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was cheating; she stood waiting for the unfortunate Lester McCall; known to his pals (and; presumably; to his extremely short…term mistress) as Cutter; at the top of the stairs leading to the apartment over his barber shop。 She waited until he got his overcoat half off; then dropped his cheating guts onto his two…tone shoes。 Used one of Cutter's own razors to do it。 Two nights before she was due to sit in Old Sparky; she called me to her cell and said she had been visited by her African spirit…father in a dream。 He told her to discard her slave…name and to die under her free name; Matuomi。 That was her request; that her death warrant should be read under the name of Beverly Matuomi。 I guess her spirit…father didn't give her any first name; or one she could make out; anyhow。 I said yes; okay; fine。 One thing those years serving as the bull…goose screw taught me was never to refuse the condemned unless I absolutely had to。 In the case of Beverly Matuomi; it made no difference anyway。 The governor called the next day around three in the afternoon; muting her sentence to life in the Grassy Valley Penal Facility for Women…all penal and no penis; we used to say back then。 I was glad to see Bev's round ass going left instead of right when she got to the duty desk; let me tell you。
Thirty…five years or so later … had to be at least thirty…five … I saw that name on the obituary page of the paper; under a picture of a skinny…faced black lady with a cloud of white hair and glass
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