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John
Coffey
came
to
E
Block
and
the
Green
Mile
in
October
of
that
year
,
condemned
for
the
murder
of
the
nine-year-old
Detterick
twins
.
That
's
my
major
landmark
,
and
if
I
keep
it
in
view
,
I
should
do
just
fine
.
William
"
Wild
Bill
"
Wharton
came
after
Coffey
;
Delacroix
came
before
.
So
did
the
mouse
,
the
one
Brutus
Howell
--
Brutal
,
to
his
friends
--
called
Steamboat
Willy
and
Delacroix
ended
up
calling
Mr.
Jingles
.
Whatever
you
called
him
,
the
mouse
came
first
,
even
before
Del
--
it
was
still
summer
when
he
showed
up
,
and
we
had
two
other
prisoners
on
the
Green
Mile
:
The
Chief
,
Arlen
Bitterbuck
;
and
The
Pres
,
Arthur
Flanders
.
That
mouse
.
That
goddam
mouse
.
Delacroix
loved
it
,
but
Percy
Wetmore
sure
did
n't
.
Percy
hated
it
from
the
first
.
The
mouse
came
back
just
about
three
days
after
Percy
had
chased
it
down
the
Green
Mile
that
first
time
.
Dean
Stanton
and
Bill
Dodge
were
talking
politics
...
which
meant
in
those
days
,
they
were
talking
Roosevelt
and
Hoover
--
Herbert
,
not
J.
Edgar
.
They
were
eating
Ritz
crackers
from
a
box
Dean
had
purchased
from
old
Toot-Toot
an
hour
or
so
before
.
Percy
was
standing
in
the
office
doorway
,
practicing
quick
draws
with
the
baton
he
loved
so
much
,
as
he
listened
.
He
'd
pull
it
out
of
that
ridiculous
handtooled
holster
he
'd
gotten
somewhere
,
then
twirl
it
(
or
try
to
;
most
times
he
would
have
dropped
it
if
not
for
the
rawhide
loop
he
kept
on
his
wrist
)
,
then
re-holster
it
.
I
was
off
that
night
,
but
got
the
full
report
from
Dean
the
following
evening
.
The
mouse
came
up
the
Green
Mile
just
as
it
had
before
,
hopping
along
,
then
stopping
and
seeming
to
check
the
empty
cells
.
After
a
bit
of
that
it
would
hop
on
,
undiscouraged
,
as
if
it
had
known
all
along
it
would
be
a
long
search
,
and
it
was
up
to
that
.
The
President
was
awake
this
time
,
standing
at
his
cell
door
.
That
guy
was
a
piece
of
work
,
managing
to
look
natty
even
in
his
prison
blues
.
We
knew
just
by
the
way
he
looked
that
he
was
n't
made
for
Old
Sparky
,
and
we
were
right
--
less
than
a
week
after
Percy
's
second
run
at
that
mouse
,
The
Pres
's
sentence
was
commuted
to
life
and
he
joined
the
general
population
.
"
Say
!
"
he
called
.
"
'
There
's
a
mouse
in
here
!
What
kind
of
a
joint
are
you
guys
running
,
anyway
?
"
He
was
kind
of
laughing
,
but
Dean
said
he
also
sounded
kind
of
outraged
,
as
if
even
a
murder
rap
had
n't
been
quite
enough
to
knock
the
Kiwanis
out
of
his
soul
.
He
had
been
the
regional
head
of
an
outfit
called
Mid-South
Realty
Associates
,
and
had
thought
himself
smart
enough
to
be
able
to
get
away
with
pushing
his
half-senile
father
out
a
third-story
window
and
collect
on
a
double-indemnity
whole-life
policy
.
On
that
he
had
been
wrong
,
but
maybe
not
by
much
.
"
Shut
up
,
you
lugoon
,
"
Percy
said
,
but
that
was
pretty
much
automatic
.
He
had
his
eye
on
the
mouse
.
He
had
re-holstered
his
baton
and
taken
out
one
of
his
magazines
,
but
now
he
tossed
the
magazine
on
the
duty
desk
and
pulled
the
baton
out
of
its
holster
again
.
He
began
tapping
it
casually
against
the
knuckles
of
his
left
hand
.
