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with paper flowers and … 〃
〃SHUT up！〃 Elaine screamed at him； so…loudly and so powerfully that he backed away a step； the smile slipping off his face。 〃GETOUT OF HERE！ GET OUT OR YOU'LL NEVER WORK ANOTHER DAY HERE！ NOT ANOTHER HOUR！ I SWEAR IT！〃
〃You won't be able to get so much as a slice of bread on a breadline；〃 I said； but so low neither of them heard me。 I couldn't take my eyes off Mr。 Jingles； lying on Elaine's palm like the world's smallest bearskin rug。
Brad thought about ing back at her； calling her bluff he was right； the shed wasn't exactly approved territory for the Georgia Pines inmates； even I knew that much … and then didn't。 He was； at heart； a coward； just like Percy。 And he might have checked on her claim that her grandson was Somebody Important and had discovered it was a true claim。 Most of all； perhaps； his curiosity had been satisfied； his thirst to know slaked。 And after all his wondering； the mystery had turned out not to be such of a much。 An old man's pet mouse had apparently been living in the shed。 Now it had croaked； had a heart attack or something while pushing a colored spool。
〃Don't know why you're getting so het up；〃 he said。 〃Either of you。 You act like it was a dog； or something。〃
〃Get out；〃 she spat。 〃Get out； you ignorant man。 What little mind you have is ugly and misdirected。〃
He flushed dully； the spots where his high school pimples had been filling in a darker red。 There had been a lot of them； by the look。 〃I'll go；〃 he said； 〃but when you e down here tomorrow。。。 Paulie 。。。 you're going to find a new lock on this door。 This place is off…limits to the residents； no matter what bad…tempered things old Mrs。 My Shit Don't Stink has to say about me。 Look at the floor！ Boards all warped and rotted！ If you was to go through； your scrawny old leg'd be apt to snap like a piece of kindling。 So just take that dead mouse； if you want it； and get gone。 The Love Shack is hereby closed。〃
He turned and strode away； looking like a man who believes he's earned at least a draw。 I waited until he was gone； and then gently took Mr。 Jingles from Elaine。 My eyes happened on the bag with the peppermint candies in it； and that did it … the tears began to e。 I don't know； I just cry easier somehow these days。
〃Would you help me to bury an old friend？〃 I asked Elaine when Brad Dolan's heavy footsteps had faded away。
〃Yes； Paul。〃 She put her arm around my waist and laid her head against my shoulder。 With one old and twisted finger； she stroked Mr。 Jingles's moveless side。 〃I would be happy to do that。〃
And so we borrowed a trowel from the gardening shed and we buried Del's pet mouse as the afternoon shadows drew long through the trees； and then we walked back to get our supper and take up what remained of our lives。 And it was Del I found myself thinking of； Del kneeling on the green carpet of my office with his hands folded and his bald pate gleaming in the lamplight； Del who had asked us to take care of Mr。 Jingles； to make sure the bad 'un wouldn't hurt him anymore。 Except the bad 'un hurts us all in the end； doesn't he？
〃Paul？〃 Elaine asked。 Her voice was both kind and exhausted。 Even digging a grave with a trowel and laying a mouse to rest in it is a lot of excitement for old sweeties like us； I guess。 〃Are you all right？〃
My arm was around her fine；〃 I said。
〃Look；〃 she said。 〃It's going to be a beautiful sunset。 Shall we stay out and watch it？〃
〃All right；〃 I said； and we stayed there on the las around each other's waists； first watching the bright colors e up in the sky； then watching them fade to ashes of gray。
Sainte Marie； Mere de Dieu； priez pour nous； pauvres pecheurs； maintenant et a l'heure de notre mort。
Amen。
13。
1956。
Alabama in the rain。
Our third grandchild； a beautiful girl named Tessa； was graduating from the University of Florida。 We went down on a Greyhound。 Sixty…four； I was then； a mere stripling。 Jan was fifty…nine； and as beautiful as ever。 To me； at least。 We were sitting in the seat all the way at the back； and she was fussing at me for not buying her a new camera to record the blessed event。 I opened my mouth to tell her we had a day to shop in after we got down there； and she could have a new camera if she wanted one； it would fit the budget all right； and furthermore I thought she was just fussing because she was bored with the ride and didn't like the book she'd brought。 A Perry Mason； it was。 That's when everything in my memory goes white for a bit； like film that's been left out in the sun。
Do you remember that accident？ I suppose a few folks reading this might； but mostly not。 Yet it made front…page headlines from coast to coast when it happened。 We were outside Birmingham in a driving rain； Janice plaining about her old camera； and a tire blew。 The bus waltzed sideways on the wet pavement and was hit broadside by a truck hauling fertilizer。 The truck slammed the bus into a bridge abutment at better than sixty miles an hour； crushed it against the concrete； and broke it in half。 Two shiny； rain…streaked pieces spun in two opposite directions； the one with the diesel tank in it exploding and sending a red…black fireball up into the rainygray sky。 At one moment Janice was plaining about her old Kodak； and at the very next I found myself lying on the far side of the underpass in the rain and staring at a pair of blue nylon panties that had spilled out of someone's suitcase。 WEDNESDAY was stitched on them in black thread。 There were burst…open suitcases everywhere。 And bodies。 And parts of bodies。 There were seventy…three people on that bus； and only four survived the crash。 I was one of them； the only one not seriously hurt。
I got up and staggered among the burst…open suitcases and shattered people； crying out my wife's name。 I kicked aside an alarm clock； I remember that； and I remember seeing a dead boy of about thirteen lying in a strew of glass with P。F。 Flyers on his feet and half his face gone。 I felt the rain beating on my own face； then I went through the underpass and it was gone for awhile。 When I came out on the other side it was there again； hammering my cheeks and forehead。 Lying by the shattered cab of the overturned fertilizer truck； I saw Jan。 I recognized her by her red dress … it was her second…best。 The best she had been saving for the actual graduation； of course。
She wasn't quite dead。 I have often thought it would have been better … for me； if not for her … if she had been killed instantly。 It might have made it possible for me to let her go a little sooner； a little more naturally。 Or perhaps I'm only kidding myself about that。 All I know for sure is that I have never let her go； not really。
She was trembling all over。 One of her shoes had e off and I could see her foot jittering。 Her eyes were open but blank； the left one full of blood； and as I fell on my knees next to her in the smoky…smelling rain； all I could think of was that jitter meant she was being electrocuted； she was being electrocuted and I had to hold the roll before it was too late。
〃Help me！〃 I screamed。 〃Help me； someone help me！〃
No one helped； no one even came。 The rain pounded down … a hard； soaking rain that flattened
My still…black hair against my skull … and I held her in my arms and no one came。 Her blank eyes looked up at me with a kind of dazed intensity； and blood poured from the back of her crushed head in a freshet。 Beside one trembling； mindlessly spasming hand was a piece of chromed steel with the letters GREY on it。 Next to that was roughly one quarter of what had once been a businessman in a brown Wool suit。
〃Help me！〃 I screamed again； and turned toward the underpass； and there I saw John Coffey standing in the shadows； only a shadow himself； a big man with long； dangling arms and a bald head。 〃John！〃 I screamed。 〃Oh John ； please help me！ Please help Janice！〃
Rain ran into my eyes。 I blinked it away； and he was gone。 I could see the shadows I had mistaken for John 。。。 but it hadn't been only shadows。 I'm sure of that。 He was there。 Maybe only as a ghost； but he was there； the rain on his face mixing with the endless flow of his tears。
She died in my arms； there in the rain beside that ferti