Billy was
still crying
and shaking when
he
was taken to the prison barber, he had to be held still in the
chair
as the bar
ber man made sure all his hair was
gone
and the electricity would have no distraction.
The February
eve was starting,
Thursday was fading.
Billy sits alone in his
cell,
food had
come
and now
was
gone. Preacher Man
Sam
had vanished
nights
ago, only Dil Martin was spared from the footsteps in
the
night.
New
faces set in the dark.
The
cellblock
door
clanks open, footsteps come and stop at
Billy's
cell. Guard
Ed
Welte
and
Warden Casey
Herman
stand
at Billy's cell bars,
the warden speaks.
"How
ya
Billy looks up, then looks
back
down.
Warden
Casey
Herman
speaks slowly and softly.
"Billy
Lee Turner, it's
my regret,
but
duty
here, to
infonn you
t hat there has
been no stay of your execution.
Therefore, unless we receive
word from the Governor, the
State
of
Missis
sippi
is prepared to
go forth with
the
scheduled execution one
minu te
after
torno1Tow's
midn ight. Ya be removed from your cell at precisely eleven
P.M.
and
taken to
the
holdi ng
('ell.
You may
and as
I
understand
you will
hav
e
in
y
our
presence
Chap
lain Wilson Wagner.
You'll
remain in
your
holdi ng
cell
until
eleven-fifty-five, at which
time
you'll be
taken from
your
hold ing
ce
ll
to the
execution room. Chaplain Wagner
wi ll be
able
to accom pany
you.
A t t he precise moment
of one
minute past
B I L L Y
I 197
twelve o'clock, the State of Mississippi will
carry
out its death warrant. I understand
your
burial arrangements have
been
taken care of by Attorney Wilbur Braxton of Banes County."
Warden Casey Herman sighs as he finishes his duty
and
looks down at Billy sitting and
staring
at the floor.
Warden Casey Herman has one more thing to say. "Billy, son, I'm sorry."
Night comes quickly after the eve but not before Dil Martin shouts out of his dark,
"Hey,
boy,
ya gonna
bum tomorrow,
ya
want ta come down here and
spend ya
last night
with
Dil Martin? Give me a good old mouth job?
Ah
bet
ya can
really give one, can't ya? Hey, boy, ya hear Dil talkin ta
ya?
Hee
. . . hee . . . hee . . ."
"Shut
the fuck up, asshole. Let the boy be," Rufus Hays shouts, he is a new face that waits.
Billy climbs under his blanket and closes his
eyes so
he
can
see Cinder.
The last day of February fell, its first-light hour broke open the day. Except for a few dogs
chasing cats
and howling, Banes streets were empty and silent, but Sheriff Tom
sits
at his desk scribblin. He had
spent
the night at the jail, the two prisoners downstairs
were
not to be trusted. The
sheriff
scrib bled and waited for the day to hurry along and bring Deput
y
Hill with it, so he could go home for a while. When the streets were a little lighter, Deputy Hill
came
in.
"Momin, Sheriff. Get any sleep?"
The sheriff mumbles
somethin and
keeps
scribbli ng,
doesn't say nothing Depu ty Hill
can
under
s
tand. Depu ty Hill pours a cup of coffee and
comes
over to the
sheriff 's
desk
and
says, "Well, Ah guess i t's that boy's last day. Change
your
mind about goin up?"
19/l I Albert Fre11cli
The sheriff
shakes
his head no and glances at his watch, then says, "I'm
gonna
get oulla here. Be back in two or
three
hou rs. Get th
e
m lwo
somethin
from the Rosey Gray, and watch
em,
th
ey
think th
ey'
re
slick."
Sheriff
Tom l
eaves
the office
and
heads home. Ely Hampton h
ad
asked
him to rid
e
up with him for th
e
execu
tion, but he told Ely Hampton no.
Deputy Hill
sits
behind the
sheriff 's
desk wi th his cup
of
co
ffee, he looks down at the
scribb
led-up
desk pad and won ders if the
sheriff slept
at all. Most
of
the time, the
sheriff's
sc
ribblings wa
s
nothin more than zigs-and-zags pencil marks,
or scratchy-wri tten
names, n
eve
r
words
that made s
e
nse to him, unless it was the name of
some
fugitive. Deputy Hill didn't fully understand what the
sheriff
meant by the scrib bling he left. The
words
were
scratchy,
but h
e
could
see the
y
said, "better
way
of
li
v
ing or d
yi
n
g
somewhere."
Doctor H
e
nry
P.
Grey was woke,
but not out
of
hi
s
bed
ye
t
,
his
wife was
ju
s
t
awaking. When
s
h
e ope
n
e
d h
er eyes, s
h
e
noti
ce
d h
e was a
lr
ea
d
y
wide
awa
k
e
and asked
if h
e
had
s
l
e
pt
well or
at all. H
e'd
b
ee
n qu
ie
t in his
thoughts
t he
eve
befor
e
and
s
h
e'
d
asked
if h
e
was
troubl
ed
about
th
e exec
ution. H
e
had
said
yes.
H
e'd
said
h
e
n
ever co
uld
ge
t u
se
d to
folks
tak in
g
what
h
e s
p
e
nt
all
hi
s
li
fe
k
eepi
n
g
and
car
in
g
for.
Ban
es'
morni ng was
ge
ttin
g
brighter. Fred Sneed
co
m
es
out
Lo
sit
in
its
s
un
,
D
ex
t
er
Clayton
a
nd
J. J.
Gates
w
e
r
e
n
'
t too
far
behi nd him.
After
th
e
ir
"Good
m
o
rnin
"
and
th
e
ir
s
hiftin their
sittin
stoo
l
s
around
to
ge
t in
or out of
th
e s
u n
,
it
wasn't
to
o
long
after
th
a
t th
ey go
t t
o
L
a
l kin.
It
was quiet for a
mom
e
nt
un til
J. J.
Gates
says,
"Well, A h
sti
ll
s
ay han
g
in b
es
t. It b
ee
n don
e
b
ac
k when it happ
e
n
ed,
r
es
t
of
th
e
ni
gge
r
s
know
r
i
g
ht th
e
n
,
b
y
thi
s
ti m
e
a
ni
gger
forg
e
t
s
.
"
B I L L
y
I 199
Fred Sneed looks J
.
J.
Gates right m th
e ey
e and sa
ys,
"Hangin's too good for em. Ought ta do what them boys do
w
n in Greene did when th
e
y caught that one crazy nigger do
w
n there, hog-gut him good, that's what they did. Hog-gut him good, then hung him up in their nigger nest over there fo
r
them oth niggers ta see, that
'
s the way it ought ta be done
.
Do it like that, a nigger can understand. A nigger ain't for
ge
t it that way."
Dexter Clayton yawns, spits a little tobacco juice
,
then says, "Well, gots one thing for sur
e,
that nigger ain
'
t goin ta be alive this time tomorrow."
Ely Hampton is over at Hanner's cuttin
s
hop.
"What time ya leavin ta go up, El
y
?
"
Mi
s
ter Hanner a
s
k
s
as talk gets to the execution.
"Ah reckon about five will get us there in pl
e
nty tim
e
.
"
"Ya know, I still say folks got a right to s
e
e. Ought ta make
-
it public again and have it right there where they did th
e
crime. That way, niggers and anybody else got killin on their mind can see what they got comin, that
'
s what I say," Mi
s
t
er
Hanner says, and looks around the shop for approval from hi
s
other two waiting customers.
Ely Hampton says quickly, "Can't say I disagree, can't sa
y
I do, but that's the law now."
Jay Vasser, he's next to get his hair cut
,
a
s
ks, "What tim
e
the
y
goin ta do the killin?"
''Twelv
e
pre
c
isel y. Ward
e
n Herman up th
e
r
e
i
s
a
g
ood m
a
n
,
runs things by the book. Good ord
e
rl
y
man,
"
say
s
El
y
Hampton.
Jay Vasser leans ba
c
k in his chair and says, "Ah
s
ur
e
would like to see it myself."
Helen Mark
s
is excited abou t h
e
r trip
,
sh
e'
s told h
e
r fam il
y
she will hav
e
her own hot
e
l room and will h
e
lp writ
e
th
e
bi
g
200 I Albert Fre11ch
story. She comes into the newspaper office early so her and Harvey Jakes can get a good start on the road, and get there in time to get good rooms and supper. She's been teasing Har
vey Jakes about his professional manners he shows. "You
'
re so proper all the time," she says as Harvey Jakes checks his last-minute details for the trip.
"Helen, I just want to make sure I have all the clips on the story so far, and have my credentials in order. I don't want any last-minute problems."
"Oh, Mister Jakes, you'll write the best story up there, I know you will," Helen Marks says with a smile on her face
,
then asks, "Mister Jakes, you ever see somebody die befor
e
? What's
it
like?"