绿里奇迹(英文版)-第19章

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〃I　won't。〃　
〃Okay。　Off　you　go。〃　
He　started　for　the　door；　then　turned　back。　The　one　thing　you　could　count　on　with　him　was　contrariness。　I　desperately　wanted　him　gone；　my　groin　was　on　fire；　and　now　he　didn't　seem　to　want　to　go。　
〃Are　you　all　right；　Paul？〃　he　asked。　〃Running　a　fever；　maybe？　Got　a　touch　of　the　grippe？　Cause　there's　sweat　all　over　your　face。〃　
〃I　might　have　a　touch　of　something；　but　mostly　I'm　fine；〃　I　said。　〃Go　on；　Percy；　tell　the　warden。〃　
He　nodded　and　left　…　thank　Christ　for　small　favors。　As　soon　as　the　door　was　closed；　I　lunged　into　my　office。　Leaving　the　duty　desk　unmanned　was　against　regulations；　but　I　was　beyond　caring　about　that。　It　was　bad　…　like　it　had　been　that　morning。　
I　managed　to　get　into　the　little　toilet　cubicle　behind　the　desk　and　to　get　my　business　out　of　my　pants　before　the　urine　started　to　gush；　but　it　was　a　near　thing。　I　had　to　put　a　hand　over　my　mouth　to　stifle　a　scream　as　I　began　to　flow；　and　grabbed　blindly　for　the　lip　of　the　washstand　with　the　other。　It　wasn't　like　my　house；　where　I　could　fall　to　my　knees　and　piss　a　puddle　beside　the　woodpile；　if　I　went　to　my　knees　here；　the　urine　would　go　all　over　the　floor。　
I　managed　to　keep　my　feet　and　not　to　scream；　but　it　was　a　close　thing　on　both　counts。　It　felt　like　my　urine　had　been　filled　with　tiny　slivers　of　broken　glass。　The　smell　ing　up　from　the　toilet　bowl　was　swampy　and　unpleasant；　and　I　could　see　white　stuff　…　pus；　I　guess　…　floating　on　the　surface　of　the　water。　
I　took　the　towel　off　the　rack　and　wiped　my　face　with　it。　I　was　sweating；　all　right；　it　was　pouring　off　me。　I　looked　into　the　metal　mirror　and　saw　the　flushed　face　of　a　man　running　a　high　fever　looking　back　at　me。　Hundred　and　three？　Hundred　and　four？　
Better　not　to　know；　maybe。　I　put　the　towel　back　on　its　bar；　flushed　the　toilet；　and　walked　slowly　back　across　my　office　to　the　cellblock　door。　I　was　afraid　Bill　Dodge　or　someone　else　might　have　e　in　and　seen　three　prisoners　with　no　attendants；　but　the　place　was　empty。　Wharton　still　lay　unconscious　on　his　bunk；　Delacroix　had　fallen　silent；　and　John　Coffey　had　never　made　a　single　noise　at　all；　I　suddenly　realized。　Not　a　peep。　Which　was　worrisome。　
I　went　down　the　Mile　and　glanced　into　Coffey's　cell；　half…expecting　to　discover　he'd　mitted　suicide　in　one　of　the　two　mon　Death　Row　ways　either　hanging　himself　with　his　pants；　or　gnawing　into　his　wrists。　No　such　thing；　it　turned　out。　Coffey　merely　sat　on　the　end　of　his　bunk　with　his　hands　in　his　lap；　the　largest　man　I'd　ever　seen　in　my　life；　looking　at　me　with　his　strange；　wet　eyes。　
〃Cap'n？〃　he　said。　
〃What's　up；　big　boy？〃　
〃I　need　to　see　you。〃　
〃Ain't　you　looking　right　at　me；　John　Coffey？〃　
He　said　nothing　to　this；　only　went　on　studying　me　with　his　strange；　leaky　gaze。　I　sighed。　
〃In　a　second；　big　boy。〃　
I　looked　over　at　Delacroix；　who　was　standing　at　the　bars　of　his　cell。　Mr。　Jingles；　his　pet　mouse　（Delacroix　would　tell　you　he'd　trained　Mr。　Jingles　to　do　tricks；　but　us　folks　who　worked　on　the　Green　Mile　were　pretty　much　unanimous　in　the　opinion　that　Mr。　Jingles　had　trained　himself）；　was　jumping　restlessly　back　and　forth　from　one　of　Del's　outstretched　hands　to　the　other；　like　an　acrobat　doing　leaps　from　platforms　high　above　the　center　ring。　His　eyes　were　huge；　his　ears　laid　back　against　his　sleek　brown　skull。　I　hadn't　any　doubt　that　the　mouse　was　reacting　to　Delacroix's　nerves。　As　I　watched；　he　ran　down　Delacroix's　pants　leg　and　across　the　cell　to　where　the　brightly　colored　spool　lay　against　one　wall。　He　pushed　the　spool　back　to　Delacroix's　foot　and　then　looked　up　at　him　eagerly；　but　the　little　Cajun　took　no　notice　of　his　friend；　at　least　for　the　time　being。　
〃What　happen；　boss？〃　Delacroix　asked。　〃Who　been　hurt？〃　
〃Everything's　jake；〃　I　said。　〃Our　new　boy　came　in　like　a　lion；　but　now　he's　passed　out　like　a　lamb。　All's　well　that　ends　well。〃　
〃It　ain't　over　yet；〃　Delacroix　said；　looking　up　the　Mile　toward　the　cell　where　Wharton　was　jugged。　〃L'homme　mauvais；　c'est〃　
〃Well；〃　I　said；　〃don't　let　it　get　you　down；　Del。　Nobody's　going　to　make　you　play　skiprope　with　him　out　in　the　yard。〃　
There　was　a　creaking　sound　from　behind　me　as　Coffey　got　off　his　bunk。　〃Boss　Edgebe！〃　he　said　again。　This　time　he　sounded　urgent。　〃I　need　to　talk　to　you！〃　
I　turned　to　him；　thinking；　all　right；　no　problem；　talking　was　my　business。　All　the　time　trying　not　to　shiver；　because　the　fever　had　turned　cold；　as　they　sometimes　will。　Except　for　my　groin；　which　still　felt　as　if　it　had　been　slit　open；　filled　with　hot　coals；　and　then　sewed　back　up　again。　
〃So　talk；　John　Coffey；〃　I　said；　trying　to　keep　my　voice　light　and　calm。　For　the　first　time　since　he'd　e　onto　E　Block；　Coffey　looked　as　though　he　was　really　here；　really　among　us。　The　almost　ceaseless　trickle　of　tears　from　the　corners　of　his　eyes　had　ceased；　at　least　for　the　time　being；　and　I　knew　he　was　seeing　what　he　was　looking　at　…　Mr。　Paul　Edgebe；　E　Block's　bull…goose　screw；　and　not　some　place　he　wished　he　could　return　to；　and　take　back　the　terrible　thing　he'd　done。　
〃No；〃　he　said。　〃You　got　to　e　in　here。〃　
〃Now；　you　know　I　can't　do　that；〃　I　said；　still　trying　for　the　light　tone；　〃at　least　not　right　this　minute。　I'm　on　my　own　here　for　the　time　being；　and　you　outweigh　me　by　just　about　a　ton　and　a　half。　We've　had　us　one　hooraw　this　afternoon；　and　that's　enough。　So　we'll　just　have　us　a　chat　through　the　bars；　if　it's　all　the　same　to　you；　and　…　〃　
〃Please！〃　He　was　holding　the　bars　so　tightly　that　his　knuckles　were　pale　and　his　fingernails　were　white。　His　face　was　long　with　distress；　those　strange　eyes　sharp　with　some　need　I　could　not　understand。　I　remember　thinking　that　maybe　I　could've　understood　it　if　I　hadn't　been　so　sick；　and　knowing　that　would　have　given　me　a　way　of　helping　him　through　the　rest　of　it。　When　you　know　what　a　man　needs；　you　know　the　man；　more　often　than　not。　〃Please；　Boss　Edgebe！　You　have　to　e　in！〃　
That's　the　nuttiest　thing　I　ever　heard；　I　thought；　and　then　realized　something　even　nuttier：　I　was　going　to　do　it。　I　had　my　keys　off　my　belt　and　I　was　hunting　through　them　for　the　ones　that　opened　John　Coffey's　cell。　He　could　have　picked　me　up　and　broken　me　over　his　knee　like　kindling　on　a　day　when　I　was　well　and　feeling　fine；　and　this　wasn't　that　day。　All　the　same；　I　was　going　to　do　it。　On　my　own；　and　less　than　half　an　hour　after　a　graphic　demonstration　of　where　stupidity　and　laxness　could　get　you　when　you　were　dealing　with　condemned　murderers；　I　was　going　to　open　this　black　giant's　cell；　go　in；　and　sit　with　him。　If　I　was　discovered；　I　might　well　lose　my　job　even　if　he　didn't　do　anything　crazy；　but　I　was　going　to　do　it；　just　the　same。　
Stop；　I　said　to　myself；　you　just　stop　now；　Paul。　But　I　didn't。　I　used　one　key　on　the　top　lock；　another　on　the　bottom　lock；　and　then　I　slid　the　door　back　on　its　track。　
〃You　know；　boss；　that　maybe　not　such　a　good　idear；〃　Delacroix　said　in　a　voice　so　nervous　and　prissy　it　would　probably　have　made　me　laugh　under　other　circumstances。　
〃You　mind　your　business　and　I'll　mind　mine；〃　I　said　without　looking　around。　My　eyes　were　fixed　on　John　Coffey's；　and　fixed　so　hard　they　might　have　been　nailed　there。　It　was　like　being　hypnotized。　My　voice　sounded　to　my　own　ears　like　something　which　had　e　echoing　down　a　long　valley。　Hell；　maybe　I　was　hypnotized。　〃You　just　lie　down　and　take　you　a　rest。〃　
〃Christ；　this　place　is　crazy；〃　Delacroix　said　in　a　trembling　voice。　〃Mr。　Jingles；　I　just　about　wish　they'd　fry　me　and　be　done　widdit！〃　
I　went　into　Coffey's　cell。　He　stepped　away　as　I　stepped　forward。　When　he　was　backed　up　against　his　bunk　…　it　hit　him　in　the　calves；　that's　how　tall　he　was　…　he　sat　down　on　it。　He　patted　the　mattress　beside　him；　his　eyes　never　once　leaving　mine。　I　sat　down　there　next　to　him；　and　he　put　his　arm　around　my　shoulders；　as　if　we　were　at　the　movies　and　I　was　his　girl。　
〃What　do　you　want；　John　Coffey？〃　I　asked；　still　looking　into　his　eyes　…　those　sad；　serene　eyes。　
〃Just　to　help；〃　he　said。　He　sighed　like　a　man　will　when　he's　faced　with　a　job　he　doesn't　much　want　to　do；　and　then　he　put　his　hand　down　in　my　crotch；　on　that　shelf　of　bone　a　foot　or　so　below　the　navel。　
〃Hey！〃　I　cried。　〃Get　your　goddam　hand………〃　
A　jolt　slammed　through　me　then；　a　big　painless　whack　of　something。　It　made　me　jerk　on　the　cot　and　bow　my　back；　made　me　think　of　Old　Toot　shouting　that　he　was　frying；　he　was　frying；　he　was　a　done　tom　turkey。　There　was　no　heat；　no　feeling　of　electricity；　but　for　a　moment　the　color　seemed　to　jump　out　of　everything；　as　if　the　world　had　been　somehoade　to　sweat。　I　could　see　every　pore　on　john　Coffey's　face；　I　could　see　every　bloodshot　snap　in　his　haunted　eyes；　I　could　see　a　tiny　healing　scrape　on　his　chin。　I　was　aware　that　my　fingers　were　hooked　down　into　claws　on　thin　air；　and　that　my　feet　were　drumming　on　the　floor　of　Coffey's　cell。　
Then　it　was　over。　So　was　my　urinary　infection。　Both　the　heat　and　the　miserable　throbbing　pain　were　gone　from　my　crotch；　and　the　fever　was　likewise　gone　from　my　head。　I　could　still　feel　the　sweat　it　had　drawn　out　of　my　skin；　and　I　could　smell　it；　but　it　was　gone；　all　right。　
〃What's　going　on？〃　Delacroix　called　shrilly。　His　voice　still　came　from　far　away；　but　when　John　Coffey　bent　forward；　breaking　eye…contact　with　me；　the　little　Cajun's　voice　suddenly　came　clear。　It　was　as　if　someone　had　pulled　wads　of　cotton　or　a　pair　of　shooters'　plugs　out　of　my　ears。　〃What's　he　doing　to　you？〃　
I　didn't　answer。　Coffey　was　bent　forward　over　his　own　lap　with　his　face　working　and　his　throat　bulging。　His　eyes　were　bulging；　too。　He　looked　like　a　man　with　a　chicken　bone　caught　in　his　throat。　
〃John！〃　I　said。　I　clapped　him　on　the　back；　it　was　all　I　could　think　of　to　do。　〃John；　what's　wrong？〃　
He　hitched　under　my　hand；　then　made　an　unpleasant　gagging；　retching　sound。　His　mouth　opened　the　way　horses　sometimes　open　their　mouths　to　allow　the　bit　…　reluctantly；　with　the　lips　peeling　back　from　the　teeth　in　a　kind　of　desperate　sneer。　Then　his　teeth　parted；　too；　and　he　exhaled　a　cloud　of　tiny　black　insects　that　looked　like　gnats　or　noseeums。　They　swirled　furiously　between　his　knees；　turned　white；　and　disappeared。　
Suddenly　all　the　strength　went　out　of　my　middsection。　It　was　as　if　the　muscles　there　had　turned　to　water。　I　slumped　back　against　the　stone　side　of　Coffey's　cell。　I　remember　thinking　the　name　of　the　Savior　…　Christ；　Christ；　Christ；　over　and　over；　like　that　…　and　I　remember　thinking　that　the　fever　had　driven　me　delirious。　That　was　all。　
Then　I　became　aware　that　Delacroix　was　bawling　for　help；　he　was　telling　the　world　that　John　Coffey　was　killing　me；　and　telling　it　at　the　top　of　his　lungs。　Coffey　was　bending　over　me；　all　right；　but　only　to　make　sure　I　was　okay。　
〃Shut　up；　Del；〃　I　said；　and　got　on　my　feet。　I　waited　for　the　pain　to　rip　into　my　guts；　but　it　didn't　happen。　I　was　better。　Really。　There　was　a　moment　of　dizziness；　but　that　passed　even　before　I　was　able　to　reach　out　and　grab　the　bars　of　Coffey's　cell　door　for　balance。　〃I'm　totally　okey…doke。〃　
〃You　get　on　outta　here；〃　Delacroix　said；　sounding　like　a　nervy　old　woman　telling　a　kid　to　climb　down　out　of　that…ere　apple　tree。　〃You　ain't　suppose　to　be　in　there　wit　no　one　else　on　the　block。〃　
I　looked　at　John　Coffey；　who　sat　on　the　bunk　with　his　huge　hands　on　the　tree　stumps　of　his　knees。　John　Coffey　looked　back　at　me。　He　had　to　tilt　his　head　up　a　little；　but　not　much。　
〃What　did　you　do；　big　boy？〃　I　asked　in　a　low　voice。　〃What　did　you　do　to　me？〃　
〃Helped；〃　he　said。　〃I　helped　it；　didn't　I？〃　
〃Yeah；　I　guess；　but　how？　How　did　you　help　it？〃　
He　shook　his　head　…　right；　left；　back　to　dead　center。　He　didn't　know　how　he'd　helped　it　（how　he'd　cured　it）　and　his　placid　face　suggested　that　he　didn't　give　a　rat's　ass　…　any　more　than　I'd　give　a　rat's　ass　about　the　mechanics　of　running　when　I　was　leading　in　the　last　fifty　yards　of　a　Fourth　of　July　Two…Miler。　I　thought　about　asking　him　how　he'd　known　I　was　sick　in　the　first　place；　except　that　would　undoubtedly　have　gotten　the　same　headshake。　There's　a　phrase　I　read　somewhere　and　never　forgot；　something　about　〃an　enigma　wrapped　in　a　mystery。〃　That's　what　John　Coffey　was；　and　I　suppose　the　only　reason　he　could　sleep　at　night　was　because　he　didn't　care。　Percy　called　him　the　ijit；　which　was　cruel　but　not　too　far　off　the　mark。　Our　big　boy　knew　his　name；　and　knew　it　wasn't　spelled　like　the　drink；　and　that　was　just　about　all　he　cared　to　know。　
As　if　to　emphasize　this　for　me；　he　shook　his　head　m　that　deliberate　way　one　more　time；　then　lay　down　on　his　bunk　with　his　hands　clasped　under　his　left　cheek　like　a　pillow　and　his　face　to　the　wall。　His　legs　dangled　off　the　end　of　the　bunk　from　the　shins　on　down；　but　that　never　seemed　to　bother　him。　The　back　of　his　shirt　had　pulled　up；　and　I　could　see　the　scars　that　crisscrossed　his　skin。　
I　left　the　cell；　turned　the　locks；　then　faced　Delacroix；　who　was　standing　across　the　way　with　his　hands　wrapped　around　the　bars　of　his　cell；　looking　at　me　anxiously。　Perhaps　even　fearfully。　Mr。　Jingles　perched　on　his　shoulder　with　his　fine　ents。　〃What　dat　darkie…man　do　to　you？〃　Delacroix　asked。　〃Waddit　gris…gris？　He　th'ow　some　gris…gris　on　you？〃　Spoken　in　that　Cajun　accent　of　his；　gris…gris　rhymed　with　pee…pee。　
〃I　don't　know　what　you're　talking　about；　Del。〃　
〃Devil　you　don't！　Lookit　you！　All　change！　Even　walk　different；　boss！〃　
I　probably　was　walkin