The Executioner's Song (71 page)

                Then another sight!

                A rear-mirror view of a second truck driver running toward the first truck. Dennis didn't stop. There were too many cars behind. But just before it happened, he had been thinking of the date, November 2nd. In his mind, he was writing it as 11/2. That, of course, added up to thirteen. In the major arcana of the tarot, thirteen was the card for death.

                So the word had been running through his mind even as he saw the dead man. He thought, "Wow! God! I bet the next road sign will be another indication." When the exit came up on the shoulder, it said: Star Valley and Deeth. That had to be as much synchronicity as anybody's synapses could take.

On the evening of the second, he got to Salt Lake early enough to vote for Carter on the Independent line. Then, on the morning of the third, he woke up thinking about Gilmore. "God, here I am," Dennis thought, "right in the juncture of something really important." He could see the possibilities extending out. "It's a tremendous opportunity for a writer," he thought, "and I ought to send Gilmore a letter!"

Boaz did. A few years ago when he had been a young prosecutor, Dennis had actually been against capital punishment, but now he had come to believe that even in an ideal society, we might still need the death penalty. Capital punishment, properly applied, could say a lot about being responsible for one's actions, and the thing was to get back to responsibility. Boaz didn't put all this in his letter, but did say he supported Gilmore in his right to die.

On those evenings that Timber Oaks Mental Health would let April out, Kathryne would take her to Nicole's apartment for a couple of hours. Sometimes April would say, "Sissy, are they really going to shoot Gary? Why doesn't Gary want to live, Sissy?" Nicole would be real calm about it. "Oh, I don't know," she'd say. Real calm. Like it didn't even bother her. It bothered Kathryne so bad, she'd bawl at night. Couldn't stand seeing the announcer on TV talking about it.

                There, right in the middle of the commercials. It made everybody on TV look crazy.

Sometimes, Nicole would come to Kathryne's with the kids and sleep over. She would never talk. Not even to her aunt Kathy. She would put Sunny and Jeremy to bed and then write poetry. That was all. Writing and writing at poetry. She was never abusive to the kids, just didn't pay much attention.

Right in the first week of November, Kip died. Killed in a fall down a mountain. Rock-climbing. Kathryne was getting ready for work on November 4, when she heard a name on the radio, Alfred Eberhardt, and said to herself, "Oh, my God, that must be Kip." All day at work, she worried how Sissy might be taking it. In fact, she went straight over to Springville from her job, and there was Nicole with her little lamp off, writing, writing. Kathryne went in and said, "What are you doing in the dark?" Nicole said, "Oh, I hadn't noticed." She turned on the light, got coffee, was laughing and joking around. Kathryne didn't know how to ask her if Alfred Eberhardt was Kip. Finally had to pop it. Nicole just said, "Yeah, yeah." Kathryne said, "That's what I was afraid of." Nicole said, "Yeah." Kathryne didn't think Nicole was showing what she ought.

                A little later, however, Nicole looked up and said she'd like to call Kip's folks. Soon as Kathryne was all for it, Nicole said, "I don't know. What would I say to them?"

                It did hurt, Kathryne said to herself. She does care.

Nicole was remembering back to that day years ago when she left Barrett and went out with all she owned in a pack on her back, and Sunny, an infant, on her arm. When Kip picked her up hitchhiking, their romance started right that night. He had been a stud in the beginning. A real first night.

                The next day they found themselves driving in the Colorado Rockies, and Kip stopped the car and took Nicole and Sunny on a mountain trail. At one point they could see a fellow who was trying to climb a rock wall up a cliff. There was a little ledge about three feet off the ground that this fellow kept stepping onto, but then he would lose his nerve about going higher, and step back.

A couple of hours later, when they came down the trail, the fellow was still there. "He's stoned," said Kip, trying to laugh, but looked bothered. There were other fellows high up on the rock wall now with ropes, maybe as high as the eighth or tenth floor of a building, just hooked into the wall. Kip couldn't take his eyes off. Nicole could see him get depressed. It was like here he was with a new chick, a super chick, and these dudes were showing him up. In fact, Nicole wouldn't have minded meeting one of them. They looked super-daring.

The radio report said Kip was a novice climber. Nicole began to wonder if he had been doing it with ropes, or was like that poor stoned fellow stuck at the bottom of the ledge getting nowhere.

November 3

Just listen—and don't become rebellious or stubborn or independent as is often your immediate reaction when told to do or not to do a thing. Okay. What I am telling you is this: You are not to go before me. You mention this in your letter and I always take you serious. I don't like to tell anyone, but especially you, to do or not to do anything. Without giving them a reason. The reasons are this: I desire to go first. Period. I desire it. Second, I believe I may know a bit more ABOUT THE TRANSITION FROM LIFE TO DEATH than you do. I just think I do. I intend and expect to become instantly in your physical presence wherever you are at the time. I will do all in my power to calm and soothe your grief, pain, and fear. I will wrap my very soul and all of the tremendous love I feel around you. You are not to go before me, Nicole Kathryne Gilmore. Do not disobey me.

A letter also came to Vern. In it Gary wrote that neither Vern nor Ida had come to visit him after his death sentence, "so that's self-evident that you're ashamed of me." Then Gary added, "You haven't even put a frame on the portrait I gave you. I want you to take that picture and give it to Nicole. I don't want to have anything to do with you."

                When Ida got her bearings, she wrote, "I cherish the drawings you gave me. That's the only thing I have of you. As far as me giving. them up and giving them to Nicole, you can just go sit on it, I won't do it. They're mine."

Vern added a note to Ida's letter, "I don't know what's gotten into you. We tried to see you down at the jailhouse and the only person you wanted to see was Nicole, so we gave up. That's a true fact. I'm going to back Ida all the way. We're not giving the pictures up."

Nicole, l hope it didn't develop into a hassle or a bad scene. I got a letter from Vern and Ida today—Ida would have you picked up if you "caused any trouble." (Her words, not mine.)

                Jesus, baby, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I got relatives like that. I hope you did not have to go thru an unpleasant thing with either Vern or Ida. Fuck them. Forget it, let them keep the pictures. They know they ain't welcome to them but I ain't gonna have you go thru a hassle with them. I'm embarrassed about it.

Gary also wrote Brenda to give Nicole his oil painting, and she asked Vern what to do. Vern told her to follow her conscience. She sent Gary a letter: "I don't want to, but if you insist I will. If it doesn't mean that much to you, it sure don't mean that much to me. Up your bucket. I don't want it. If that's how nasty and selfish and childish you want to be about it, I'll take it and stuff it over Nicole's head. Then she can really wear it and enjoy it."

On the 3rd of November, Esplin got a letter from Gary. It read: "Mike, butt out. Quit fucking around with my life. You're fired."

PROVO HERALD

Nov. 4—Despite being dismissed, the two defense attorneys later Wednesday filed a notice of appeal—in their names—with Fourth District Court Judge J. Robert Bullock.

                They said it was "in the best interest" of the defendant.

That story produced numerous phone calls for Earl Dorius. The press kept asking what position the Attorney General's office intended to take on Gilmore. Dorius replied that Snyder and Esplin could try to file an appeal without their client's consent, but he thought they would lack standing.

                Earl had the feeling "standing" was soon going to be a big legal word in the office. Even if Snyder and Esplin moved off the case, he figured other groups—whether Gilmore wanted it or not—would soon try to appeal. Then, standing—one's right to take a case to Court—was going to be very important.

November 4

Hi Baby.

                Today when I was going to talk to Fagan about extra visits, this dude who was dressed sorta like a girl called to me from one of the other sections as I passed by . . . this cat's on Max for beating the shit out of a guard lieutenant. I guess he's a man in most respects, a solid convict from all I hear about him, but also a sissy, queen, or whatever you wanta call 'em. Tonite at chow he sent over this little note I'm enclosing for you to read—That you might get a kick outa it.

Hi, Gil, I have been reading about you in the paper and I must say that you are an exception to all rules. People just don't know what to think of you, hell they just don't know us Texans, do they, for we can handle anything in this fucking world, huh.

                I made the remark this morning, that I was wanting to talk to you, to see what made you tick!

                Sugar, don't pay any attention to some of the shit that I come off with, for you know how a dizzy bitch is.

                What do you do over there all the time besides a lot of thinking? I guess that I shouldn't be asking you a lot of old foolish questions, but you know how a whore is, always wanting something!

Under it, Gary wrote:

                Hey Baby Nicole don't go getting any kind of jealous feelings now!

                Jimmy Carter is the new Pres. Ain't that somethin! I didn't believe Ford could lose I think it's only the second time in history of the entire universe that an incumbent president lost an election.

DESERET NEWS

Nov. 5—Utah officials of the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and the NAACP said they will try to have their attorneys assist in the appeal process.

                ACLU spokesman Shirley Pedler said, "Our stance is that the state does not have the right to take his life regardless of his choices or decisions."

November 5

I met an Indian today who I've known for years. His name's Chief Bolton. He was a guard in the Oregon joint when I knew him several years ago. He's a great big fucker. 300 pounds or so, a purty good man, even if he is a guard, and.. he told me he can easily understand my feelings—Indians understand death more easily than white people I think.

                I also got a letter from a Dennis Boaz in Salt Lake. He's a former lawyer from California. He seems to fully understand my situation and feels I have the right to make the ultimate decision without interference from any legal source. This guy Boaz is now a freelance writer and wants to do an article for national publication. He said he would split any money he receives for his story with anyone I choose.

                Well I reject that outright . . . I simply refuse to capitalize on this in any way . . . This is a personal thing, it is my life Nicole. I can't help getting some publicity but I'm not looking for any.

                Warden Smith asked me today what I might like for a last meal.

                I always thot that was somethin they just did in the movies. I told him I don't know but I would like a couple cans of Coors, he said he didn't know about that—but maybe . . .

Actually, Barrett felt helpless. It was all so incongruous. His job was to see that the man got executed, so they were working on the same side, yet they weren't.

Some bug caught up with Earl, and he had to stay home from work.

                It was the same day, November 5, that Gilmore phoned the office! In the evening, Earl watched a couple of newscasts where Bill Barrett, his associate—no relation to Jim or Nicole Barrett, Earl would yet have to tell people—got interviewed with respect to Gilmore's phone call. Earl was discouraged that he had not been in the office to take it himself. Barrett might be his best friend at work, and they had made a good team this last year—what the heck, they always joked, Barrett being tall and thin next to Earl who was short and well built, how could they help but bring separate points of view to a problem? Still, it was frustrating to be legal counsel to the prison, do all the work, and yet miss a high spot like Gilmore calling up.

The call came in from Deputy Warden Hatch. A little later, Maximum Security was on the line with Lieutenant Fagan who introduced the convict. Barrett heard this soft-spoken man who sounded very rational. He didn't rant, rave, yell or scream. In fact he kept saying, Mr. Barrett.