Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [453]
He had been there four hours. Then the fellow from Walker Mortuary came over, and they put Gilmore on a rollaway-type bed with sheets covering him and a nice blanket over the top, and scooted him out to the street and loaded him in a hearse where they took him over to the Shriner Crematorium in Salt Lake. Maybe because of the four hours it took, there was no crowd waiting outside the hospital, and although they had two other police to meet them when they arrived, no crowd was at the crematorium either.
Since the coffin would be incinerated with the body, they had only a welfare-type casket waiting. It was made of plywood, although covered in maroon velvet, and it had silver rails on the side, and nice white satin on the inside, plus a real nice satin pillow. It was better than just a plain wood box, although nowhere near one of the fancy metal jobs.
Among Jerry Scott's orders this day was to make sure the right guy was being burned. So, just before they put the casket into the furnace, he lifted the sheet to verify Gary's face. Then they lifted the big oven door they had slammed down earlier to protect against the four-foot flame that shot out during the preheating, and inserted the box and body. Once it was in the kiln, and burning for a few minutes, they opened the door another time for Jerry, and the guy who ran the place took a long poker and knocked off the head of the casket. Then they stared through a furnace hole about fourteen inches by fourteen through which Jerry Scott could see Gary's head. Already the scalp was burning and the skin was falling off to the side.
Scott could see Gary's face going, and the top flesh blacken and disappear. Then the muscle began to bum, and Gilmore's arms which had been folded on his chest came up from the tightening, and lifted until the fingers of both hands were pointing at the sky.
That was the very last recognition Jerry Scott had of him. He kept this picture in his head all the while the body was burning, and that was plenty of time, for he had gone to the furnace at two-thirty, and the work wasn't done until five when there was nothing left but a bit of ash and the char of the bones.
A couple of waitresses, friends of Toni Gurney, who worked at The Stirrup, came over to the place before the evening shift to sit at the bar. It was a large, dark cocktail lounge with a dance floor and, of course, being Utah, you had to buy a membership in the club to get your drink, but that was not too difficult. The Stirrup was lively in the evenings, and one of the few nice places between Provo and Salt Lake where you could drink and dance. Now, however, being afternoon, it was quiet, and only a couple of people were there in the half dark.
One of these friends, named Wiila Brant, asked Alice Anders, the hostess, who the three guys were sitting in the lounge, for they were certainly new. Alice replied they were some of Gary's executioners.
"How do you know?" asked Willa. The hostess replied, "Well, I signed them in. They're members of the Pronghorn Club in Salt Lake, and we honor that membership." Willa went to get a pack of cigarettes, and made a point of passing their table. One of the men said, "Why don't you sit down and talk to us?"
They were sitting there drinking and playing liar's poker with dollar bills. After Willa took a seat they played only a little while before one of the men said, "I bet you think we are bloodthirsty bastards, don't you?"
"Well," said Willa, "it had to be done. That was what Gary wanted." She left it at that. Didn't say she knew Toni Gurney and the rest of the family. Then the executioner said, "Want to see something sadistic?" He showed her a strap of webbing, and the slug of a bullet, and he said, "This is one of the bullets that killed Gary, and this is one of the nylon straps that was holding his arm." Asked if she wanted to touch them, Willa said, "No," but couldn't help herself. She did it with a slight smirk on her face. Then he put them back in his pocket.
Another one at the table now said he had the hood out