sometimes before I drop off tosleep I hear the sound of my gun. And sometimes during the day too. Is that what you mean, stuff like that?
W: Tell me more about it, please.
D: Well, it’s not exactly hearing it, like I can hear you, like I hear the noises in the jail, or people talking and like that, but like an extra-sharp memory. Like I just heard it, so I get startled out of whatever I’m doing.
W: What kind of gun? Like a pistol?
D: A pistol is a pistol. A gun is an artillery piece.
W: You thought you had an artillery piece? You mean like a cannon?
D: Yes. It was a L-70 Bofors gun. A forty-mm automatic cannon.
W: Mm-hm. Can you describe this sound?
D: It was very, very loud. [laughs]
W: Well…yes, cannons are very loud.
D: Uh-huh. And it’s hard to describe, if you’ve never been near gunfire, um, how loud it is. It’s louder than thunder, louder than a jetliner flying low. It’s louder than one of those pneumatic drills. The only thing louder is bombs. A lot of noise. Of course, we all stuffed rags in our ears, but you can hear a sound like that through your nose. Through your elbows and feet. [laughs] After you’ve been firing on auto for a while, the sound takes you over, like God, in a way. I mean you’re completely deaf, but it seems you can still hear things inside the noise, like the clang of the breech closing, a kind of hammer-on-anvil sound, and the rattle of the pawls and rammer in the autoloader, like a train on railroad tracks? And the brass falling, tinkle tankle, like bells. You shouldn’t be able to hear any of that, but you do. Or seem to. And then there’s the sound of the shells, the roar in the air and the bang of the explosion, but you’re not so aware of that so much, except when you’re firing single rounds. Are you bored yet? [laughs]
W: Not at all. You make it sound very interesting. Where did you learn all this about…what did you say it was? An automatic cannon?
D: Yes, a Bofors gun. From the manual. Foy always said read the f…readthe dah-dah, manual, RTFM. And I did. Plus I had some help from a friend.
W: Who is Foy?
D: Percival Orne Foy. The late. A teacher I had.
W: In school.
D: This was more extracurricular. He taught me a lot of stuff, and I just sucked it in, never mind if I thought it was worth anything. I just gave myself over, I was so tired of thinking for myself. That was before I joined the Bloods and God found me. I was real surprised when so much of it came in useful. His providence is sometimes extremely strange in its working out.
W: By Bloods—do you mean the street gang?
D: [laughs] No, I meant the Society of Nursing Sisters of the Blood of Christ. The Bloods. Which we’re not supposed to call ourselves, but we all do. Did. I did.
W: Excuse me, are you saying that you’re a nun?
D: Oh, no. I was only a postulant. I never took vows. And they threw me out, needless to say.
W: Why was that?
D: Because we’re a medical order. We…I mean they take the Hippocratic Oath on top of their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. To do no harm. And I did a lot of harm, may God forgive me.
W: What sort of harm did you do?
D: It’s in my confession.
W: Yes, but Emmylou, this, what we’re doing here, is not part of the criminal case. We’re dealing here on a basis of confidentiality. What you tell me won’t be part of the court record and can’t be used against you.
D: You’re supposed to find out if I’m crazy or not.
W: Well, really, if you’re fit to stand trial, to aid in your own defense.
D: You wouldn’t understand.
W: Try me.
D: Do you believe in the devil?
W: The important thing here is do you believe in him?
D: Oh, I’m so tired! I am so tired of this. I thought it was over, that he didn’t have a use for me anymore, that I’d be let alone to live in peace, and now it’s all starting again, and people are going to get hurt.
W: Who’s using you?
[Silence, thirty-two seconds]
W: Who’s going to be hurt?
D: Anyone.
W: Tell me more about it, please.
D: Well, it’s not exactly hearing it, like I can hear you, like I hear the noises in the jail, or people talking and like that, but like an extra-sharp memory. Like I just heard it, so I get startled out of whatever I’m doing.
W: What kind of gun? Like a pistol?
D: A pistol is a pistol. A gun is an artillery piece.
W: You thought you had an artillery piece? You mean like a cannon?
D: Yes. It was a L-70 Bofors gun. A forty-mm automatic cannon.
W: Mm-hm. Can you describe this sound?
D: It was very, very loud. [laughs]
W: Well…yes, cannons are very loud.
D: Uh-huh. And it’s hard to describe, if you’ve never been near gunfire, um, how loud it is. It’s louder than thunder, louder than a jetliner flying low. It’s louder than one of those pneumatic drills. The only thing louder is bombs. A lot of noise. Of course, we all stuffed rags in our ears, but you can hear a sound like that through your nose. Through your elbows and feet. [laughs] After you’ve been firing on auto for a while, the sound takes you over, like God, in a way. I mean you’re completely deaf, but it seems you can still hear things inside the noise, like the clang of the breech closing, a kind of hammer-on-anvil sound, and the rattle of the pawls and rammer in the autoloader, like a train on railroad tracks? And the brass falling, tinkle tankle, like bells. You shouldn’t be able to hear any of that, but you do. Or seem to. And then there’s the sound of the shells, the roar in the air and the bang of the explosion, but you’re not so aware of that so much, except when you’re firing single rounds. Are you bored yet? [laughs]
W: Not at all. You make it sound very interesting. Where did you learn all this about…what did you say it was? An automatic cannon?
D: Yes, a Bofors gun. From the manual. Foy always said read the f…readthe dah-dah, manual, RTFM. And I did. Plus I had some help from a friend.
W: Who is Foy?
D: Percival Orne Foy. The late. A teacher I had.
W: In school.
D: This was more extracurricular. He taught me a lot of stuff, and I just sucked it in, never mind if I thought it was worth anything. I just gave myself over, I was so tired of thinking for myself. That was before I joined the Bloods and God found me. I was real surprised when so much of it came in useful. His providence is sometimes extremely strange in its working out.
W: By Bloods—do you mean the street gang?
D: [laughs] No, I meant the Society of Nursing Sisters of the Blood of Christ. The Bloods. Which we’re not supposed to call ourselves, but we all do. Did. I did.
W: Excuse me, are you saying that you’re a nun?
D: Oh, no. I was only a postulant. I never took vows. And they threw me out, needless to say.
W: Why was that?
D: Because we’re a medical order. We…I mean they take the Hippocratic Oath on top of their vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. To do no harm. And I did a lot of harm, may God forgive me.
W: What sort of harm did you do?
D: It’s in my confession.
W: Yes, but Emmylou, this, what we’re doing here, is not part of the criminal case. We’re dealing here on a basis of confidentiality. What you tell me won’t be part of the court record and can’t be used against you.
D: You’re supposed to find out if I’m crazy or not.
W: Well, really, if you’re fit to stand trial, to aid in your own defense.
D: You wouldn’t understand.
W: Try me.
D: Do you believe in the devil?
W: The important thing here is do you believe in him?
D: Oh, I’m so tired! I am so tired of this. I thought it was over, that he didn’t have a use for me anymore, that I’d be let alone to live in peace, and now it’s all starting again, and people are going to get hurt.
W: Who’s using you?
[Silence, thirty-two seconds]
W: Who’s going to be hurt?
D: Anyone.
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