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"
All
right
,
John
,
"
I
murmured
.
Brutal
put
the
mask
back
.
From
behind
us
,
Homer
Cribus
called
out
indignantly
in
his
deep-dish
cracker
voice
:
"
Say
,
boy
!
Put
that-air
mask
on
him
!
Think
we
want
to
watch
his
eyes
pop
?
"
"
Be
quiet
,
sir
,
"
I
said
without
turning
.
"
This
is
an
execution
,
and
you
're
not
in
charge
of
it
.
"
"
Any
more
than
you
were
in
charge
of
catching
him
,
you
tub
of
guts
,
"
Harry
whispered
.
Harry
died
in
1982
,
close
to
the
age
of
eighty
.
An
old
man
.
Not
in
my
league
,
of
course
,
but
few
are
.
It
was
intestinal
cancer
of
some
kind
.
Brutal
bent
over
and
plucked
the
disk
of
sponge
out
of
its
bucket
.
He
pressed
a
finger
into
it
and
licked
the
tip
,
but
he
hardly
had
to
;
I
could
see
the
ugly
brown
thing
dripping
.
He
tucked
it
into
the
cap
,
then
put
the
cap
on
John
"
s
head
.
For
the
first
time
I
saw
that
Brutal
was
pale
,
too
--
pasty
white
,
on
the
verge
of
passing
out
.
I
thought
of
him
saying
that
he
felt
,
for
the
first
time
in
his
life
,
that
he
was
in
danger
of
hell
,
because
we
were
fixing
to
kill
a
gift
of
God
.
I
felt
a
sudden
strong
need
to
retch
.
I
controlled
it
,
but
only
with
an
effort
.
Water
from
the
sponge
was
dripping
down
the
sides
of
John
"
s
face
.
Dean
Stanton
ran
the
strap
--
let
out
to
its
maximum
length
on
this
occasion
--
across
John
"
s
chest
and
gave
it
to
me
.
We
had
taken
such
pains
to
try
and
protect
Dean
on
the
night
of
our
trip
,
because
of
his
kids
,
never
knowing
that
he
had
less
than
four
months
to
live
.
After
John
Coffey
,
he
requested
and
received
a
transfer
away
from
Old
Sparky
,
over
to
C
Block
,
and
there
a
prisoner
stabbed
him
in
the
throat
with
a
shank
and
let
out
his
life
's
blood
on
the
dirty
board
floor
.
I
never
knew
why
.
I
do
n't
think
anyone
ever
knew
why
.
Old
Sparky
seems
such
a
thing
of
perversity
when
I
look
back
on
those
days
,
such
a
deadly
bit
of
folly
.
Fragile
as
blown
glass
,
we
are
,
even
under
the
best
of
conditions
.
To
kill
each
other
with
gas
and
electricity
,
and
in
cold
blood
?
The
folly
.
The
horror
.
Brutal
checked
the
strap
,
then
stood
back
.
I
waited
for
him
to
speak
,
but
he
did
n't
.
As
he
crossed
his
hands
behind
his
back
and
stood
at
parade
rest
,
I
knew
that
he
would
n't
.
Perhaps
could
n't
.
I
did
n't
think
I
could
,
either
,
but
then
I
looked
at
John
"
s
terrified
,
weeping
eyes
and
knew
I
had
to
.
Even
if
it
damned
me
forever
,
I
had
to
.
"
Roll
on
two
,
"
I
said
in
a
dusty
,
cracking
voice
I
hardly
recognized
as
my
own
.
