按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
He looked up。 I thought for a moment I saw tears in his eyes； but I guess I was probably wrong about that。 〃I ain't saying nothing； Paul。 But I found them up there； and I smelled peppermint； same as you … you know you did。 And I can't do this no more。 I won't do this no more。 Seeing one more man in that chair'd just about kill me。 I'm going to put in for a transfer to Boys' Correctional on Monday。 If I get it before the next one； that's fine。 If I don't； I'll resign and go back to farming。〃
〃What did you ever farm； besides rocks？〃
〃It don't matter。〃
〃I know it doesn't；〃 I said。 〃I think I'll put in with you。…〃
He looked at me close； making sure I wasn't just having some sport with him； then nodded as if it was a settled thing。 The wind gusted again； strong enough this time to make the beams creak and settle； and we both looked around uneasily at the padded walls。 I think for a moment we could hear William Wharton … not Billy the Kid； not him； he had been 〃Wild Bill〃 to us from his first day on the block … screaming and laughing； telling us we were going to be damned glad to be rid of him； telling us we would never forget him。 About those things he was right。
As for what Brutal and I agreed on that night in the restraint room； it turned out just that way It was almost as if we had taken a solemn oath on those tiny bits of colored； wood。 Neither of us ever took part in another execution。 John Coffey was the last。
Part Two：
The Mouse on the Mile
1。
The nursing home where I am crossing my last bunch of t's and dotting my last mess of i's is called Georgia Pines。 It's about sixty miles from Atlanta and about two hundred light…years from life as most people … people under the age of eighty； let's say … live it。 You who are reading this want to be careful that there isn't a place like it waiting in your future。 It's not a cruel place； not for the most part； there's cable TV； the food's good （although there's damned little a man can chew）； but in its way； it's as much of a killing bottle as E Block at Cold Mountain ever was。
There's even a fellow here who reminds me a little of Percy Wetmore； who got his job on the Green Mile because he was related to the governor of the state。 I doubt if this fellow is related to anyone important； even though he acts that way。 Brad Dolan； his name is。 He's always bing his hair； like Percy was； and he's always got something to read stuffed into his back pocket。 With Percy it was magazines like Argosy and Men's Adventure； with Brad it's these little paperbacks called Gross jokes and Sick jokes。 He's always asking people why the Frenchman crossed the road or how many Polacks it takes to screw in a lightbulb or how many pallbearers there are at a Harlem funeral。 Like Percy； Brad is a dimwit who thinks nothing is funny unless it's mean。
Something Brad said the other day struck me as actually smart； but I don't give him a lot of credit for it； even a stopped clock is right twice a day； the proverb has it。 〃You're just lucky you don't have that Alzheimer's disease； Paulie；〃 was what he said。 I hate him calling me that； Paulie； but he goes on doing it； anyway； I've given up asking him to quit。 There are other sayings … not quite proverbs … that apply to Brad Dolan： 〃You can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink〃 is one； 〃You can dress him up but you can't take him out〃 is another。 In his thickheadedness he is also like Percy。
When he made his ment about Alzheimer's； he was mopping the floor of the solarium； where I had been going over the pages I have already written。 There's a great lot of them； and I think there's apt to be a great lot more before I am through。 〃That Alzheimer's； do you know what it really is？〃
〃No；〃 I said； … but I'm sure you'll tell me； Brad。〃
〃It's AIDS for old people；〃 he said； and then burst out laughing； hucka…hucka…hucka…huck！； just like he does over those idiotic jokes of his。
I didn't laugh； though； because what he said struck a nerve somewhere。 Not that I have Alzheimer's； although there's plenty of it on view here at beautiful Georgia Pines； I myself just suffer the standard oldguy memory problems。 Those problems seem to have more to do with when than what。 Looking over what I have written so far； it occurs to me that I remember everything that happened back in '32； it's the order of events that sometimes gets confused in my head。 Yet； if I'm careful； I think I can keep even that sorted out。 More or less。
John Coffey came to E Block and the Green Mile in October of that year； condemned for the murder of the nine…year…old Detterick twins。 That's my major landmark； and if I keep it in view； I should do just fine。 William 'Wild Bill〃 Wharton came after Coffey； Delacroix came before。 So did the mouse； the one Brutus Howell … Brutal； to his friends … called Steamboat Willy and Delacroix ended up calling Mr。 Jingles。
Whatever you called him； the mouse came first； even before Del … it was still summer when he showed up； and we had two other prisoners on the Green Mile： The Chief； Arlen Bitterbuck； and The Pres； Arthur Flanders。
That mouse。 That goddam mouse。 Delacroix loved it； but Percy Wetmore sure didn't。
Percy hated it from the first。
2。
The mouse came back just about three days after Percy had chased it down the Green Mile that first time。 Dean Stanton and Bill Dodge were talking politics； which meant in those days； they were talking Roosevelt and Hoover … Herbert； not J。 Edgar。 They were eating Ritz crackers from a box Dean had purchased from old Toot…Toot an hour or so before。 Percy was standing in the office doorway； practicing quick draws with the baton he loved so much； as he listened。 He'd pull it out of that ridiculous handtooled holster he'd gotten somewhere； then twirl it （or try to； most times he would have dropped it if not for the rawhide loop he kept on his wrist）； then re…holster it。 I was off that night； but got the full report from Dean the following evening。
The mouse came up the Green Mile just as it had before； hopping along； then stopping and seeming to check the empty cells。 After a bit of that it would hop on； undiscouraged； as if it had known all along it would be a long search； and it was up to that。
The President was awake this time； standing at his cell door。 That guy was a piece of work； managing to look natty even in his prison blues。 We knew just by the way he looked that he wasn't made for Old Sparky； and we were right … less than a week after Percy's second run at that mouse； The Pres's sentence was muted to life and he joined the general population。
〃Say！〃 he called。 ''There's a mouse in here！ What kind of a joint are you guys running； anyway？〃 He was kind of laughing； but Dean said he also sounded kind of outraged； as if even a murder rap hadn't been quite enough to knock the Kiwanis out of his soul。 He had been the regional head of an outfit called Mid…South Realty Associates； and had thought himself smart enough to be able to get away with pushing his half…senile father out a third…story window and collect on a double…indemnity whole…life policy。 On that he had been wrong； but maybe not by much。
〃Shut up； you lugoon；〃 Percy said； but that was pretty much