-
Главная
-
- Книги
-
- Авторы
-
- Стивен Кинг
-
- Зеленая миля
-
- Стр. 139/304
Для того чтобы воспользоваться озвучкой предложений, необходимо
Войти или зарегистрироваться
Озвучка предложений доступна при наличии PRO-доступа
Купить PRO-доступ
At
quarter
past
ten
,
Brother
Schuster
showed
up
and
delighted
us
all
by
saying
he
would
recite
the
Lord
's
Prayer
with
Del
in
Cajun
French
.
It
seemed
like
a
good
omen
.
In
that
we
were
wrong
,
of
course
.
The
witnesses
began
to
arrive
around
eleven
,
most
talking
in
low
tones
about
the
impending
weather
,
and
speculating
about
the
possibility
of
a
power
outage
postponing
the
electrocution
.
None
of
them
seemed
to
know
that
Old
Sparky
ran
off
a
generator
,
and
unless
that
took
a
direct
lightning-hit
,
the
show
would
go
on
.
Harry
was
in
the
switch
room
that
night
,
so
he
and
Bill
Dodge
and
Percy
Wetmore
acted
as
ushers
,
seeing
folks
into
their
seats
and
asking
each
one
if
he
'd
like
a
cold
drink
of
water
.
There
were
two
women
present
:
the
sister
of
the
girl
Del
had
raped
and
murdered
,
and
the
mother
of
one
of
the
fire
victims
.
The
latter
lady
was
large
and
pale
and
determined
.
She
told
Harry
Terwilliger
that
she
hoped
the
man
she
'd
come
to
see
was
good
and
scared
,
that
he
knew
the
fires
in
the
furnace
were
stoked
for
him
,
and
that
Satan
's
imps
,
were
waiting
for
him
.
Then
she
burst
into
tears
and
buried
her
face
in
a
lace
hanky
that
was
almost
the
size
of
a
pillowslip
.
Thunder
,
hardly
muffled
at
all
by
the
tin
roof
,
banged
harsh
and
loud
.
People
glanced
up
uneasily
.
Men
who
looked
uncomfortable
wearing
ties
this
late
at
night
wiped
at
their
florid
cheeks
.
It
was
hotter
than
blue
blazes
in
the
storage
shed
.
And
,
of
course
,
they
kept
turning
their
eyes
to
Old
Sparky
.
They
might
have
made
jokes
about
this
chore
earlier
in
the
week
,
but
the
jokes
were
gone
by
eleven-thirty
or
so
that
night
.
I
started
all
this
by
telling
you
that
the
humor
went
out
of
the
situation
in
a
hurry
for
the
people
who
had
to
sit
down
in
that
oak
chair
,
but
the
condemned
prisoners
were
n't
the
only
ones
who
lost
the
smiles
off
their
faces
when
the
time
actually
came
.
It
just
seemed
so
bald
,
somehow
,
squatting
up
there
on
its
platform
,
with
the
clamps
on
the
legs
sticking
off
to
either
side
,
looking
like
the
things
a
person
with
polio
would
have
to
wear
.
There
was
n't
much
talk
,
and
when
the
thunder
boomed
again
,
as
sharp
and
personal
as
a
splintering
tree
,
the
sister
of
Delacroix
's
victim
gave
a
little
scream
.
The
last
person
to
take
his
seat
in
the
witness
's
section
was
Curtis
Anderson
,
Warden
Moores
's
stand-in
.
At
eleven-thirty
,
I
approached
Delacroix
's
cell
with
Brutal
and
Dean
walking
slightly
behind
me
.
Del
was
sitting
on
his
bunk
,
with
Mr.
Jingles
in
his
lap
.
The
mouse
's
head
was
stretched
forward
toward
the
condemned
man
,
his
little
oilspot
eyes
rapt
on
Del
's
face
.
Del
was
stroking
the
top
of
Mr.
Jingles
's
head
between
his
ears
.
Large
silent
tears
were
rolling
down
Del
's
face
,
and
it
was
these
the
mouse
seemed
to
be
peering
at
.
Del
looked
up
at
the
sound
of
our
footsteps
.
He
was
very
pale
.
From
behind
me
,
I
sensed
rather
than
saw
John
Coffey
standing
at
his
cell
door
,
watching
.
Del
winced
at
the
sound
of
my
keys
clashing
against
metal
,
but
held
steady
,
continuing
to
stroke
Mr.
Jingles
's
head
,
as
I
turned
the
locks
and
ran
the
door
open
.
"
Hi
dere
,
Boss
Edgecombe
,
"
he
said
.
"
Hi
dere
,
boys
.
Say
hi
,
Mr.
Jingles
.
"
But
Mr.
Jingles
only
continued
to
look
raptly
up
at
the
balding
little
man
's
face
,
as
if
wondering
at
the
source
of
his
tears
.
The
colored
spool
had
been
neatly
laid
aside
in
the
Corona
box
--
laid
aside
for
the
last
time
,
I
thought
,
and
felt
a
pang
.
"
Eduard
Delacroix
,
as
an
officer
of
the
court
...
"
