Chapter 7

           "Comeon,"BrutaltoldDelacroixthefollowingevening."We’regoingforalittlewalk.YouandmeandMr.Jingles."

           Delacroixlookedathimdistrustfully,thenreacheddownintothecigarboxforthemouse.HecuppeditmthepalmofonehandandlookedatBrutalwithnarrowedeyes.

           "Whatchootalkingabout?"heasked.

           "It’sabignightforyouandMr.Jingles,"Deansaid,asheandHarryjoinedBrutal.ThechainofbruisesaroundDean’sneckhadgoneanunpleasantyellowcolor,butatleasthecouldtalkagainwithoutsoundinglikeadogbarkingatacat.HelookedatBrutal."Thinkweoughttoputtheshacklesonhim,Brute?"

           Brutalappearedtoconsider."Naw,"hesaidatlast."He’sgonnabegood,ain’tyou,Del?Youandthemouse,both.Afterall,you’regonnabeshowinoffforsomehighmuck-a-muckstonight."

           PercyandIwerestandingupbythedutydesk,watchingthis,Percywithhisarmsfoldedandasmall,contemptuoussmileonhislips.Afterabit,hetookouthishorncombandwenttoworkonhishairwithit.JohnCoffeywaswatching,too,standingsilentlyatthebarsofhiscell.Whartonwaslyingonhisbunk,staringupattheceilingandignoringthewholeshow.Hewasstill"beinggood,"althoughwhathecalledgoodwaswhatthedocsatBriarRidgecalledcatatonic.Andtherewasoneotherpersonthere,aswell.Hewastuckedoutofsightinmyoffice,buthisskinnyshadowfelloutthedoorandontotheGreenMile.