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"
It
's
St.
Christopher
,
"
she
said
.
"
I
want
you
to
have
it
,
Mr.
Coffey
,
and
wear
it
.
He
'll
keep
you
safe
.
Please
wear
it
.
For
me
.
"
John
looked
at
me
,
troubled
,
and
I
looked
at
Hal
,
who
first
spread
his
hands
and
then
nodded
.
"
Take
it
,
John
,
"
I
said
.
"
It
's
a
present
.
"
John
took
it
,
slipped
the
chain
around
his
bullneck
,
and
dropped
the
St.
Christopher
medallion
into
the
front
of
his
shirt
.
He
had
completely
stopped
coughing
now
,
but
I
thought
he
looked
grayer
and
sicker
than
ever
.
"
Thank
you
,
ma'am
,
"
he
said
.
"
No
,
"
she
replied
.
"
Thank
you
.
Thank
you
,
John
Coffey
.
"
I
rode
up
in
the
cab
with
Harry
going
back
,
and
was
damned
glad
to
be
there
.
The
heater
was
broken
,
but
we
were
out
of
the
open
air
,
at
least
.
We
had
gone
about
ten
miles
when
Harry
spotted
a
little
turnout
and
veered
the
truck
into
it
.
"
What
is
it
?
"
I
asked
.
"
Is
it
a
bearing
?
"
To
my
mind
,
the
problem
could
have
been
that
or
anything
;
every
component
of
the
Farmall
's
engine
and
transmission
sounded
on
the
verge
of
going
cataclysmically
wrong
or
giving
up
the
ghost
entirely
.
"
Nope
,
"
Harry
said
,
sounding
apologetic
.
"
I
got
to
take
a
leak
,
is
all
.
My
back
teeth
are
floatin
.
"
It
turned
out
that
we
all
did
,
except
for
John
.
When
Brutal
asked
if
he
would
n't
like
to
step
down
and
help
us
water
the
bushes
,
he
just
shook
his
head
without
looking
up
.
He
was
leaning
against
the
back
of
the
cab
and
wearing
one
of
the
Army
blankets
over
his
shoulders
like
a
serape
.
I
could
n't
get
any
kind
of
read
on
his
complexion
,
but
I
could
hear
his
breathing
--
dry
and
raspy
,
like
wind
blowing
through
straw
.
I
did
n't
like
it
.
