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"
My
friend
,
"
I
told
him
,
"
if
you
want
to
be
a
Billy
the
Kid
instead
of
a
Wild
Bill
,
it
's
all
the
same
to
me
.
"
He
puffed
visibly
,
like
one
of
those
loathsome
fish
that
live
in
South
American
rivers
and
can
sting
you
almost
to
death
with
the
spines
along
their
backs
and
sides
.
I
dealt
with
a
lot
of
dangerous
men
during
my
time
on
the
Mile
,
but
few
if
any
so
repellent
as
William
Wharton
,
who
considered
himself
a
great
outlaw
,
but
whose
jailhouse
behavior
rarely
rose
above
pissing
or
spitting
through
the
bars
of
his
cell
.
So
far
we
had
n't
given
him
the
awed
respect
he
felt
was
his
by
right
,
but
on
that
particular
night
I
wanted
him
tractable
.
If
that
meant
lathering
on
the
softsoap
,
I
would
gladly
lather
it
on
.
"
I
got
a
lot
in
common
with
the
Kid
,
and
you
just
better
believe
it
,
"
Wharton
said
.
"
I
did
n't
get
here
for
stealing
candy
out
of
a
dimestore
.
"
As
proud
as
a
man
who
's
been
conscripted
into
the
Heroes
"
Brigade
of
the
French
Foreign
Legion
instead
of
one
whose
ass
has
been
slammed
into
a
cell
seventy
long
steps
from
the
electric
chair
.
"
Where
's
my
supper
?
"
"
Come
on
,
Kid
,
report
says
you
had
it
at
five-fifty
.
Meatloaf
with
gravy
,
mashed
,
peas
.
You
do
n't
con
me
that
easy
.
"
He
laughed
expansively
and
sat
down
on
his
bunk
again
.
"
Put
on
the
radio
,
then
.
"
He
said
radio
in
the
way
people
did
back
then
when
they
were
joking
,
so
it
rhymed
with
the
fifties
slang
word
"
Daddy-O
.
"
It
's
funny
how
much
a
person
can
remember
about
times
when
his
nerves
were
tuned
so
tight
they
almost
sang
.
"
Maybe
later
,
big
boy
,
"
I
said
.
I
stepped
away
from
his
cell
and
looked
down
the
corridor
.
Brutal
had
strolled
down
to
the
far
end
,
where
he
checked
to
make
sure
the
restraint-room
door
was
on
the
single
lock
instead
of
the
double
.
I
knew
it
was
,
because
I
'd
already
checked
it
myself
.
Later
on
,
we
'd
want
to
be
able
to
open
that
door
as
quick
as
we
could
.
There
would
be
no
time
spent
emptying
out
the
attic-type
rick-rack
that
had
accumulated
in
there
over
the
years
;
we
'd
taken
it
out
,
sorted
it
,
and
stored
it
in
other
places
not
long
after
Wharton
joined
our
happy
band
.
It
had
seemed
to
us
the
room
with
the
soft
walls
was
apt
to
get
a
lot
of
use
,
at
least
until
"
Billy
the
Kid
"
strolled
the
Mile
.
John
Coffey
,
who
would
usually
have
been
lying
down
at
this
time
,
long
,
thick
legs
dangling
and
face
to
the
wall
,
was
sitting
on
the
end
of
his
bunk
with
his
hands
clasped
,
watching
Brutal
with
an
alertness
--
a
thereness
--
that
was
n't
typical
of
him
.
He
was
n't
leaking
around
the
eyes
,
either
.
Brutal
tried
the
door
to
the
restraint
room
,
then
came
on
back
up
the
Mile
.
Hie
glanced
at
Coffey
as
he
passed
Coffey
's
cell
,
and
Coffey
said
a
curious
thing
:
"
Sure
.
I
'd
like
a
ride
.
"
As
if
responding
to
something
Brutal
had
said
.
Brutal
's
eyes
met
mine
.
He
knows
,
I
could
almost
hear
him
saying
.
Somehow
he
knows
.
