freezes your brain and gives you a headache. I'll miss carnivals and amusement parks, state fairs. I'll miss the Gravitron and the Tilt-A-Whirl, the Zipper and the Whip, the Spider and the Roundup, the Roll-O-Plane. I'll miss how your stomach jumps when you go over the top of the Ferris wheel. I'll miss tunnel cakes and roasted corn, Fried pies and turkey legs, Sno-Kones. I'll miss driving. Ill miss sticking my hand out the window and feeling how heavy the air is.
I already miss a lot. I miss Lamont's belly and how he used to leave a dab of shaving cream behind each ear. I miss our place, our bed —our Roadrunner, obviously.
Weather. Movies.
I don't know, everything. It's a bad question to ask right now. Just say I'll miss living.
18
I feel remorse for my crimes, the ones I did commit, and I feel remorse tor the lite I was living then. If I could change any one thing, it would be the drinking. That put me on the road to a lot of the other problems.
It's easy to blame other people or circumstances, but I won't. I liked to drink, it's that simple. I liked sitting in the booth at the Conoco and taking a tug of vodka whenever I felt like it. You'd feel it glide warm into you and everything was right. Outside, lights slid by all sparkly when it rained. Inside, all the cigarettes were in rows, all the gum and Life Savers. The heater felt good on your shins, and you'd watch the traffic at the light, everyone in a hurry to get somewhere and the rain coming down, the wipers going. It made you laugh and take another sip. It made you wish your life could just stay that way.
That was the problem —you were always trying to get back there, to that same place. And you were always ready to try. Between Garlyn, Joy and me, one of us always had something going on. We had good times, the three of us, but I look back and wonder if they were worth it. The last time I saw Garlyn she was living in her mother's basement and working at Pantho's Mexican Buffet. We were there for dinner; Gainey was throwing his spoon all over the place and finally spilled his water. She had three stitches in her lip from falling down the cellar stairs. I asked if she was still seeing Danny, because he used to hit her. She was. She said Joy had just gotten fired from the County Line for dumping a platter of hot links on a customer. We laughed because it was just like Joy. That was ten years ago. I don't know what's happened to either of them since.
19
I'd like to say I'm sorry to all the relatives of the Closes, Victor Nunez, Kim Zwillich, Reggie Tyler, Donald . . .
Anderson — Donald Anderson. He was the manager.
I'm sorry, I do remember them, I just can't remember all eight at the same time. Five men and three women, I know that. I'm missing one of each.
What I'd like to say to their families is that I pray for every one of them each and every day. Mr. Jefferies said that Mrs. Nunez wanted to be here tonight. I wanted to invite her, but the state wouldn't let me. I wish she could come. I wish they all could. I'm sure they're outside right now. If that makes the loss of their loved ones easier on them, then fine. In the paper the other day, Mrs. Nunez said she hoped it would be painful, and that I should be killed the same way her son was. I did not kill Victor Nunez. I'd also say that what Natalie did to Kim Zwillich was worse, but I haven't heard her parents complaining in the paper.
Margo Styles. She was the one at the drive-thru window. So there's one more.
What do you say to someone in this situation? I'm sorry isn't good enough. That I'm going to die isn't good enough. I wanted to make a public apology a few years ago, but Mr. Jefferies warned me against it. Forget it, he said, you cant win. All you're going to get for it is grief.
The cop. Sergeant Lloyd Red Deer. He was the reason Mr. Jefferies moved the trial to Oklahoma. New Mexico's still ticked off about that. Mr. Jefferies said that if he weren't a cop, I might have gotten off with life.
I already miss a lot. I miss Lamont's belly and how he used to leave a dab of shaving cream behind each ear. I miss our place, our bed —our Roadrunner, obviously.
Weather. Movies.
I don't know, everything. It's a bad question to ask right now. Just say I'll miss living.
18
I feel remorse for my crimes, the ones I did commit, and I feel remorse tor the lite I was living then. If I could change any one thing, it would be the drinking. That put me on the road to a lot of the other problems.
It's easy to blame other people or circumstances, but I won't. I liked to drink, it's that simple. I liked sitting in the booth at the Conoco and taking a tug of vodka whenever I felt like it. You'd feel it glide warm into you and everything was right. Outside, lights slid by all sparkly when it rained. Inside, all the cigarettes were in rows, all the gum and Life Savers. The heater felt good on your shins, and you'd watch the traffic at the light, everyone in a hurry to get somewhere and the rain coming down, the wipers going. It made you laugh and take another sip. It made you wish your life could just stay that way.
That was the problem —you were always trying to get back there, to that same place. And you were always ready to try. Between Garlyn, Joy and me, one of us always had something going on. We had good times, the three of us, but I look back and wonder if they were worth it. The last time I saw Garlyn she was living in her mother's basement and working at Pantho's Mexican Buffet. We were there for dinner; Gainey was throwing his spoon all over the place and finally spilled his water. She had three stitches in her lip from falling down the cellar stairs. I asked if she was still seeing Danny, because he used to hit her. She was. She said Joy had just gotten fired from the County Line for dumping a platter of hot links on a customer. We laughed because it was just like Joy. That was ten years ago. I don't know what's happened to either of them since.
19
I'd like to say I'm sorry to all the relatives of the Closes, Victor Nunez, Kim Zwillich, Reggie Tyler, Donald . . .
Anderson — Donald Anderson. He was the manager.
I'm sorry, I do remember them, I just can't remember all eight at the same time. Five men and three women, I know that. I'm missing one of each.
What I'd like to say to their families is that I pray for every one of them each and every day. Mr. Jefferies said that Mrs. Nunez wanted to be here tonight. I wanted to invite her, but the state wouldn't let me. I wish she could come. I wish they all could. I'm sure they're outside right now. If that makes the loss of their loved ones easier on them, then fine. In the paper the other day, Mrs. Nunez said she hoped it would be painful, and that I should be killed the same way her son was. I did not kill Victor Nunez. I'd also say that what Natalie did to Kim Zwillich was worse, but I haven't heard her parents complaining in the paper.
Margo Styles. She was the one at the drive-thru window. So there's one more.
What do you say to someone in this situation? I'm sorry isn't good enough. That I'm going to die isn't good enough. I wanted to make a public apology a few years ago, but Mr. Jefferies warned me against it. Forget it, he said, you cant win. All you're going to get for it is grief.
The cop. Sergeant Lloyd Red Deer. He was the reason Mr. Jefferies moved the trial to Oklahoma. New Mexico's still ticked off about that. Mr. Jefferies said that if he weren't a cop, I might have gotten off with life.
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