绿里奇迹(英文版)-第43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！


Percy　stepped　grandly　around　to　the　front　of　the　electric　chain　This　was　his　big　moment；　he　was　at　center　stage；　all　eyes　were　on　him。　All；　that　was；　but　for　one　set。　Delacroix　saw　who　it　was　and　looked　down　at　his　lap　instead。　I　would　have　bet　you　a　dollar　to　a　doughnut　that　Percy　would　flub　his　lines　when　he　actually　had　to　say　them　for　an　audience；　but　he　reeled　them　off　without　a　hitch；　in　an　eerily　calm　voice。　
〃Eduard　Delacroix；　you　have　been　condemned　to　die　in　the　electric　chair；　sentence　passed　by　a　jury　of　your　peers　and　imposed　by　a　judge　of　good　standing　in　this　state；　God　save　the　people　of　this　state。　Do　you　have　anything　to　say　before　sentence　is　carried　out？〃　
Del　tried　to　speak　and　at　first　nothing　came　out　but　a　terrified　whisper　full　of　air　and　vowel…sounds。　The　shadow　of　a　contemptuous　smile　touched　the　corners　of　Percy's　lips；　and　I　could　have　cheerfully　shot　him　right　there。　Then　Del　licked　his　lips　and　tried　again。　
〃　I　sorry　for　what　I　do；〃　he　said。　〃I　give　anything　to　turn　back　the　clock；　but　no　one　can。　So　now　…　〃　Thunder　exploded　like　an　airburst　mortar　shell　above　us。　Del　jumped　as　much　as　the　clamps　would　allow；　eyes　starting　wildly　out　of　his　wet　face。　〃So　now　I　pay　the　price。　God　forgive　me。〃　He　licked　his　lips　again；　and　looked　at　Brutal。　〃Don't　forget　your　promise　about　Mr。　Jingles；〃　he　said　in　a　lower　voice　that　was　meant　just　for　us。　
〃We　won't；　don't　worry；〃　I　said；　and　patted　Delacroix's　clay…cold　hand。　〃He's　going　to　Mouseville　…　〃　
〃The　hell　he　is'　〃　Percy　said；　speaking　from　the　corner　of　his　mouth　like　a　yardwise　con　as　he　hooked　the　restraining　belt　across　Delacroix's　chest。　〃There's　no　such　place。　It's　a　fairy…tale　these　guys　made　up　to　keep　you　quiet。　Just　thought　you　should　know；　faggot。〃　
A　stricken　light　in　Del's　eyes　told　me　that　part　of　him　had　known　。。。　but　would　have　kept　the　knowledge　from　the　rest　of　him；　if　allowed。　I　looked　at　Percy；　dumbfounded　and　furious；　and　he　looked　back　at　me　levelly；　as　if　to　ask　what　I　meant　to　do　about　it。　And　he　had　me；　of　course。　There　was　nothing　I　could　do　about　it；　not　in　front　of　the　witnesses；　not　with　Delacroix　now　sitting　on　the　furthest　edge　of　life。　There　was　nothing　to　do　now　but　go　on　with　it；　finish　it。　
Percy　took　the　mask　from　its　hook　and　rolled　it　down　over　Del's　face；　snugging　it　tight　under　the　little　man's　undershot　chin　so　as　to　stretch　the　hole　in　the　top。　Taking　the　sponge　from　the　bucket　and　putting　it　in　the　cap　was　the　next；　and　it　was　here　that　Percy　diverged　from　the　routine　for　the　first　time：　instead　of　just　bending　over　and　fishing　the　sponge　out；　he　took　the　steel　cap　from　the　back　of　the　chair；　and　bent　over　with　it　in　his　hands。　Instead　of　bringing　the　sponge　to　the　cap；　in　other　words…which　would　have　been　the　natural　way　to　do　it　…　he　brought　the　cap　to　the　sponge。　I　should　have　realized　something　was　wrong；　but　I　was　too　upset。　It　was　the　only　execution　I　ever　took　part　in　where　I　felt　totally　out　of　control。　As　for　Brutal；　he　never　looked　at　Percy　at　all；　not　as　Percy　bent　over　the　bucket　（moving　so　as　to　partially　block　what　he　was　doing　from　our　view）；　not　as　he　straightened　up　and　turned　to　Del　with　the　cap　in　his　hands　and　the　brown　circle　of　sponge　already　inside　it。　Brutal　was　looking　at　the　cloth　which　had　replaced　Del's　face；　watching　the　way　the　black　silk　mask　drew　in；　outlining　the　circle　of　Del's　open　mouth；　and　then　puffed　out　again　with　his　breath。　There　were　big　beads　of　perspiration　on　Brutal's　forehead；　and　at　his　temples；　just　below　the　hairline。　I　had　never　seen　him　sweat　at　an　execution　before。　Behind　him；　Dean　looked　distracted　and　W；　as　if　he　was　fighting　not　to　lose　his　supper。　We　all　understood　that　something　was　wrong；　I　know　that　now。　We　just　couldn't　tell　what　it　was。　No　one　knew　…　not　then　…　about　the　questions　Percy　had　been　asking　Jack　Van　Hay。　There　were　a　lot　of　them；　but　I　suspect　most　were　just　camouflage。　What　Percy　wanted　to　know　about　…　the　only　thing　Percy　wanted　to　know　about；　I　believe　…　was　the　sponge。　The　purpose　of　the　sponge。　Why　it　was　soaked　in　brine　。。。　and　what　would　happen　if　it　was　not　soaked　in　brine。　
What　would　happen　if　the　sponge　was　dry。　
Percy　jammed　the　cap　down　on　Del's　head。　The　little　man　jumped　and　moaned　again；　this　time　louder。　Some　of　the　witnesses　stirred　uneasily　on　their　folding　chairs。　Dean　took　a　half…step　forward；　meaning　to　help　with　the　chin…strap；　and　Percy　motioned　him　curtly　to　step　back。　Dean　did；　hunching　a　little　and　wincing　as　another　blast　of　thunder　shook　the　storage　shed。　This　time　it　was　followed　by　the　first　spatters　of　rain　across　the　roof。　They　sounded　hard；　like　someone　flinging　handfuls　of　goobers　onto　a　washboard。　
You've　heard　people　say　〃My　blood　ran　cold〃　about　things；　haven't　you？　Sure。　All　of　us　have；　but　the　only　time　in　all　my　years　that　I　actually　felt　it　happen　to　me　was　on　that　new　and　thunderstruck　morning　in　October　of　1932；　at　about　ten　seconds　past　midnight。　It　wasn't　the　look　of　poison　triumph　on　Percy　Wetmore's　face　as　he　stepped　away　from　the　capped；　clamped；　and　hooded　figure　sitting　there　in　Old　Sparky；　it　was　what　I　should　have　seen　and　didn't。　There　was　no　water　running　down　Del's　cheeks　from　out　of　the　cap。　That　was　when　I　finally　got　it。　
〃Edward　Delacroix；〃　Percy　was　saying；　〃electricity　shall　now　be　passed　through　your　body　until　you　are　dead；　according　to　state　law。〃　
I　looked　over　at　Brutal　in　an　agony　that　made　my　urinary　infection　seem　like　a　bumped　finger　The　sponge　is　dry！　I　mouthed　at　him；　but　he　only　shook　his　head；　not　understanding；　and　looked　back　at　the　mask　over　the　Frenchman's　face；　where　the　man's　last　few　breaths　were　pulling　the　black　silk　in　and　then　blousing　it　out　again。　
I　reached　for　Percy's　elbow　and　he　stepped　away　from　me；　giving　me　a　flat　look　as　he　did　so。　It　was　only　a　momentary　glance；　but　it　told　me　everything。　Later　he　would　tell　his　lies　and　his　half…truths；　and　most　would　be　believed　by　the　people　who　mattered；　but　I　knew　a　different　story。　Percy　was　a　good　student　when　he　was　doing　something　he　cared　about；　we'd　found　that　out　at　the　rehearsals；　and　he　had　listened　carefully　when　Jack　Van　Hay　explained　how　the　brine…soaked　sponge　conducted　the　juice；　channelling　it；　turning　the　charge　into　a　kind　of　electric　bullet　to　the　brain。　Oh　yes；　Percy　knew　exactly　what　he　was　doing。　I　think　I　believed　him　later　when　he　said　I　didn't　know　how　far　it　would　go；　but　that　doesn't　even　count　in　the　good…intentions　column；　does　it？　I　don't　think　so。　Yet；　short　of　screaming　in　front　of　the　assistant　warden　and　all　the　witnesses　for　Jack　Van　Hay　not　to　pull　the　switch；　there　was　nothing　I　could　do。　Given　another　five　seconds；　I　think　I　might　have　screamed　just　that；　but　Percy　didn't　give　me　another　five　seconds。　
〃May　God　have　mercy　on　your　soul；〃　he　told　the　panting；　terrified　figure　in　the　electric　chair；　then　looked　past　him　at　the　mesh…covered　rectangle　where　Harry　and　Jack　were　standing；　Jack　with　his　hand　on　the　switch　marked　MABEL'S　HAIR　DRIER。　The　doctor　was　standing　to　the　right　of　that　window；　eyes　fixed　on　the　black　bag　between　his　feet；　as　silent　and　selfeffacing　as　ever。　〃Roll　on　two！〃　
At　first　it　was　the　same　as　always　…　the　humming　that　was　a　little　louder　than　the　original　cycle…up；　but　not　much；　and　the　mindless　forward　surge　of　Del's　body　as　his　muscles　spasmed。　
Then　things　started　going　wrong。　
The　humming　lost　its　steadiness　and　began　to　waver。　It　was　joined　by　a　crackling　sound；　like　cellophane　being　crinkled。　I　could　smell　something　horrible　that　I　didn't　identify　as　a　mixture　of　burning　hair　and　organic　sponge　until　I　saw　blue　tendrils　of　smoke　curling　out　from　beneath　the　edges　of　the　cap。　More　smoke　was　streaming　out　of　the　hole　in　the　top　of　the　cap　that　the　wire　came　in　through；　it　looked　like　smoke　ing　out　of　the　hole　in　an　Indian's　teepee。　
Delacroix　began　to　jitter　and　twist　in…the　chair；　his　mask…covered　face　snapping　from　side　to　side　as　if　in　some　vehement　refusal。　His　legs　began　to　piston　up　and　down　in　short　strokes　that　were　hampered　by　the　clamps　on　his　ankles。　Thunder　banged　overhead；　and　now　the　rain　began　to　pour　down　harder。　
I　looked　at　Dean　Stanton；　he　stared　wildly　back。　There　was　a　muffled　pop　from　under　the　cap；　like　a　pine　knot　exploding　in　a　hot　fire；　and　now　I　could　see　smoke　ing　through　the　mask；　as　well；　seeping　out　in　little　curls。　
I　lunged　toward　the　mesh　between　us　and　the　switch　room；　but　before　I　could　open　my　mouth；　Brutus　Howell　seized　my　elbow。　His　grip　was　hard　enough　to　make　the　nerves　in　there　tingle。　He　was　as　white　as　tallow　but　not　in　a　panic　…　not　even　close　to　being　in　a　panic。　〃Don't　you　tell　Jack　to　stop；〃　he　said　in　a　low　voice。　〃Whatever　you　do；　don't　tell　him　that。　It's　too　late　to　stop。〃　
At　first；　when　Del　began　to　scream；　the　witnesses　didn't　hear　him。　The　rain　on　the　tin　roof　had　swelled　to　a　roar；　and　the　thunder　was　damned　near　continuous。　But　those　of　us　on　the　platform　heard　him；　all　right　…　choked　howls　of　pain　from　beneath　the　smoking　mask；　sounds　an　animal　caught　and　mangled　in　a　hay…baler　might　make。　
The　hum　from　the　cap　was　ragged　and　wild　now；　broken　by　bursts　of　what　sounded　like　radio　static。　Delacroix　began　to　slam　back　and　forth　in　the　chair　like　a　kid　do