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"
Nah
,
"
Dean
said
,
"
he
knows
you
're
a
floater
,
that
's
all
.
"
"
Floater
,
am
I
?
I
like
that
!
I
'm
here
almost
as
much
as
Harry
Terwilliger
!
Maybe
more
!
"
"
Simmer
down
,
old-timer
,
simmer
down
,
"
Dean
said
,
grinning
.
"
But
watch
and
see
if
I
'm
not
right
.
"
He
bombed
another
piece
of
cracker
over
the
side
.
Sure
enough
,
the
mouse
picked
that
one
up
and
began
to
eat
again
,
still
ignoring
Bill
Dodge
's
contribution
completely
.
But
before
it
had
done
more
than
take
a
preliminary
nibble
or
two
,
Percy
threw
his
baton
at
it
,
launching
it
like
a
spear
.
The
mouse
was
a
small
target
,
and
give
the
devil
his
due
--
it
was
a
wickedly
good
shot
,
and
might
have
taken
"
Willy
's
"
head
clean
off
,
if
its
reflexes
had
n't
been
as
sharp
as
shards
of
broken
glass
.
It
ducked
--
yes
,
just
as
a
human
being
would
have
--
and
dropped
the
chunk
of
cracker
.
The
heavy
hickory
baton
passed
over
its
head
and
spine
close
enough
so
its
fur
ruffled
(
that
's
what
Dean
said
,
anyway
,
and
so
I
pass
it
on
,
although
I
'm
not
sure
I
really
believe
it
)
,
then
hit
the
green
linoleum
and
bounced
against
the
bars
of
an
empty
cell
.
The
mouse
did
n't
wait
to
see
if
it
was
a
mistake
;
apparently
remembering
a
pressing
engagement
elsewhere
,
it
turned
and
was
off
down
the
corridor
toward
the
restraint
room
in
a
flash
.
Percy
roared
with
frustration
--
he
knew
how
close
he
had
come
--
and
chased
after
it
again
.
Bill
Dodge
grabbed
at
his
arm
,
probably
out
of
simple
instinct
,
but
Percy
pulled
away
from
him
.
Still
,
Dean
said
,
it
was
probably
that
grab
which
saved
Steamboat
Willy
's
life
,
and
it
was
still
a
near
thing
.
Percy
wanted
not
just
to
kill
the
mouse
but
to
squash
it
,
so
he
ran
in
big
,
comical
leaps
,
like
a
deer
,
stamping
down
with
his
heavy
black
workshoes
.
The
mouse
barely
avoided
Percy
's
last
two
jumps
,
first
zigging
and
then
zagging
.
It
went
under
the
door
with
a
final
flick
of
its
long
pink
tail
,
and
so
long
,
stranger
--
it
was
gone
.
"
Fuck
!
"
Percy
said
,
and
slammed
the
flat
of
his
hand
against
the
door
.
Then
he
began
to
sort
through
his
keys
,
meaning
to
go
into
the
restraint
room
and
continue
the
chase
.
Dean
came
down
the
corridor
after
him
,
deliberately
walking
slow
in
order
to
get
his
emotions
under
control
.
Part
of
him
wanted
to
laugh
at
Percy
,
he
told
me
,
but
part
of
him
wanted
to
grab
the
man
,
whirl
him
around
,
pin
him
against
the
restraint-room
door
,
and
whale
the
living
daylights
out
of
him
.
Most
of
it
,
of
course
,
was
just
being
startled
;
our
job
on
E
Block
was
to
keep
rumpus
to
a
minimum
,
and
rumpus
was
practically
Percy
Wetmore
's
middle
name
.
Working
with
him
was
sort
of
like
trying
to
defuse
a
bomb
with
somebody
standing
behind
you
and
every
now
and
then
clashing
a
pair
of
cymbals
together
.
In
a
word
,
upsetting
.
Dean
said
he
could
see
that
upset
in
Arlen
Bitterbucks
eyes
...
even
in
The
President
's
eyes
,
although
that
gentleman
was
usually
as
cool
as
the
storied
cucumber
.
And
there
was
something
else
,
as
well
.
In
some
part
of
his
mind
,
Dean
had
already
begun
to
accept
the
mouse
as
--
well
,
maybe
not
as
a
friend
,
but
as
a
part
of
life
on
the
block
.
That
made
what
Percy
had
done
and
what
he
was
trying
to
do
not
right
.
Not
even
if
it
was
a
mouse
he
was
trying
to
do
it
to
.
And
the
fact
that
Percy
would
never
understand
how
come
it
was
n't
right
was
pretty
much
the
perfect
example
of
why
he
was
all
wrong
for
the
job
he
thought
he
was
doing
.
By
the
time
Dean
reached
the
end
of
the
corridor
,
he
had
gotten
himself
under
control
again
,
and
knew
how
he
wanted
to
handle
the
matter
.
