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And
she
did
n't
ask
.
There
were
no
thunderstorms
on
the
night
it
came
John
Coffey
's
turn
to
walk
the
Green
Mile
.
It
was
seasonably
cold
for
those
parts
at
that
time
of
year
,
in
the
thirties
,
I
'd
guess
,
and
a
million
stars
spilled
across
used-up
,
picked-out
fields
where
frost
glittered
on
fenceposts
and
glowed
like
diamonds
on
the
dry
skeletons
of
July
's
corn
.
Brutus
Howell
was
out
front
for
this
one
--
he
would
do
the
capping
and
tell
Van
Hay
to
roll
when
it
was
time
.
Bill
Dodge
was
in
with
Van
Hay
.
And
at
around
eleven-twenty
on
the
night
of
November
20th
,
Dean
and
Harry
and
I
went
down
to
our
one
occupied
cell
,
where
John
Coffey
sat
on
the
end
of
his
bunk
with
his
hands
clasped
between
his
knees
and
a
tiny
dab
of
meatloaf
gravy
on
the
collar
of
his
blue
shirt
.
He
looked
out
through
the
bars
at
us
,
a
lot
calmer
than
we
felt
,
it
seemed
.
My
hands
were
cold
and
my
temples
were
throbbing
.
It
was
one
thing
to
know
he
was
willing
--
it
made
it
at
least
possible
for
us
to
do
our
job
--
but
it
was
another
to
know
we
were
going
to
electrocute
him
for
someone
else
's
crime
.
I
had
last
seen
Hal
Moores
around
seven
that
evening
.
He
was
in
his
office
,
buttoning
up
his
overcoat
.
His
face
was
pale
,
his
hands
shaking
so
badly
that
he
was
making
quite
some
production
of
those
buttons
.
I
almost
wanted
to
knock
his
fingers
aside
and
do
the
coat
up
myself
,
like
you
would
with
a
little
kid
.
The
irony
was
that
Melinda
had
looked
better
when
Jan
and
I
went
to
see
her
the
previous
weekend
than
Hal
had
looked
earlier
on
John
Coffey
's
execution
evening
.
"
I
wo
n't
be
staying
for
this
one
,
"
he
had
said
.
"
Curtis
will
be
there
,
and
I
know
Coffey
will
be
in
good
hands
with
you
and
Brutus
.
"
"
Yes
,
sir
,
we
'll
do
our
best
,
"
I
said
.
"
Is
there
any
word
on
Percy
?
"
Is
he
coming
back
around
?
is
what
I
meant
,
of
course
.
Is
he
even
now
sitting
in
a
room
somewhere
and
telling
someone
--
some
doctor
,
most
likely
--
about
how
we
zipped
him
into
the
nut-coat
and
threw
him
into
the
restraint
room
like
any
other
problem
child
...
any
other
lugoon
,
in
Percy
's
language
?
And
if
he
is
,
are
they
believing
him
?
But
according
to
Hal
,
Percy
was
just
the
same
.
Not
talking
,
and
not
,
so
far
as
anyone
could
tell
,
in
the
world
at
all
.
He
was
still
at
Indianola
--
"
being
evaluated
,
"
Hal
had
said
,
looking
mystified
at
the
phrase
--
but
if
there
was
no
improvement
,
he
would
be
moving
along
soon
.
"
How
's
Coffey
holding
up
?
"
Hal
had
asked
then
.
He
had
finally
managed
to
do
up
the
last
button
of
his
coat
.
I
nodded
.
"
He
'll
be
fine
,
Warden
.
"
He
'd
nodded
back
,
then
gone
to
the
door
,
looking
old
and
ill
.
"
How
can
so
much
good
and
so
much
evil
live
together
in
the
same
man
?
How
could
the
man
who
cured
my
wife
be
the
same
man
who
killed
those
little
girls
?
Do
you
understand
that
?
"
