The Executioner's Song (22 page)

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THE EXECUTIONER’S SONG

It must have been eleven o’clock. Brenda woke up to hear him knocking on the door. There was Johnny asleep, same as every night, on the couch. He had been there since eight. When she first met Johnny he had been a Class B state champion of archery and had a short pointed beard. Out on the archery range, he looked as handsome as Robin Hood. Today, if dear John didn’t get his ten hours of sleep, he couldn’t function. Now, Brenda recollected herself falling asleep bored to death.

“I had a hassle,” Gary said.

“A hassle.”

“I took a tape deck in Grand Central and walked out. The guard

stopped me, so I threw it at the guy.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I hit a car.” He told the rest of it.

He looked so tired, so sad and his beat-up face was such a holy mess that she couldn’t stay too angry. Johnny was up and stirring. His expression said the reason he liked to sleep was because it kept him from hearing news such as this.

“Brenda, I need fifty bucks bad,” Gary said. “I want to go to Canada.”

He had it figured out. “You explain to the police that Nicole had nothing to do with it. That way, they’ll let her have the car back.”

“You’re a man,” Brenda said. “Go down, and get the car yourself.”

“You won’t help me?”

“I’ll help you write a confession. I’ll see it’s delivered.”

“Brenda, there’s a lot of loudspeakers in the back of the car. I

ripped them off in a drive-in movie.” “How many?” “Five or six.”

“Just to be doing something,” said Brenda. “Like a little kid.”

Gary nodded. There was the sorrow in his eyes of knowing he would never see Canada.

“You have to turn yourself in to Mont Court in the mornin said Brenda.

“Cousin, keep on my ass about it, will you?” said Gary.

Nicole spent the night at her great-grandmother’s house where he would never think of looking for her. In the morning, she went back to her mother’s, and Gary called not long after, and said he was coming over. Nicole was scared. She put in a call to the police, and, in fact, was talking to the dispatcher when Gary walked in. So she said into the phone, “Man, get them out here as fast as you can.”

She didn’t know if Gary had come to drag her away. But he just stood at the kitchen sink. She told him to go away and leave her alone, and he just kept looking at her. He had a look as if everything inside him hurt, man, really hurt. Then he said, “You fight as good as you fuck.”

She was trying hard not to smile, but, in fact, it made her a little less afraid of him. He came over and put his hands on her shoulders. Again, she told him to leave. To her surprise, he turned around and went. He practically passed the cops as they were coming in.

By afternoon, she regretted not letting him stay. She was really afraid he would not come back. A voice in her head kept sounding like an echo in a tunnel. It said, “I love him, I love him.”

He showed up after work with a carton of cigarettes and a rose. She couldn’t help but smile. She went on the porch to meet him, and he handed her a letter.

Dear Nicole,

I don’t know why I did this to myself You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and touched …

You just loved me and touched my soul with a wondrous tenderness and you treated me so kindly.

I just couldn’t handle that. There’s no bullshit or meanness about you and I couldn’t deal with an honest spirit like yours that

didn’t want to hurt me …

I’m so fucking sad . . ,

I see it in detail like a movie. And it makes no sense. It makes me scream inside.

And you said you want me out of your life. Not that I can blame

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you for that. I am one of those people that probably shouldn’t exist. But I do.

And I know that I always will.

Just like you.

We are both very old.

l would like to see you smile at me again. I hope 1 don’t have to

wait until I reach the place of no darkness to see that.

GARY

After she read the letter, they sat on the porch for a while. Didn’t say too much. Then Nicole went in and got the kids, picked up their diapers, and left with him.

On the way, he told her what had happened at Grand Central. By the time they reached Spanish Fork, he got his nerve up and put in a call to Mont Court, who said it was too close to evening to do anything. First thing next day, Court would pick him up and drive him over to the Orem Police. Gary and Nicole slept with their arms around each other. It would be their last night together for they did not know how long.

The Lieutenant of Detectives in the Orem Police Department was a pleasant-looking man of average size with a big face, bald’ head, and a crown of yellow-reddish hair. He wore eyeglasses. His name was Gerald Nielsen and he was a good Mormon who grew up on a ranch and was an Elder of the Church. He was sitting in his office when the dispatcher called and said, “There’s a fellow out here wants to turn himself in.” That was an event which might happen from time to time, but it wasn’t common. The Lieutenant went out to meet him’ A fellow could lose his courage during the time it took to walk from i Reception to Nielsen’s office.

It was early in the morning and the man looked like he hadn’ slept too well, “I’m Gary Gilmore,” he said. “I want to talk to somebody.” He was wearing dark glasses and his eyes were black and his

nose was swollen. They had hardly said hello before Gilmore mentioned that he had been in a fight. Considering the number of stitches, you would have supposed it was a car accident.

When they got back to his office, Gerald Nielsen poured him a cup of coffee out of the pot they kept for prisoners — a different expense account — and then they sat there without talking for a little while.

“I stole a tape deck at Grand Central,” Gilmore began, “and as I was leaving, I bumped another car. The car I was driving belongs to a friend of mine and they ended up impounding it. I thought about running to Canada, but my girl friend told me to stand up to what I

have coming.” He said it with his battered face. “That’s all that’s involved?” asked Nielsen. “Yes.”

“Well, I’m wondering why you’re so nervous about it.”

“I just got out of prison.”

While they were waiting for the police report of the episode at Grand Central to be brought in, Gilmore recounted how many years he had been in prison. As he spoke, Nielsen got the impression more and more that Gilmore would never have shown up this morning ff his parole officer had not driven him to the door.

Gilmore muttered, “Boy, I have a hard time when I drink.”

The report came in and the events were as Gilmore described. Nielsen called Mont Court who verified that he had brought Gary over. Since Court had had time to get back from Orem to his office in Provo, Nielsen could see that Gilmore waited more than a few minutes before getting up nerve to announce himself.

Now, he stared at Nielsen through his dark glasses, and said, “I just don’t want to go back, you know.”

“Well,” said Nielsen, “they don’t usually return people to prison

for misdemeanors.”

“They don’t?’

“That’s a fact of life.” It concerned Nielsen a little that the fellow was sufficiently scared, in fact paranoid, to think a misdemeanor was going to terminate his parole. A man with Gilmore’s experience ought to know better. The Lieutenant looked one more time at the

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reports and decided he wouldn’t book him. He didn’t yet have all the facts in the Complaint, and it would amount to holding the man. That would be counterproductive to the effort Gilmore had made to come in and confess. So Nielsen said, “I’m sure they’ll charge you, and there’ll be a Complaint filed. But, for now, why don’t you go ahead and go to work?” When Gilmore looked confused, Nielsen added, “Have them give you a long lunch hour tomorrow. That’ll allow you time to appear before the Judge. I’ll tell the officer to have the papers ready.”

“You mean you’re not going to lock me up?”

“I don’t want to jeopardize your job.”

“Well, okay, you know.” Gilmore was certainly surprised. He sat there for a minute. “Could I make a phone call?” he asked next. “I

don’t have a ride.”

“You bet.”

He made a couple of calls but couldn’t reach anybody. “Maybe,” he said, “I ought to go to Provo and get that car out of impound. I’ll hitch a ride.”

“Well,” said Nielsen, “I’m going there now. I’ll give you the rideY

Nielsen drove him to the Provo Police Department, took him to the proper window, and left. Gilmore began to make arrangements to get Nicole’s car out. There were complications. The drive-in speakers had been discovered. Since they had not been listed when the car was first impounded, but only on the next day, there was no legal basis for adding stolen speakers to the Complaint. Anyone at The Whip, for instance, could have put them in the trunk.

Three hours after he kissed her goodbye and left in Mont Court’s car, Gary came driving up to the house in her blue Mustang. He was bright-eyed and talking a streak. Told her they had to get down to court fast. It was a real opportunity. The police Complaint, he had learned, wasn’t going to be ready until tomorrow.

IN TROUBLE WITH THE LAW

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If he went over now, he explained to Nicole, there would be no cop around to go into detail over what he had done. He was only up for petty theft. The Judge wouldn’t know if it was a dollar or ninety-nine dollars. Besides, he’d also heard the regular Judge was on vacation. There was only a Pro Term, that is, just a regular lawyer standing in, not a real Judge. He wouldn’t know that much. It was made to order. On a misdemeanor, with no prosecutor and no cop to read the Complaint, it could be like coming to pay a traffic ticket.

Even with Gary’s explanation, she was surprised by the Judge. He didn’t look more than 3o. He was a small man with a large head, and he said aloud that he didn’t know anything about the case. Gary kept talking to him as smoothly as a salesman making the deal. He was careful to threw in a “sir” now and then.

Nicole wasn’t so sure it was working. The Judge had the expression of a man who was not getting a particularly good feeling. One uptight Mormon. When Gary asked what the penalties might be on a plea of Guilty, the Judge said he would make no promises. As a Class B misdemeanor, it could amount to 9o days in jail and $299 for the fine.

She began to wonder. When Gary said, “Your Honor, I think I’m going to enter a plea of Guilty,” the Judge asked if he was on drugs or drunk. Did he realize he was waiving his right to a trial and to counsel? The language sounded awful, but by the flat way the young Judge laid it down and Gary nodded, she hoped it was routine.

Then the Judge said he wanted a presentence investigation through the Probation and Parole Department. Now Gary had to explain he already had a local officer. Nicole thought Gary was hanging himself for sure. The Judge frowned and said he would give him until five o’clock to post bail of $ioo. Otherwise, he could report to the COunty jail.

Gary said he didn’t have any hope of getting that much money before five o’clock. Wouldn’t the Judge give him a release if his probation officer vouched for him? The Judge said, “I’m a firm believer that people should not be punished because of lack of funds. Since

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you walked in of your own accord, I will consider your request. Let your probation officer call me.”

Gary came out of the phone booth smiling. Court was pleased he’d turned himself in, so it looked like they wouldn’t have to worry for a month. Of course, there would be a presentence investigation, and then he would have to appear on July 4 for sentencing, but maybe it would cool off by then. They walked out of the courtroom together.

Now, after all that had happened, after the fight with the Chi cano, and the terrible night on the highway, after two days of being apart and knowing the fear of being separated for a lot more than that, they were together again. For a day and a night everything was better than if they had never been apart. It was as ff somebody had hidden sparklers inside her heart in that place where she had ex pected to find nothing. God, she loved him while his face was mend ing.

April came to visit for a couple of days, and didn’t stop talking. She was tied, she told Nicole, of their mother. “Man, she’s the queen, and I am tired of her power games. She tries to make it look like I’m a rot ten defiant child when all I’m trying to do is get away from threats. If I say one damn thing, she threatens me with the hospitals and the doctors. Whereas I,” said April, “don’t sit around and watch my mother’s behavior. She’s going to have to go. Queens and princesses don’t get along.”

Nicole said yes. She was never around April for more than a couple of days before she decided the whole family was crazy. It was just that April was in touch with the heavy strings on the fiddle.

April and Gary, however, really got along. April thought Gary was powerful, witty, and very intelligent. The first night, after a few beers, he began to teach her how to paint. April aid he must love Sissy very much and certainly the kids.

Everything Gary painted was sharp as a razor. If he painted a bird, you could see every feather as though under a magnifying glass, but he didn’t teach that way. “Just mix the color so it comes out the way you feel,” he said. April was looking at Gary like he was her guru.

Nicole never knew what to make of April’s looks. She was short and chunky whenever she didn’t watch her diet, which was almost