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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
