do this . . . if you want to go on living and raise your children, you're a famous girl, you've got a lot of money and I want to see you get a lot more, too, go ahead, baby, but don't let nobody fuck you." Now, he whispered, "Don't let nobody have you. Baby, don't, you're mine. Discipline, restraint-maybe a girl, I don't know, shit . . . I was supposed to be executed at seven forty-nine . . . I got this hymnal in front of me, you're pretty, and you got something about you, baby, that just sticks right out. Well, I know them guys got designs, they're designing motherfuckers, take advantage of opportunities. They see you, see how pretty you are, think I'm going to be dead, they want your money, they want you, there's something about you that anybody would want, I hope, God I hope, oh my God, I just fucking hope . . . man, I want you, baby." He started to cry right there. "Oh, fuck," he whispered, "I feel so bad right now. I thought I was going to be dead in a few hours . . . free to join you . . . I don't care if you want to go on living . . . you got children, I'm not telling you . . . to come out and commit suicide, I have such a hard thing to do." Now, he whispered, "I just don't want anybody to fuck you, I want you to be mine, only, only . . . only, mine. Oh, baby, I want to be fucking free of this planet . . . I gave all my money away, a hundred thousand dollars . . . I didn't want to tell you about that, I didn't want to seem like I was bragging, you got more money than I do, I just want to be honest with you, I thought they was going to kill me, the chickenshit sorry cocksuckers . . . fucking sleazy motherfuckers . . . " The words wore down. He was droning into the tape recorder, "Nicole, I don't know what's happening. Maybe we're supposed to live a little longer, listen, I took everything you gave me . . . twenty-five Seconals, ten Dalmane at midnight. I don't have to but I know so many hymns. It's a Catholic hymnal . . . the priest come out last night and said a Mass, God, nothing more boring than Mass Nicole . . . you're mine, God, I feel such power in our love . . . baby, I asked you to love me with all that you are. I miss you so fucking bad, I want only you, and I swear to God, I'll have you. I ain't going to the planet Uranus. I don't care what I have to go through, the demons I have to fight, no matter whatever I have to overcome, I'm going to make myself plain to you. I don't give a shit what I have to do, torture, suffer, how many lives, you can know if I love you tenderly and softly, wildly and rowdy, naked, wrapped around me . . . "
Vern had been watching Gary carefully. After everybody else began to sleep, Gary turned on the radio so loud it was practically offensive Then he lay down and pretended to sleep himself, but it was obvious he couldn't. A little while later, he got up, shut the radio off, milled around, glowered, looked like he might throw a punch at the wall, then tried once more to sleep.
Evelyn Gray, who was a nice lady, a slender, middle-aged lady with eyeglasses and short curled red hair like she went to the beauty parlor regularly, went up to Gary now and tried to console him.
"Gary," she said, "is there anything I can possibly do for you?" Gary looked up at her and said, "All I ever wanted was a little love." Evelyn Gray came away so touched, she had moved over into tears. "There you go," said Vern to himself. "All I ever wanted was a little love."
Earlier in the evening, when the guards brought Gary out from his cell to meet the company, they also, since he would not go back to Death Row, carried in his belongings. Those filled several cartons, and a number of plastic bags contained his mail. Now, after trying to rest for a little while, he got up and said to Vern, "I want to show you some stuff."
They sat there, side by side, while Gary went through trinkets and foreign coins. Then he asked Vern to help him in taping up a package for Nicole. They started to pick out letters and special items.
When done, Gary rearranged the cartons. He looked up at one point and said, "Vern, if they