Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [1]
Once in a while Gary would remark that having been in prison so long he felt more like the victim than the man who did the deed. Of course, he did not deny having committed a crime or two. He was always letting Brenda know he was not Charley Good Guy.
Yet after they had been sending letters for a year or more, Brenda noticed a change. Gary no longer seemed to feel he would never get out of jail. His correspondence became more hopeful. Brenda said to her husband, Johnny, one day. Well, I really think Gary's ready.
She had gotten into the habit of reading his letters to Johnny, and to her mother and father and sister. Sometimes after discussing those letters, her parents, Vern and Ida, would discuss what Brenda ought to answer, and they would feel full of concern for Gary. Her sister, Toni, often spoke of how much his drawings impressed her. There was so much sorrow in those pictures. Children with great big sad eyes.
Once Brenda asked: "How does it feel to live in your country club out there? Just what kind of world do you live in?"
He had written back:
I don't think there's any way to adequately describe this sort of life to anyone that's never experienced it. I mean, it would be totally alien to you and your way of thinking, Brenda. It's like another planet.-which words, in her living room, offered visions of the moon.
Being here is like walking up to the edge and looking over 24 hours a day for more days then you care to recall.
He finished by writing:
Above all, it's a matter of staying strong no matter what happens.
Sitting around the Christmas tree, they thought of Gary and wondered if he might be with them next year. Talked about his chances for parole. He had already asked Brenda to sponsor him, and she had replied, "If you screw up, I'll be the first against you."
Still, the family was more in favor than not. Toni, who had never written him a line, offered to be a co-sponsor. While some of Gary's notes were terribly depressed, and the one where he asked if Brenda would sponsor him had no more good feeling than a business memo, there were a few that really got to you.
Dear Brenda, Received your letter tonight and it made me feel nice. Your attitude helps restore my old soul. A place to stay and a job guarantee me an awful lot, but the fact that somebody cares, means more to the parole board. I've always been more or less alone before.
Only after the Christmas party did it come over Brenda that she was going to sponsor a man whom she hadn't seen in close to thirty years. It made her think of Toni's remark that Gary had a different face in every photograph.
Now, Johnny began to get concerned about it. He had been all for Brenda writing to Gary, but when it came down to bringing him into their family, Johnny began to have a few apprehensions. It wasn't that he was embarrassed to harbor a criminal, Johnny simply wasn't that sort of person, he just felt like there's going to be problems.
For one thing, Gary wasn't coming into an average community. He would be entering a Mormon stronghold. Things were tough enough for a man just out of prison without having to deal with people who thought drinking coffee and tea was sinful.
Nonsense, said Brenda. None of their friends were that observing. She and Johnny hardly qualified as a typical straitlaced Utah County couple.
Yes, said Johnny, but think of the atmosphere. All those super-clean BYU kids getting ready to go out as missionaries. Walking on the street could make you feel you were at a church supper. There had, said Johnny, to be tension.
Brenda hadn't been married to Johnny for eleven years without coming to know that her husband was the type for peace at any price. No waves in his life if he could help it. Brenda wouldn't say she looked for trouble, but a few waves kept life interesting. So Brenda