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"
You
helped
it
,
"
I
said
.
"
Did
n't
you
,
big
boy
?
"
"
That
's
right
,
"
Coffey
said
.
The
smile
widened
a
little
,
and
for
a
moment
or
two
it
was
happy
.
"
I
helped
it
.
I
helped
Del
's
mouse
.
I
helped
...
"
He
trailed
off
,
unable
to
remember
the
name
.
"
Mr.
Jingles
,
"
Dean
said
.
He
was
looking
at
John
with
careful
,
wondering
eyes
,
as
if
he
expected
Coffey
to
burst
into
flames
or
maybe
begin
to
float
in
his
cell
.
"
That
's
right
,
"
Coffey
said
.
"
Mr.
Jingles
.
He
's
a
circus
mouse
.
Goan
live
in
ivy-glass
.
"
"
You
bet
your
bobcat
,
"
Harry
said
,
joining
us
in
looking
at
John
Coffey
.
Behind
us
,
Delacroix
lay
down
on
his
bunk
with
Mr.
Jingles
on
his
chest
.
Del
was
crooning
to
him
,
singing
him
some
French
song
that
sounded
like
a
lullaby
.
Coffey
looked
up
the
Green
Mile
toward
the
duty
desk
and
the
door
which
led
into
my
office
and
the
storage
room
beyond
.
"
Boss
Percy
's
bad
,
"
he
said
.
"
Boss
Percy
's
mean
.
He
stepped
on
Del
's
mouse
.
He
stepped
on
Mr.
Jingles
.
"
And
then
,
before
we
could
say
anything
else
to
him
--
if
we
could
have
thought
of
anything
to
say
--
John
Coffey
went
back
to
his
bunk
,
lay
down
,
and
rolled
on
his
side
to
face
the
wall
.
Percy
was
standing
with
his
back
to
us
when
Brutal
and
I
came
into
the
storage
room
about
twenty
minutes
later
.
He
had
found
a
can
of
paste
furniture
polish
on
a
shelf
above
the
hamper
where
we
put
our
dirty
uniforms
(
and
,
sometimes
,
our
civilian
clothes
;
the
prison
laundry
did
n't
care
what
it
washed
)
,
and
was
polishing
the
oak
arms
and
legs
of
the
electric
chair
.
This
probably
sounds
bizarre
to
you
,
perhaps
even
macabre
,
but
to
Brutal
and
me
,
it
seemed
the
most
normal
thing
Percy
had
done
all
night
.
Old
Sparky
would
be
meeting
his
public
tomorrow
,
and
.
Percy
would
at
least
appear
to
be
in
charge
.
"
Percy
,
"
I
said
quietly
.
He
turned
the
little
tune
he
'd
been
humming
dying
in
his
throat
,
and
looked
at
us
.
I
did
n't
see
the
fear
I
'd
expected
,
at
least
not
at
first
.
I
realized
that
Percy
looked
older
,
somehow
.
And
,
I
thought
,
John
Coffey
was
right
.
He
looked
mean
.
Meanness
is
like
an
addicting
drug
--
no
one
on
earth
is
more
qualified
to
say
that
than
me
--
and
I
thought
that
,
after
a
certain
amount
of
experimentation
,
Percy
had
gotten
hooked
on
it
.
He
liked
what
he
had
done
to
Delacroix
's
mouse
.
What
he
liked
even
more
was
Delacroix
's
dismayed
screams
.
