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"
He
left
the
room
and
went
striding
up
the
Green
Mile
,
forgetting
in
his
agitation
why
that
green
floored
central
corridor
was
so
wide
.
He
had
mad
this
mistake
once
before
and
had
gotten
away
with
it
.
He
would
not
get
away
with
it
again
.
I
followed
him
out
the
door
,
trying
to
think
of
a
way
to
soothe
him
down
--
I
did
n't
want
him
leaving
E
Block
the
way
he
was
now
,
sweaty
and
dishevelled
,
with
the
red
print
of
my
hand
still
on
his
cheek
.
The
other
three
followed
me
.
What
happened
then
happened
very
fast
--
it
was
all
over
in
no
more
than
a
minute
,
perhaps
even
less
.
Yet
I
remember
all
of
it
to
this
day
--
mostly
,
I
think
,
because
I
told
Janice
everything
when
I
got
home
and
that
set
it
in
my
mind
.
What
happened
afterward
--
the
dawn
meeting
with
Curtis
Anderson
,
the
inquest
,
the
press-meeting
Hal
Moores
set
up
for
us
(
he
was
back
by
then
,
of
course
)
,
and
the
eventual
Board
of
Enquiry
in
the
state
capital
--
those
things
have
blurred
over
the
years
like
so
much
else
in
my
memory
.
But
as
to
what
actually
happened
next
there
on
the
Green
Mile
,
yes
,
that
I
remember
perfectly
well
.
Percy
was
walking
up
the
right
side
of
the
Mile
with
his
head
lowered
,
and
I
'll
say
this
much
:
no
ordinary
Prisoner
could
have
reached
him
.
John
Coffey
was
n't
an
ordinary
prisoner
,
though
.
John
Coffey
was
a
giant
,
and
he
had
a
giant
's
reach
.
I
saw
his
long
brown
arms
shoot
out
from
between
the
bars
and
yelled
,
"
Watch
it
,
Percy
,
watch
it
!
"
Percy
started
to
turn
,
his
left
hand
dropping
to
the
butt
of
his
stick
.
Then
he
was
seized
and
yanked
against
the
front
of
John
Coffey
's
cell
,
the
right
side
of
his
face
smashing
into
the
bars
.
He
grunted
and
turned
toward
Coffey
,
raising
the
hickory
club
.
John
was
certainly
vulnerable
to
it
;
his
own
face
was
pressed
so
strenuously
into
the
space
between
two
of
the
center
bars
that
he
looked
as
if
he
was
trying
to
squeeze
his
entire
head
through
.
It
would
have
been
impossible
,
of
course
,
but
that
was
how
it
looked
.
His
right
hand
groped
,
found
the
nape
of
Percy
's
neck
,
curled
around
it
,
and
yanked
Percy
's
head
forward
.
Percy
brought
the
club
down
between
the
bars
and
onto
John
"
s
temple
.
Blood
flowed
,
but
John
paid
no
attention
.
His
mouth
pressed
against
Percy
's
mouth
.
I
heard
a
whispering
rush
--
an
exhalatory
sound
,
as
of
long-held
breath
.
Percy
jerked
like
a
fish
on
a
hook
,
trying
to
get
away
,
but
he
never
had
a
chance
;
John
"
s
right
hand
was
pressed
to
the
back
of
his
neck
,
holding
him
firm
.
Their
faces
seemed
to
melt
together
,
like
the
faces
of
lovers
I
have
seen
kissing
passionately
through
bars
.
Percy
screamed
,
the
sound
muffled
as
it
had
been
through
the
tape
,
and
made
another
effort
to
pull
back
.
For
an
instant
their
lips
came
apart
a
little
,
and
I
saw
the
black
,
swirling
tide
that
was
flowing
out
of
John
Coffey
and
into
Percy
Wetmore
.
What
was
n't
going
into
him
through
his
quivering
mouth
was
flowing
in
by
way
of
his
nostrils
.
Then
the
hand
on
the
nape
of
his
neck
flexed
,
and
Percy
was
pulled
forward
onto
John
"
s
mouth
again
;
was
almost
impaled
on
it
.
Percy
's
left
hand
sprang
open
.
His
treasured
hickory
baton
fell
to
the
green
linoleum
.
He
never
picked
it
up
again
.
