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"
I
've
got
a
better
one
,
"
Harry
said
.
"
How
'd
he
know
Percy
was
off
?
"
"
He
did
n't
,
"
I
said
.
"
It
was
just
coincidence
,
that
mouse
showing
up
tonight
.
"
Except
that
got
harder
and
harder
to
believe
as
the
days
went
by
and
the
mouse
showed
up
only
when
Percy
was
off
,
on
another
shift
,
or
in
another
part
of
the
prison
.
We
--
Harry
,
Dean
,
Brutal
,
and
me
--
decided
that
it
must
know
Percy
's
voice
,
or
his
smell
.
We
carefully
avoided
too
much
discussion
about
the
mouse
itself
--
himself
.
That
,
we
seemed
to
have
decided
without
saying
a
word
,
might
go
a
long
way
toward
spoiling
something
that
was
special
,
and
beautiful
,
by
virtue
of
its
strangeness
and
delicacy
.
Willy
had
chosen
us
,
after
all
,
in
some
way
I
do
not
understand
,
even
now
Maybe
Harry
came
closest
when
he
said
it
would
do
no
good
to
tell
other
people
,
not
just
because
they
would
n't
believe
but
because
they
would
n't
care
.
Then
it
was
time
for
the
execution
of
Arlen
Bitterbuck
,
in
reality
no
chief
but
first
elder
of
his
tribe
on
the
Washita
Reservation
,
and
a
member
of
the
Cherokee
Council
as
well
.
He
had
killed
a
man
while
drunk
--
while
both
of
them
were
drunk
,
in
fact
.
The
Chief
had
crushed
the
man
's
head
with
a
cement
block
.
At
issue
had
been
a
pair
of
boots
.
So
,
on
July
seventeenth
of
that
rainy
summer
,
my
council
of
elders
intended
for
his
life
to
end
.
Visiting
hours
for
most
Cold
Mountain
prisoners
were
as
rigid
as
steel
beams
,
but
that
did
n't
hold
for
our
boys
on
E
Block
.
So
,
on
the
sixteenth
,
Bitterbuck
was
allowed
over
to
the
long
room
adjacent
to
the
cafeteria
--
the
Arcade
.
It
was
divided
straight
down
the
middle
by
mesh
interwoven
with
strands
of
barbed
wire
.
Here
The
Chief
would
visit
with
his
second
wife
and
those
of
his
children
who
would
still
treat
with
him
.
It
was
time
for
the
good-byes
.
He
was
taken
over
there
by
Bill
Dodge
and
two
other
floaters
.
The
rest
of
us
had
work
to
do
--
one
hour
to
cram
in
at
least
two
rehearsals
.
Three
,
if
we
could
manage
it
.
Percy
did
n't
make
much
protest
over
being
put
in
the
switch
room
with
Jack
Van
Hay
for
the
Bitterbuck
electrocution
;
he
was
too
green
to
know
if
he
was
being
given
a
good
spot
or
a
bad
one
.
What
he
did
know
was
that
he
had
a
rectangular
mesh
window
to
look
through
,
and
although
he
probably
did
n't
care
to
be
looking
at
the
back
of
the
chair
instead
of
the
front
,
he
would
still
be
close
enough
to
see
the
sparks
flying
.
Right
outside
that
window
was
a
black
wall
telephone
with
no
crank
or
dial
on
it
.
That
phone
could
only
ring
in
,
and
only
from
one
place
:
the
governor
's
office
.
I
've
seen
lots
of
jailhouse
movies
over
the
years
where
the
official
phone
rings
just
as
they
're
getting
ready
to
pull
the
switch
on
some
poor
innocent
sap
,
but
ours
never
rang
during
all
my
years
on
E
Block
,
never
once
.
In
the
movies
,
salvation
is
cheap
.
So
is
innocence
.
You
pay
a
quarter
,
and
a
quarter
's
worth
is
just
what
you
get
.
Real
life
costs
more
,
and
most
of
the
answers
are
different
.
We
had
a
tailor
's
dummy
down
in
the
tunnel
for
the
run
to
the
meatwagon
,
and
we
had
Old
Toot-Toot
for
the
rest
.
Over
the
years
,
Toot
had
somehow
become
the
traditional
stand-in
for
the
condemned
,
as
time-honored
in
his
way
as
the
goose
you
sit
down
to
on
Christmas
,
whether
you
like
goose
or
not
.
Most
of
the
other
screws
liked
him
,
were
amused
by
his
funny
accent
--
also
French
,
but
Canadian
rather
than
Cajun
,
and
softened
into
its
own
thing
by
his
years
of
incarceration
in
the
South
.
Even
Brutal
got
a
kick
out
of
Old
Toot
.
Not
me
,
though
.
I
thought
he
was
,
in
his
way
,
an
older
and
dimmer
version
of
Percy
Wetmore
,
a
man
too
squeamish
to
kill
and
cook
his
own
meat
but
who
did
,
all
the
same
,
just
love
the
smell
of
a
barbecue
.
