Зеленая миля

Chapter 8

           Onewasgreenandonewasred.Theyhadn’tbeenpaintedbutcolored,withwaxCrayolacrayons.

           "Oh,boy,"Isaidinalow,shakyvoice."Oh,hey.It’spiecesofthatspool,isn’tit?Butwhy?Whyupthere?"

           "WhenIwasakidIwasn’tbiglikeIamnow,"Brutalsaid."Igotmostofmygrowthbetweenfifteenandseventeen.UntilthenIwasashrimp.AndwhenIwentofftoschoolthefirsttime,Ifeltassmallas...why,assmallasamouse,Iguessyou’dsay.Iwasscaredtodeath.SoyouknowwhatIdid?"

           Ishookmyhead.Outside,thewindgustedagain.Intheanglesformedbythebeams,cobwebsshookinfeatherydrafts,likerottedlace.NeverhadIbeeninaplacethatfeltsonakedlyhaunted,anditwasrightthen,aswestoodtherelookingdownatthesplinteredremainsofthespoolwhichhadcausedsomuchtrouble,thatmyheadbegantoknowwhatmyhearthadunderstoodeversinceJohnCoffeyhadwalkedtheGreenMile:Icouldn’tdothisjobmuchlonger.Depression,ornoDepression,Icouldn’twatchmanymoremenwalkthroughmyofficetotheirdeaths.Evenonemoremightbetoomany.

           "Iaskedmymotherforoneofherhankies,"Brutalsaid."SowhenIfeltweepyandsmall,Icouldsneakitoutandsmellherperfumeandnotfeelsobad."

           "Youthinkwhat?thatmousechewedoffsomeofthatcoloredspooltorememberDelacroixby?Thatamouse"

           Helookedup

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