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It
said
that
he
,
Anderson
,
expected
a
DOE
order
for
Edward
Delacrois
(
Anderson
's
misspelling
;
the
man
's
name
was
actually
Eduard
Delacroix
)
very
soon
.
DOE
stood
for
date
of
execution
,
and
according
to
the
note
,
Curtis
had
been
told
on
good
authority
that
the
little
Frenchman
would
take
the
walk
shortly
before
Halloween
--
October
27th
was
his
best
guess
,
and
Curtis
Anderson
's
guesses
were
very
informed
.
But
before
then
we
could
expect
a
new
resident
,
name
of
William
Wharton
.
"
He
's
what
you
like
to
call
"
a
problem
child
,
"
"
Curtis
had
written
in
his
backslanting
and
somehow
prissy
script
.
"
Crazy-wild
and
proud
of
it
.
Has
rambled
all
over
the
state
for
the
last
year
or
so
,
and
has
hit
the
big
time
at
last
.
Killed
three
people
in
a
holdup
,
one
a
pregnant
woman
,
killed
a
fourth
in
the
getaway
.
State
Patrolman
.
All
he
missed
was
a
nun
and
a
blind
man
.
"
I
smiled
a
little
at
that
.
"
Wharton
is
19
years
old
,
has
Billy
the
Kid
tattooed
on
upper
l.
forearm
.
You
will
have
to
slap
his
nose
a
time
or
two
,
I
guarantee
you
that
,
but
be
careful
when
you
do
it
.
This
man
just
does
n't
care
.
"
He
had
underlined
this
last
sentiment
twice
,
then
finished
:
"
Also
,
he
may
be
a
hang-arounder
.
He
's
working
appeals
,
and
there
's
the
fact
that
he
is
a
minor
.
"
A
crazy
kid
,
working
appeals
,
apt
to
be
around
for
awhile
.
Oh
,
that
all
sounded
just
fine
.
Suddenly
the
day
seemed
hotter
than
ever
,
and
I
could
no
longer
put
off
seeing
Warden
Moores
.
I
worked
for
three
wardens
during
my
years
as
a
Cold
Mountain
guard
;
Hal
Moores
was
the
last
and
best
of
them
.
In
a
walk
.
Honest
,
straightforward
,
lacking
even
Curtis
Anderson
's
rudimentary
wit
,
but
equipped
with
just
enough
political
savvy
to
keep
his
job
during
those
grim
years
...
and
enough
integrity
to
keep
from
getting
seduced
by
the
game
.
He
would
not
rise
any
higher
,
but
that
seemed
all
right
with
him
.
He
was
fifty-eight
or
--
nine
back
then
,
with
a
deeply
lined
bloodhound
face
that
Bobo
Marchant
probably
would
have
felt
right
at
home
with
.
He
had
white
hair
and
his
hands
shook
with
some
sort
of
palsy
,
but
he
was
strong
.
The
year
before
,
when
a
prisoner
had
rushed
him
in
the
exercise
yard
with
a
shank
whittled
out
of
a
crate-slat
,
Moores
had
stood
his
ground
,
grabbed
the
skatehound
's
wrist
,
and
had
twisted
it
so
hard
that
the
snapping
bones
had
sounded
like
dry
twigs
burning
in
a
hot
fire
.
The
skatehound
,
all
his
grievances
forgotten
,
had
gone
down
on
his
knees
in
the
dirt
and
begun
screaming
for
his
mother
.
"
I
'm
not
her
,
"
Moores
said
in
his
cultured
Southern
voice
,
"
But
if
I
was
,
I
'd
raise
up
my
skirts
and
piss
on
you
from
the
loins
that
gave
you
birth
.
"
When
I
came
into
his
office
,
he
started
to
get
up
and
I
waved
him
back
down
.
I
took
the
seat
across
the
desk
from
him
,
and
began
by
asking
about
his
wife
...
except
in
our
part
of
the
world
,
that
's
not
how
you
do
it
.
"
How
's
that
pretty
gal
of
yours
"
is
what
I
asked
,
as
if
Melinda
had
seen
only
seventeen
summers
instead
of
sixty-two
or
--
three
.
My
concern
was
genuine
he
was
a
woman
I
could
have
loved
and
married
myself
,
if
the
lines
of
our
lives
had
coincided
--
but
I
did
n't
mind
diverting
him
a
little
from
his
main
business
,
either
.
He
sighed
deeply
.
"
Not
so
well
,
Paul
.
Not
so
well
at
all
.
"
"
More
headaches
?
"
"
Only
one
this
week
,
but
it
was
the
worst
yet
--
put
her
flat
on
her
back
for
most
of
the
day
before
yesterday
.
And
now
she
's
developed
this
weakness
in
her
right
hand
--
"
He
raised
his
own
liverspotted
right
hand
.
We
both
watched
it
tremble
above
his
blotter
for
a
moment
or
two
,
and
then
he
lowered
it
again
.
I
could
tell
he
would
have
given
just
about
anything
not
to
be
telling
me
what
he
was
telling
me
,
and
I
would
have
given
just
about
anything
not
to
be
hearing
it
.
Melinda
's
headaches
had
started
in
the
spring
,
and
all
that
summer
her
doctor
had
been
saying
they
were
"
nervous-tension
migraines
,
"
perhaps
caused
by
the
stress
of
Hal
's
coming
retirement
.
Except
that
neither
of
them
could
wait
for
his
retirement
,
and
my
own
wife
had
told
me
that
migraine
is
not
a
disease
of
the
old
but
the
young
;
by
the
time
its
sufferers
reached
Melinda
Moores
's
age
,
they
were
usually
getting
better
,
not
worse
.
And
now
this
weakness
of
the
hand
.
It
did
n't
sound
like
nervous
tension
to
me
;
it
sounded
like
a
damned
stroke
.
"
Dr.
Haverstrom
wants
her
to
go
in
hospital
up
to
Indianola
,
"
Moores
said
.
"
Have
some
tests
.
Head
X-rays
,
he
means
.
Who
knows
what
else
.
She
is
scared
to
death
.
"
He
paused
,
then
added
,
"
Truth
to
tell
,
so
am
I.
