绿里奇迹(英文版)-第23部分

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fection　which　had　so　troubled　my　life　in　the　fall　of　1932　…　the　fall　of　John　Coffey；　Percy　Wetmore；　and　Mr。　Jingles；　the　trained　mouse。　
The　fall　of　William　Wharton；　it　had　been；　too。　
〃Paul！〃　Elaine　cried；　and　hurried　over　to　me　hurried　as　fast　as　the　rusty　nails　and　ground　glass　in　her　hips　would　allow；　anyway。　〃Paul；　what's　wrong？〃　
〃I'll　be　all　right；〃　I　said；　but　the　words　didn't　sound　very　convincing　…　they　came　out　all　uneven；　through　teeth　that　wanted　to　chatter。　〃Just　give　me　a　minute　or　two；　I'll　be　right　as　rain。〃　
She　sat　next　to　me　and　put　her　arm　around　my　shoulders。　〃I'm　sure；〃　she　said。　〃But　what　happened？　For　heaven's　sake；　Paul；　you　look　like　you　saw　a　ghost。〃　
I　did；　I　thought；　and　didn't　realize　until　her　eyes　widened　that　I'd　said　it　out　loud。　
〃Not　really。〃　I　said；　and　patted　her　hand　（gently　…　so　gently！）。　〃But　for　a　minute。　Elaine　God！〃　
〃Was　it　from　the　time　when　you　were　a　guard　at　the　prison？〃　she　asked。　〃The　time　that　you've　been　writing　about　in　the　solarium？〃　
I　nodded。　〃I　worked　on　our　version　of　Death　Row　…　〃　
〃I　know　…　〃　
〃Only　we　called　it　the　Green　Mile。　Because　of　the　linoleum　on　the　floor。　In　the　fall　of　'32；　we　got　this　fellow　…　we　got　this　wildman　…　named　William　Wharton。　Liked　to　think　of　himself　as　Billy　the　Kid；　even　had　it　tattooed　on　his　arm。　Just　a　kid；　but　dangerous。　I　can　still　remember　what　Curtis　Anderson　…　he　was　the　assistant　warden　back　in　those　days　…　wrote　about　him。　'Crazy…wild　and　proud　of　it。　Wharton　is　nieen　years　old；　and　he　just　doesn't　care。'　He'd　underlined　that　part。〃　
The　hand　which　had　gone　around　my　shoulders　was　now　rubbing　my　back。　I　was　beginning　to　calm。　In　that　moment　I　loved　Elaine　Connelly；　and　could　have　kissed　her　all　over　her　face　as　I　told　her　so。　Maybe　I　should　have。　It's　terrible　to　be　alone　and　frightened　at　any　age；　but　I　think　it's　worst　when　you're　old。　But　I　had　this　other　thing　on　my　mind；　this　load　of　old　and　still　unfinished　business。　
〃Anyway；〃　I　said；　〃you're　right…I've　been　scribbling　about　how　Wharton　came　on　the　block　and　almost　killed　Dean　Stanton　…　One　of　the　guys　I　worked　with　back　then　…　when　he　did。〃　
〃How　could　he　do　that？〃　Elaine　asked。　
〃Meanness　and　carelessness；〃　I　said　grimly。　〃Wharton　supplied　the　meanness；　and　the　guards　who　brought　him　in　supplied　the　carelessness。　The　real　mistake　was　Wharton's　wrist…chain　…　it　was　a　little　too　long。　When　Dean　unlocked　the　door　to　E　Block；　Wharton　was　behind　him。　There　were　guards　on　either　side　of　him；　but　Anderson　was　right　…　Wild　Billy　just　didn't　care　about　such　things。　He　dropped　that　wrist…chain　down　over　Dean's　head　and　started　choking　him　with　it。〃　
Elaine　shuddered。　
〃Anyway；　I　got　thinking　about　all　that　and　couldn't　sleep；　so　I　came　down　here。　I　turned　on　AMC；　thinking　you　might　e　down　and　we'd　have　us　a　little　date…〃　
She　laughed　and　kissed　my　forehead　just　above　the　eyebrow。　It　used　to　make　me　prickle　all　over　when　Janice　did　that；　and　it　still　made　me　prickle　all　over　when　Elaine　did　it　early　this　morning。　I　guess　some　things　don't　ever　change。　
〃…and　what　came　on　was　this　old　black…and…white　gangster　movie　from　the　forties。　Kiss　of　Death；　it's　called。〃　
I　could　feel　myself　wanting　to　start　shaking　again　and　tried　to　suppress　it。　
〃Richard　Widmark's　in　it；〃　I　said。　〃It　was　his　first　big　part；　I　think。　I　never　went　to　see　it　with　Jan　…　we　gave　the　cops　and　robbers　a　miss；　usually　…　but　I　remember　reading　somewhere　that　Widmark　gave　one　hell　of　a　performance　as　the　punk。　He　sure　did。　He's　pale　。。。　doesn't　seem　to　walk　so　much　as　go　gliding　around　。。。　he's　always　calling　people　'squirt'　。　。　。　talking　about　squealers　how　much　he　hates　the　squealers　。　。　！〃　
I　was　starting　to　shiver　again　in　spite　of　my　best　efforts。　I　just　couldn't　help　it。　
〃Blond　hair；〃　I　whispered。　〃Lank　blond　hair。　I　watched　until　the　part　where　he　pushed　this　old　woman　in　a　wheelchair　down　a　flight　of　stairs；　then　I　turned　it　off。〃　
〃He　reminded　you　of　Wharton？〃　
〃He　was　Wharton；〃　I　said。　〃To　the　life！〃　
〃Paul！'　she　began；　and　stopped。　She　looked　at　the　blank　screen　of　the　TV　（the　cable　box　on　top　of　it　was　still　on；　the　red　numerals　still　showing　10；　the　number　of　the　AMC　channel）；　then　back　at　me。　
〃What？〃　I　asked。　'What；　Elaine？〃　Thinking；　She's　going　to　tell；　me　I　ought　to　quit　writing　about　it。　That　I　ought　to　tear　up　the　pages　I've　written　so　far　and　just　quit　on　it。　
What　she　said　was　〃Don't　let　this　stop　you！〃　
I　gawped　at　her。　
〃Close　your　mouth；　Paul　…　you'll　catch　a　fly。〃　
〃Sorry。　It's　just　that　。。。　well　。　。　。〃　
〃You　thought　I　was　going　to　tell　you　just　the　opposite；　didn't　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　I'm　not　too　old　to　think。　What's　a　few　sleepless　nights　at　our　age？　What's　seeing　a　ghost　on　the　TV；　for　that　matter？　Are　you　going　to　tell　me　it's　the　only　one　you've　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　wasn't　the　first　ghost　I've　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　wasn't　very　careful。　
〃I　think　I've　changed　my　mind　about　the　television；〃　she　said。　〃I've　got　an　extra　pill　that　I've　been　keeping　for　a　rainy　day　。。。　or　night。　I　think　I'll　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　won't　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　wasn't　able　to；　I　lay　in　my　bed　until　sunup；　thinking　about　Kiss　of　Death。　I'd　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　he'd　looked　on　the　day　when　he　came　to　E　Block　and　the　Green　Mile　…　Wharton　giggling　like　Widmark；　Wharton　screaming；　Ain't　this　a　pa〃；　now？　Is　it；　or　what？　I　didn't　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。　〃Ain't　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　he'd　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　wasn't　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　Wharton's　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　didn't　doubt　the　story　the　others　told　of　Wharton's　blank　face　and　dull　eyes　when　they　recounted　it　later；　but　that　wasn't　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　didn't　matter。　The　other　thing　I　saw　was　Dean　Stanton's　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　I'd　almost　certainly　have　to　hit　one　to　hit　the　other。　From　over　Dean's　shoulder；　one　blazing　blue　eye　dared　me　to　shoot。　Wharton's　other　eye　was　hidden　by　Dean's　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　moment's　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　Wharton's　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　Wharton's　skull　…　and　the　chain　finally　loosened　around　Dean's　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　didn't　think　he'd　need　a　cell；　as　hard　as　Brutal　had　hit　him；　I　thought　he'd　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　he'd　gone　to　sleep　listening　to　his　favorite　lullaby。　A　tiny　r