'Don't touch me,' she said. 'Next week this time you'll be a murderer, no better than that man Wharton, so don't touch me.'
She went out onto the back stoop, put her apron up to her face, and began to sob into it. The four of us looked at each other. After a little bit I got on my feet and set about cleaning up the mess. Brutal joined me first, then Harry and Dean. When the place looked more or less shipshape again, they left. None of us said a word the whole time. There was really nothing left to say.
Chapter 31
6
That was my night off. I sat in the living room of our little house, smoking cigarettes, listening to the radio, and watching the dark come up out of the ground to swallow the sky. Television is all right, I've nothing against it, but I don't like how it turns you away from the rest of the world and toward nothing but its own glassy self. In that one way, at least, radio was better.
Janice came in, knelt beside the arm of my chair, and took my hand. For a little while neither of us said anything, just stayed that way, listening to Kay Kyser's Kollege of Musical Knowledge and watching the stars come out. It was all right with me.
'I'm so sorry I called you a coward,' she said. 'I feel worse about that than anything I've ever said to you in our whole marriage.'
'Even the time when we went camping and you called me Old Stinky Sam?' I asked, and then we laughed and had a kiss or two and it was better again between us. She was so beautiful, my Janice, and I still dream of her. Old and tired of living as I am, I'll dream that she walks into my room in this lonely, forgotten place where the hallways all smell of piss and old boiled cabbage, I dream she's young and beautiful with her blue eyes and her fine high br**sts that I couldn't hardly keep my hands off of, and she'll say, Why, honey, I wasn't in that bus crash. You made a mistake, that's all. Even now I dream that, and sometimes when I wake up and know it was a dream, I cry. I, who hardly ever cried at all when I was young.
'Does Hal know?' she asked at last.
'That John 's innocent? I don't see how he can.'
'Can he help? Does he have any influence with Cribus?'
'Not a bit, honey
She nodded, as if she had expected this. 'Then don't tell him. If he can't help, for God's sake don't tell him.'
'No.'
She looked up at me with steady eyes. 'And you won't call in sick that night. None of you will. You can't.'
'No, we can't. If we're there, we can at least make it quick for him. We can do that much. It won't be like Delacroix.' For a moment, mercifully brief, I saw the black silk mask burning away from Del's face and revealing the cooked blobs of jelly which had been his eyes.
'There's no way out for you, is there?' She took my hand, rubbed it down the soft velvet of her cheek. 'Poor Paul. Poor old guy.'
I said nothing. Never before or after in my life did I feel so much like running from a thing. Just taking Jan with me, the two of us with a single packed carpetbag between us, running to anywhere.
'My poor old guy,' she repeated, and then: 'Talk to him.'
'Who? John?'
'Yes. Talk to him. Find out what he wants.'
I thought about it, then nodded. She was right. She usually was.
7
Two days later, on the eighteenth, Bill Dodge, Hank Bitterman, and someone else - I don't remember who, some floater - took John Coffey over to D Block for his shower, and we rehearsed his execution while he was gone. We didn't let Toot-Toot stand in for John; all of us knew, even without talking about it, that it would have been an obscenity.
I did it.
'John Coffey,' Brutal said in a not-quite-steady voice as I sat clamped into Old Sparky, 'you have been condemned to die in the electric chair, sentence passed by a jury of your peers... '
John Coffey's peers? What a joke. So far as I knew, there was no one like him on the planet. Then I thought of what John had said while he stood looking at Sparky from the foot of the stairs leading down from my office: They're still in there. I hear them screaming.
'Get me out of it,' I said hoarsely. 'Undo these clamps and let me up.'
They did it, but for a moment I felt frozen there, as if Old Sparky did not want to let me go.
As we walked back to the block, Brutal spoke to me in a low voice, so not even Dean and Harry, who were setting up the last of the chairs behind us, would overhear. 'I done a few things in my life that I'm not proud of, but this is the first time I ever felt really actually in danger of hell.'
I looked at him to make sure he wasn't joking. I didn't think he was. 'What do you mean?'
'I mean we're fixing to kill a gift of God,' he said. 'One that never did ary harm to us, or to anyone else. What am I going to say if I end up standing in front of God the Father Almighty and He asks me to explain why I did it? That it was my job? My job?'
8