绿里奇迹(英文版)-第48部分

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ir　way　into　Brutus　Howell's　throat。　〃It's　us！　It's　Paul　and　me　and　。　。　。　it's　us！〃　
He　took　the　first　step　up；　so　that　the　light　over　the　stoop　could　fall　fully　on　his　face；　I　joined　him。　Hal　Moores　looked　back　and　forth　between　us；　his　angry　determination　giving　way　to　bewilderment。　〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　he　asked。　〃Not　only　is　it　the　shank　of　the　morning；　you　boys　have　the　duty。　I　know　you　do；　I've　got　the　roster　pinned　up　in　my　workshop。　So　what　in　the　name　of　。。。　oh；　Jesus。　It's　not　a　lockdown；　is　it？　Or　a　riot？〃　He　looked　between　us；　and　his　gaze　sharpened。　〃Who　else　is　down　by　that　truck？〃　
Let　me　do　the　talking。　So　I　had　instructed　Brutal；　but　now　the　time　to　talk　was　here　and　I　couldn't　even　open　my　mouth。　On　my　way　into　work　that　afternoon　I　had　carefully　planned　out　what　I　was　going　to　say　when　we　got　here；　and　had　thought　that　it　didn't　sound　too　crazy。　Not　normal　…　nothing　about　it　was　normal　…　but　maybe　close　enough　to　normal　to　get　us　through　the　door　and　give　us　a　chance。　Give　John　a　chance。　But　now　all　my　carefully　rehearsed　words　were　lost　in　a　roaring　confusion。　Thoughts　and　images　…　Del　burning；　the　mouse　dying；　Toot　jerking　in　Old　Sparky's　lap　and　screaming　that　he　was　a　done　tom　turkey　…　whirled　inside　my　head　like　sand　caught　in　a　dust…devil。　I　believe　there　is　good　in　the　world；　all　of　it　flowing　in　one　way　or　another　from　a　loving　God。　But　I　believe　there's　another　force　as　well；　one　every　bit　as　real　as　the　God　I　have　prayed　to　my　whole　life；　and　that　it　works　consciously　to　bring　all　our　decent　impulses　to　ruin。　Not　Satan；　I　don't　mean　Satan　（although　I　believe　he　is　real；　too）；　but　a　kind　of　demon　of　discord；　a　prankish　and　stupid　thing　that　laughs　with　glee　when　an　old　man　sets　himself　on　fire　trying　to　light　his　pipe　or　when　a　much…loved　baby　puts　its　first　Christmas　toy　in　its　mouth　and　chokes　to　death　on　it。　I've　had　a　lot　of　years　to　think　on　this；　all　the　way　from　Cold　Mountain　to　Georgia　Pines；　and　I　believe　that　force　was　actively　at　work　among　us　on　that　morning；　swirling　everywhere　like　a　fog；　trying　to　keep　John　Coffey　away　from　Melinda　Moores。　
〃Warden　。。。　Hal　。。。　I　。。。〃　Nothing　I　tried　made　any　sense。　
He　raised　the　pistol　again；　pointing　it　between　Brutal　and　me；　not　listening。　His　bloodshot　eyes　had　gotten　very　wide。　And　here　came　Harry　Terwilliger；　being　more　or　less　pulled　along　by　our　big　boy；　who　was　wearing　his　wide　and　daffily　charming　smile。　
〃Coffey；〃　Moores　breathed。　〃John　Coffey。〃　He　pulled　in　breath　and　yelled　in　a　voice　that　was　reedy　but　strong：　〃Halt！　Halt　right　there；　or　I　shoot！〃　
From　somewhere　behind　him；　a　weak　and　wavery　female　voice　called：　〃Hal？　What　are　you　doing　out　there？　Who　are　you　talking　to；　you　fucking　cocksucker？〃　
He　turned　in　that　direction　for　just　a　moment；　his　face　confused　and　despairing。　Just　a　moment；　as　I　say；　but　it　should　have　been　long　enough　for　me　to　snatch　the　long…barrelled　gun　out　of　his　hand。　Except　I　couldn't　lift　my　own　hands。　They　might　have　had　weights　tied　to　them。　My　head　seemed　full　of　static；　like　a　radio　trying　to　broadcast　during　an　electrical　storm。　The　only　emotions　I　remember　feeling　were　fright　and　a　kind　of　dull　embarrassment　for　Hal。　
Harry　and　John　Coffey　reached　the　foot　of　the　steps。　Moores　turned　away　from　the　sound　of　his　wife's　voice　and　raised　the　gun　again。　He　said　later　that　yes；　he　fully　intended　to　shoot　Coffey；　he　suspected　we　were　all　prisoners；　and　that　the　brains　behind　whatever　was　happening　were　back　by　the　truck；　lurking　in　the　shadows。　He　didn't　understand　why　we　should　have　been　brought　to　his　house；　but　revenge　seemed　the　most　likely　possibility。　
Before　he　could　shoot；　Harry　Terwilliger　stepped　up　ahead　of　Coffey　and　then　moved　in　front　of　him；　shielding　most　of　his　body。　Coffey　didn't　make　him　do　it；　Harry　did　it　on　his　own。　
〃No；　Warden　Moores！〃　he　said。　〃It's　all　right！　No　one's　armed；　no　one's　going　to　get　hurt；　we're　here　to　help！〃　
〃Help？〃　Moores's　tangled；　tufted　eyebrows　drew　together。　His　eyes　blazed。　I　couldn't　take　my　eyes　off　the　cocked　hammer　of　the　Buntline。　〃Help　what？　Help　who？〃　
As　if　in　answer；　the　old　woman's　voice　rose　again；　querulous　and　certain　and　utterly　lost：　〃e　in　here　and　poke　my　mudhole；　you　son　of　a　bitch！　Bring　your　asshole　friends；　too！　Let　them　all　have　a　turn！〃　
I　looked　at　Brutal；　shaken　to　my　soul。　I'd　understood　that　she　swore　…　that　the　tumor　was　somehow　making　her　swear　…　but　this　was　more　than　swearing。　A　lot　more。　
〃What　are　you　doing　here？〃　Moores　asked　us　again。　A　lot　of　the　determination　had　gone　out　of　his　voice　…　his　wife's　wavering　cries　had　done　that。　〃I　don't　understand。　Is　it　a　prison　break；　or。。。〃　
John　set　Harry　aside　…　just　picked　him　up　and　moved　him　over　…　and　then　climbed　to　the　stoop。　He　stood　between　Brutal　and　me；　so　big　he　almost　pushed　us　off　either　side　and　into　Melly's　holly　bushes。　Moores's　eyes　turned　up　to　follow　him；　the　way　a　person's　eyes　do　when　he's　trying　to　see　the　top　of　a　tall　tree。　And　suddenly　the　world　fell　back　into　place　for　me。　That　spirit　of　discord；　which　had　jumbled　my　thoughts　like　powerful　fingers　sifting　through　sand　or　grains　of　rice；　was　gone。　I　thought　I　also　understood　why　Harry　had　been　able　to　act　when　Brutal　and　I　could　only　stand；　hopeless　and　indecisive；　in　front　of　our　boss。　Harry　had　been　with　John。。。　and　whatever　spirit　it　is　that　opposes　that　other；　demonic　one；　it　was　in　John　Coffey　that　night。　And；　when　John　stepped　forward　to　face　Warden　Moores；　it　was　that　other　spirit　…　something　white；　that's　how　I　think　of　it；　as　something　white　…　which　took　control　of　the　situation。　The　other　thing　didn't　leave；　but　I　could　see　it　drawing　back　like　a　shadow　in　a　sudden　strong　light。　
〃I　want　to　help；〃　John　Coffey　said。　Moores　looked　up　at　him；　eyes　fascinated；　mouth　hanging　open。　When　Coffey　plucked　the　Buntline　Special　from　his　hand　and　passed　it　to　me；　I　don't　think　Hal　even　knew　it　was　gone。　I　carefully　lowered　the　hammer。　Later；　when　I　checked　the　cylinder；　I　would　find　it　had　been　empty　all　along。　Sometimes　I　wonder　if　Hal　knew　that。　Meanwhile；　John　was　still　murmuring。　〃I　came　to　help　her。　Just　to　help。　That's　all　I　want。〃　
〃Hal！〃　she　cried　from　the　back　bedroom。　Her　voice　sounded　a　little　stronger　now；　but　it　also　sounded　afraid；　as　if　the　thing　which　had　so　confused　and　unmanned　us　had　now　retreated　to　her。　〃Make　them　go　away；　whoever　they　are！　We　don't　need　no　sales　men　in　the　middle　of　the　night！　No　Electrolux！　No　Hoover！　No　French　knickers　with　e　in　the　crotch！　Get　them　out！　Tell　them　to　take　a　flying　fuck　at　a　rolling　d　。。。　d　。。。〃　Something　broke　…　it　could　have　been　a　waterglass　…　and　then　she　began　to　sob。　
〃Just　to　help；〃　John　Coffey　said　in　a　voice　so　low　it　was　hardly　more　than　a　whisper。　He　ignored　the　woman's　sobbing　and　profanity　equally。　〃Just　to　help；　boss；　that's　all。〃　
〃You　can't；〃　Moores　said。　〃No　one　can。〃　It　was　a　tone　I'd　heard　before；　and　after　a　moment　I　realized　it　was　how　I'd　sounded　myself　when　I'd　gone　into　Coffey's　cell　the　night　he　cured　my　urinary　infection。　Hypnotized。　You　mind　your　business　and　I'll　mind　mine　was　what　I'd　told　Delacroix　。。。　except　it　had　been　Coffey　who'd　been　minding　my　business；　just　as　he　was　minding　Hal　Moores's　now。　
〃We　think　he　can；〃　Brutal　said。　〃And　we　didn't　risk　our　jobs　…　plus　a　stretch　in　the　can　ourselves；　maybe　…　just　to　get　here　and　turn　around　and　go　back　without　giving　it　the　old　college　try。〃　
Only　I　had　been　ready　to　do　just　that　three　minutes　before。　Brutal；　too。　
John　Coffey　took　the　play　out　of　our　hands。　He　pushed　into　the　entry　and　past　Moores；　who　raised　a　single　strengthless　hand　to　stop　him　（it　trailed　across　Coffey's　hip　and　fell　off；　I'm　sure　the　big　man　never　even　felt　it）；　and　then　shuffled　down　the　hall　toward　the　living　room；　the　kitchen　beyond　it；　and　the　back　bedroom　beyond　that　where　that　shrill　unrecognizable　voice　raised　itself　again：　〃You　stay　out　of　here！　
〃Whoever　you　are；　just　stay　out！　I'm　not　dressed；　my　tits　are　out　and　my　bitchbox　is　taking　the　breeze！〃　
John　paid　no　attention；　just　went　stolidly　along；　head　bent　so　he　wouldn't　smash　any　of　the　light　fixtures；　his　round　brown　skull　gleaming；　his　hands　swinging　at　his　sides。　After　a　moment　we　followed　him；　me　first；　Brutal　and　Hal　side　by　side；　and　Harry　bringing　up　the　rear。　I　understood　one　thing　perfectly　well：　it　was　all　out　of　our　hands　now；　and　in　John's。　
8。　
The　woman　in　the　back　bedroom；　propped　up　against　the　headboard　and　staring　wall…eyed　at　the　giant　who　had　e　into　her　muddled　sight；　didn't　look　at　all　like　the　Melly　Moores　I　had　known　for　twenty　years；　she　didn't　even　look　like　the　Melly　Moores　Janice　and　I　had　visited　shortly　before　Delacroix's　execution。　The　woman　propped　up　in　that　bed　looked　like　a　sick　child　got　up　as　a　Halloween　witch。　Her　livid　skin　was　a　hanging　dough　of　wrinkles。　It　was　puckered　up　around　the　eye　on　the　right　side；　as　if　she　were　trying　to　wink。　That　same　side　of　her　mouth　turned　down；　one　old　yellow　eyetooth　hung　out　over　her　liverish　lower　lip。　Her　hair　was　a　wild　thin　fog　around　her　skull。　The　room　stank　of　the　stuff　our　bodies　dispose　of　with　such　decorum　when　things　are　running　right。　The　chamberpot　by　her　bed　was　half　full　of　some　vile　yellowish　goo。　We　had　e　too　late　anyway；　I　thought；　horrified。　It　had　only　been　a　matter　of　days　since　she　had　been　recognizable　…　sick　but　still　herself　Since　then；　the　thing　in　her　head　must　have　moved　with　horrifying　speed　to　consolidate　its　position。　I　didn't　think　even　John　Coffey　could　help　her　now。　
Her　expression　when　Coffey　entered　was　one　of　fear　and　horror　…　as　if　something　inside　her　had　recognized　a　doctor　that　might　be　able　to　get　at　it　and　pry　it　loose；　after　all　。。。　to　sprinkle　salt　on　it　the　way　you　do　on　a　leech　to　make　it　let　go　its　grip。　Hear　me　carefully：　I'm　not　saying　that　Melly　Moores　was　possessed；　and　I'm　aware　that；　wrought　up　as　I　was；　all　my　perceptions　of　that　night　must　be　suspect。　But　I　have　never　pletely　discounted　the　possibility　of　demonic　possession；　either。　There　was　something　in　her　eyes；　I　tell　you；　something　that　looked　like　fear。　On　that　I　think　you　can　trust　me；　it's　an　emotion　I've　seen　too　much　of　to　mistake。　
Whatever　it　was；　it　was　gone　in　a　hurry；　replaced　by　a　look　of　lively；　irrational　interest。　That　unspeakable　mouth　trembled　in　what　might　have　been　a　smile。　
〃Oh；　so　big！〃　she　cried。　She　sounded　like　a　little　girl　just　ing　down　with　a　bad　throat　infection。　She　took　her　hands　…as　spongy…white　as　her　face　…　out　from　under　the　counterpane　and　patted　them　together。　〃Pull　down　your　pants！　I've　heard　about　nigger…cocks　my　whole　life　but　never　seen　one！〃　
Behind　me；　Moores　made　a　soft　groaning　sound；　full　of　despair。　
John　Coffey　paid　no　attention　to　any　of　it。　After　standing　still　for　a　moment；　as　if　to　observe　her　from　a　little　distance；　he　crossed　to　the　bed；　which　was　illuminated　by　a　single　bedside　lamp。　It　threw　a　bright　circle　of　light　on　the　white　counterpane　drawn　up　to　the　lace　at　the　throat　of　her　nightgown。　Beyond　the　bed；　in　shadow；　I　saw　the　chaise　longue　which　belonged　in　the　parlor。　An　afghan　Melly　had　knitted　with　her　own　hands　in　happier　days　lay　half　on　the　chaise　and　half　on　the　floor。　It　was　here　Hal　had　been　sleeping　…　dozing；　at　least　…　when　we　pulled　in。　
As　John　approach