Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [149]
Sometimes, the doctor who seemed to be the head guy around the ward, a fellow named Dr. Woods, would ask her into his office. He would talk about her feeling that she was to blame for Gary's acts. Nicole would wonder if the posse had reported what she said to Gary. Anyway, Woods would try to tell her that she didn't have to keep that thought in her head. Gary was a complex individual, and not the sort to say, I care for Nicole, so I'm going to kill somebody.
Nicole would listen. Dr. Woods had the power to say Gary was insane, and then they wouldn't give him the death penalty. In fact, if Gary could get to a mental hospital, he might be able to escape. So she wasn't going to insult the doctor. Still, he was the weirdest for a psychiatrist. He was tall and very well built, and looked like Robert Redford in Downhill Racer, except he was maybe better looking and maybe even bigger-he was one of the best-looking men Nicole had ever seen. Yet she thought he was kind of wimpy in his manner and never came down hard on one side or the other. She certainly felt funny talking to handsome Dr. Woods, when she was horny as hell from being with Gary and the posse.
She would leave John Woods's office and hitch a ride, and the World that was outside Gary and herself would come slowly back to her, and she would feel a little less like a space ship, and begin to think of supper for the kids, and annoyance that her car was on the blink, and Barrett had not yet fixed it. Her problems would start living again, and so by the time she got home, it would be truly weird to find a letter from Gary describing the very nuthouse she had just seen him at. It was like waking up from a dream to answer a knock on the door but the knock came from the person you had just kissed in the dream.
5
August 10
A posse member's supervising me because I have a pencil-they broke it in half then tore the eraser out-I asked them what the fuck that was for and they told me so that I wouldn't stab anybody. Unbelievable! . . .
Nicole, what the fuck kind of journey am I on?
Three nuts are having an argument outside my door because one of them emptied my urinal an hour ago and forgot to chart it. The first loony is accusing the second loony of gross negligence and dereliction of duty in his failure to properly chart on the log hanging outside my door the time of day that he emptied my urinal. The third loony is bouncing from foot to foot trying to get a word in edgewise. The second loony is becoming quite excited and is trying to appeal to me to settle this national disaster. I don't know what the fuck to say but I'd hate to see this poor buffoon lose his T.V. privileges or something-he' s the same chap who sat so patiently outside my door the other day while I wrote a letter-so I tell 'em "Hey, it's okay man, everything is really cool, this guy is on the ball. Didn't spill a drop and brought that urinal back clean as a whistle!" Now they don't know what to say but it appears to have settled the argument. They're getting a pen to make the required chart entry.
Oh, Nicole, I'm so lonesome. I miss the life we had. I miss being in the same bed with you, holding your pretty face in my hands looking into your charming alarming eyes. Coming home to you at nite-how slowly the days went when I was at work!
God, Nicole! You're the most important person in the world.
I remember one time when we were fucking and we were really bucking up against each other. Hard. Wild. How I'd love to do that.
August 14
The drinking fountain is across from my cell and it is really funny the way some of these guys drink water. This one dude sucks up the water for 2 or 3 minutes at a time! He 'bout got in a fight cause of it yesterday-this other cat got impatient, pushed him and said, "You don't need to drink so long." Another dude really slurps, I've never heard anything like it, he sounds like a sump pump. A truly startling noise.