The Executioner's Song (28 page)

                The following year, however, Max happened to be rooming with the guy, and got around to inquiring if he was still interested in the girl he had seen him with. Max's new roommate started laughing and explained that was no romance—just cousins. By now, Colleen was already out of college, but since she was working at the College of Education, she was, in the practical sense, still on campus.

                Colleen only became aware of Max when he spoke in church at the beginning of the new school year. He was wearing a suit that day and looked very distinguished, and seemed a little older than the other students, but then he had already finished his two-year mission. That stood out. He spoke on the importance of not tearing other people down but building them up. Managed to show he had quite a sense of humor as he spoke.

                He was a tall fellow, six-one, and weighed about a hundred and ninety pounds. With his even features and his hair cleanly parted on the side, he looked real handsome up there in the pulpit. In fact, he created a ripple among the girls. The Ward Colleen belonged to at the University was, after all, a single Ward, that is, single girls and single boys there to meet each other.

                Before Max got up to speak, the fellow who introduced him said, Many couples get introduced to each other right here in church and later they get married, but there is one guy who didn't meet anyone last year and that is Max Jensen. "He really wants to get married, you know," said the friend up there in the pulpit.

                At that point, since Max hadn't risen yet to speak, all her roommates and herself were looking around, and asking, which one is Max? and laughing about it. Right here was where Max had to stand up. However, he got back at his friend in a real neat way, by telling a story how that fellow, who was a football player, happened to wake up from a dream one night yelling signals, then bashed into the line—except it was the wall. Max now connected that to the subject of his talk by pointing out how it was not enough to devote your life to living by the Scriptures, you also had to know just where you were in life, otherwise you might not relate the teachings properly to your own situation.

A few weeks later, Colleen invited her cousin and his five roommates to come over for a little dinner party with herself and her five roommates. Everything was laid out on the table and people walked by to get their porcupine meatballs, that is, hamburger-and-rice casserole. Since they were all strict Mormons, no iced tea or coffee was served just milk and water. A pleasant meal on regular plates, not paper, and they talked about school, basketball, and church activities. Colleen remembered Max sitting several feet away on a big pillow and laughing with the group. He had a distinctive voice that was a little bit raspy. She learned later he had hay fever and it gave his voice the deep throbbing sound that comes from having a cold. One of Colleen's roommates later described it as being very sexy.

                The next day he called. One of her roommates told Colleen she was wanted on the telephone. This was their little trick. If a girl was on the line, they would yell, "Phone!" but should it be a guy, then "Telephone." Colleen was used to hearing the second, so she had no particular idea it would be Max. The night before, she certainly hadn't gotten the feeling he was making any special attempt to communicate with her, yet he now asked her if she would like to go to a show tonight. She told him yes.

                Afterward, it was kind of funny when they each admitted they had seen What's Up, Doc? before, but hadn't wanted to spoil the other's opportunity to go. Then they went to the Pizza Hut and talked about their ideas on life, and how active they and their families were in LDS work. Max said he was the oldest of four children and his father, a farmer in Montpelier, Idaho, was also a Stake President. That impressed Colleen. There couldn't be that many Stake Presidents in all of Idaho.

                He also told her about his mission to Brazil. What got her respect was that he had earned all the money to do that by himself. Missionaries had to pay their own way over, of course, and then also pay for living expenses on the mission, so most of them had to be helped financially by their families. It wasn't easy for an adolescent to earn enough money by the age of nineteen to maintain himself for two years on a mission in a foreign country. Max, however, had done that.

                He enjoyed Brazil, his conversion rate had been high. On average, you could hope to convert one person a month over your two-year stretch in that country, but he had done considerably better.

                He remembered it as a time of great challenge and much necessity to learn how to live with different people.

                Naturally, she had heard a lot about missionary work but he explained some of the things that didn't always get mentioned. For instance, he told her how a missionary might have trouble with companion. It could be tough to live with a fellow who was a complete stranger. You and your companion had to be together all the time in a foreign city. It was closer than marriage. You did your work and you lived together in pairs. Even people who really knew how to get along had to grate on each other a little with their personal habits. Just the noise you made brushing your teeth. Of course, they had a practice of rotating missionaries before too much irritation built up.

                The most valuable part, he told her, was the way you developed your ability to take rebuff. Sometimes you would really be having fruitful conversations with a possible convert, and the person even declare they were close. Then one day you'd go over, and, behold, the local Catholic priest was sitting there. He wasn't too friendly to you. There were a lot of such setbacks. You learn it wasn't you doing the converting but the readiness of other person to meet the Spirit.

                Colleen's family life wasn't too different from his. Her family did a lot of things that centered around the church, and they wanted you to take on things and do well. In high school, she told him she had been Yearbook Editor, President of the Service Club, and School Artist. She had also done portraits out at Lagoon Resort, which enabled her to save money for college. From the time she entered grade school, she wanted her drawings to be better than anyone else's.

                All the while, she kept feeling how strong a person he was. He was strict and wouldn't bend spiritually or mentally. She could tell even in the way he felt obligated to tell her that he was dating another girl. He did take the sharp edge off, however, by describing how things were not going well with the other girl who was not strong enough, in his opinion, about the Church. Then he mentioned that he had a sister who was also named Colleen and he liked the name.

                Afterward, he drove her home in his car, a bright red Nova he kept sparkling clean. Her roommates said the two of them looked good together as a couple.

                On their second date they went to hear a speaker on Sunday night meeting in church, a Fireside. On their third date, they saw South Pacific put on at the college. Afterward, she got him to go to a dance.

                He didn't care for them usually, but this was a nice slow one with foxtrots and waltzes, nothing exhibitionistic. She teased him because he didn't like to dance. Hadn't he been told in Sunday School how their ancestors danced their way across the plains when that was the only entertainment?

                Now they began dating pretty steadily. Colleen never did think, however, that it was exactly love at first sight. It was more that Max was impressed with her, and she was impressed with him.

                Her birthday was on December 3, and he made reservations at Sherwood Hills, about twenty miles from Logan, a special place to go and eat. That evening he also bought her a red rose. Colleen really appreciated his thoughtfulness. She wore a velvet dress and he was in a suit; they spent about two hours at Sherwood Hills eating steak.

                On February 1 of 1975, they got engaged. Just that morning he had received a letter from BYU Law School accepting him. In the evening, they went to a basketball game and he kept turning to her and saying. "When we're at the Y next year"—by which he meant BYU. But he hadn't asked her to marry him. So Colleen kept saying, "When you're at the Y . . . "

                It began to bother him. Later that night, they were driving to Montpelier, Idaho, to hear his father speak at church the next day, and en route, Max stopped at the shores of Bear Lake, on a little road that led to a docking area. Laughing a little, he told her to get out of the car. She answered that she'd freeze to death. "Ah, come and see the beautiful sight," he said. She was shivering in her blue parka with the fur around it, but she left the car, and while they stood on the dock looking at the moon and the water he came right out and asked her to marry him.

                A little over a month before, at Christmas-time, while washing dishes, her mother had wanted to know, "If Max asks you, will you say yes?" Colleen had turned around and looked at her and said, "I'd be a fool if I didn't."

                When they got back to the car, he said they shouldn't let anyone know until after they had the ring. But it only took another fifteen minutes to reach his home and by then they were so excited they told his parents coming through the door.

                During their engagement, she only found little things she did not like about Max. He was a perfectionist and occasionally Colleen might say something that wasn't grammatically correct. Max didn't worry about hurting her feelings. It was natural for him to come and tell her, "You made a mistake," and expect her to correct it.

                He was very proud of her painting and drawing, however. At times he would rib her in company by saying that if he wanted her to talk, all he had to do was say, "Art." She'd start like crazy.

                They really got along pretty well, however. Before they married, her mother once asked, "What bothers you about him?"

                Colleen answered, "Nothing." Of course she meant nothing that couldn't soon be worked out.

                The wedding took place in Logan Temple on May 9, 1975, at six o'clock in the morning before thirty close friends and members of their families. For the ceremony, Colleen and Max were both in white. They were going to be married in time and eternity, not only in this life, but as each of them had explained to many a Sunday School class, married in death as well, for the souls of the husband and wife would meet again in eternity and be together forever. In fact, marriage in other Christian churches was practically equal to divorce, since such marriages were only made until parting by death. That was what Max and Colleen had taught their students. Now they were marrying each other. Forever.

                In the evening, there was a reception at their own church. The families had sent out eight hundred invitations and light refreshments were offered. They had a reception line. Hundreds of relatives and friends walked through.

                For their honeymoon, they went to Disneyland. They had calculated their money and decided by cutting it close, they would have just enough. They were right. It was a nice week.

                Colleen got pregnant soon after, and it was kind of difficult for Max to understand why she didn't feel good all the time. They were both working, but she felt so little like eating that at lunch she would prepare just a small sandwich for each of them. He would say, "You're starving me to death." She would laugh and tell him she had quite a bit to learn about a guy's eating habits.

                He never raised his voice and neither did she. If, occasionally, she felt like speaking sharply, she wouldn't. They had decided right from the beginning that they would never leave each other without kissing good-bye. Nor would they go to bed with personal problems unsolved. If they were mad at each other, they would stay up to talk it out. They were not going to sleep even one night being mad at each other.

                Of course, they also had fun. Stuff like shaving-cream fights. Throwing glasses of water at each other.

                When she'd have morning sickness, he'd keep saying, "Can I help you? Can I help you?" but Colleen would try to keep her discomfort to herself. She saw that he was tired of her saying, "I'm getting fat."

                By August, close to the start of law school, they moved from Logan to Provo. That was a good time. Colleen was over morning sickness and had no trouble working. Max was squared away on studies. They found a nice basement apartment with a small front room and a tiny bedroom about twelve blocks from the college for $100 a month, and got along really well.

The week before she had the baby, Colleen typed a thirty-page paper for Max, and he sent her a dozen red roses in return. She loved him for that. They had a little girl born to them on Valentine's Day, a little over nine months from the date of their marriage. The baby had lots of dark hair and weighed seven pounds and Max was real proud of her and took snapshots before she was a day old. They named her Monica. When she got older, he loved to play with her.

                Wasn't much time of course. Finishing up first-year law school, Max was really working hard. She'd fix his breakfast and he'd leave; back for dinner at five, out again at six to the law library, home at ten. She was in charge of the baby for sure.

                They needed a larger place to live, so they bought a trailer they really liked. It was 12 feet wide, 52 feet long, and had two bedrooms. Colleen's parents loaned the money for the down payment.