'Yes, but it was pretty bad for Percy, just the same. Wharton said something about how he'd rather screw Percy than Percy's sister.'
'Urn.' Moores kept looking sideways at John Coffey, as if he needed constant reassurance that Coffey was a real person, actually in the world. 'It doesn't explain what's happened to him, but it goes a good piece toward explaining why it was Wharton he turned on and not Coffey or one of you men. And speaking of your men, Paul, will they all tell the same story?'
'Yes, sir,' I told him. 'And they will,' I said to Jan, starting in on the soup she brought to the table. 'I'll see to it.'
'You did lie,' she said. 'You lied to Hal.'
Well, that's a wife for you, isn't it? Always poking around for moth-holes in your best suit, and finding one more often than not.
'I guess, if you want to look at it that way. I didn't tell him anything we both won't be able to live with, though. Hal's in the clear, I think. He wasn't even there, after all. He was home tending his wife until Curtis called him.'
'Did he say how Melinda was?'
'Not then, there wasn't time, but we spoke again just as Brutal and I were leaving. Melly doesn't remember much, but she's fine. Up and walking. Talking about next year's flower beds.'
My wife sat watching me eat for some little time. Then she asked, 'Does Hal know it's a miracle, Paul? Does he understand that?'
'Yes. We all do, all of us that were there.'
'Part of me wishes I'd been there, too,' she said, 'but I think most of me is glad I wasn't. If I'd seen the scales fall from Saul's eyes on the road to Damascus. I probably would have died of a heart attack.'
'Naw,' I said, tilting my bowl to capture the last spoonful, 'probably would have cooked him some soup. This is pretty fine, hon.'
'Good.' But she wasn't really thinking about soup or cooking or Saul's conversion on the Damascus road. She was looking out the window toward the ridges, her chin propped on her hand, her eyes as hazy as those ridges look on summer mornings when it's going to be hot. Summer mornings like the one when the Detterick girls had been found, I thought for no reason. I wondered why they hadn't screamed. Their killer had hurt them; there had been blood on the porch, and on the steps. So why hadn't they screamed?
'You think John Coffey really killed that man Wharton, don't you?' Janice asked, looking back from the window at last. 'Not that it was an accident, or anything like that; you think he used Percy Wetmore on Wharton like a gun.'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'I don't know.'
'Tell me again about what happened when you took Coffey off the Mile, would you? Just that part.'
So I did. I told her how the skinny arm shooting out from between the bars and grabbing John 's bicep had reminded me of a snake-one of the water moccasins we were all scared of when we were kids swimming in the river - and how Coffey had said Wharton was a bad man. Almost whispering it.
'And Wharton said...?' My wife was looking out the window again, but she was listening, all right.
'Wharton said, "That's right, nigger, bad as you'd want." '
'And that's all.'
'Yes. I had a feeling that something was going to happen right then, but nothing did. Brutal took Wharton's hand off John and told him to lie down, which Wharton did. He was out on his feet to start with. Said something about how niggers should have their own electric chair, and that was all. We went about our business.'
'John Coffey called him a bad man.'
'Yep. Said the same thing about Percy once, too. Maybe more than once. I can't remember exactly when, but I know he did.'
'But Wharton never did anything to John Coffey personally, did he? Like he did to Percy, I mean.'
'No. The way their cells were - Wharton up by the duty desk on one side, John down a ways on the other - they could hardly see each other.'
'Tell me again how Coffey looked when Wharton grabbed him.'
'Janice, this isn't getting us anywhere.'
'Maybe it isn't and maybe it is. Tell me again how he looked.'
I sighed. 'I guess you'd have to say shocked. He gasped. Like you would if you were sunning at the beach and I snuck up and trickled a little cold water down your back. Or like he'd been slapped.'
'Well, sure,' she said. 'Being grabbed out of nowhere like that startled him, woke him up for a second.'
'Yes,' I said. And then, 'No.'
'Well which is it? Yes or no?'
'No. It wasn't being startled. It was like when he wanted me to come into his cell so he could cure my infection. Or when he wanted me to hand him the mouse. It was being surprised, but not by being touched... not exactly, anyway... oh Christ, Jan, I don't know.'
'All right, we'll leave it,' she said. 'I just can't imagine why John did it, that's all. It's not as if he's violent by nature. Which leads to another question, Paul: how can you execute him if you're right about those girls? How can you possibly put him in the electric chair if someone else - '