绿里奇迹(英文版)-第33章

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！


e　straitjacket　came　off；　and　only　stared　listlessly　at　me　when　I　told　him　it　would　go　just　the　same　the　next　time；　and　he　just　had　to　ask　himself　how　much　time　he　wanted　to　spend　pissing　in　his　pants　and　eating　baby…food　a　spoonful　at　a　time。　
〃I'll　be　good；　boss；　I　learnt　my　lesson；〃　he　whispered　in　a　humble　little　voice　as　we　put　him　back　in　his　cell。　Brutal　looked　at　me　and　winked。　
Late　the　next　day；　William　Wharton；　who　was　Billy　the　Kid　to　himself　and　never　that　bushwhacking　John　Law　Wild　Bill　Hickok；　bought　a　moon…pie　from　Old　Toot…Toot。　Wharton　had　been　expressly　forbidden　any　such　merce；　but　the　afternoon　crew　was　posed　of　floaters；　as　I　think　I　have　said；　and　the　deal　went　down。　Toot　himself　undoubtedly　knew　better；　but　to　him　the　snack…wagon　was　always　a　case　of　a　nickel　is　a　nickel；　a　dime　is　a　dime；　I'd　sing　another　chorus　but　I　don't　have　the　time。　
That　night；　when　Brutal　ran　his　check…round；　Wharton　was　standing　at　the　door　of　his　cell。　He　waited　until　Brutal　looked　up　at　him；　then　slammed　the　heels　of　his　hands　into　his　bulging　cheeks　and　shot　a　thick　and　amazingly　long　stream　of　chocolate　sludge　into　Brutal's　face。　He　had　crammed　the　entire　moon…pie　into　his　trap；　held　it　there　until　it　liquefied；　and　then　used　it　like　chewing　tobacco。　
Wharton　fell　back　on　his　bunk　wearing　a　chocolate　goatee；　kicking　his　legs　and　screaming　with　laughter　and　pointing　to　Brutal；　who　was　wearing　a　lot　more　than　a　goatee。　〃Li'l　Black　Sambo；　yassuh；　boss；　yassuh；　howdoo　you　do？〃　Wharton　held　his　belly　and　howled。　〃Gosh；　if　it　had　only　been　ka…ka！　I　wish　it　had　been！　If　I'd　had　me　some　of　that………〃　
〃You　are　ka…ka；〃　Brutal　growled；　〃and　I　hope　you　got　your　bags　packed；　because　you're　going　back　down　to　your　favorite　toilet。〃　
Once　again　Wharton　was　bundled　into　the　strait　jacket；　and　once　again　we　stowed　him　in　the　room　with　the　soft　walls。　Two　days；　this　time。　Sometimes　we　could　hear　him　raving　in　there；　sometimes　we　could　hear　him　promising　that　he'd　be　good；　that　he'd　e　to　his　senses　and　be　good；　and　sometimes　we　could　hear　him　screaming　that　he　needed　a　doctor；　that　he　was　dying。　Mostly；　though；　he　was　silent。　And　he　was　silent　when　we　took　him　out　again；　too；　walking；　back　to　his　cell　with　his　head　down　and　his　eyes　dull；　not　responding　when　Harry　said；　〃Remember；　it's　up　to　you。〃　He　would　be　all　right　for　a　while；　and　then　he'd　try　something　else。　There　was　nothing　he　did　that　hadn't　been　tried　before　（well；　except　for　the　thing　with　the　moon…pie；　maybe；　even　Brutal　admitted　that　was　pretty　original）；　but　his　sheer　persistence　was　scary。　I　was　afraid　that　sooner　or　later　someone's　attention　might　lapse　and　there　would　be　hell　to　pay。　And　the　situation　might　continue　for　quite　awhile；　because　somewhere　he　had　a　lawyer　who　was　beating　the　bushes；　telling　folks　how　wrong　it　would　be　to　kill　this　fellow　upon　whose　brow　the　dew　of　youth　had　not　yet　dried　…　and　who　was；　incidentally；　as　white　as　old　Jeff　Davis。　There　was　no　sense　plaining　about　it；　because　keeping　Wharton　out　of　the　chair　was　his　lawyer's　job。　Keeping　him　safely　jugged　was　ours。　And　in　the　end；　Old　Sparky　would　almost　certainly　have　him；　lawyer　or　no　lawyer。　
6。　
That　was　the　week　Melinda　Moores；　the　warden's　wife；　came　home　from　Indianola。　The　doctors　were　done　with　her；　they　had　their　interesting；　newfangled　X…ray　photographs　of　the　tumor　in　her　head；　they　had　documented　the　weakness　in　her　hand　and　the　paralyzing　pains　that　racked　her　almost　constantly　by　then；　and　were　done　with　her。　They　gave　her　husband　a　bunch　of　pills　with　morphine　in　them　and　sent　Melinda　home　to　die。　Hal　Moores　had　some　sick…leave　piled　up　…　not　a　lot；　they　didn't　give　you　a　lot　in　those　days；　but　he　took　what　he　had　so　he　could　help　her　do　what　she　had　to　do。　
My　wife　and　I　went　to　see　her　three　days　or　so　after　she　came　home。　I　called　ahead　and　Hal　said　yes；　that　would　be　fine；　Melinda　was　having　a　pretty　good　day　and　would　enjoy　seeing　us。　
〃I　hate　calls　like　this；〃　I　said　to　Janice　as　we　drove　to　the　little　house　where　the　Mooreses　had　spent　most　of　their　marriage。　
〃So　does　everyone；　honey；〃　she　said；　and　patted　my　hand。　〃We'll　bear　up　under　it；　and　so　will　she。〃　
〃I　hope　so。〃　
We　found　Melinda　in　the　sitting　room；　planted　in　a　bright　slant　of　unseasonably　warm　October　sun；　and　my　first　shocked　thought　was　that　she　had　lost　niy　pounds。　She　hadn't；　of　course　…　if　she'd　lost　that　much　weight；　she　hardly　would　have　been　there　at　all　…　but　that　was　my　brain's　initial　reaction　to　what　my　eyes　were　reporting。　Her　face　had　fallen　away　to　show　the　shape　of　the　underlying　skull；　and　her　skin　was　as　white　as　parchment。　There　were　dark　circles　under　her　eyes。　And　it　was　the　first　time　I　ever　saw　her　in　her　rocker　when　she　didn't　have　a　lapful　of　sewing　or　afghan　squares　or　rags　for　braiding　into　a　rug。　She　was　just　sitting　there。　Like　a　person　in　a　train…station。　
〃Melinda；〃　my　wife　said　warmly。　I　think　she　was　as　shocked　as　I　was　…　more；　perhaps　…　but　she　hid　it　splendidly；　as　some　women　seem　able　to　do。　She　went　to　Melinda；　dropped　on　one　knee　beside　the　rocking　chair　in　which　the　warden's　wife　sat；　and　took　one　of　her　hands。　As　she　did；　my　eye　happened　on　the　blue　hearthrug　by　the　fireplace。　It　occurred　to　me　that　it　should　have　been　the　shade　of　tired　old　limes；　because　now　this　room　was　just　another　version　of　the　Green　Mile。　
〃I　brought　you　some　tea；〃　Jan　said；　〃the　kind　I　put　up　myself。　It's　a　nice　sleepy　tea。　I've　left　it　in　the　kitchen。〃　
〃Thank　you　so　much；　darlin；〃　Melinda　said。　Her　voice　sounded　old　and　rusty　
〃How　you　feeling；　dear？〃　my　wife　asked。　
〃Better；〃　Melinda　said　in　her　rusty；　grating　voice。　〃Not　so's　I　want　to　go　out　to　a　barn　dance；　but　at　least　there's　no　pain　today。　They　give　me　some　pills　for　the　headaches。　Sometimes　they　even　work。〃　
〃That's　good；　isn't　it？〃　
〃But　I　can't　grip　so　well。　Something's　happened　。。。　to　my　hand。〃　She　raised　it；　looked　at　it　as　if　she　had　never　seen　it　before；　then　lowered　it　back　into　her　lap。　〃Something's　happened　。。。　all　over　me。〃　She　began　to　cry　in　a　soundless　way　that　made　me　think　of　John　Coffey。　It　started　to　chime　in　my　head　again；　that　thing　he'd　said：　I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　Like　a　rhyme　you　can't　get　rid　of。　
Hal　came　in　then。　He　collared　me；　and　you　can　believe　me　when　I　say　I　was　glad　to　be　collared。　We　went　into　the　kitchen；　and　he　poured　me　half　a　shot　of　white　whiskey；　hot　stuff　fresh　out　of　some　countryman's　still。　We　clinked　our　glasses　together　and　drank。　The　shine　went　down　like　coal…oil；　but　the　bloom　in　the　belly　was　heaven。　Still；　when　Moores　tipped　the　mason　jar　at　me；　wordlessly　asking　if　I　wanted　the　other　half；　I　shook　my　head　and　waved　it　off。　Wild　Bill　Wharton　was　out　of　restraints　…　for　the　time　being；　anyway　…　and　it　wouldn't　be　safe　to　go　near　where　he　was　with　a　booze…clouded　head。　Not　even　with　bars　between　us。　
〃I　don't　know　how　long　I　can　take　this；　Paul；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。　〃There's　a　girl　who　es　in　mornings　to　help　me　with　her；　but　the　doctors　I　say　she　may　lose　control　of　her　bowels；　and　。。。　and　。。。〃　
He　stopped；　his　throat　working；　trying　hard　not　to　cry　in　front　of　me　again。　
〃Go　with　it　as　best　you　can；〃　I　said。　I　reached　out　across　the　table　and　briefly　squeezed　his　palsied；　liverspotted　hand。　〃Do　that　day　by　day　and　give　the　rest　over　to　God。　There's　nothing　else　you　can　do；　is　there？〃　
〃I　guess　not。　But　it's　hard；　Paul。　I　pray　you　never　have　to　find　out　how　hard。〃　
He　made　an　effort　to　collect　himself。　
〃Now　tell　me　the　news。　How　are　you　doing　with　William　Wharton？　And　how　are　you　making　out　with　Percy　Wetmore？〃　
We　talked　shop　for　a　while；　and　got　through　the　visit。　After；　all　the　way　home；　with　my　wife　sitting　silent；　for　the　most　part　…　wet…eyed　and　thoughtful　…　in　the　passenger　seat　beside　me；　Coffey's　words　ran　around　in　my　head　like　Mr。　Jingles　running　around　in　Delacroix's　cell：　I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　
〃It's　terrible；〃　my　wife　said　dully　at　one　point。　〃And　there's　nothing　anyone　can　do　to　help　her。〃　
I　nodded　agreement　and　thought；　I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　But　that　was　crazy；　and　I　tried　as　best　I　could　to　put　it　out　of　my　mind。　
As　we　turned　into　our　dooryard；　she　finally　spoke　a　second　time　…　not　about　her　old　friend　Melinda；　but　about　my　urinary　infection。　She　wanted　to　know　if　it　was　really　gone。　Really　gone；　I　told　her。　
〃That's　fine；　then；〃　she　said；　and　kissed　me　over　the　eyebrow；　in　that　shivery　place　of　mine。　〃Maybe　we　ought　to；　you　know；　get　up　to　a　little　something。　If　you　have　the　time　and　the　inclination；　that　is。〃　
Having　plenty　of　the　latter　and　just　enough　of　the　former；　I　took　her　by　the　hand　and　led　her　into　the　back　bedroom　and　took　her　clothes　off　as　she　stroked　the　part　of　me　that　swelled　and　throbbed　but　didn't　hurt　anymore。　And　as　I　moved　in　her　sweetness；　slipping　through　it　in　that　slow　way　she　liked　…　that　we　both　liked　…　I　thought　of　John　Coffey；　saying　he'd　helped　it；　he'd　helped　it；　hadn't　he？　Like　a　snatch　of　song　that　won't　leave　your　mind　until　it's　damned　good　and　ready。　
Later；　as　I　drove　to　the　prison；　I　got　to　thinking　that　very　soon　we　would　have　to　start　rehearsing　for　Delacroix's　execution。　That　thought　led　to　how　Percy　was　going　to　be　out　front　this　time；　and　I　felt　a　sh