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第37部分（第2页）

〃I　didnt　know　the　sponge　was　supposed　to　be　wet；〃　Percy　said　in　his　robots　voice。　〃Its　never　wet　in　rehearsal。〃

Dean　looked　at　him　with　utter　disgust。　〃How　many　years　did　you　spend　pissing　on　the　toilet　seat　before　someone　told　you　to　put　it　up　before　you　start？〃　he　snarled。

Percy　opened　his　mouth　to　reply；　but　I　told　him　to　shut　up。　For　a　wonder；　he　did。　I　turned　to　Anderson。

〃Percy　fucked　up；　Curtis　…　thats　what　happened；　pure　and　simple。〃　I　turned　toward　Percy；　daring　him　to　contradict　me。　He　didnt；　maybe　because　he　read　my　eyes：　better　that　Anderson　hear　stupid　mistake　than　on　purpose。　And　besides；　whatever　was　said　down　here　in　the　tunnel　didnt　matter。　What　mattered；　what　always　matters　to　the　Percy　Wetmores　of　the　world；　is　what　gets　written　down　or　overheard　by　the　big　bugs　…　the　people　who　matter。　What　matters　to　the　Percys　of　the　world　is　how　it　plays　in　the　newspapers。

Anderson　looked　at　the　five　of　us　uncertainly。　He　even　looked　at　Del；　but　Del　wasnt　talking。　〃I　guess　it　could　be　worse；〃　Anderson　said。

〃Thats　right；〃　I　agreed。　〃He　could　still　be　alive。〃

Curtis　blinked　…　that　possibility　seemed　not　to　have　crossed　his　mind。　〃I　want　a　plete　report　about　this　on　my　desk　tomorrow；〃　he　said。　〃And　none　of　you　are　going　to　talk　to　Warden　Moores　about　it　until　Ive　had　my　chance。　Are　you？〃

We　shook　our　heads　vehemently。　If　Curtis　Anderson　wanted　to　tell　the　warden；　why；　that　was　fine　by　us。

〃If　none　of　those　asshole　scribblers　put　it　in　their　papers　…〃

〃They　wont；〃　I　said。　〃If　they　tried；　their　editorsd　kill　it。　Too　gruesome　for　a　family　audience。　But　they　wont　even　try　…　they　were　all　vets　tonight。　Sometimes　things　go　wrong；　thats　all。　They　know　it　as　well　as　we　do。〃

Anderson　considered　a　moment　longer；　then　nodded。　He　turned　his　attention　to　Percy；　an　expression　of　disgust　on　his　usually　pleasant　face。　〃Youre　a　little　asshole；〃　he　said；　〃and　I　dont　like　you　a　bit。〃　He　nodded　at　Percys　look　of　flabbergasted　surprise。　〃If　you　tell　any　of　your　candy…ass　friends　I　said　that；　Ill　deny　it　until　Aunt　Rhodys　old　gray　goose　es　back　to　life；　and　these　men　will　back　me　up。　Youve　got　a　problem；　son。〃

He　turned　and　started　up　the　stairs。　I　let　him　get　four　steps　and　then　said：　〃Curtis？〃

He　turned　back；　eyebrows　raised；　saying　nothing。

〃You　dont　want　to　worry　too　much　about　Percy；〃　I　said。　〃Hes　moving　on　to　Briar　Ridge　soon。　Bigger　and　better　things。　Isnt　that　right；　Percy？〃

〃As　soon　as　his　transfer　es　through；〃　Brutal　added。

〃And　until　it　es；　hes　going　to　call　in　sick　every　night；〃　Dean　put　in。

That　roused　Percy；　who　hadnt　been　working　at　the　prison　long　enough　to　have　accumulated　any　paid　sick…time。　He　looked　at　Dean　with　bright　distaste。　〃Dont　you　wish；〃　he　said。

6。

We　were　back　on　the　block　by　one…fifteen　or　so　（except　for　Percy；　who　had　been　ordered　to　clean　up　the　storage　room　and　was　sulking　his　way　through　the　job）；　me　with　a　report　to　write。　I　decided　to　do　it　at　the　duty　desk；　if　I　sat　in　my　more　fortable　office　chair；　Id　likely　doze　off。　That　probably　sounds　peculiar　to　you；　given　what　had　happened　only　an　hour　before　but　I　felt　as　if　Id　lived　three　lifetimes　since　eleven　oclock　the　previous　night；　all　of　them　without　sleep。

John　Coffey　was　standing　at　his　cell　door；　tears　streaming　from　his　strange；　distant　eyes　…　it　was　like　watching　blood　run　out　of　some　unhealable　but　strangely　painless　wound。　Closer　to　the　desk；　Wharton　was　sitting　on　his　bunk；　rocking　from　side　to　side；　and　singing　a　song　apparently　of　his　own　invention；　and　not　quite　nonsense。　As　well　as　I　can　remember；　it　went　something　like　this：

〃Bar…be…cue！　Me　and　you！

Stinky；　pinky；　phew…phew…phew！

It　wasnt　Billy　or　Philadelphia　Philly；　it　wasnt　Jackie　or　Roy！　It　was　a　warm　little　number；　a　hot　cucumber；　by　the　name　of　Delacroix！〃

〃Shut　up；　you　jerk；〃　I　said。

Wharton　grinned；　showing　his　mouthful　of　dingy　teeth。　He　wasnt　dying；　at　least　not　yet；　he　was　up；　happy；　practically　tap…dancing。　〃e　on　in　here　and　make　me；　why　dont　you？〃　he　said　happily；　and　then　began　another　verse　of　〃The　Barbecue　Song；〃　making　up　。　There　was　something　going　on　in　there；　all　right。　A　kind　of　green　and　stinking　intelligence　that　was；　in　its　own　way；　almost　brilliant。

I　went　down　to　John　Coffey。　He　wiped　away　his　tears　with　the　heels　of　his　hands。　His　eyes　were　red　and　sore…looking；　and　it　came　to　me　that　he　was　exhausted；　too。　Why　he　should　have　been；　a　man　who　trudged　around　the　exercise　yard　maybe　two　hours　a　day　and　either　sat　or　laid　down　in　his　cell　the　rest　of　the　time；　I　didnt　know；　but　I　didnt　doubt　what　I　was　seeing。　It　was　too　clear。

〃Poor　Del；〃　he　said　in　a　low；　hoarse　voice。　〃Poor　old　Del。〃

〃Yes；〃　I　said。　〃Poor　old　Del。　John；　are　you　okay？〃

〃Hes　out　of　it；〃　Coffey　said。　〃Dels　out　of　it。　Isn