“A real pleasure,” Cody says.
Paxton nods but only because he has to.
The warden says, “A physical exam is required before an execution, so that’s why Dr. Paxton is here.”
“Makes perfect sense to me, Warden. Same as all your other rules.”
“I didn’t make them, as I said.”
“This is your first execution, right. You seem a little nervous.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Just relax, Warden. We’ll get through this together.”
“Would you please step over here and cooperate?”
Cody steps to the bars and thrusts his right arm through them. Paxton quickly pulls on a pair of plastic gloves and wraps the blood pressure cuff around Cody’s right bicep. Using his stethoscope, he checks here and there, a cursory exam.
The warden holds his legal pad and says, “You still have no approved witnesses, right? No one?”
“Warden, I’ve been here for fourteen years, two months, twenty-four days, and I’ve not had a single visitor, other than my lawyer. I have no mother, father, siblings, cousins, no family whatsoever. No friends, neither here nor out there. So who in hell would I invite to my execution?”
“Okay, moving right along. What about your arrangements?”
“Arrangements? You mean my dead body? Burn it. Cremate it. Flush the ashes down the toilet because I don’t want a trace of me left on this earth. Got that?”
“Clear enough.”
Paxton lowers his stethoscope and removes the cuff. “Blood pressure is one-fifty over one hundred, a little elevated.”
Cody pulls back his arm and says, “Elevated? Gee I wonder why.”
“Pulse is ninety-five, above normal.”
“Normal? What’s normal when you’re three hours away from getting killed? Don’t I get a sedative or something to knock off the edge?”
Paxton says officially, “You’re entitled to two Valium.”
“Valium? That’s nothing. Hell, I’m about to be murdered. Why can’t I have some crack or at least a beer?”
The warden is quick to say, “Sorry, we have rules.”
“Yeah, yeah, and one of your rules is that I gotta be healthy enough to execute.”
“It’s right here in black and white.”
Cody laughs again and shakes his head in disbelief and disgust. They might be in a hurry but he is not. “Ten years ago, long before you guys got here, there was a bad dude named Hacksaw Henderson. Everybody called him Hack, for short. He killed a bunch of people and let’s just say a hacksaw was involved. Anyway, Hack finally got his date with the needle, and the day before the big event he overdosed on a bunch of painkillers and Valium he’d been stockpiling. They found him on the floor of his cell, out of it. I’m sure there’s a rule, probably right there in black and white, says you can’t kill yourself on death row, and certainly not right before all the fun and excitement of a big execution, so they freaked out, rushed Hack to the hospital, pumped his stomach, barely saved his life, then raced him back over here in the nick of time for his execution.”
The warden says, “That’s nice. Are you finished?”
“Frankly, I couldn’t stand the son of a bitch and I was happy when he was gone.”
“Are you finished?”
“Almost, got about two hours and forty minutes.”
Dr. Paxton clears his throat and says, “If we could wrap things up here.”
Cody glares at him and asks, “Are you the same doctor who’ll pronounce me dead?”
“I am. It’s part of my job.”
“Job? Is this the kind of job you were thinking about when you went to med school?”
“Come on, Wallace,” the warden says.
“You must’ve finished dead last in your class to end up with a dipshit job like this.”
“Knock it off, Wallace.”
“How many men have you pronounced dead after a lethal injection?”
“Three.”
“And does that bother you?”
“Not really.”
Cody suddenly grabs the bars in front of Paxton and says, “I hereby declare myself healthy enough to be murdered by the state. This little exam is over. Now, get out of here.”
Paxton offers a small plastic tube and says, “You got it, pal. Here’s your Valium.” He disappears quickly and the door clangs in the distance.
The warden studies his legal pad and says, “Moving right along. Your last meal will be served at nine p.m. Do you really want a frozen pizza?”