The Executioner's Song

by Norman Mailer

  The prison took him off Prolixin, and the symptoms went away, but he was a different man to Grace. There was something in him now she did not trust. His talk turned shabby. His view was nasty. It was as if they were on different islands.

  Gaylen Gilmore came into Grace's life. Gaylen, whom Bessie had talked about for two years. Gaylen who, of all the boys, wanted most to be a writer. He wrote beautiful poetry, Bessie said. Also wrote checks. When he was 16, he began to drink. Then he would go down to the bank and write a check with her name on it. His downfall, said Bessie, was that he was handsome. In Bessie's mind, she had never seen a more handsome boy. She laughed even more with Gaylen than with Gary.

  The worst thing Gaylen ever did was cash a check at Speed's for $100. When it bounced, she said to Speed, "I'll turn over my next check," and he said, "No, it's not your fault." Bessie said, "I have to."

  When she told Gaylen about the conversation, he got in his car and was gone for five years.

  Called from Chicago and said, "Mother, this is the first time I've been away from you at Thanksgiving and I wish I was there." Bess said, "If I send the money, will you come?" Said he would, but he didn't.

  Years later, he came back with Janet, his wife, and a bleeding stomach. Bess didn't know that it was not an ulcer. He had been stabbed with an ice pick. Bess was going to take him to Gary for a visit—he hadn't seen Gary for years—but Gaylen said, "I'm hung over." Bessie said, "What did you do to get so drunk last night?" He said it was the anniversary of Harry Houdini's death, and he always celebrated that.

  Then one night, close after midnight, Janet called Grace to say that Gaylen was very ill, and had no money for a cab. Could she drive them over to Milwaukie Hospital? Grace did, but Gaylen could not get admitted. He had neither a welfare card nor a doctor.

  On the hospital's suggestion, they went on to Oregon City.

  There, Gaylen was told the same thing again. It was now two in the morning. The next hospital said no. Grace said she would sign for his treatment, whatever it cost, but they said he needed a doctor to admit him. Grace thought: This boy is going to die in the back seat of my car.

  At the Medical School, they were told to wait, and my God, they sat there until a quarter after five. Gaylen, in considerable pain, finally stood up and told the women he would wait no longer. Grace said good-bye at the motel. Grace said, Call me if I can help you, and went home thinking they could lay her out next to a basket case and little to choose.

  A day later, Grace got a letter from Gary. There was $50 enclosed as partial payment for $100 she had advanced for a new set of teeth, but the rest of the letter was terrifying. His hatred for the prison seemed uncontrollable. He spoke of violence with a gusto she could not comprehend. It was altogether outside every conversation or understanding they had ever had of each other.

  At this point, Grace said to herself, "I only have so much energy. I have children and grandchildren. I can't carry this. I am a devout coward."

  She called Bessie and said, With all the love in the world, and I will not stop the way I feel for you, I just have to pull out.

  Bessie understood. There was no bad-mouthing. Grace just very gently pulled out, and that was it. She had not seen any of them since.

  Later, she heard that Gaylen had died, and Bessie took on the costs of two guards' bringing Gary to the funeral. The officers were decent and dressed in regular clothes and stood way back. Nobody knew Gary was in custody. Afterward, Bessie went over personally and paid the guards while she was thanking them.

  Chapter 31

  WILD WIND BLOWING

  October 7th

  Angel Nicole.

  I'm at the joint now. Just got here. I seem to be in the hole. A single cell with a fucked up mattress, no pillow and somebody else's dirty paper plates on the floor . . . They gave me a pair of white coveralls to wear and I hate to wear coveralls. Too tite in the crotch.

  What is to become of us Nicole? I know you wonder. And the answer is simply: By love . . . we can become more than the situation.

  Nicole my inclination is to let them execute me. If I were to drop the appeals they would be forced to either commute the sentence or carry it out. I don't think they would commute it.

  The decision is not really mine alone to make. I cannot ask you to commit suicide. I thot at one time that I could but I can't. If I am executed and you do commit suicide well to be simply honest I guess that is what I would want.

  But Im not going to put it on you by asking you to do that.

  October 8th

  This morning they brought me a pillow. Wow! I'm shittin in tall cotton now!

  I was given a brief rundown on the place by a lieutenant and a caseworker. I asked them about visits and they said that you would be able to see me. Even though we are not legally married you will be able to visit me. One hour a week on Friday morning between 9 and 11 o'clock. Listed you on the visiting form as NICOLE GILMORE (BARRETT) and under "Relationship" I put common law wife—fiancee. I would like you to use my name but of course your identification says Barrett—and they will probably ask you for I.D.

  October 9th

  I don't know if I've told you of my feelings of the Civil War before—I probably have. You won't be surprised anyway to know that all of my sympathies lie with the South. And its as strong a pull as that I feel for the Emerald Isle.

  Right or Wrong, they Believed—toward the end that's all they had to fight on, belief and courage. They were out of supplies—out of food and ammunition and the things it takes to fight a war. But they almost won. They came within a hair of winning that most bloody of wars.

  "When Honest Abe heard the news about your fall, The folks thot he'd threw a great victory ball, But he asked the band to play Dixie, for you Johnny Reb—and for all that you believed—You fought all the way Johnny Reb, Johnny Reb, You fought all the way."

  Oh well, its one of the things in history that appeal to me, like also the Alamo.

  October 11

  I wrote to my mother Friday after she called me here. I have never before spoken to my mother in the way that I talked to her two days ago. Although the feeling between my mom and I runs deep it has always been expressed in surface tones. Anyhow, I told my mom of the love you and I have for each other. I told her that I can't and don't want to explain just what happened that resulted in this. I did tell her that thru a lifetime of lonely frustration I have allowed weak bad habits to develop that have left me somewhat evil. That I don't like being evil and that I desire to not be evil anymore.

  Oh, Nicole, there comes a time where a person must have the courage of their convictions. You know I've spent about 18 years of my 35 locked up. I've hated every moment of it but I've never cried about it. I never will. But I am tired of it, Nicole. I hate the routine, I hate the noise, I hate the guards, I hate the hopelessness it makes me feel, that anything and everything I do is just to pass the time.

  Prison maybe affects me more than most people. It drains me.

  Every time I've been locked up I guess I've felt so hopeless about it that I've allowed myself to sink so fully into it that, well, its resulted in me spending more time in jail than I've probably had to. If that makes sense.

  You are a very strong girl, a very strong soul. You know that, and you know that I know it. You had to get that strength somewhere, you're not simply born with it. I mean you can bring it from an earlier life, but you had to originally earn it by overcoming something hard. We are only stronger than the things we overcome.

  October 13th

  My bills are all due and the babies need shoes And I'm busted.

  Cotton is down to a quarter of a pound And I'm busted Got a cow that went dry and a hen that won't lay A big stack of bills that get bigger each day The county will haul my belongings away I'm busted.

  I went to my brother to ask for a loan I was busted.

  How I hate to beg like a dog for a bone but I'm busted.

  My brother said "There ain't a thing I can do My wife and n
ineteen kids are all down with the flu. And I was just thinkin of callin on you—

  I'm busted."

  The bravest people are those who've overcome the greatest amounts of fear.

  I just hate fear. I think that fear is sort of a sin in a way . . . I may shortly, next month, be faced with more fear than I've ever known before . . . I can't say what I will feel when and if that time comes . . . I sort of feel that all my life has been building to this.

  October 15th

  If you come to see me and they won't let you in, go to the Warden, his name is Sam Smith. Don't argue or get angry with him—people in his position don't have to listen to arguments, they are a power unto themselves, just explain that we are engaged to be married and that the visits, and our letters, mean an awful lot to both of us.

  It's a dull motherfucker back here. I ain't got conversation. All these two Mexicans talk about is pimpin bitches and how sharp they are. Little greaseball turds. I've heard all this conversation for years—it never varies from penitentiary to penitentiary. Pure bullshit—essence of bullshit.

  I'm not saying its right to break the law. I'm not talkin about that—but these prisons as they exist are wrong.

  October 17th

  I ain't had a nite's sleep since I been here. They keep the lites on outside the bars 24 hrs. a day. I hang my towel up at nite to shut out some of the lite and they wake me up when they count and threaten to take my fuckin mattress if I don't take the towel down. It's insane.

  Kathryne was in a state about Nicole. Things were bad enough when Gary was at the County Jail, but then Nicole was just going from Springville to Provo. Now, it was different. Hitchhiking to the prison took Nicole through Pleasant Grove, and she would often leave the kids with Kathryne and stop off on her way back.

  Kathryne tried to talk about it to Gary, but it wasn't very successful.

  "How's he seem?" she would ask, and Nicole would answer, "How? How could he seem?" Then, Kathryne found out through Kathy that Gary was saying he wanted to die. Nicole was very quiet about this.

  Kathryne really got scared when Nicole said that her kids would be better off without her.

  They got into a big fight over that. Kathryne said a lot of mean things she didn't even feel. To begin with, she was afraid of hitchhiking, so she got on Nicole's ass over that. Then, Gary. "He's no good," Kathryne would say. "He's nothing but a damned killer and he deserves the death penalty. No," she would correct herself, "that's too good for him."

  "You don't understand him," Nicole would say. "No," Kathryne said, "I don't, but why don't you try to understand those two poor women who have to raise those kids who don't have a father now, while you are running up every cockeyed day to see that damned killer."

  Kathryne wasn't really feeling as angry at Gary as she pretended.

  Secretly, she might even feel bad for him, but she had to find a way to stop Nicole from hitching to the prison. All Kathryne could see for the future was that when they executed Gary, Nicole would go to pieces.

  It was one big argument. At the end, Nicole was yelling. That, at least, was better than silence. "Fine, isn't it," Kathryne said. "Go and blow a man's head off." " I don't care," said Nicole, "I don't want to hear a goddamned thing you got to say."

  "Oh, Nicole, why, why," asked Kathryne. "Why in the hell are you going there?"

  "Because he has nobody else. I'll go every single day until they execute him. In fact," said Nicole, "I'll go and watch it."

  "How could you?" shrieked Kathryne.

  Then it wore itself down to simpler stuff. "If you need a ride," said Kathryne, "for Christ's sake, if you need to get up there, call one of us." "Well, you work," said Nicole, "and I don't want to bother you." "Dammit," said Kathryne, "it don't make any difference if I'm working. I don't want you hitchhiking." "Well," said Nicole, "I can't waste the time to drop off here."

  Even Mr. Overman, for whom Kathryne was working, told Nicole, "Listen, girl, if you need a ride, call us at work. It don't matter if you want to go at eight o'clock in the morning. Your mother can take off to go with you. I don't like hitchhiking." Nicole just laughed. She said, "Oh, you all worry too much."

  October 7

  I was once deprived almost totally of my dreams for about 3 weeks. It was when I was on that Prolixin and couldn't sleep. Luckily, I knew the importance of dreams.

  So, I compensated the best I could. I would let my mind wander into the hallucinations that were imposing themselves on me but never enough that I couldn't pull out of it. I believe I learned something that few people could ever really understand: what a terrible thing it would be to be insane.

  It is a fact that I was on trial for my life and my lawyers simply did not defend me. It's true that they didn't have a hell of a lot to work with—but they were never curious either. They never really tried to look beneath the surface. They assume that like everybody else who ever gets a death sentence, I will allow them to keep me alive with appeals.

  I mean they simply don't know a lot of things—those two puppets Snyder & Esplin Fuck them.

  I s'pose they got paid pretty good. They earned it. The State paid them and they did what they were s'posed to do for the State.

  October 18th

  The lieutenant . . said we gonna have to cool it a little with the "lovemakin" in the visitin room. l told him we was just glad to see each other (an understatement). He said he can understand that—he's human, too, I didn't know, but rules are rules and he don't wanna have to warn us too many times.

  Here's some verses from The Sensitive Plant. It's by Percy Bysshe Shelley.

  And the leaves, brown, yellow and gray, and red and white with the whiteness of what is dead, like troops of ghosts on the dry wind passed, Their whistling noise made the birds aghast.

  I dare not guess, but in this life Of error, ignorance, and strife, Where nothing is, but all things seem, And we the shadows of the dream.

  October 9th

  I ain't got anything against Sue but you said in one of your letters that she's always tryin' to get you to go out with her boyfriend's boyfriend and that fucking Hawaiian probably came over because of Sue. I don't know why you even let that Hawaiian even stay in your house that long—Jesus, baby, fuck that. Just make it clear to the motherfucker that he' s gotta go. And I wish you'd make it clear to Sue that you don't need boyfriends.

  You don't have to let some asshole set in your living room while he's waiting for his friend to come get him—let him go sit in the gutter.

  The reason you couldn't find the word in the dictionary is because you read it wrong—or I didn't write it right—anyhow it's TAUTOLOGIC not TANTOLOGIC. Look again.

  I've considered outright asking you to commit suicide. I've thot of telling you that I would assume all the debt, if there were any to be paid if you did commit suicide. I would if I could. But how can I make an offer like that when I don't know what it would cause if you were to do that. Angel, are we now being given a chance to relive something that we've fucked up in an earlier life???

  That could easily be what is happening as anything else.

  Look, I've told you I ain't much afraid about any of this—well, I am afraid of making the wrong choice. I'm afraid of hurting us, l don't want to hurt us.

  Sue was seeing all the changes in Nicole. In the beginning, when Gary had first been in the county jail, Nicole really wanted to go out. Maybe she was in love with Gary as much as she said, but she was also enjoying that nobody was on her all the time, nobody. She and Sue started going out together. Sometimes, after Sue had the baby, they'd party at Nicole's house.

  Then it started. Nicole didn't want to see guys anymore. After the trial, Nicole would read letters all night long. Or else, the girl was constantly writing. That impressed Sue Baker. One time Sue even saw her writing at four in the morning. She couldn't stop. It was like smoking.

  Sometimes Nicole would laugh at the funny things in his letters.

  Some would make her cry. She would try not to let Sue k
now she was crying, but you could see her reading with red eyes. Tears would come down her cheeks. Then she would sit up, stop crying, and go on with her letters.

  A couple of weeks after the trial, Nicole became really excited.

  "Yes," she said to Sue, "he's not going to fight it. He wants to die."

  Sue started to say what she thought of that and Nicole said, "If he wants to, he's got the right." You couldn't tell Nicole otherwise.

  October 20th

  Fuck me in your mind and in your dreams Angel come to me and wrap it around me warm and wet and hot and sticky and sweet and take my cock in your mouth and in your cunt and in your bootie and lay on me and lay under me and lay beside me with your head so close and your pretty legs so high and rite around me and put your cunt in my mouth for me to kiss and lick and probe and suck and love and feel you explode and moan and sigh and run wet and warm into my mouth.

  One day, hearing Sue talk about her Valiums of which Sue had one hundred, 10 mg. each, Nicole asked, "How many do you take if you want to kill yourself?" Just asked it one night calmly as hell. Sue never thought nothing of it. Said, "Well, I don't know. I don't want to try, so I don't know." Never gave it thought, but as the days went by, and Nicole got moodier, Sue began to worry now and again.

  October 20

  I am reminded constantly of the almost awesome unreal situation we are in. I have to accept it I have no choice you choose to accept it. You amaze me, the utter strength and beauty you show. It would be so easy for me to die, I have but to fire those two idiot lawyers drop all appeals walk out of here Monday Nov. 15 at 8 AM and quickly and easily be shot to death. If you choose to join me it would be much harder for you would have to do it yourself by whatever means you decide on: sleepin pills, gun, razor blade whatever—it would have to be by your own hand—and that's hard, I know. I'm also not blind to the fact that you believe a heavy debt is incurred when a person commits suicide. I'm also not unaware of Sunny and Peabody. Oh, Jesus! There's no reason why you should acquire a debt that I may not if I am simply shot to death.