A couple of days later, Gary stopped off after work to pay Val for the Mustang. He had already missed the first installment and Val was upset. Of course, it was no big incident. Half the people Conlin sold cars to were sooner or later delinquent in payments. It just part of the ongoing hell-of-a-success-story that was Val's life.
In the last fifteen years, Conlin had gone from being manager of Orem Buick-Chevrolet to owning the dealership. Then he got into a big dispute with the Ford company and another with his partner, and before the litigation was over he had gone from being the largest new-car dealer in Utah County to being the smallest used-car dealer. One hell of a success story. Conlin Motors sold very old cars more often than not-so-old cars, just drive them off the lot for a little down. The rest when you could get it. People on welfare or picking up a little alimony, ex-cons, who couldn't get credit anyplace else. Those were his clients.
Val was a tall slim guy with eyeglasses and a keen and face. He had the build of a golfer—relaxed shoulders and a paunch. He was dressed this day in polyester red-checked pants and a pale yellow sports shirt. Gary was grubby with insulation whose powder coated his face, his nostrils, and his clothing. Kind of a yellow to match Val's shirt.
Conlin now gave Gary a lecture about missing the payment. Since V.J. Motors occupied what was once a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, its showroom wasn't large enough to show cars. It just had a couple of desks, a dozen chairs, and anybody who was there. You could hear everything Val Conlin had to say:
"Gary," he now stated, "I don't want to go out and start knocking on doors. I told you how it works. We try to set a rate you can handle. We agreed you could bring in fifty bucks every two weeks. Don't give me any manure that you're going to pay a hundred next week, or two hundred next month. You got to start bring money in on time."
"I don't like this car," Gary said.
"Well, it's not a real slick car," said Val.
"It gets left at the intersection by every other heap. It's a bad . . . "
"Partner," said Val, "let's get it straight. When you buy a car here, I'm doing you the favor. You can't buy from anybody but me."
"What I really want is a truck."
"Get the payments in on time. Once you pay this off, we can swap for a truck. But I want my fifty, Gary, every two weeks. Otherwise, you walk."
Gary cashed his paycheck and gave him fifty dollars.
That night Nicole and Gary had a bad one in bed. It went on too long and once again he was three-quarters erect, half erect, it finally went all bad. Gary got up, got dressed, stomped out of the house, Went to sleep in the car. It made Nicole mad as hell that he had walked out, and it didn't help that he woke the kids up en route.
She told herself that if she was going to mellow him out, she'd have to calm herself. There had been other times, after all, when he blew out of the house and sat in the car. Usually when the kids' noise was drilling him. She knew from what he told her that the level of noise in prison was always high, and his ears were oversensitive. Somehow with all the years he had put in, he could never get used to the sound.
Now she managed to get the kids together, gave them warm milk, tucked them in, and went out to his Mustang. He was sitting behind the wheel silent as stone. She did not talk for ten minutes. Then she slipped a hand over.
Once in a while, Gary would talk about a dream. On this night, sitting in the car, he spoke of it again. He believed that once, in another life, he had been executed. Had his head chopped off.
In the dream, there was something about Oldness. Something ugly, old and moldy. As he talked, she had a chill. She was thinking of how he would wake up often in a real cold sweat. Once he had talked about another dream where he was put in a box, then put into a hole in the wall. It had a door like an oven.
On the next weekend, Gary ran into Vern. They stared at each other. Good Lord, Vern said to himself, he is giving me one dirty look. "Don't think I'm much of a man, do you?" Gary asked him.
"Maybe I don't," Vern said and turned and left. Afterward, he felt bad.
Same day, while Toni was visiting Brenda, Gary dropped by. Toni certainly didn't know what to say. She wasn't about to accuse Gary—the poor guy had been accused of enough things in his life. On the other hand, she didn't think it was right to let it all go unspoken. Annette was a beautiful young lady and Gary could have had intentions.
She went into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, and Gary chose to come out of the bathroom then. They were obliged to each other.
Gary said, "Toni, you haven't mentioned this thing with Annette." She answered, "Gary, if there's something to say, I'll say it." He took hold of her hand and said, "Hon, I'd never hurt your family." There was a silence. Toni believed him. That is, she believed she could accept what he said. Still, she also felt she wasn't going to let Annette be alone with him. There was always the other possibility. "Gary, I go along with you," she answered at last, "but, just not her, I'm a mother first." He smiled and said, "If you weren't, I'd be disappointed in you." He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and went back to the front room.
Brenda tried to amuse Gary by telling a story about Val. In the old days when Val had the Lincoln-Mercury he always acted like a big shot at the Riverside Country Club. The type to snap his fingers at the waitresses. Brenda was working his table once and thought Val kind of brusque, so she said, "How'd like me to drop this soup on your head?"
"How'd you like me," Val answered, "to get you fired for that remark?"
"I'd tell my boss you were lying," she said.
Gary laughed. He hugged her and lifted her up in the air with no trouble. Considering that she was 155 pounds at that point in her life, he was awfully strong. How had he ever lost the fight to Pete?
Gary must have been sitting in her brain. "Brenda," he said, "it's not through yet. In prison you don't leave things like that undone."
The following Saturday, Gary and Nicole still planned to take a trip the canyons, but now both Mustangs were giving them trouble. It made Nicole wonder about their luck. All last week, Gary's car had been dead every morning in a row. Having to get it pushed made him late for work. On this Saturday he even decided to visit Spencer McGrath, who might know what was wrong.
Spencer said right off he probably needed a battery. "There's nothing wrong with the old one," Gary told him.
Spencer said, "How do you know?" Gary said, "Well, it looks all right." Spencer laughed, "You can't tell by looking."
Spence went over to the shop, got a meter, checked it out. It was awful low. "The battery," he said, "has a dead cell in it." Gary said, "Well, what am I going to do?" Spence said, "Buy yourself a new one. They go for twenty to thirty dollars, along in there." Gary said, "Gee, I don't have it." "You got paid just yesterday," Spence said. "I know," said Gary, "but I made the car installment, there's not much left." Spence said, "How will you last till Friday?" Gary said, "I probably can make it. Just don't have enough to buy a new battery." Spencer loaned him thirty.
Gary was back in half an hour. At K-Mart he found a honey for $29.95. With tax, it was thirty-two. Spence said, "I guess you had to take a couple of dollars out of your pocket?" Gary said, "Well, yes."
Spence said, "Gary, how are you going to get through this week?" Gary said he didn't know. Spence gave him another five for gas, and said, "Pay the car off. Then we'll work it out."
The $32 for the dead battery was the beginning of a real run of rotten luck. Monday night, thinking he would surprise her, Gary went to pick up Nicole at driver's training school, and found his lady sauntering down the hall with four guys in tow. As soon as she saw Gary, she rushed right up, gave a big smile, and tried to let everyone know that she was his. But she could feel how the sight went through. On the way home, he said, "I won't tie you down." She knew he was thinking of Uncle Lee, Jim Barrett, the three-day party, a couple of other dudes, and her life.
He told Sterling about it. "She's free. I don't want to lean on her freedom," he said. He crossed over to the cemetery
that faced all the houses on Sterling's street, and Sterling went with him. There was one grave that had no flowers. A little boy's grave. Gary went around and took a flower from each of a number of other graves and put them in a rusty little vase by the boy's headstone. Then they got on to some good pot. Right away, Gary had to get out of there. Told Sterling he was seeing himself in a tomb.
One night soon after, Rikki was at Sterling's and Gary was needling him to arm wrestle. Bragged to Nicole of how he had beaten her brother. They got into it.
Nicole didn't know if Gary was worn out from the night but Rikki took him this time. That is, was about to win, but Gary cheated something obvious, and even lifted his elbow off the table.
Now Gary wanted to try with the other arm. Rikki really got him. That left Gary giving dirty looks. On the way home from Sterling's he dropped by a little store that was open all hours and stalked with two six-packs.
It was risky to steal from that small a place, but he had technique. Picked up two six-packs, not one. No hesitation in his walk. At the same time, he managed to make his face look unpleasant. Not for too little would you break into such thoughts to ask if he had the beer.
In the beginning it had been fun. By now it was getting on her nerves. Whenever something bothered him, he got brave. Nicole always been ready to boost if she needed something, and once they got together, she might even have been the first to do it, but Gary showed her how to really walk out with something. It had been a joke for a while. By now she had to notice that if anything went wrong, he'd steal to cheer them up.
Then he'd drink it afterward. Always getting loaded on beer. She came to realize that there had only been a couple of nights he wasn't drinking. She tried to keep up, but didn't like it that much. He wouldn't even let her leave beer. Didn't like to waste it. If she popped a can, he kept after her to finish.
Nicole was kind of irked that Gary was not only ripping stuff off, but letting everybody know. He was even bragging to his uncle. Things weren't right yet, but Gary had to drop by anyway, and offer a case. When Vern noticed that the trunk of the Mustang held two more of the same, he asked Gary how he could afford it.
"I don't need money," Gary said.
"Do you realize," said Vern, "that you're breaking your parole?" "You wouldn't turn me in, would you?"
"I might," said Vern. "If it persists, I might turn you in."
One day he came home with water skis and that bothered Nicole. It just wasn't worth the risk. He was stealing something he. probably couldn't sell for more than $5, yet the price tag was over $200. That meant they could get you for felony. Nicole hated such dumb habits. He would take a chance on all they had for twenty-five bucks. It came over her that this was the first time she ever disliked him.
As if he sensed it, he then told her the worst story she ever heard, it was supergross. Years ago, while still a kid, he pulled off a robbery with a guy who was a true sadist. The manager of the supermarket was there alone after closing and wouldn't give the combination to the safe. So his friend took the guy upstairs, heated a curling iron, and rammed it.
She couldn't help herself. She laughed. The story got way in. She had a picture of that fat supermarket manager trying to hold on to the money and the poker going up his ass. Her laughter reached to the place where she hated people who had a lot of things and acted hot shit about it.
For the first time she had a day when she thought she shouldn't be living with Gary so much. A part of her simply didn't like staying that close to a man for so long a stretch, but as soon as she realized how she felt, Nicole knew she couldn't tell him. He expected their souls to breathe together. More and more, however, an old ugly feeling was coming back. It was the way she got when she had to fit herself to somebody. You could put that off only so long. She still felt better with Gary than with anyone else, but that wasn't going to change the fact that when she got into a bad mood, it was like she had two souls, and one of them loved Gary a lot less than the other. Of course, maybe a part of him was the same way. He couldn't be loving her that much when they got into one of those five-hour deals.
It happened the night he brought home the water skis. Next morning, she wondered if it had to do with Barrett. Jim had popped up the other day while Gary was out at the store. Walked through the door cool as you please after being away for months. Maybe it was just conditioned reflex, but she felt a little stirring down there.
After Barrett left, she felt bad at the way she had only kind of told Gary the truth. She had no respect for Barrett, that was right. He was a pussy. But she hadn't let Gary know he could be an eel when came to wiggling all the way in, so when Gary met Jim this first time, he hadn't acted too heavy. Of course, Barrett just acted like was the father of Sunny and happy to be tolerated. Still, Nicole felt like she was keeping a rotten secret. Because Barrett could pass a cigarette and make something out of it. Tickle your memory like was tickling your palm. Hint that you had a gift to offer.
Now, those last couple of nights, she had been tripping a little on good things in the past with Jim to get herself more in the mood for Gary. Barrett's timing had sure been good, just as Gary's—she had to admit—was getting a little crude. Since Rosebeth, Gary had to make love six or seven times a week. Maybe they'd skip a night, but make up for it with two another. It was his idea, not hers. She enjoyed it more a day or two apart, but he kept pressing his damn luck.
This night, from seven to midnight, Nicole and Gary argued first about the water skis, then everything else. Finally she convinced Gary she wasn't going to fuck him. He had gone too far on uppers, downers, and around-ers. If she had a gift, Gary was not exactly bringing it out. Not with his demands to do this, do that. Suck him now. She looked at Gary across their bodies and said, "I hate sucking cock."
The Fiorinal had put a glaze on his eyes, but her words still hit. He took off. Left at midnight and didn't come back until 2. He was hardly through the door when he was asking her to suck him all over again.
Why? she asked. Like a dunce. Do it because I want you to, he said. It was as bad as the first night. They didn't get to sleep til five. At five-thirty, Gary was up like a maniac, ready for work.
Between midnight and two, Gary had been to see Spencer and Marie. When McGrath opened the door, Gary asked if he and Marie would like to play three-hand poker.
Marie was already in bed, but she got up and made a cup of coffee. The McGraths, however, did not want to play poker. Not after midnight. Spencer kept himself from saying, "It's a little rude to come by this late."
In fact, they were used to seeing Gary drunk. There had been a couple of times he came over at odd hours. Once he really needed calming down. Started to talk about what he would do to a fellow named Pete Galovan.
Another time Gary had dropped in when Spence and Marie were having a barbecue in the backyard. He was so drunk he couldn't lift the latch on the gate. Spence had to go over, and bring him in, give him some chow. There were a number of guests around but Spencer gave Gary full attention and made him drink a couple of cups of coffee. Then he talked about things that were wild. Got into reincarnation.
"You really believe that?" asked Spencer, "Oh, you bet," said Gary.
"A lot of people think we come back as other species, like a horse or an insect," Spencer said. "Seems it would be hard to straighten things out if there's all that shuttling back and forth."
Gary didn't go for Spencer's idea. He was going to come back as a human. If he messed this life up, he'd do a better job in the one. "Why not a better job in this one?" Spencer thought. Chose to say it.
Of course ever since Gary had found out that Spencer knew little about cars; he had begun to come by on Saturday with the Mustang. The muffler fell off once, and Gary didn't know to get back by tightening the clamp. Hadn't the slightest idea. It wasn't he was lazy, but a month before he might have tried to figure the situation out. Now, he didn't seem to show any initiative. It was like he was offended there was something wrong with the car. What he couldn't
recognize was that these malfunctions might be due his inability to drive knowledgeably. One more reason for Spencer to be after him continuously about starting the study program for driver's license. Talking to the wind. Gary could sure keep awake. Spence would have gotten as much sleep if he had played poker.
He had to admit it, Gary made him sad. In the beginning, he always been coming over to ask Craig Taylor or himself to take at what he had done. If Gary got the hang of something new, he was pleased when they praised him for it. Swelled up proud. Now that had been living with Nicole, Spence didn't know if he cared if he did a good job or not. More like he was putting in his time for a paycheck. Those cutoff Levi's of hers. Gary seemed to be going to the girl's level.
Unable to sleep, Spencer got mad all over again at the way Gary would now goof off during the day. You had to notice how long he took for lunch. Then, every Thursday he had to leave early to see his parole officer. Plus other time he took for other excuses. Not a week had gone by without asking for extra money, and Spence never deducted the lost hours or his own out-of-pocket from the paycheck. Once, Gary did talk of doing a painting to wipe out the debt, but so soon as Marie and he began to think about it, Gary didn't bring it up anymore.
Next morning, before they were even straightened out on the job, Gary was asking if anybody'd like to buy a pair of water skis. One fellow came up to Spence to inquire if Gary might have stolen them. Spence asked, "Are they brand-new?" Couldn't believe Gary had ripped off water skis. A man might slip cufflinks or a watch into his pocket, but how did you steal those big slats right out of a store?
Spencer looked upon himself as a real simple character, but he was beginning to wonder if Gary was taking marijuana on the job or something. He sure looked awful this morning.
"Gary," Spence said, "let's get down to something basic. Every week you're broke. Why don't you take the money you spend on beer and save it?" Gary said, "I don't pay for beer." "Well, then who in hell gives it to you?" Gary said, "I just walk in a store, and take a six, pack."
The Executioner's Song Page 14