Harvey Jakes is silent for a moment and continues to pick at the papers on his desk, then sighs and says, "No, I've seen a lot of dead folks, but I c
a
n't say I've seen somebody di
e
." Helen Marks lowers her eyes, th
e
n looks up without her smile and asks, "Mister Jakes, I wond
er
what it's like. I
mean, I wonder what it's really like to be electrocuted.
"
At the far end of Dillion Street
,
and off to its side, Pete Grayson sits quietly at his breakfast table with his wife and daughter, Kelly. He has talked l
e
s
s
than usual and ke
e
p
s
looking away from the table to the windo
w.
His wife, Holl
y
, asks, "Ya got that rheumatism up again
?
I
t
old ya to be mor
e
careful with this weather."
Pete Grayson remains qui
e
t, but turns ba
c
k t
o
th
e
tabl
e.
His daughter, Kelly
,
stops
e
ating and stares at h
e
r fath
e
r with that piercing look she can get and a
s
k
s, "
Daddy, what's wrong with you?"
"Ah wish you two'd
s
top frettin bout nothin," Pete Gra
y
son says qu ickly, but the thoughts in his mind do not mov
e
. H
e
keeps seeing long-ago hot n ights down b
y
the Catfish bridg
e
,
B l L L
y
I 201
sees Alma sneaking through the tall grass and coming to him. Alma
had
cried when she told him of the
child
she was
carry
ing, his child. Now it
is
his other daughter, Cinder, he thinks of without having any
words
to put on his feeling. He has for bidden such words to
enter
his mind, bu t the feelings keep seeping
through.
Harvey Jakes' paper had alerted the land. Its headline, "KILLER BOY TO DIE," sent the word afar.
Jenny
Curran takes her time eating breakfast, her mother does not hurry her anymore. Some of her nights are
still
with screams, in
school
her classmates made u p a jingle and
chant
it in the schoolyard in their play, she hears it now as she
eats,
hears them chanting:
Lori's killer goin to die, I'll be glad when he fries.
Red Pasko and his
son
David are ready, they will leave at six o'clock, watch, and then come back through the night. Kevin wanted to go, but the State only permits two from a vic tim's family to witness executions of off
enders.
The you ngest child, Roy, wants to go too.
Ginger Pasko is smiing clothes for her
wash,
she's alread
y
done all the dishes
she could
find to
wash,
cleaned
every
thing that had a
speck
of dust. Lori's been dead
six
months, but
sometimes, even
during the day,
she stil
l
sees
her daugh ter, sometimes
she sees
h
er
dart by the window when
she's
washing dishes, sees the red of her hai r
go
by, but when
she
look
s
up it is only the open fields
she sees
and all her
empty
days come crashing back into her m ind.
Megan Braxton
sits
wi th her father.
If
he had
slept,
r
es
t d id not stay on his face.
He
was older than
she'd ever seen
him
,
202
I
Albert Fre11cli
she curses
t he day Judge Harper
called
upon him to defend
the
undefendable.
She could say
nothing that would take his mind from this day. He had taken the spit from angry Banes folks, taken their "nigger-lover" slurs. His appeals failed one
after
the
other,
Supreme Mississippi Judges just shook their heads, Mississippi's Governor
said
"No" but he'd think about it and if he changed his mind he'd call it
off.
Wilbur Braxton had told Cinder, "I'll keep on trying."
Megan had pleaded with her father to let her go with him, she
could
wait in the car or in the
small
town nearby, but he'd
said
no. Now she is asking again.
"Daddy,
I know
you've
said no and I know why, but
I'd
really like to be there
wit h you.
Please reconsider," she asks
as
diplomatically as
she
was taught.
Wilbur Braxton looks up from his desk in his home office
and smiles,
then
says,
"J
truly
appreciate what you're asking
and giving, you've grown
so
much,
you
have in
so
many ways become the mother
you
never knew. You are like her
so
much." Wilbur Braxton pa uses,
smiles,
looks at his daughter standing with
the
poise he
admires so
m uch,
then says, "But,
dear, you
cannot
ask me to let my
ch ildren do
for me
things
that
you would never
let
your children
do
for you."
Megan understands.
She gives
her
father what she
thought he needed most,
she hugs
him.
In the
southern
ti p of
Greene County sits
Ogin
State
Prison Farm and Boys Reformatory,
boys
twelve
to fifteen
are housed there until
they
are
old enough
to
be
transferred across the road to
the
adult camp. Ely
Hampton had
allowed
Gumpy to plead guilty to
second-degree
murder,
for
which he
go
t
a twenty-year sentence. Ely Hampton had
considered
the
testi mony of Jenny Curran that Gumpy ran from the
scene
before
th
e
murder occun-ed. He also took
into
account that
Gumpy
B I L L
y
I 203
would, as he did in his
confession,
name Billy
as
the kille
r
and also, if need be,
would
testify that Billy had pulled
the
same knife on him.
All the boys at Ogin knew about Billy Lee Turner, man
y
had been told they too
could end
up like Billy Lee Turner. They all knew the State was
going
to take Billy Lee Turner's life away from him at midnight tonight.
Gumpy worked in the
camp's
dairy-farm barn, it was
stall
muckin time and he was hard at work.
All
morning he'd
seen
Billy's face, with and
without
the
scratches,
with
and without
his smile, with and without the dark
cellblock shadows across
it, then he'd see the train trestle where the Memphis
train came
rollin across, then he'd
see
the
pond
with its
still,
greenish water, then
the
girls would
co
me runnin into
his
thoughts.
Then he would run from Billy
again.
Wallace Hale is a man most folks say never
s
miles, just
grins sometimes.
Hattiesburg Prison gate guards
see
Wallace Hal
e's
dusty green Packard
coming
and open the gate. Wallace Hale
slows
his
car,
then
stops
it to
give
his
greeti ng, which was
never much more tha n a nod.
"A
little early, ain't
ya?"
the gate
guard asks
with
a smile. "Yeah,
got
some adjustments
to make
,"
Wallace
Hale
says
with his polite
grin on
his face, then drives
on slowly
to the
Death House.
Wallace Hale has reasons for his
concern about adjust
ments he has to make
.
He is the
executioner,
it's his job to make sure the
condemned
man is put lo
death as
quick
and
humanely as the worki ngs of the
chair allowed.
Most
condem ned
men were
of
the
average
h
e
ight
and
weight, some, like Jimmy Johnson and Preacher Man
Sam,
204
I
Albert
f'rc11c/1
were
ex
t r
emely
large or tall men,
six
foot two or more. Hattiesburg's was a big
chair
an
man.
The new faces in
cellblock
ni ne are sitting
in
their cells and passi ng thei r morni ng away. Dil Marti n was yelli n up and down the
cellblock,
ut now sits quietly, smiling at
the
silence.
Billy sits on his col with one of the picture books
he
has. From moment to moment, his eyes glance from the white pages to the dark-shadowed
cracks
in the cell floor. Dil Mar ti n has told him, "Hey, boy, they gonna burn yer ass till ain't nothin left but a puff of black smoke."
Billy can see the
chair
in his mind, sees it with fire coming out of it, sees it with Sack Man sittin in
it
with red-hot flames burnin him up. Sometimes he
can see
Jesus waiting for him, but most of the time he just
sees
hisself on fire till he dies. Noon hour
comes
and brings Wilson Wagner. Guard Russell Vent lets the
Chaplain
into Billy's
cell,
and now he
sits with
Billy on his
cot.
Billy's quiet, not just in words and sounds, but his movements are
still
too. Wilson Wagner
sits
with him a long time before he
speaks.
"Billy,
ya
must remember there is always hope. The Gov
ernor
may
call, ya
know he
can call
anytime. Remember what faith is. Ya remember?" Wilson Wagner
whispers
into Billy's
silence.
"Ah
ain't wants
ta be
burns
tills
Ah on
fire." Billys
voice
trembles
as
he begins to quiver.
Wilson Wagner is
silent.
"Theys burn ya till nothin be left, thens
ya
all dead."'
Wilson Wagner speaks quickly, his words
come
strong, but gentle.
"Billy,
Jesus
will
be with
ya
,
son."
"He
catch on
fire too."
B J L L
y
I 205
"There's no fire, Bill
y
. Ya won't catch on fire
,
son.
It
won
'
t hurt. Jesus will be with you, nothin can hurt Jesus. Ya kno
w
that, and He's not goin to let anything hurt
y
ou. Ya know that. He loves you. Let's read now, let's read about Jesus," Wilson Wagner's voice is pleading. Now he hurries to open his Bible.
Billy sits listening to the rhythm of Wilson Wagner's word
s
of his Jesus, they soothe his thoughts until he sees the fire
s
again and turns away with tears.
The day's sky fades into evening gra
y
. Food time
c
ome
s,
the ceremonial last supper just a
c
and
y
bar and a littl
e
milk. Billy lets the hot chicken go without a touch.
He can't see the window from his cell
,
but knows from ho
w
the shadows fall that nighttime's come, it
's
dark outside. Wil son Wagner knows the hours are few.
"Billy, is there an
y
thing ya want me to tell your mother
?
I'm going to see her, you know," Wil
s
on Wagner had to
as
k.
Billy sees Cinder and starts to cry
, s
a
y
ing, "She can
'
t
g
it me. She won'ts come git me, she won't
c
om
e
."