Зеленая миля

Chapter 7

           NotSatan,Idon’tmeanSatan(althoughIbelieveheisreal,too),butakindofdemonofdiscord,aprankishandstupidthingthatlaughswithgleewhenanoldmansetshimselfonfiretryingtolighthispipeorwhenamuch-lovedbabyputsitsfirstChristmastoyinitsmouthandchokestodeathonit.I’vehadalotofyearstothinkonthis,allthewayfromColdMountaintoGeorgiaPines,andIbelievethatforcewasactivelyatworkamongusonthatmorning,swirlingeverywherelikeafog,tryingtokeepJohnCoffeyawayfromMelindaMoores.

           "Warden...Hal...I..."NothingItriedmadeanysense.

           Heraisedthepistolagain,pointingitbetweenBrutalandme,notlistening.Hisbloodshoteyeshadgottenverywide.AndherecameHarryTerwilliger,beingmoreorlesspulledalongbyourbigboy,whowaswearinghiswideanddaffilycharmingsmile.

           "Coffey,"Mooresbreathed."JohnCoffey."Hepulledinbreathandyelledinavoicethatwasreedybutstrong:"Halt!Haltrightthere,orIshoot!"

           Fromsomewherebehindhim,aweakandwaveryfemalevoicecalled:"Hal?Whatareyoudoingoutthere?Whoareyoutalkingto,youfuckingcocksucker?"

           Heturnedinthatdirectionforjustamoment,hisfaceconfusedanddespairing.Justamoment,asIsay,butitshouldhavebeenlongenoughformetosnatchthelong-barrelledgunoutofhishand.ExceptIcouldn’tliftmyownhands.Theymighthavehadweightstiedtothem.

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