绿里奇迹(英文版)-第32部分

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f　the　way　closed　in　an　expression　that　looked　like　ecstasy。　Delacroix　kissed　its　nose；　and　the　mouse　allowed　its　nose　to　be　kissed。　Then　it　took　the　offered　piece　of　candy　and　began　to　munch　it。　Delacroix　looked　at　it　a　moment　longer；　then　looked　at　me。　All　at　once　I　got　it。　
〃The　mouse　told　you；〃　I　said。　〃Am　I　right？〃　
〃Oui。〃　
〃Like　he　whispered　his　name　to　you。〃　
〃Oui；　in　my　ear　he　whisper　it。〃　
〃Lie　down；　Del；〃　I　said。　〃Have　you　a　little　rest。　All　that　whispering　back　and　forth　must　wear　you　out。〃　
He　said　something　else…accused　me　of　not　believing　him；　I　suppose。　His　voice　seemed　to　be　ing　from　a　long　way　off　again。　And　when　I　went　back　up　to　the　duty　desk；　I　hardly　seemed　to　be　walking　at　all　…　it　was　more　like　I　was　floating；　or　maybe　not　even　moving；　the　cells　just　rolling　past　me　on　either　side；　movie　props　on　hidden　wheels。　
I　started　to　sit　like　normal；　but　halfway　into　it　my　knees　unlocked　and　I　dropped　onto　the　blue　cushion　Harry　had　brought　from　home　the　year　before　and　plopped　onto　the　seat　of　the　chair。　If　the　chair　hadn't　been　there；　I　reckon　I　would　have　plopped　straight　to　the　floor　without　passing　Go　or　collecting　two　hundred　dollars。　
I　sat　there；　feeling　the　nothing　in　my　groin　where　a　forest　fire　had　been　blazing　not　ten　minutes　before。　I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　John　Coffey　had　said；　and　that　was　true；　as　far　as　my　body　went。　My　peace　of　mind　was　a　different　story；　though。　That　he　hadn't　helped　at　all。　
My　eyes　fell　on　the　stack　of　forms　under　the　tin　ashtray　we　kept　on　the　corner　of　the　desk。　BLOCK　REPORT　was　printed　at　the　top；　and　about　halfway　down　was　a　blank　space　headed　Report　All　Unusual　Occurrences。　I　would　use　that　space　in　tonight's　report；　telling　the　story　of　William　Wharton's　colorful　and　action…packed　arrival。　But　suppose　I　also　told　what　had　happened　to　me　in　John　Coffey's　cell？　I　saw　myself　picking　up　the　pencil　…　the　one　whose　tip　Brutal　was　always　licking　…　and　writing　a　single　word　in　big　capital　letters：　MIRACLE。　
That　should　have　been　funny；　but　instead　of　smiling；　all　at　once　I　felt　sure　that　I　was　going　to　cry　I　put　my　hands　to　my　face；　palms　against　my　mouth　to　stifle　the　sobs　…　I　didn't　want　to　scare　Del　again　just　when　he　was　starting　to　get　settled　down　…　but　no　sobs　came。　No　tears；　either。　After　a　few　moments　I　lowered　my　hands　back　to　the　desk　and　folded　them。　I　didn't　know　what　I　was　feeling；　and　the　only　clear　thought　in　my　head　was　a　wish　that　no　one　should　e　back　onto　the　block　until　I　was　a　little　more　in　control　of　myself。　I　was　afraid　of　what　they　might　see　in　my　face。　
I　drew　a　Block　Report　form　toward　me。　I　would　wait　until　I　had　settled　down　a　bit　more　to　write　about　how　my　latest　problem　child　had　almost　strangled　Dean　Stanton；　but　I　could　fill　out　the　rest　of　the　boilerplate　foolishness　in　the　meantime。　I　thought　my　handwriting　might　look　funny　…　trembly　…　but　it　came　out　about　the　same　as　always。　
About　five　minutes　after　I　started；　I　put　the　pencil　down　and　went　into　the　W。C。　adjacent　to　my　office　to　take　a　leak。　I　didn't　need　to　go　very　bad；　but　I　could　manage　enough　to　test　what　had　happened　to　me；　I　thought。　As　I　stood　there；　waiting　for　my　water　to　flow；　I　became　sure　that　it　would　hurt　just　the　way　it　had　that　morning；　as　if　I　were　passing　tiny　shards　of　broken　glass；　what　he'd　done　to　me　would　turn　out　to　be　only　hypnosis；　after　all；　and　that　might　be　a　relief　in　spite　of　the　pain。　
Except　there　was　no　pain；　and　what　went　into　the　bowl　was　clear；　with　no　sign　of　pus。　I　buttoned　my　fly；　pulled　the　chain　that　flushed　the　mode；　went　back　to　the　duty　desk；　and　sat　down　again。　
I　knew　what　had　happened；　I　suppose　I　knew　even　when　I　was　trying　to　tell　myself　I'd　been　hypnotized。　I'd　experienced　a　healing；　an　authentic　Praise　Jesus；　The　Lord　Is　Mighty。　As　a　boy　who'd　grown　up　going　to　whatever　Baptist　or　Pentecostal　church　my　mother　and　her　sisters　happened　to　be　in　favor　of　during　any　given　month；　I　had　heard　plenty　of　Praise　Jesus；　The　Lord　Is　Mighty　miracle　stories。　I　didn't　believe　all　of　them；　but　there　were　plenty　of　people　I　did　believe。　One　of　these　was　a　man　named　Roy　Delfines；　who　lived　with　his　family　about　two　miles　down　the　road　from　us　when　I　was　six　or　so。　Delfines　had　chopped　his　son's　little　finger　off　with　a　hatchet；　an　accident　which　had　occurred　when　the　boy　unexpectedly　moved　his　hand　on　a　log　he'd　been　holding　on　the　backyard　chopping　block　for　his　dad。　Roy　Delfines　said　he　had　practically　worn　out　the　carpet　with　his　knees　that　fall　and　winter；　and　in　the　spring　the　boy's　finger　had　grown　back。　Even　the　nail　had　grown　back。　I　believed　Roy　Delfines　when　he　testified　at　Thursday…night　rejoicing。　There　was　a　naked；　unplicated　honesty　in　what　he　said　as　he　stood　there　talking　with　his　hands　jammed　deep　into　the　pockets　of　his　biballs　that　was　impossible　not　to　believe。　〃It　itch　him　some　when　thet　finger　started　ing；　kep　him　awake　nights；〃　Roy　Delfines　said；　〃but　he　knowed　it　was　the　Lord's　itch　and　let　it　be。〃　Praise　Jesus；　The　Lord　Is　Mighty。　
Roy　Delfines's　story　was　only　one　of　many；　I　grew　up　in　a　tradition　of　miracles　and　healings。　I　grew　up　believing　in　gris…gris；　as　well　（only；　up　in　the　hills　we　said　it　to　rhyme　with　kiss…kiss）：　stump…water　for　warts；　moss　under　your　pillow　to　ease　the　heartache　of　lost　love；　and；　of　course；　what　we　used　to　call　haints　…　but　I　did　not　believe　John　Coffey　was　a　gris…gris　man。　I　had　looked　into　his　eyes。　More　important；'　I　had　felt　his　touch。　Being　touched　by　him　was　like　being　touched　by　some　strange　and　wonderful　doctor。　
I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　
That　kept　chiming　in　my　head；　like　a　snatch　of　song　you　can't　get　rid　of；　or　words　you'd　speak　to　set　a　spell。　
I　helped　it；　didn't　I？　
Except　he　hadn't。　God　had。　John　Coffey's　use　of　〃I〃　could　be　chalked　up　to　ignorance　rather　than　pride；　but　I　knew　…　believed；　at　least　…　what　I　had　learned　about　healing　in　those　churches　of　Praise　Jesus；　The　Lord　Is　Mighty；　piney…woods　amen　corners　much　beloved　by　my　twenty…two…year…old　mother　and　my　aunts：　that　healing　is　never　about　the　healed　or　the　healer；　but　about　God's　will。　For　one　to　rejoice　at　the　sick　made　well　is　normal；　quite　the　expected　thing；　but　the　person　healed　has　an　obligation　to　then　ask　why　…　to　meditate　on　God's　will；　and　the　extraordinary　lengths　to　which　God　has　gone　to　realize　His　will。　
What　did　God　want　of　me；　in　this　case？　What　did　He　want　badly　enough　to　put　healing　power　in　the　hands　of　a　child…murderer？　To　be　on　the　block；　instead　of　at　home；　sick　as　a　dog；　shivering　in　bed　with　the　stink　of　sulfa　running　out　of　my　pores？　Perhaps；　I　was　maybe　supposed　to　be　here　instead　of　home　in　case　Wild　Bill　Wharton　decided　to　kick　up　more　dickens；　or　to　make　sure　Percy　Wetmore　didn't　get　up　to　some　foolish　and　potentially　destructive　piece　of　fuckery　All　right；　then。　So　be　it。　I　would　keep　my　eyes　open　…　and　my　mouth　shut；　especially　about　miracle　cures。　
No　one　y　looking　and　sounding　better；　I'd　been　telling　the　world　I　was　getting　better；　and　until　that　very　day　I'd　honestly　believed　it。　I　had　even　told　Warden　Moores　that　I　was　on　the　mend。　Delacroix　had　seen　something；　but　I　thought　he　would　keep　his　mouth　shut；　too　（probably　afraid　John　Coffey　would　throw　a　spell　on　him　if　he　didn't）。　As　for　Coffey　himself；　he'd　probably　already　forgotten　it。　He　was　nothing　but　a　conduit；　after　all；　and　there　isn't　a　culvert　in　the　world　that　remembers　the　water　that　flowed　through　it　once　the　rain　has　stopped。　So　I　resolved　to　keep　my　mouth　pletely　shut　on　the　subject；　with　never　an　idea　of　how　soon　I'd　be　telling　the　story；　or　who　I'd　be　telling　it　to。　
But　I　was　curious　about　my　big　boy；　and　there's　no　sense　not　admitting　it。　After　what　had　happened　to　me　there　in　his　cell；　I　was　more　curious　than　ever。　
4。　
Before　leaving　that　night；　I　arranged　with　Brutal　to　cover　for　me　the　next　day；　should　I　e　in　a　little　late；　and　when　I　got　up　the　following　morning；　I　set　out　for　Tefton；　down　in　Trapingus　County。　
〃I'm　not　sure　I　like　you　worrying　so　much　about　this　fellow　Coffey；〃　my　wife　said；　handing　me　the　lunch　she'd　put　up　for　me…Janice　never　believed　in　roadside　hamburger　stands；　she　used　to　say　there　was　a　bellyache　waiting　in　every　one。　〃It's　not　like　you；　Paul。〃　
〃I'm　not　worr