The Executioner's Song by Norman Mailer

one could see his head. Gary’s narration of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest continued. “Son of a bitch,” he shouted, “that’s just the way it was.”
    THE FIRST MONTH 59p>
    From the rear rows, people were saying, “Down in front. Shhh!” Brenda grabbed him by the shirttail. “You’re obnoxious.”
    “I’m sorry.” In a big whisper, he said, ‘TI/hold it down.” But his voice came out in a roar.
     
    “Gary, all kidding aside, you’re really making me feel like a turd sitting here.”
    “All right, I’ll be good.” He put his feet up on the back of the chair in front and started rocking it. The woman who was sitting there had” probably been holding out on every impulse to change her
    seat, but now she gave up, and moved away.
    “What’d you do that for?”
    “My God, Brenda, do you have to ride herd all the time?” “You made that poor lady move.” “Her hair was in my way.” “Then sit up strmghter.
    “Not comfortable sitting up straight.”
     
    Going back to Vern’s, Gary looked pretty smug. Brenda and Johnny didn’t go in with him.
    “What’s the matter?” asked Gary. “Don’t you like me ymore.
    an 9”Right now? I think you are the most insensitive human being I’ve ever known.”
    “Brenda, I am not insensitive,” said Gary, “to i ” ” being called insen S rive.
    He whistled all the way up the steps.
     
    At breakfast, his mood was fine. He saw Vern watching him eat
    and said, “I guess you think I gobble like a pig, kinda quick.”
    Vern said, “Yeah, I noticed that.”
    Gary said, “Well, in prison you learn to eat in a hurry. You’ve got fifteen minutes to get your food, sit down and swallow it. Sometimes you just don’t get it.”
    “Did you manage to get it?” asked Vern.
    “Yeah, I worked in the. kitchen for a while. My job was to make the salad. Took five hours to make that much salad. I can’t touch the
    stuff now.” ‘
    ‘“Ihat’s fine,” said Vern, “you don’t need to eat it.”
    You re a pretty strong fellow, Vern, aren’t you?”
    “Just the champ.”
     
    9
     
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    THE EXECUTIONER’S SONG
     
    “Let’s arm wrestle,” said Gary. . Vern shook his head, but Ida sam, ahead, arm wrestle him. “Yeah, come on,” said Gary. He squinted at Vern: “You think you can take me?”
    Vern said, “I don’t have to think. I can take you.”
    “Well, I feel pretty strong today, Vern. What makes you think you can beat me?”
    “I’m gonna make up my mind,” Vern said, “and I think I can do it.”
    “Try it.”
    “Well,” Vern said, “you eat your breakfast first.”
    They got into it before the table was cleared. Vern kept eating his breakfast with his left hand, and arm wrestled with the other.
    “Son of a bitch,” Gary said, “for an old bastard you’re pretty strong.”
    Vern said. “You’re doing pitiful. It’s a good thing you finished your breakfast. I wouldn’t even give it to you now.”
    When he got Gary’s arm halfway over, Vern set down his fork, picked up a few toothpicks and held them in his left hand. He said, “Okay, my friend, any time you want to say uncle, just quit. If you don’t, I’m going to jam your hand right on these toothpicks.”
    Gary was straining with every muscle. He started giving karate yells. He even got half out of his seat, but it didn’t make much dif ference. Vern got him down on the point of the toothpicks. Gary quit.
    “One thing I want to know, Vern. Would you really have stuck me if I hadn’t hollered uncle?”
    “Yep, I told you I would, didn’t I?”
    “Son of a gun. -, ry shook his hand.
    A little later, Gary wanted to wrestle with the left arm. He lost again.
    Then he tried finger wrestling. No one beat Vern at that.
     
    “You know,” Gary said, “I don’t usually take a whipping very kindly.”
    When Vern didn’t look away, Gary said, “Vern, you’re all right.” Vern wasn’t so sure how he felt about the whole thing.
    Spencer McGrath had developed a few