绿里奇迹(英文版)-第24部分

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s。　
〃Even　if　he　don't　get　a　stay；　that　mouse'd　be　shitting　in　that　box　until　October；　maybe　even　Thanksgiving；〃　Toot　argued；　but　Brutal　could　see　he　was　weakening。　〃Who　gonna　buy　a　cigar　box　some　mouse　been　using　for　a　toilet？〃　
〃Oh　jeez…Louise；〃　Brutal　said。　〃That's　the　numbest　thing　I've　ever　heard　you　say；　Toot。　I　mean；　that　takes　the　cake。　First；　Delacroix　will　keep　the　box　clean　enough　to　eat　a　church　dinner　out　of　…　the　way　he　loves　that　mouse；　he'd　lick　it　clean　if　that's　what　it　took。〃　
〃Easy　on　dat　stuff；〃　Toot　said；　wrinkling　his　nose。　
〃Second；〃　Brutal　went　on；　〃mouse…shit　is　no　big　deal；　anyway。　It's　just　hard　little　pellets；　looks　like　birdshot。　Shake　it　right　out。　Nothing　to　it！〃　
Old　Toot　knew　better　than　to　carry　his　protest　any　further；　he'd　been　on　the　yard　long　enough　to　understand　when　he　could　afford　to　face　into　the　breeze　and　when　he'd　do　better　to　bend　in　the　hurricane。　This　wasn't　exactly　a　hurricane；　but　we　bluesuits　liked　the　mouse；　and　we　liked　the　idea　of　Delacroix　having　the　mouse；　and　that　meant　it　was　at　least　a　gale。　So　Delacroix　got　his　box；　and　Percy　was　as　good　as　his　word　…　two　days　later　the　bottom　was　lined　with　soft　pads　of　cotton　batting　from　the　dispensary。　Percy　handed　them　over　himself；　and　I　could　see　the　fear　in　Delacroix's　eyes　as　he　reached　out　through　the　bars　to　take　them。　He　was　afraid　Percy　would　grab　his　hand　and　break　his　fingers。　I　was　a　little　afraid　of　it　too；　but　no　such　thing　happened。　That　was　the　closest　I　ever　came　to　liking　Percy；　but　even　then　it　was　hard　to　mistake　the　look　of　cool　amusement　in　his　eyes。　Delacroix　had　a　pet；　Percy　had　one　too。　Delacroix　would　keep　his；　petting　it　and　loving　it　as　long　as　he　could；　Percy　would　wait　patiently　（as　patiently　as　a　man　like　him　could　anyway）；　and　then　burn　his　alive。　
〃Mousie　Hilton；　open　for　business。〃　Harry　said。　〃The　only　question　is；　will　the　little　bugger　use　it？〃　
That　question　was　answered　as　soon　as　Delacroix　caught　Mr。　Jingles　up　in　one　hand　and　lowered　him　gently　into　the　box。　The　mouse　snuggled　into　the　white　cotton　as　if　it　were　Aunt　Bea's　forter；　and　that　was　his　home　from　then　until　。。。　well；　I'll　get　to　the　end　of　Mr。　Jingles's　story　in　good　time。　
Old　Toot…Toots　worries　that　the　cigar　box　would；　fill　up　with　mouse…shit　proved　to　be　entirely　groundless。　I　never　saw　a　single　turd　in　there；　and　Delacroix　said　he　never　did；　either；　anywhere　in　his　cell；　for　that　matter。　Much　later；　around　the　time　Brutal　showed　me　the　hole　in　the　beam　and　we　found　the　colored　splinters；　I　moved　a　chair　out　of　the　restraint　room's　east　corner　and　found　a　little　pile　of　mouse　turds　back　there。　He　had　always　gone　back　to　the　same　place　to　do　his　business；　seemingly；　and　as　far　from　us　as　he　could　get。　Here's　another　thing：　I　never　saw　him　peeing；　and　usually　mice　can　hardly　turn　the　faucet　off　for　two　minutes　at　a　time；　especially　while　they're　eating。　I　told　you；　the　damned　thing　was　one　of　God's　mysteries。　
A　week　or　so　after　Mr。　Jingles　had　settled　into　the　cigar　box；　Delacroix　called　me　and　Brutal　down　to　his　cell　to　see　something。　He　did　that　so　much　it　was　annoying　…　if　Mr。　Jingles　so　much　as　rolled　over　on　his　back　with　his　paws　in　the　air；　it　was　the　cutest　thing　on　God's　earth；　as　far　as　that　half…pint　Cajun　was　concerned　…　but　this　time　what　he　was　up　to　really　was　sort　of　amusing。　
Delacroix　had　been　pretty　much　forgotten　by　the　world　following　his　conviction；　but　he　had　one　relation　…　an　old　maiden　aunt；　I　believe　…　who　wrote　him　once　a　week。　She　had　also　sent　him　an　enormous　bag　of　peppermint　candies；　the　sort　which　are　marketed　under　the　name　Canada　Mints　these　days。　They　looked　like　big　pink　pills。　Delacroix　was　not　allowed　to　have　the　whole　bag　at　once；　naturally　…　it　was　a　five…pounder；　and　he　would　have　gobbled　them　until　he　had　to　go　to　the　infirmary　with　stomach…gripes。　Like　almost　every　murderer　we　ever　had　on　the　Mile；　he　had　absolutely　no　understanding　of　moderation。　We'd　give　them　out　to　him　half　a　dozen　at　a　time；　and　only　then　if　he　remembered　to　ask。　
Mr。　Jingles　was　sitting　beside　Delacroix　on　the　bunk　when　we　got　down　there；　holding　one　of　those　pink　candies　in　his　paws　and　munching　contentedly　away　at　it。　Delacroix　was　simply　overe　with　delight　…　he　was　like　a　classical　pianist　watching　his　five…year…old　son　play　his　first　halting　exercises。　But　don't　get　me　wrong；　it　was　funny；　a　real　hoot。　The　candy　was　half　the　size　of　Mr。　Jingles；　and　his　whitefurred　belly　was　already　distended　from　it。　
〃Take　it　away　from　him；　Eddie；〃　Brutal　said；　half…laughing　and　half…horrified。　〃Christ　almighty　Jesus；　he'll　eat　till　he　busts。　I　can　smell　that　peppermint　from　here。　How　many　have　you　let　him　have？〃　
〃This　his　second；〃　Delacroix　said；　looking　a　little　nervously　at　Mr。　Jingles's　belly。　〃You　really　think　he　。。。　you　know　。。。　bus'　his　guts？〃　
〃Might；〃　Brutal　said。　
That　was　enough　authority　for　Delacroix。　He　reached　for　the　half…eaten　pink　mint。　I　expected　the　mouse　to　nip　him；　but　Mr。　Jingles　gave　over　that　mint　…　what　remained　of　it；　anyway　…　as　meek　as　could　be。　I　looked　at　Brutal；　and　Brutal　gave　his　head　a　little　shake　as　if　to　say　no；　he　didn't　understand　it；　either。　Then　Mr。　Jingles　plopped　down　into　his　box　and　lay　there　on　his　side　in　an　exhausted　way　that　made　all　three　of　us　laugh。　After　that；　we　got　used　to　seeing　the　mouse　sitting　beside　Delacroix；　holding　a　mint　and　munching　away　on　it　just　as　neatly　as　an　old　lady　at　an　afternoon　tea…party；　both　of　them　surrounded　by　what　I　later　smelled　in　that　hole　in　the　beam　…　the　half…bitter；　half…sweet　smell　of　peppermint　candy。　
There's　one　more　thing　to　tell　you　about　Mr。　Jingles　before　moving　on　to　the　arrival　of　William　Wharton；　which　was　when　the　cyclone　really　touched　down　on　E　Block。　A　week　or　so　after　the　incident　of　the　peppermint　candies　…　around　the　time　when　we'd　pretty　much　decided　Delacroix　wasn't　going　to　feed　his　pet　to　death；　in　other　words　…　the　Frenchman　called　me　down　to　his　cell。　I　was　on　my　own　for　the　time　being；　Brutal　over　at　the　missary　for　something；　and　according　to　the　regs；　I　was　not　supposed　to　approach　a　prisoner　in　such　circumstances。　But　since　I　probably　could　have　shot…putted　Delacroix　twenty　yards　one…handed　on　a　good　day；　I　decided　to　break　the　rule　and　see　what　he　wanted。　
〃Watch　this；　Boss　Edgebe；〃　he　said。　〃You　gonna　see　what　Mr。　Jingles　can　do！〃　He　reached　behind　the　cigar　box　and　brought　up　a　small　wooden　spool。　
〃Where'd　you　get　that？〃　I　asked　him；　although　I　supposed　I　knew。　There　was　really　only　one　person　he　could　have　gotten　it　from。　
〃Old　Toot…Toot；〃　he　said。　'Watch　this。〃　
I　was　already　watching；　and　could　see　Mr。　Jingles　in　his　box；　standing　up　with　his　small　front　paws　propped　on　the　edge；　his　black　eyes　fixed　on　the　spool　Delacroix　was　holding　between　the　thumb　and　first　finger　of　his　right　hand。　I　felt　a　funny　little　chill　go　up　my　back。　I　had　never　seen　a　mere　mouse　attend　to　something　with　such　sharpness　…　with　such　intelligence。　I　don't　really　believe　that　Mr。　Jingles　was　a　supernatural　visitation；　and　if　I　have　given　you　that　idea；　I'm　sorry；　but　I　have　never　doubted　that　he　was　a　genius　of　his　kind。　
Delacroix　bent　over　and　rolled　the　threadless　spool　across　the　floor　of　his　cell。　It　went　easily；　like　a　pair　of　wheels　connected　by　an　axle。　The　mouse　was　out　of　his　box　in　a　flash　and　across　the　floor　after　it；　like　a　dog　chasing　after　a　stick。　I　exclaimed　with　surprise；　and　Delacroix　grinned。　
The　spool　hit　the　wall　and　rebounded。　Mr。　Jingles　went　around　it　and　pushed　it　back　to　the　bunk；　switching　from　one　end　of　the　spool　to　the　other　whenever　it　looked　like　it　was　going　to　veer　offcourse。　He　pushed　the　spool　until　it　hit　Delacroix's　foot。　Then　he　looked　up　at　him　for　a　moment；　as　if　to　make　sure　Delacroix　had　no　more　immediate　tasks　for　him　（a　few　arithmetic　problems　to　solve；　perhaps；　or　some　Latin　to　parse）。　Apparently　satisfied　on　this　score；　Mr。　Jingles　went　back　to　the　cigar　box　and　settled　down　in　it　again。　
〃You　taught　him　that；〃　I　said。　
〃Yessir；　Boss　Edgebe；〃　Delacroix　said；　his　smile　only　slightly　dissembling。　〃He　fetch　it　every　time。　Smart　as　hell；　ain't　he？〃　
〃And　the　spool？〃　I　asked。　〃How　did　you　know　to　fetch　that　for　him；　Eddie？〃　
〃He　whisper