Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [308]
There was a convict out in the midwest named Ed Barney. Gary got a letter from him one day and told Vern he'd known the guy at Oregon State. They'd put a lot of time in Segregation together. "Ed Barney is a great guy," said Gary. "One of my very best and dearest friends. I want you to give him a thousand dollars." Vern thought Gary was talking like his mother. When Vern first knew her, Bessie could never describe a good-looking man or woman without getting carried away by the power of the description. At the end she would always say, "That was the best-looking man I ever saw." Or, best-looking woman. Must have described a hundred people that way.
Gary was the same about friends. Today, Sterling was the best friend he ever had. Yesterday, LeRoy Earp, or Vince Capitano, or Steve Kessler, or John Mills or many another prison buddy Vern couldn't even keep in mind. Tomorrow you knew another fellow would be nominated. Gibbs, probably. So, Vern decided to hold on to the award to Ed Barney. With the way they kept delaying his execution, Gary would be broke before he knew it. A few thousand dollars could buy him a lot of comfort in prison.
Vern did, however, have to give $2,000 to Gibbs. Gary was insistent.
Then, there was another fellow named Fungoo. Gary said he'd hurt the man's feelings something awful with a tattoo he had drawn once. He wanted to give him a sum. Vern had a hell of an argument.
Finally talked him out of that.
Then there was the mystery recipient. A particular fellow was to receive a total of $5,000 in two equal installments. Vern was to meet him on the street corner and hand over $2,500. Gary said he wanted the job done without argument. Vern had a pretty good idea what was up. He finally had a meeting with the fellow, and gave over the money in a restaurant, hated the idea. A wanton waste. Was glad when Gary never paid the second installment.
Now, on his birthday, Gary wanted to give $500 to Margie Quinn. "Margie Quinn?" asked Vern. "You know," said Gary, "that nice little girl Ida introduced me to." "Well, why do you want to give her $500?" asked Vern. "Well," said Gary, mimicking the way Vern said "well," which was always very soft as if he wanted to draw you close, "well, I happened to break the windshield on her car."
Vern wasn't too surprised. "I thought you did, you dirty bugger," he said. He remembered how Margie Quinn's mother had asked him months ago if Gary had done it, and Vern replied, "I don't know. He may have." That was $500 he didn't mind paying.
From time to time, Gary would say, "See that my mother is taken care of," yet he didn't talk of real money. It seemed to Vern that Gary wanted to believe his mother did love him a great deal and worked with the evidence pro and con. Yet he must have kept turning on that evidence, for he sure was acting stingy toward her. Vern actually had to say, "You can't give $3,000 to your babysitter when your mother is living without money." "All right," Gary answered, "cut it down. Take a thousand off. Give that to my ma." Then he would hesitate.
"But don't mail it," he would say, "you and Aunt Ida fly down and give it to her in person." Vern couldn't understand. If Gary was afraid somebody might rip it off, he could have a bank in Portland deliver the thousand by special messenger. Good Lord, it would practically cost half that much for Ida and him to fly there and back.
Brenda got into the act. "Just a thousand, Gary?" she asked. "Yep," said Gary. Brenda gave her father a look to say, "No sense going further."
Vern thought Gary might be provoked at his mother because of the Supreme Court Stay, but then he recollected that even before Gary heard of Bessie's legal actions, he had never included her in the money to be given out.
On Sunday, Bob Moody and Ron Stanger were interviewed by TV people from Holland,