Billy’s Last Words

“I am truly sorry for all of the pain I have caused. I wish every day that I could return your loved ones to you alive, and well, and…alive. I wish every day that I hadn’t said the things I said or did the things I did. I wish you could forgive me, but if it was me out there behind that glass and you in here on this slab, I wouldn’t forgive you.

I can’t tell you why I did what I did. I’m not crazy, but I guess in those few seconds it took to destroy those lives I was not human. Maybe that’s what crazy is, but I never let my lawyers play that game in court because it wouldn’t be right. I killed, and I deserve to die for it. And I know I will not see your loved ones after they shoot me full of poison, because I will be in hell, and they are in heaven.

I’ve been laying up in my cell these past few weeks thinking about what drove me to kill. What makes me the kind of person who can become so angry that he would kill. Was it something that happened when I was a little boy? My daddy wasn’t mean to us kids, but he got awful mad here and there. He whooped me when I needed it, and I needed it a lot. I never hated him for it, and I never would have killed him over it. I don’t think so anyway. He kindly took that possibility away when he shot himself.

My mom took good care of us after that. She had a job, and she kept us fed, in clothes, and in school, and she didn’t bring mean men home. When she got the cancer and went off to die, it wasn’t her fault. I loved her. She was a good woman.

After Mom died, the state split us kids up. Mary, you went off to a Catholic home and got adopted real fast and grew up pretty good, I guess. I see you up there in the back row, and I hope you won’t look too harsh on me for what I did. I’m glad you came to see me off. I wish I could get up off here and hug your neck, but I can’t. It’s a comfort to see you here, though.

Tom Jr. went to live at the sheriff’s ranch, and he did OK up until that counselor tried to make him do nasty things in the bathroom, then he ran off and ain’t none of us seen him since. I hope he’s all right somewhere, living high, rich, and with a good woman.

Anyway, I bounced from one foster home to the next, some good, some bad, some like this place here until I got growed up enough to be out on my own. I always tried real hard to do right, and mostly I did, but every time I got near a bottle of anything, I reckon I had to drink it. I got to liking that stuff pretty good, and I got to where I couldn’t do without it, and finally I got to where I didn’t notice what a mean son of a bitch it made me. Pardon my language.

I got in a few fights, but nothing bad. But I guess the devil got in me that night at Ho Kate’s, and he showed me where the bottom of that whiskey bottle was and then he showed me where that fellow—your son, Mrs. Gordon, God forgive me if you won’t, and I don’t blame you if you don’t—and your poor pretty daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Simms, were sitting. She was so pretty sitting there, and all I wanted to do was ask her to dance. I didn’t think your son would mind, Mrs. Gordon.

But when I walked up to ask if she wanted to dance, that old devil made me misunderstand what that boy was telling me to where I thought he was being rude. I asked that girl to dance, and he was just reminding me that she was with him. He was smiling when he said it. I should have known better, but that whiskey and that devil twisted everything.

I reckon it would have been no big deal if I hadn’t known Kate kept a sawed-off behind the bar….I’m so very sorry. I just…I’m sorry.”

“Goddam, Billy. I asked you if you had any last words; I didn’t ask you to make a speech. Relax now. You’ll start to feel a little bit sleepy and….”

©2025, Brian G Parker