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About
that
he
was
right
.
The
bad
thing
happened
right
around
quarter
of
ten
that
night
.
That
was
when
Percy
killed
Mr.
Jingles
.
At
first
it
seemed
like
it
was
going
to
be
a
pretty
good
night
in
spite
of
the
heat
--
John
Coffey
was
being
his
usual
quiet
self
,
Wild
Bill
was
making
out
to
be
Mild
Bill
,
and
Delacroix
was
in
good
spirits
for
a
man
who
had
a
date
with
Old
Sparky
in
a
little
more
than
twenty-four
hours
.
He
did
understand
what
was
going
to
happen
to
him
,
at
least
on
the
most
basic
level
;
he
had
ordered
chili
for
his
last
meal
and
gave
me
special
instructions
for
the
kitchen
.
"
Tell
em
to
lay
on
dat
hotsauce
,
"
he
said
.
"
Tell
em
the
kind
dat
really
jump
up
your
t
'
roat
an
"
say
howdy
--
the
green
stuff
,
none
of
dat
mild
.
Dat
stuff
gripe
me
like
a
motherfucker
,
I
ca
n't
get
off
the
toilet
the
nex
"
day
,
but
I
do
n't
think
I
gon
na
have
a
problem
this
time
,
n'est
-
ce
pas
?
"
Most
of
them
worry
about
their
immortal
souls
with
a
kind
of
moronic
ferocity
,
but
Delacroix
pretty
much
dismissed
my
questions
about
what
he
wanted
for
spiritual
comfort
in
his
last
hours
.
If
"
dat
fella
"
Schuster
had
been
good
enough
for
Big
Chief
Bitterbuck
,
Del
reckoned
,
Schuster
would
be
good
enough
for
him
.
No
,
what
he
cared
about
--
you
've
guessed
already
,
I
'm
sure
--
was
what
was
going
to
happen
to
Mr.
Jingles
after
he
,
Delacroix
,
passed
on
.
I
was
used
to
spending
long
hours
with
the
condemned
on
the
night
before
their
last
march
,
but
this
was
the
first
time
I
'd
spent
those
long
hours
pondering
the
fate
of
a
mouse
.
Del
considered
scenario
after
scenario
,
patiently
working
the
possibilities
through
his
dim
mind
.
And
while
he
thought
aloud
,
wanting
to
provide
for
his
pet
mouse
's
future
as
if
it
were
a
child
that
had
to
be
put
through
college
,
he
threw
that
colored
spool
against
the
wall
.
Each
time
he
did
it
,
Mr.
Jingles
would
spring
after
it
,
track
it
down
,
and
then
roll
it
back
to
Del
's
foot
.
It
started
to
get
on
my
nerves
after
awhile
--
first
the
clack
of
the
spool
against
the
stone
wall
,
then
the
minute
clitter
of
Mr.
Jingles
's
paws
.
Although
it
was
a
cute
trick
,
it
palled
after
ninety
minutes
or
so
.
And
Mr.
Jingles
never
seemed
to
get
tired
.
He
paused
every
now
and
then
to
refresh
himself
with
a
drink
of
water
out
of
a
coffee
saucer
Delacroix
kept
for
just
that
purpose
,
or
to
munch
a
pink
crumb
of
peppermint
candy
,
and
then
back
to
it
he
went
.
Several
times
it
was
on
the
tip
of
my
tongue
to
tell
Delacroix
to
give
it
a
rest
,
and
each
time
I
reminded
myself
that
he
had
this
night
and
tomorrow
to
play
the
spool-game
with
Mr.
Jingles
,
and
that
was
all
.
Near
the
end
,
though
,
it
began
to
be
really
difficult
to
hold
onto
that
thought
--
you
know
how
it
is
,
with
a
noise
that
's
repeated
over
and
over
.
After
a
while
it
shoots
your
nerve
.
I
started
to
speak
after
all
,
then
something
made
me
look
over
my
shoulder
and
out
the
cell
door
.
John
Coffey
was
standing
at
his
cell
door
across
the
way
,
and
he
shook
his
head
at
me
:
right
,
left
,
back
to
center
.
As
if
he
had
read
my
mind
and
was
telling
me
to
think
again
.
I
would
see
that
Mr.
Jingles
got
to
Delacroix
's
maiden
aunt
,
I
said
,
the
one
who
had
sent
him
the
big
bag
of
candy
.
His
colored
spool
could
go
as
well
,
even
his
"
house
"
--
we
'd
take
up
a
collection
and
see
that
Toot
gave
up
his
claim
on
the
Corona
box
.
No
,
said
Delacroix
after
some
consideration
(
he
had
time
to
throw
the
spool
against
the
wall
at
least
five
times
,
with
Mr.
Jingles
either
nosing
it
back
or
pushing
it
with
his
paws
)
,
that
would
n't
do
.
Aunt
Hermione
was
too
old
,
she
would
n't
understand
Mr.
Jingles
's
frisky
ways
,
and
suppose
Mr.
Jingles
outlived
her
?
What
would
happen
to
him
then
?
No
,
no
,
Aunt
Hermione
just
would
n't
do
.
Well
,
then
,
I
asked
,
suppose
one
of
us
took
it
?
One
of
us
guards
?
We
could
keep
him
right
here
on
E
Block
.
No
,
Delacroix
said
,
he
thanked
me
kindly
for
the
thought
,
certainement
,
but
Mr.
Jingles
was
a
mouse
that
yearned
to
be
free
.
He
,
Eduard
Delacroix
,
knew
this
,
because
Mr.
Jingles
had
--
you
guessed
it
--
whispered
the
information
in
his
ear
.
"
All
right
,
"
I
said
,
"
one
of
us
will
take
him
home
,
Del.
.
Dean
,
maybe
.
He
's
got
a
little
boy
that
would
just
love
a
pet
mouse
,
I
bet
.
"
