around my neck, saying, “Oh, Charlie, we did it ... I took my life for you!” “Girl,” I said, taking her arms from around my neck, “what you did, you did for yourself! What you’ve done is lock me to you.” I pulled away from her and walked toward the car. Tex was getting out and favoring his leg. My first thought was he had been wounded, but he had only bruised his foot while kicking one of the victims. He was glassy-eyed and gr
inning, and while not as high as Sadie, he was not suffering from remorse. To the contrary, other than his limp, he was moving around with an air of arrogance. We clasped hands and exchanged a brotherly hug. I told him, “Don’t go away, I want to hear about it.” Linda and Katie were slowly getting out of the car and I wanted to have a look and a word with each of them. Both indicated they were not feeling too good. I told them to make sure the car was free of any possible evidence and then to go to bed. Sadie, having noticed some blood on the exterior of the car, was already on her way out of the saloon with the needed items to thoroughly clean the vehicle. Sadie Mae Glutz was completing her night’s work without orders from anyone.
The car cleaned and inspected, Tex, Sadie and I sat down in the bunk house so that I could get a complete run-down on all that had happened. Sadie was really fired; she couldn’t sit still unless her mouth was going so she did most of the telling.
Tex had straight away driven to the house Terry Melcher had once lived in. He was familiar with the place, since Tex and I had both visited when Melcher lived there. It was a wealthy neighborhood, Bel Air, and the seclusion of the house was a major consideration. Once there, they drove uphill toward the dead end at the top of Cielo Drive. Then they went past the driveway, turned the car around and parked it facing downhill, ready for a quick escape. Before the girls got out of the car, Tex climbed a telephone pole and used the bolt cutters to cut the lines leading into the house. Avoiding the driveway and gate, the four of them entered the yard by climbing over the fence. As they walked up the driveway, lights flashed from a car coming down in the opposite direction. The four immediately dropped to the ground and the car came to a halt so the driver could open the gate. When the car stopped, Tex approached the driver, a teenage boy (Steven Parent) and shot him several times with the .22 Buntline revolver I had used to shoot Crowe. The four of them then pushed the car back off the driveway.