It went on another week. He’d only punish her once a day now, and allowed her to go out in the yard. He even left for work. She sus pected a trap and didn’t move at first. But after a couple of days, she took off and went to the bus station. It was Jeremy’s first birthday. She made a call, and Barrett was over to rescue her once again. He always showed up when there was nobody else in the whole fucking world. Knew it. Loved it. He was the only one who would help her out of the worst situations. Prince Charming.
They lived with the kids in a little tent on the lawn of a friend of his. Then they got an apartment in Provo and had Christmas together. All the while she was trying to make it clear to Barrett she didn’t want to live with him, and he was trying to convince her she did. Finally, Barrett split to Cody, Wyoming, with a friend of his also named Barrett, just after she found the house in Spanish Fork that Was like something funky out of a fairy tale.
Gary and Nicole
GARY AND PETE
On the second weekend in June, Gary and Nicole made plans to go up to the canyons and make it in the woods and camp out. But Nicole couldn’t get a baby-sitter. Laurel had to go with her parents to visit relatives.
So, Saturday morning, Gary went over to Vern’s shop to do some lettering on a sign, and saw Annette Gurney, Toni’s daughter, come into the store. She was staying with Vern and Ida for the weekend while Toni and Howard were off to Elko, Nevada, with Brenda and Johnny to enjoy the slot machines and the,crap games. Right there, putting eyes on Annette, Gary asked her to baby-sit.
Ida was opposed to the idea. Her granddaughter might look 6, she said, but in fact, she was 2. There was too much responsibility for Annette to look after two little kids by herself.
Gary didn’t relinquish the possibility. Later, when the job was done, and he was taking cans of paint from Vern’s store out to his car, he told Annette he’d give her $5 to baby-sit. She wanted to, she told him, but she couldn’t. She smiled and took a plaque from her pocket. That first Sunday Garb’ was out of jail, he had given Annette an art lesson when he visited Toni’s house, and now Annette had painted the plaque and wanted to give it to him. He was so pleased that he put his arm around her and gave Annette a peck on the cheek. Then they strolled down the street, hand in hand. Gary was still trying to talk Annette into coaxing Ida to agree to the baby-sitUng.
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THE EXECUTIONER’S SONG
Peter Galovan, who rented a cottage back of Vern’s house, was going into the shop as they were coming out, and he noticed Gary and Annette walking closely together, and stopping. He didn’t like it. Gary had Annette leaning against a wall while he talked. He looked like he was trying to make a lot of points as fast as he could. Pete went back into the store. “Ida,” he said, “I think Gary is proposi tioning your granddaughter.”
Three months ago, while Annette had been staying with Ida, the child had been struck by a car right in front of their house. The car had hardly been moving and it was nothing serious. Still, Annette was with her grandparents and got hurt. Ida didn’t want Toni to think something happened to Annette every time she visited. So she rushed to the window in time to see Gary and Annette strolling back hand in hand.
“I don’t know if that was the right thing for you to do,” she said. “You stay away from Annette.”
Later, Vern said to Gary: “I don’t want to see anything out of the way.”
Next evening, Annette said to Toni, “Mama, we didn’t do anything
wrong. I gave Gary the plaque, and he gave me a kiss on the cheek.” “Well, why did you walk down the street with him?”
“Because a big red bug-the biggest beetle I ever saw J was
flying by. We just went looking at it.” “And you held hands.” “I like him, Mama.”
“Did he touch you anywhere? Did he give you anything more than an affectionate kiss?”
“No, Mama.” Annette gave Toni a look like she was nuts to ask.
When Toni and her husband talked about it, Howard said, “Gary wouldn’t try anything in front of the shoe shop right on the sidewalk.
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Honey, I don’t believe there’s anything to it. Let’s just watch, and be kind of cautious.”
Monday, Vern told Pete that Gary was saying he would punch him out real good. Pete should watch it. Vern said, “If Gary comes in, and wants a scrap, I don’t want it in the store. You go back and fight it out.” Pete, however, didn’t believe in strife. He had heard all about Gary’s trip up to Idaho and the man he put in the hospital.
Back when Gary was taking up Vern’s concrete curbing with the sledgehammer and the crowbar, Pete Galovan had been watching from his window, and was impressed with the amount of labor Gary put out in two days. So, Pete, at first opportunity, had invited him then to a church dance.
Pete, as Brenda later told Gary, was more religious than anyone under God. It was like he had come out of the shell a little wobbly. He had a tendency to take people around the neck and get them to pray with him. Since he was also an immense fellow, six-three, heavy, a little blown out around the middle, and had a big dough-faced friendly expression that looked right at you through his eye glasses, you could hardly say no easily. But when he invited Gary to the dance, he was told immediately to get lost.
Pete didn’t want to fight him now. He had too many responsi bilities. Pete was doing jobs for Vern to take care of his rent, and also working at three other places. He was employed by the Provo School District to maintain the swimming pool, he was a part-time bus driver, and he cleaned carpets on the side. He was also trying to get back in the good graces of the Mormon Church. That all made calls on his time. Moreover, he was doing his best to help his ex-wife Eliz abeth with the finances of raising seven kids from her first marriage.
Needless to say, he was tired, and that wasn’t even mentioning the continuing toll of his various nervous breakdowns, which had required hospitalization in the past for lithium treatment. Just think ing about getting into trouble with Gary stiffened up Pete’s muscles and back.
On Monday, Pete was working in the shop during the late after noon when Vern said, “Here he comes.”
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THE EXECUTIONER’S SONGp>
Gary looked just the way Pete had PiCtured him-all steamed up. The ugliest expression you could expect.
Gary said, “I don’t like what you told Ida about me. I want an apology.”
Pete answered, “I’m sorry if I upset you, but my ex-wife has girls that age, and I feel—”
“Did you see me do anything?” Gary interrupted.
“I didn’t see you do anything,” Pete said, “but the appearance left no doubt in my mind what you were thinking.” If that too strong, he added, “I apologize for what I said to Ida. Maybe should have kept my mouth shut. I apologize for talking too much. But your interest in the girl still didn’t look right to me.” Pete just couldn’t step all the way down when he wanted to be honest.
“All right,” Gary said. “I want to fight.”
Vern was right there. “Out back,” he said. There was a customer in the store.
Pete sure hadn’t wanted to get into this, Walking to the rear alley a step or two ahead of Gary, he tried to get himself psyched up by remembering his old feats of strength. He had been a future track star until he shot himself by accident in the foot at the age of 15, so he switched to shot put and still won the high-school state title. He had done construction work and knew his way around weight lifters. Pete was starting to build up to an idea of physical power as large as his own body, when blare! he was slammed on the neck from behind. Almost went down. Just as he got himself turned around, Gary rushed, and Pete caught his face in a headlock. Immediately, he dropped to the floor. That position was a lot better than boxing. On the floor, he could bang Gary’s head on the cement.
Of course, the grip put a great deal of pressure on Pete’s ribs. His glasses broke in his breast pocket. Next day Pete would even have to go to the chiropractor for his neck and his chest. But right now, he had him. Pete could see Vern standing right over them and observing.
If Gary had waited to stand up and punch nose to nose, Vern thought he could have whipped the fellow. But here Pete had the
GARY AND PETE
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hold and was using all his 240 pounds. That hold was the luckiest thing in the world for Pete. Pete would thump Gary’s head on the floor and say, “Had enough?” Gary could hardly breathe. “Oh, ohhh, ahh, ahh,” Gary would answer. Mumbling was about all he could manage. Vern waited a minute, because he wanted Gary to get all of what he was getting, then said, “Okay, he’s had enough, let him up.” Pete undid his grip.
Gary was white in the face and bleeding a lot from the mouth. He had a look in his eye about as mean as anything Vern had seen.
Vern cussed him out. “You asked for it,” he said. “That was a rotten thing to do. Hit somebody from behind.”
“Think it was?”
“Call yourself a man?” Vern got him by the arm. “Get in the bathroom. Clean yourself up.” When Gary just stood there, Vern pushed him directly in. He didn’t go too easily, but Veto pushed him anyway. Then Gary turned around and said, “That’s the way I fight. First hit counts.”
“First hit,” said Vern. “But not from the back. You’re no man. Get yourself clean and go back to work.”
Pete started collecting himself. Felt shook up more than ever now. So soon as Gary came out of the bathroom, however, he was still asking for an apology. Looked ready to fight again. In fact, Gary’s face looked ready to do anything. So Pete picked up the telephone and said, “If you don’t leave right now, I’ll call the police.”
There was a long pause. After that, Gary certainly left.
Pete made the call anyway. He didn’t like the feeling Gary left behind. A cop came over to the store and told Pete to come to the station and file a report,
Vern and Ida weren’t altogether opposed to this. They told Pete that Gary was getting more out of line every day, Pete even got the name of Gary’s parole officer, Mont Court, and gave him a call as well, but Mont Court said Gary came .from another state, and he wasn’t sure he could send him back to jail that routinely. Pete had a feeling the buck was being passed. Gary wouldn’t be arrested unless he really worked at it.
That night, Pete went to visit his ex-wffe, Elizabeth. “The next time it happens,” he said to her, “Gary is going to kill me.” Elizabeth was tiny and blond and voluptuous and had a fiery disposition and was very wise as far as Pete was concerned for she had kept her happy spirits through a hundred personal disasters. Now she told him to ignore it.
Pete said no. “It’s a certainty,” he said. “He’s going to kill me.
or somebody else.” He told her he was sensitive to Gary’s agitation right now. It was part of the equipment God had given Pete to be sensitive. But he also knew that when he got too responsive to thin he got a breakdown. He tried not to have them anymore. So he Elizabeth, “I want Gary where he won’t harm anybody. Jail is he belongs, and I’m going to press charges.”
Next day at work, Gary’s mouth was swollen and his face discolored. “What happened?” Spence asked.
“I was drinking beer,” Gary said, “and a guy said something didn’t like. So I took a swing at him.”
“Looks like the guy got the best of it,” Spence said.
“Oh, no. You ought to see him.”
“Gary, you’re on parole,” lectured Spencer McGrath. “If you’re i a bar and have a fight, they’ll throw your tail in jail. When you handle a drink, leave it alone.” .
Later that morning, Gary came over, “Spence, I thought it,” he said quietly, “and I believe you were telling me for my good. I’m going to quit drinking.”
Spencer agreed. He tried to reinforce the lecture. Suppose he, Spencer McGrath, went into a bar, had a few drinks, got fight, and the police came and threw him in jail. He would be in fix, right? But that would never be nearly as much trouble as
more got thrown in. That would be a direct violation of parole. Gary asked, “Spence, have you ever been in jail?” “Well, no,” said Spence.
Gary was expecting Nicole for lunch but when she did not up, he sat down next to Craig Taylor, the foreman. They were
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friendly enough to eat together time to time. It worked out well because Gary Liked to converse and Craig never said a word more than he had to, just flexed his big arms and shoulders.
Today, Gary began to speak of prison. Now and again he would go on about that. This may have been one of those days. Gary got around to mentioning that he knew Charles Manson.
Name-dropping, Craig decided, blinking his eyes behind his glasses. They were sipping beer, and Gary was a lot braver, Craig ob served, when he had a few beers. “In prison, I killed a guy,” said Gary. “He was black and big and I stabbed him 57 times. Then I propped him up on his bunk, crossed his legs, put his baseball cap on his head, and stuck a cigarette in his mouth.”
Craig noticed Gary was taking pills. A white downer. Called it Fiorinal. He offered one to Craig, who refused it. Those pills didn’t seem to make much difference in Gilmore’s personality. He was sure keyed-up.
Nicole came in just as they were done eating. As soon as she and Gary started talking, Craig could see they looked upset. They were squeezing each other’s hands, and gave each other a big kiss and said goodbye. The kiss was Gary’s way of showing he had a beautiful chick and everybody better know it, so Craig wasn’t impressed by that. But the squeezing of hands looked different. Afterward, Gary acted odd all afternoon.
Craig sent him out in a two-ton truck with a kid also named Gary, an 18-year-old, Gary Weston. They were on a job to insulate a house, and had to blow a plastic coat into the walls, then the insulat-hag material. Dry work for the nostrils. Somewhere along, Gary dropped into a store, lifted a six-pack, and began drinking on the job.