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Before
he
could
shoot
,
Harry
Terwilliger
stepped
up
ahead
of
Coffey
and
then
moved
in
front
of
him
,
shielding
most
of
his
body
.
Coffey
did
n't
make
him
do
it
;
Harry
did
it
on
his
own
.
"
No
,
Warden
Moores
!
"
he
said
.
"
It
's
all
right
!
No
one
's
armed
,
no
one
's
going
to
get
hurt
,
we
're
here
to
help
!
"
"
Help
?
"
Moores
's
tangled
,
tufted
eyebrows
drew
together
.
His
eyes
blazed
.
I
could
n't
take
my
eyes
off
the
cocked
hammer
of
the
Buntline
.
"
Help
what
?
Help
who
?
"
As
if
in
answer
,
the
old
woman
's
voice
rose
again
,
querulous
and
certain
and
utterly
lost
:
"
Come
in
here
and
poke
my
mudhole
,
you
son
of
a
bitch
!
Bring
your
asshole
friends
,
too
!
Let
them
all
have
a
turn
!
"
I
looked
at
Brutal
,
shaken
to
my
soul
.
I
'd
understood
that
she
swore
--
that
the
tumor
was
somehow
making
her
swear
--
but
this
was
more
than
swearing
.
A
lot
more
.
"
What
are
you
doing
here
?
"
Moores
asked
us
again
.
A
lot
of
the
determination
had
gone
out
of
his
voice
--
his
wife
's
wavering
cries
had
done
that
.
"
I
do
n't
understand
.
Is
it
a
prison
break
,
or
...
"
John
set
Harry
aside
--
just
picked
him
up
and
moved
him
over
--
and
then
climbed
to
the
stoop
.
He
stood
between
Brutal
and
me
,
so
big
he
almost
pushed
us
off
either
side
and
into
Melly
's
holly
bushes
.
Moores
's
eyes
turned
up
to
follow
him
,
the
way
a
person
's
eyes
do
when
he
's
trying
to
see
the
top
of
a
tall
tree
.
And
suddenly
the
world
fell
back
into
place
for
me
.
That
spirit
of
discord
,
which
had
jumbled
my
thoughts
like
powerful
fingers
sifting
through
sand
or
grains
of
rice
,
was
gone
.
I
thought
I
also
understood
why
Harry
had
been
able
to
act
when
Brutal
and
I
could
only
stand
,
hopeless
and
indecisive
,
in
front
of
our
boss
.
Harry
had
been
with
John
...
and
whatever
spirit
it
is
that
opposes
that
other
,
demonic
one
,
it
was
in
John
Coffey
that
night
.
And
,
when
John
stepped
forward
to
face
Warden
Moores
,
it
was
that
other
spirit
--
something
white
,
that
's
how
I
think
of
it
,
as
something
white
--
which
took
control
of
the
situation
.
The
other
thing
did
n't
leave
,
but
I
could
see
it
drawing
back
like
a
shadow
in
a
sudden
strong
light
.
"
I
want
to
help
,
"
John
Coffey
said
.
Moores
looked
up
at
him
,
eyes
fascinated
,
mouth
hanging
open
.
When
Coffey
plucked
the
Buntline
Special
from
his
hand
and
passed
it
to
me
,
I
do
n't
think
Hal
even
knew
it
was
gone
.
I
carefully
lowered
the
hammer
.
Later
,
when
I
checked
the
cylinder
,
I
would
find
it
had
been
empty
all
along
.
Sometimes
I
wonder
if
Hal
knew
that
.
Meanwhile
,
John
was
still
murmuring
.
"
I
came
to
help
her
.
Just
to
help
.
That
's
all
I
want
.
"
"
Hal
!
"
she
cried
from
the
back
bedroom
.
Her
voice
sounded
a
little
stronger
now
,
but
it
also
sounded
afraid
,
as
if
the
thing
which
had
so
confused
and
unmanned
us
had
now
retreated
to
her
.
"
Make
them
go
away
,
whoever
they
are
!
We
do
n't
need
no
sales
men
in
the
middle
of
the
night
!
No
Electrolux
!
No
Hoover
!
No
French
knickers
with
come
in
the
crotch
!
Get
them
out
!
Tell
them
to
take
a
flying
fuck
at
a
rolling
d.
.
.
d.
.
.
"
Something
broke
--
it
could
have
been
a
waterglass
--
and
then
she
began
to
sob
.
