Yours for Eternity: A Love Story on Death Row (5 page)

Oh! How I wish I could make you happy—even for a little while.
Please tell me anything possible that I can do that will make you happy. Even gleeful.

I have never taken a drink of alcohol in my life, nor have I ever taken any drugs—but I suppose many things are drugs—coffee, sex, sugar—so I don’t know if that statement is true. I have nothing against alcohol or drugs—au contraire—I find them quite fascinating and I am forever asking my friends about them—especially psychedelic drugs. When I was 10 years old—I made some rules for my life and those rules included I never wanted to drink or lose control of my mind in the state that I know it by chemical inducement. I can’t even tell you why. All I know is that I’ve never even been tempted. The other rule was that I was to live without guilt. That one has been more difficult—but I do fairly well. I trust myself enough to know that if I want to do something or don’t want to do something—I have to go on my instinct. I suppose the hard part is when someone’s feelings are in danger of being hurt. That’s when I have problems.

I am home, now. I’m in Clay, West Virginia, where my father grew up. We are staying in the house he grew up in—a very simple wood-frame house.

My father was dreadfully poor growing up—he had 8 brothers and sisters and this house has only 3 rooms. They didn’t have running water or electricity at all, then my dad’s mother died while giving birth to his younger sister when my father was 2 years old, so he doesn’t remember her. My dad said he was always scared growing up—because there wasn’t anyone to take care of him except his older sisters. He said he ate cornflakes almost all of the time and sometimes for Christmas he would get blackberry ice cream. But he grew up into such a kind-hearted man—but I know he still harbors fear in his heart. My parents honestly don’t know what to make of
me. I always feel so alone when I come home. This time I’ve come home for a family reunion that we have every year. We hang out in the graveyard for most of the time—having a picnic and talking. Although no one really knows what to say to me—I’ve always been really quiet around them. Last year someone called me a kite without a string (!?).

In the last week, my thinking has radically changed. I’m starting to realize things about myself that I never have. It feels like the world is a new place for me these last few days—and this is all because of you. Because of you, my life is going to change.

Do you like maps? I love them—I tried to find Tucker on a map—but couldn’t find it—I’ll have to get a better map. I did however find West Memphis. I drove all over Arkansas, but I didn’t drive through West Memphis. I had an idea today—I don’t know if you would want to do it—but it may be fun. On the next full moon—which will be July 1st, at 11:00 pm we start writing to each other and we write down any thought that comes into our heads—it doesn’t matter what they are or if they even make sense—just a stream of consciousness. What do you think? And then we mail it the next day without rereading it! I wonder what would happen? Let me know if you want to. Maybe it’s too silly.

But I kind of think it’s fun.

Oh, yes—maps. When I was in Turkey last October—we drove all over that country—in a teeny red car—we kept getting pulled over by the police—at check areas along the road—we found out later they were looking for 2 terrorists in a red car traveling somewhere in western Turkey. I had a gun pulled on me twice—both by cops—right in my face—it’s funny, I didn’t even flinch. I don’t even know why, because Turkey is wild. You just don’t know what is going to happen to you there—I loved it—you hear horrible
things about Turkish prisons and all—but look what’s happening in Tucker, Arkansas. Americans just don’t seem to realize what’s going on under their own noses.

Do you love full moons? I do. I get so crazy with it. Absolutely, wonderfully insane. Does anything happen to you?? And water. I suppose swimming during a full moon is my favorite thing to do. I don’t get to do that much. Not here.

There is a man in Ohio that I got to be friends with—he’s a very eccentric man and I took to him immediately. Well . . . not immediately. During one of our first meetings I was barefoot and he took my foot and began licking my toes, so on and so on. I was very calm and fixed him with a special eye and said, “Stuart, don’t do that!” He stopped—he said he liked women who were up-front with him (?!). Anyway, we became friends. Two years later he almost died from an illness—it was terribly hard on him—but he lived! And he said he wanted to travel the world and not waste what he had (he’s very wealthy—well, moderately wealthy)—and he wanted me to always travel with him. So after a while, I decided to—so (this story is coming full circle, I promise) I’ve been to some incredible places, mysterious ancient places like Turkey and Marrakesh and Greece—but Stuart lets us travel on the full moon so I can swim in the sea by myself at night. I have no fear of water at all.

I am scared of some things—some people—some places—but I’m still intrigued with fear. It’s essential. I want to poke and prod it. For some reason—I am afraid of my teeth being smashed into my gums. So I’m careful walking up stairs and around baseballs and such.

I’ll be thinking of you till next time,

Lorri

May 6, 1996

Dear Lorri,

Of course I will read
Hopscotch
. You said it’s your very favorite book, and I am curious to see why you love it. Actually, I guess I’m more curious about you, and maybe I can gain a better insight on you by looking at things you hold close or dear. I think I have a little better “feel” on you now. You seem exotic to me. I mean, you love classical music, you like “real” movies not just “splatter films” like most people I know, and the books you read have “class” and “culture.” You seem like a very gentle soul, caring and educated. It’s very beautiful, but at the same time it makes me feel like such a redneck. My friend Rick from New Orleans says I’m not a redneck, I’m a “southern gentleman,” but I still feel like nothing more than a redneck.

You’ve lost 5 pounds due to worrying about me? You’ve got to stop that, I’m fine. I actually feel a little better lately. Most people spend their entire lives running from themselves. But when you’re locked in a small room all alone for a few years, you have no choice but to face yourself, and stare down the truth, and look into the face of your “inner demons.” Then, either you overcome them, or they overcome you. There are only two possible outcomes—either you find some sense of inner peace, or you go down a long, lonely path of self-destruction. I won’t say that I don’t still have my bad days, because I do, but I think that for the most part, I’m at peace with myself. There’s no longer a war going on inside my head.

I’m including a visitation form in this envelope, in case you’re ever down this way. Just fill it out and send it to the address at the bottom, and I’ll let you know as soon as it is approved. One day, hopefully, maybe I’ll even be able to come visit you. You could show me around. New York is one of the few places I’ve never lived. I’ve always wanted to see the Chelsea Hotel, which is supposed to be haunted by Sid Vicious and Janis Joplin.

Well, I guess I’m going to close up for now, but I can’t wait to hear from you again. I love hearing from you.

Forever here,

Damien

May 5, 1996

Dear Damien,

You know, I shaved my head after a devastating relationship, too. And like you, the pain almost killed me. Instead of walking in the sun, I would drive in my car for hours and days, pull off, sleep, hardly knowing where I was. This went on for weeks. That kind of pain is like no other. It’s because of that situation that I ended up in New York. It was the hardest thing I could think of to do—I didn’t know anyone here, I had no place to live, and very little money. It worked, though.

I believe in reincarnation, sometimes; however, it is very, very difficult to see things from a broader perspective—I mean over time—and lives that we have no memory of—learning from past mistakes and triumphs. In some ways, it makes some moments in life bearable. It’s the only reason I’ve been able to understand or accept this strong feeling I have for you—for your well-being. It’s one of the most bizarre things that I’ve ever felt—but at the same time, perfectly natural. I felt like I knew you after that movie. Even as if we had talked before. And even though it has made me into a weepy woman—nobody knows what’s wrong with me—Damien, I’m glad it’s happened.

You are incredibly inspiring.

OK, I’m going to stop for now. I feel as if I could write you every day. I feel as though I have so much to tell you.

Most of it is pretty silly—I really try not to overwhelm you with my prattling away.

But if you want to hear stories—let me know.

I can’t wait to hear from you.

Your friend,

Lorri

May 3, 1996

Dear Lorri,

The relationship you have with your friend from Paris sounds wonderful. I have a friend kind of like that. As soon as we saw each other, it was like, “Even though I’ve never met you, I know you!” It is a great experience.

Yes, I am also very obsessive. Once I become attached to something, it’s like I can never truly walk away from it. I tend to keep it very close to my heart forever.

My parents? Actually, I never got a chance to know my father during childhood. I never knew him. We have just started to communicate over the past 4 or 5 years. It’s a strange experience when you’re meeting your father and he has to ask you who you are. I was raised by my mother and grandmother for the most part. They would do anything to help me, and my grandmother always looked at me as if I were an angel. I was very close to my grandmother, and when she died 2 years ago, it tore me apart. I couldn’t even go to the funeral. Yep, I’m the oldest. I have a sister who is 19 and a half brother who is 10.

If I could study anything, what would it be? All the world religions. That’s what occupies my time now. I read everything I can get my hands on, especially reincarnation and meditation. I found that at their core, all religions teach the same principles. You mentioned reincarnation in your last letter. If you stop and think about it, it’s the only reasonable explanation for a lot of things, like
different types and classes of people, why some live in poverty while others are rich, etc. Or people who have phobias—like being buried alive or drowning or high places.

I laughed when I read about your white wig. I could see it as plain as day in my mind, and it was hilarious.
When I was young, I was obsessed with cowboys. Everywhere I went, I wore my hat and guns, and I wouldn’t even look at the television unless it was a Gene Autry or Roy Rogers movie. I was also horrified of taking baths, because I was positive I would go down the drain. My mom used to have to fight me to get me into the bathtub, because I would be kicking and screaming. We also had a Dixie cup dispenser in the bathroom, and I would lock the bathroom door and use all the Dixie cups to drink water out of the toilet because we thought it “exciting.”

I also used to think I was really loved, but the longer I’m here, the more people drift away and forget me. Oh well, now at least I know who my true friends are.

I don’t think you “prattle away.” You keep me company. Yes, I would love to hear stories. I’m interested in your life. It’s like I said before, you seem exotic.

Trust me, my entire life is out of sync, so why should our letters be any different?

The way you described how you felt after a bad relationship hit me close to home. I know exactly how you felt, because I was in complete agony. The end of that relationship was the most devastating, miserable thing I’d ever felt in my life, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. No amount of physical pain could ever amount to that burden of emotional pain. There’s no way to describe how it hurt. It took me a few years to get over it.

Well, I guess I’m going to close up for now and go take a shower. It’s been a couple of days, so I guess I need one.
I can’t wait to hear from you. I’ll be here waiting.