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"
Is
it
...
scary
?
"
In
her
timid
look
I
saw
the
little
girl
she
had
been
back
when
men
wore
straw
boaters
in
the
summer
and
raccoon
coats
in
the
winter
.
"
No
,
"
I
said
,
smiling
.
"
Not
scary
.
"
"
All
right
.
"
She
took
the
pages
.
"
I
'm
going
to
take
these
down
to
my
room
.
I
'll
see
you
out
on
the
croquet
course
around
...
"
She
riffled
the
manuscript
,
estimating
.
"
Four
?
Is
that
all
right
?
"
"
Perfect
,
"
I
said
,
thinking
of
the
too-curious
Brad
Dolan
.
He
would
be
gone
by
then
.
She
reached
out
,
gave
my
arm
a
little
squeeze
,
and
left
the
room
.
I
stood
where
I
was
for
a
moment
,
looking
down
at
the
table
,
taking
in
the
fact
that
it
was
bare
again
except
for
the
breakfast
tray
Elaine
had
brought
me
that
morning
,
my
scattered
papers
at
last
gone
.
I
somehow
could
n't
believe
I
was
done
...
and
as
you
can
see
,
since
all
this
was
written
after
I
recorded
John
Coffey
's
execution
and
gave
the
last
batch
of
pages
to
Elaine
,
I
was
not
.
And
even
then
,
part
of
me
knew
why
.
Alabama
.
I
filched
the
last
piece
of
cold
toast
off
the
tray
,
went
downstairs
,
and
out
onto
the
croquet
course
.
There
I
sat
in
the
sun
,
watching
half
a
dozen
pairs
and
one
slow
but
cheerful
foursome
pass
by
waving
their
mallets
,
thinking
my
old
man
's
thoughts
and
letting
the
sun
warm
my
old
man
's
bones
.
Around
two-forty-five
,
the
three-to-eleven
shift
started
to
trickle
in
from
the
parking
lot
,
and
at
three
,
the
day-shift
folks
left
.
Most
were
in
groups
,
but
Brad
Dolan
,
I
saw
,
was
walking
alone
.
That
was
sort
of
a
happy
sight
;
maybe
the
world
has
n't
gone
entirely
to
hell
,
after
all
.
One
of
his
joke-books
was
sticking
out
of
his
back
pocket
.
The
path
to
the
parking
lot
goes
by
the
croquet
course
,
so
he
saw
me
there
,
but
he
did
n't
give
me
either
a
wave
or
a
scowl
.
That
was
fine
by
me
.
He
got
into
his
old
Chevrolet
with
the
bumper
sticker
reading
I
HAVE
SEEN
GOD
AND
HIS
NAME
IS
NEWT
.
Then
he
was
gone
to
wherever
he
goes
when
he
is
n't
here
,
laying
a
thin
trail
of
discount
motor
oil
behind
.
