Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [374]
Nonetheless, the real question to Mikal was whether both sides did not wish to use Gary. Giauque had not said it, maybe-to do the man justice-he had not even thought it, but one logical conclusion you could take from his remarks was that people opposed to capital punishment would work to stop the execution, even if it brought on Gary's suicide. That way, at least, the State would be deprived of its body. Mikal did not know how to think this through. He recognized that he would have to stay a little longer in Salt Lake, and try to visit Gary again.
Later, he called Vern to find out if Moody and Stanger were available and learned that they could not meet him that night. Schiller, however, was flying in from Los Angeles and willing to talk, wanted to.
Larry didn't get to the hotel until midnight. There, in the lobby of the Hilton, a young fellow, somewhat taller than average, came over and introduced himself. Schiller was surprised. This young brother had long hair and was somewhat delicate and looked like an intellectual.
He was wearing slacks and a sweater and had a small pliable plastic briefcase under his arm. Was ready to talk right there in the middle of the lobby. After they sat down, one of the first things Mikal said was, "I have a lot of questions I want to ask," and he started taking notes even as Schiller embarked on the ten-minute version of the speech. Before it was over, something in the note-taking made Larry uneasy, and he joked, "With all the stuff you're taking down, you might have a book." Only weeks later did Schiller find out that Mikal was indeed writing an article for Rolling Stone.
There was a family resemblance, but Schiller found it hard to believe that Mikal was related to Gary. He had a very soft voice, a very calm young man with thin hands, very pleasant manner, considering the intensity of the situation, and he sat most properly in his place, not leaning back or putting his feet up, but forever taking papers out of his briefcase, consulting his notes, then replacing them. He seemed academic to Schiller. If not for the long hair he would have looked like a thin scholarly Mormon, one of the more prissy BYU kids.
It was only when Mikal began to talk about himself that Schiller got it. Having to decide whether to go ahead with Amsterdam and Giauque was heavy shit. The boy wasn't in tears, but it was obvious he was feeling shaky.
Then, out of the blue, no preparation, zap! like Gary Gilmore, Mikal asked: Would Schiller rather see Gary dead, or alive? There it lay, the key question. Schiller looked Mikal in the eye and said, "I'm here to record history, not to make it." Mikal took down this answer, and asked more questions. He was not a very sharp or persistent questioner, Larry decided, just accepted Schiller's answers, did not persist, did not pursue, did not challenge. Just wrote it down, then looked at the page as if studying his own handwriting. It was late at night and Schiller was awfully tired. He had flown to L.A. that day and come back, and now he was wondering why Mikal wanted to see him rather than Vern or Ida or anyone else. "Do you intend to speak to the Damicos?" he asked. "I'm here," Mikal said, "to talk to Gary, and make the decision." There was, Schiller decided, no feeling of warmth in the man, or rapport. It was a cold meeting. "Why are you taking notes?" Schiller asked at last.
Mikal replied, "So I can analyze what you're saying."
Nevertheless, they agreed to contact one another again, and to keep secret their conversations. After Schiller dropped Mikal at his hotel, he went down the Interstate to Orem with the feeling that the evening had been a breakthrough. Mikal might have been distrustful, but Schiller felt their next meeting would take a turn for the good.
Through Mikal, he could get a glimpse of Gilmore's