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手机浏览器扫描二维码访问

第21部分（第2页）

〃Close　your　mouth；　Paul　…　youll　catch　a　fly。〃

〃Sorry。　Its　just　that　。。。　well　。　。　。〃

〃You　thought　I　was　going　to　tell　you　just　the　opposite；　didnt　you？〃

〃Yes。　〃

She　took　my　hands　in　hers　（gently；　so　gently　…　her　long　and　beautiful　fingers；　her　bunched　and　ugly　knuckles）　and　leaned　forward；　fixing　my　blue　eyes　with　her　hazel　ones；　the　left　slightly　dimmed　by　the　mist　of　a　coalescing　cataract。　〃I　may　be　too　old　and　brittle　to　live；〃　she　said；　〃but　Im　not　too　old　to　think。　Whats　a　few　sleepless　nights　at　our　age？　Whats　seeing　a　ghost　on　the　TV；　for　that　matter？　Are　you　going　to　tell　me　its　the　only　one　youve　ever　seen？〃

I　thought　about　Warden　Moores；　and　Harry　Terwilliger；　and　Brutus　Howell；　I　thought　about　MY　mother；　and　about　Jan；　my　wife；　who　died　in　Alabama。　I　knew　about　ghosts；　all　right。

〃No；〃　I　said。　〃It　wasnt　the　first　ghost　Ive　ever　seen。　But　Elaine　…　it　was　a　shock。　Because　it　was　him。〃

She　kissed　me　again；　then　stood　up；　wincing　as　she　did　so　and　pressing　the　heels　of　her　hands　to　the　tops　of　her　hips；　as　if　she　were　afraid　they　might　actually　explode　out　through　her　skin　if　she　wasnt　very　careful。

〃I　think　Ive　changed　my　mind　about　the　television；〃　she　said。　〃Ive　got　an　extra　pill　that　Ive　been　keeping　for　a　rainy　day　。。。　or　night。　I　think　Ill　take　it　and　go　back　to　bed。　Maybe　you　should　do　the　same。〃

〃Yes；〃　I　said。　〃I　suppose　I　should！〃　For　one　wild　moment　I　thought　of　suggesting　that　we　go　back　to　bed　together；　and　then　I　saw　the　dull　pain　in　her　eyes　and　thought　better　of　it。　Because　she　might　have　said　yes；　and　she　would　only　have　said　that　for　me。　Not　so　good。

We　left　the　TV　room　（I　wont　dignify　it　with　that　other　name；　not　even　to　be　ironic）　side　by　side；　me　matching　my　steps　to　hers；　which　were　slow　and　painfully　careful。　The　building　eone　moaning　in　the　grip　of　a　bad　dream　behind　some　closed　door。

〃Will　you　be　able　to　sleep；　do　you　think？〃　she　asked。

〃Yes；　I　think　so；〃　I　said；　but　of　course　I　wasnt　able　to；　I　lay　in　my　bed　until　sunup；　thinking　about　Kiss　of　Death。　Id　see　Richard　Widmark；　giggling　madly；　tying　the　old　lady　into　her　wheelchair　and　then　pushing　her　down　the　stairs　…〃This　is　what　we　do　to　squealers；〃　he　told　her…and　then　his　face　would　merge　into　the　face　of　William　Wharton　as　hed　looked　on　the　day　when　he　came　to　E　Block　and　the　Green　Mile　…　Wharton　giggling　like　Widmark；　Wharton　screaming；　Aint　this　a　pa〃；　now？　Is　it；　or　what？　I　didnt　bother　with　breakfast；　not　after　that；　I　just　came　down　here　to　the　solarium　and　began　to　write。

Ghosts？　Sure。

I　know　all　about　ghosts。

2。

〃Woooee；　boys！〃　Wharton　laughed。　〃Aint　this　a　party；　now？　Is　it；　or　what？〃

Still　screaming　and　laughing；　Wharton　went　back　to　choking　Dean　with　his　chain。　Why　not？　Wharton　knew　what　Dean　and　Harry　and　my　friend　Brutus　Howell　knew　…　they　could　only　fry　a　man　once。

〃Hit　him！〃　Harry　Terwilliger　screamed。　He　had　grappled　with　Wharton；　tried　to　stop　things　before　they　got　fairly　started；　but　Wharton　had　thrown　him　off　and　now　Harry　was　trying　to　find　his　feet。　〃Percy；　hit　him！〃

But　Percy　only　stood　there；　hickory　baton　in　hand；　eyes　as　wide　as　soup…plates。　He　loved　that　damned　baton　of　his；　and　you　would　have　said　this　was　the　chance　to　use　it　hed　been　pining　for　ever　since　he　came　to　Cold　Mountain　Penitentiary　。。。　but　now　that　it　had　e；　he　was　too　scared　to　use　the　opportunity。　This　wasnt　some　terrified　little　Frenchman　like　Delacroix　or　a　black　giant　who　hardly　seemed　to　know　he　was　in　his　own　body；　like　John　Coffey；　this　was　a　whirling　devil。

I　came　out　of　Whartons　cell；　dropping　my　clipboard　and　pulling　my　。38。　For　the　second　time　that　day　I　had　forgotten　the　infection　that　was　heating　up　my　middle。　I　didnt　doubt　the　story　the　others　told　of　Whartons　blank　face　and　dull　eyes　when　they　recounted　it　later；　but　that　wasnt　the　Wharton　I　saw。　What　I　saw　was　the　face　of　an　animal　…　not　an　intelligent　animal；　but　one　filled　with　cunning　。。。　and　meanness　。。。　and　joy。　Yes。　He　was　doing　what　he　had　been　made　to　do。　The　place　and　the　circumstances　didnt　matter。　The　other　thing　I　saw　was　Dean　Stantons　red；　swelling　face。　He　was　dying　in　front　of　my　eyes。　Wharton　saw　the　gun　in　my　hand　and　turned　Dean　toward　it；　so　that　Id　almost　certainly　have　to　hit　one　to　hit　the　other。　From　over　Deans　shoulder；　one　blazing　blue　eye　dared　me　to　shoot。　Whartons　other　eye　was　hidden　by　Deans　hair。　Behind　them　I　saw　Percy　standing　irresolute；　with　his　baton　half…raised。　And　then；　filling　the　open　doorway　to　the　prison　yard；　a　miracle　in　the　flesh：　Brutus　Howell。　They　had　finished　moving　the　last　of　the　infirmary　equipment；　and　he　had　e　over　to　see　who　wanted　coffee。

He　acted　without　a　moments　hesitation　…　shoved　Percy　aside　and　into　the　wall　with　tooth…rattling　force；　pulled　his　own　baton　out　of　its　loop；　and　brought　it　crashing　down　on　the　back　of　Whartons　head　with　all　the　force　in　his　massive　right　arm。　There　was　a　dull　whock！　Sound　…　an　almost　hollow　sound；　as　if　there　were　no　brain　at　all　under　Whartons　skull　…　and　the　chain　finally　loosened　around　Deans　neck。　Wharton　went　down　like　a　sack　of　meal　and　Dean　crawled　away；　hacking　harshly　and　holding　one　hand　to　his　throat；　his　eyes　bulging。

I　knelt　by　him　and　he　shook　his　head　violently。　〃Okay；〃　he　rasped。　〃Take　care　。。。　him！〃　He　motioned　at　Wharton。　〃Lock！　Cell！〃

I　didnt　think　hed　need　a　cell；　as　hard　as　Brutal　had　hit　him；　I　thought　hed　need　a　coffin。　No　such　luck；　though。　Wharton　was　conked　out；　but　a　long　way　from　dead。　He　lay　sprawled　on　his　side；　one　arm　thrown　out　so　that　the　tips　of　his　fingers　touched　the　linoleum　of　the　Green　Mile；　his　eyes　shut；　his　breathing　slow　but　regular。　There　was　even　a　peaceful　little　smile　on　his　face；　as　if　hed　gone　to　sleep　listening　to　his　favorite　lullaby。　A　tiny　red　rill　of　blood　was　seeping　out　of　his　hair　and　staining　the　collar　of　his　new　prison　shirt。　That　was　all。

〃Percy；〃　I　said。　〃Help　me！〃

Percy　didnt　move；　only　stood　against　the　wall；　staring　with　wide；　stunned　eyes。　I　dont　think　he　knew　exactly　where　he　was。

〃Percy；　goddammit；　grab　hold　of　him！〃

He　got　moving；　then；　and　Harry　helped　him。　Together　the　three　of　us　hauled　the　unconscious　Mr。　Wharton　into　his　cell　while　Brutal　helped　Dean　to　his　feet　and　held　him　as　gently　as　any　mother　while　Dean　bent　over　and　hacked　air　back　into　his　lungs。

Our　new　problem　child　didnt　wake　up　for　almost　three　hours；　but　when　he　did；　he　showed　absolutely　no　ill　effects　from　Brutals　savage　hit。　He　came　to　the　way　he　moved　…　fast。　At　one　moment　he　was　lying　on　his　bunk；　dead　to　the　world。　At　the　next　he　was　standing　at　the　bars　…　he　was　silent　as　a　cat　…　and　staring　out　at　me　as　I　sat　at　the　duty　desk；　writing　a　report　on　the　incident。　When　I　finally　sensed　someone　looking　at　me　and　glanced　up；　there　he　was；　his