They say the number one cause of death on Death row is old age. Not me, I die next Tuesday. On Tuesday November 24, 2009 I will become the fourteenth person in the State of California to be executed. And to think my whole life no one said I was special. They will bring me into a small room with a padded bed which resembles a cross. A fitting symbol for a life filled with sin I guess. They will tie me down with leather straps-like an animal, in case I try to escape. But my fantasies about escape and the outside world died a long time ago. I will lie there and receive my retribution. Next to the bed there is a heart monitor, only this time the doctors are using to make sure that my heart stops. Even in the end life is full of irony. Then the government approved three part cocktail of Sodium penothal, Pancuronium bromide, and Potassium chloride, will be delivered via injection.
“I die next Tuesday”, I say out loud. I say it to make the words relay to my mind the gravity of my situation. But how does one prepare for death? I gave up on God a long time ago, I wonder if he gave up on me? - The warden enters to come and check up on me. To make sure I don’t expedite the process of death and, and take matters into my own hands.-He needn’t bother I’ve accepted my fate. Everyone has to die sometime, I’m just fortunate enough to know the day and hour. The warden walks by again. He’s probably the closest thing I’ve ever had to a friend. And all the bastard does is come by and talk. But that’s enough for me. He’s young and I will be his first execution. He’s nervous, strange it seems since he’s on the other side of the bars.
Warden: So . . . . (Pause) Can I get you something?
Clarence: What are you now? My god damn servant?-Yet I want something. Get me your finest Fee-lay-Meen-Yon, and Halle Berry’s fine ass.
Warden: You don’t have to be a dick about it I just figured a man…. in your position might want some…..some comforts that’s all.
Clarence: Warden, now you’re talking like a bitch. I’m in this position because of me! Ain’t no one else to blame but me. Didn’t no God make me do it! Ain’t no little voices in my head, just me!
Warden: I’m not saying anything to the contrary. (Pause)
Warden: So can I ask you something?
Clarence: You are anyways so you might as well
Warden: So …are you scared?
Clarence: Scared? What the fuck kind of question is that?
Warden: I don’t know. This is my first execution… I’ve never seen a man die.
Clarence: (After a long pause) you know how long I’ve been here Warden?
Warden: 25 years according to your case file
Clarence: I’m 75 years old, I’ve been incarcerated the majority of my life. Part of me is scared shitless. Part of me realizes that life is just one chance and I fucked it up. And that the fact that after Tuesday I will never see or know anything about the world from then and forever is…. Well it’s fucking bullshit!
Warden: God will be there for …
Clarence: I don’t believe in no GOD! I know there ain’t no heaven and hell! I know all I got waiting for me on the other side is a pile of dirt and hunk of marble with my name on it! Don’t you try to feed me that bull shit about God now!
Warden: I…I didn’t mean to upset you.
Clarence: But…But the other part of me is ready. From now until Tuesday I’m gonna sleep peacefully for the first time in years. From now until Tuesday a part of me knows that I will finally be free. Because from now until Tuesday NOTHING matters.
“About half way through your life you are smart enough to see that it all amounts to nothing”
Warden: But what of your soul?
Clarence: My soul died a long time ago…
Facts:
California has only executed 13 inmates since 1976.
The last inmate to be executed was Clarence Allen on January 16, 2006. On a Tuesday.
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Its a little choppy but you get the idea
ReplyDeleteYour first paragraph really grabs the reader and pulls them into your story. "I die next tuesday" is a great line. It's a very powerful idea, where this man is so content with knowing the day he dies.
ReplyDeleteI like how your story was told from the perspective of someone that most of our society scorn or have no time for--a deathrow inmate. Most people don't even want to attempt to get into an inmates head for fear of what they might end up thinking, but you went ahead and did it. It was refreshing and honest at the same time. Aside from that, I like how you incorporated Lydia Davis's line about being nothing. It fit perfectly into the story, and, had I not read Davis's "New Year's Resolution," I would have thought you'd come up with it yourself. Nicely done.
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