绿里奇迹(英文版)-第44部分

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ts　whiskers；　and　a　dull　glaze　was　creeping　over　its　previously　brilliant　oildrop　eyes。　Brutal　picked　up　the　colored　spool；　looked　at　it；　then　looked　at　me。　He　looked　as　dumbfounded　as　I　felt。　Behind　us；　Delacroix　went　on　screaming　out　his　grief　and　horror。　It　wasn't　just　the　mouse；　of　course；　Percy　had　smashed　a　hole　in　Delacroix's　defenses　and　all　his　terror　was　pouring　out。　But　Mr。　Jingles　was　the　focusing　point　for　those　pent…up　feelings；　and　it　was　terrible　to　listen　to　him。　
〃Oh　no；〃　he　cried　over　and　over　again；　amid　the　screams　and　the　garbled　pleas　and　prayers　in　Cajun　French。　〃Oh　no；　oh　no；　poor　Mr。　Jingles；　poor　old　Mr。　Jingles；　oh　no。〃　
〃Give　im　to　me。〃　
I　looked　up；　puzzled　by　that　deep　voice；　at　first　not　sure　who　it　belonged　to。　I　saw　John　Coffey。　Like　Delacroix；　he　had　put　his　arms　through　the　bars　of　his　cell　door；　but　unlike　Del；　he　wasn't　waving　them　around。　He　simply　held　them　out　as　far　as　he　could；　the　hands　at　the　ends　of　them　open。　It　was　a　purposeful　pose；　an　almost　urgent　pose。　And　his　voice；　had　the　same　quality；　which　was　why；　I　suppose；　I　didn't　recognize　it　as　belonging　to　Coffey　at　first。　He　seemed　a　different　man　from　the　lost；　weepy　soul　that　had　occupied　this　cell　for　the　last　few　weeks。　
〃Give　im　to　me；　Mr。　Edgebe！　While　there's　still　time！〃　
Then　I　remembered　what　he'd　done　for　me；　and　understood。　I　supposed　it　couldn't　hurt；　but　I　didn't　think　it　would　do　much　good；　either。　When　I　picked　the　mouse　up；　I　winced　at　the　feel…there　were　so　many　splintered　bones　poking　at　various　spots　on　Mr。　Jingles's　hide　that　it　was　like　picking　up　a　fur…covered　pincushion。　This　was　no　urinary　infection。　Still　…　
〃What　are　you　doing？〃　Brutal　asked　as　I　put　Mr。　Jingles　in　Coffey's　huge　right　hand。　〃What　the　hell？〃　
Coffey　pulled　the　mouse　back　through　the　bars。　He　lay　limp　on　Coffey's　palm；　tail　hanging　over　the　arc　between　Coffey's　thumb　and　first　finger；　the　tip　twitching　weakly　in　midair。　Then　Coffey　covered　his　right　hand　with　his　left；　creating　a　kind　of　cup　in　which　the　mouse　lay。　We　could　no　longer　see　Mr。　Jingles　himself；　only　the　tail；　hanging　down　and　twitching　at　the　tip　like　a　dying　pendulum。　Coffey　lifted　his　hands　toward　his　face；　spreading　the　fingers　of　the　right　as　he　did　so；　creating　spaces　like　those　between　prison　bars。　The　tail　of　the　mouse　now　hung　from　the　side　of　his　hands　that　was　facing　us。　
Brutal　stepped　next　to　me；　still　holding　the　colored　spool　between　his　fingers。　〃What's　he　think　he's　doing？〃　
〃Shh；〃　I　said。　
Delacroix　had　stopped　screaming。　〃Please；　John；〃　he　whispered。　〃Oh　Johnny；　help　him；　please　help　him；　oh　s'il　vous　plait。〃　
Dean　and　Harry　joined　us；　Harry　with　our　old　deck　of　Airplane　cards　still　in　one　hand。　〃What's　going　on？〃　Dean　asked；　but　I　only　shook　my　head。　I　was　feeling　hypnotized　again；　damned　if　I　wasn't。　
Coffey　put　his　mouth　between　two　of　his　fingers　and　inhaled　sharply。　For　a　moment　everything　hung　suspended。　Then　he　raised　his　head　away　from　his　hands　and　I　saw　the　face　of　a　man　who　looked　desperately　sick；　or　in　terrible　pain。　His　eyes　were　sharp　and　blazing；　his　upper　teeth　bit　at　his　full　lower　lip；　his　dark　face　had　faded　to　an　unpleasant　color　that　looked　like　ash　stirred　into　mud。　He　made　a　choked　sound　way　back　in　his　throat。　
〃Dear　Jesus　Lord　and　Savior；〃　Brutal　whispered。　His　eyes　appeared　to　be　in　danger　of　dropping　right　out　of　his　face。　
〃What？〃　Harry　almost　barked。　〃What？〃　
〃The　tail！　Don't　you　see　it？　The　tail！〃　
Mr。　Jingles's　tail　was　no　longer　a　dying　pendulum；　it　was　snapping　briskly　from　side　to　side；　like　the　tail　of　a　cat　in　a　bird…catching　mood。　And　then；　from　inside　Coffey's　cupped　hands；　came　a　perfectly　familiar　squeak。　
Coffey　made　that　choking；　gagging　sound　again；　then　turned　his　head　to　one　side　like　a　man　that　has　coughed　up　a　wad　of　phlegm　and　means　to　spit　it　out。　Instead；　he　exhaled　a　cloud　of　black　insects　…　I　think　they　were　insects；　and　the　others　said　the　same；　but　to　this　day　I　am　not　sure　…　from　his　mouth　and　nose。　They　boiled　around　him　in　a　dark　cloud　that　temporarily　obscured　his　features。　
〃Christ；　what're　those？〃　Dean　asked　in　a　shrill；　scared　voice。　
〃It's　all　right；〃　I　heard　myself　say。　〃Don't　panic；　it's　all　right；　in　a　few　seconds　they'll　be　gone。〃　
As　when　Coffey　had　cured　my　urinary　infection　for　me；　the　〃bugs〃　turned　white　and　then　disappeared。　
〃Holy　shit；〃　Harry　whispered。　
〃Paul？〃　Brutal　asked　in　an　unsteady　voice。　〃Paul？〃　
Coffey　looked　okay　again　…　like　a　fellow　who　has　successfully　coughed　up　a　wad　of　meat　that　has　been　choking　him。　He　bent　down；　put　his　cupped　hands　on　the　floor；　peeked　through　his　fingers；　then　opened　them。　Mr。　Jingles；　absolutely　all　right…not　a　single　twist　to　his　backbone；　not　a　single　lump　poking　at　his　hide　…　ran　out。　He　paused　for　a　moment　at　the　door　of　Coffey's　cell；　then　ran　across　the　Green　Mile　to　Delacroix's　cell。　As　he　went；　I　noticed　there　were　still　beads　of　blood　in　his　whiskers。　
Delacroix　gathered　him　up；　laughing　and　crying　at　the　same　time；　covering　the　mouse　with　shameless；　smacking　kisses。　Dean　and　Harry　and　Brutal　watched　with　silent　wonder。　Then　Brutal　stepped　forward　and　handed　the　colored　spool　through　the　bars。　Delacroix　didn't　see　it　at　first；　he　was　too　taken　up　with　Mr。　Jingles。　He　was　like　a　father　whose　son　has　been　saved　from　drowning。　Brutal　tapped　him　on　the　shoulder　with　the　spool。　Delacroix　looked；　saw　it；　took　it；　and　went　back　to　Mr。　Jingles　again；　stroking　his　fur　and　devouring　him　with　his　eyes；　needing　to　constantly　refresh　his　perception　that　yes；　the　mouse　was　all　right；　the　mouse　was　whole　and　fine　and　all　right。　
〃Toss　it；〃　Brutal　said。　〃I　want　to　see　how　he　runs。〃　
〃He　all　right；　Boss　Howell；　he　all　right；　praise　God……！〃　
〃Toss　it；〃　Brutal　repeated。　〃Mind　me；　Del。〃　
Delacroix　bent；　clearly　reluctant；　clearly　not　wanting　to　let　Mr。　Jingles　out　of　his　hands　again；　at　least　not　yet。　Then；　very　gently；　he　tossed　the　spool。　It　rolled　across　the　cell；　past　the　Corona　cigar　box；　and　to　the　wall。　Mr。　Jingles　was　after　it；　but　not　quite　with　the　speed　he　had　shown　previously。　He　appeared　to　be　limping　just　a　bit　on　his　left　rear　leg；　and　that　was　what　struck　me　the　hardest　…　it　was；　I　suppose；　what　made　it　real。　That　little　limp。　
He　got　to　the　spool；　though；　got　to　it　just　fine　and　nosed　it　back　to　Delacroix　with　all　his　old　enthusiasm。　I　turned　to　John　Coffey；　who　was　standing　at　his　cell　door　and　smiling。　It　was　a　tired　smile；　and　not　what　I'd　call　really　happy；　but　the　sharp　urgency　I'd　seen　in　his　face　as　he　begged　for　the　mouse　to　be　given　to　him　was　gone；　and　so　was　the　look　of　pain　and　fear；　as　if　he　were　choking。　It　was　our　john　Coffey　again；　with　his　not…quite…there　face　and　strange；　far…looking　eyes。　
〃You　helped　it；〃　I　said。　〃Didn't　you；　big　boy？〃　
〃That's　right；〃　Coffey　said。　The　smile　widened　a　little；　and　for　a　moment　or　two　it　was　happy。　〃I　helped　it。　I　helped　Del's　mouse。　I　helped　。。。〃　He　trailed　off；　unable　to　remember　the　name。　
〃Mr。　Jingles；〃　Dean　said。　He　was　looking　at　John　with　careful；　wondering　eyes；　as　if　he　expected　Coffey　to　burst　into　flames　or　maybe　begin　to　float　in　his　cell。　
〃That's　right；〃　Coffey　said。　〃Mr。　Jingles。　He's　a　circus　mouse。　Goan　live　in　ivy…glass。〃　
〃You　bet　your　bobcat；〃　Harry　said；　joining　us　in　looking　at　John　Coffey。　Behind　us；　Delacroix　lay　down　on　his　bunk　with　Mr。　Jingles　on　his　chest。　Del　was　crooning　to　him；　singing　him　some　French　song　that　sounded　like　a　lullaby。　
Coffey　looked　up　the　Green　Mile　toward　the　duty　desk　and　the　door　which　led　into　my　office　and　the　storage　room　beyond。　〃Boss　Percy's　bad；〃　he　said。　〃Boss　Percy's　mean。　He　stepped　on　Del's　mouse。　He　stepped　on　Mr。　Jingles。〃　
And　then；　before　we　could　say　anything　else　to　him　…　if　we　could　have　thought　of　anything　to　say　…　John　Coffey　went　back　to　his　bunk；　lay　down；　and　rolled　on　his　side　to　face　the　wall。　
3。　
Percy　was　standing　with　his　back　to　us　when　Brutal　and　I　came　into　the　storage　room　about　twenty　minutes　later。　He　had　found　a　can　of　paste　furniture　polish　on　a　shelf　above　the　hamper　where　we　put　our　dirty　uniforms　（and；　sometimes；　our　civilian　clothes；　the　prison　laundry　didn't　care　what　it　washed）；　and　was　polishing　the　oak　arms　and　legs　of　the　electr