第23部分(第4/8頁)

　like　a　pillow　and　his　face　to　the　wall。　His　legs　dangled　off　the　end　of　the　bunk　from　the　shins　on　down；　but　that　never　seemed　to　bother　him。　The　back　of　his　shirt　had　pulled　up；　and　I　could　see　the　scars　that　crisscrossed　his　skin。

I　left　the　cell；　turned　the　locks；　then　faced　Delacroix；　who　was　standing　across　the　way　with　his　hands　wrapped　around　the　bars　of　his　cell；　looking　at　me　anxiously。　Perhaps　even　fearfully。　Mr。　Jingles　perched　on　his　shoulder　with　his　fine　ents。　〃What　dat　darkie…man　do　to　you？〃　Delacroix　asked。　〃Waddit　gris…gris？　He　th'ow　some　gris…gris　on　you？〃　Spoken　in　that　Cajun　accent　of　his；　gris…gris　rhymed　with　pee…pee。

〃I　don't　know　what　you're　talking　about；　Del。〃

〃Devil　you　don't！　Lookit　you！　All　change！　Even　walk　different；　boss！〃

I　probably　was　walking　different；　at　that。　There　was　a　beautiful　feeling　of　calm　in　my　groin；　a　sense　of　peace　so　remarkable　it　was　almost　eestasy　…　anyone　who's　suffered　bad　pain　and　then　recovered　will　know　what　I'm　talking　about。

〃Everything's　all　right；　Del；〃　I　insisted。　〃John　Coffey　had　a　nightmare；　that's　all。〃

〃He　a　gris…gris　man！〃　Delacroix　said　vehemently。　There　was　a　nestle　of　sweat…beads　on　his　upper　lip。　He　hadn't　seen　much；　just　enough　to　scare　him　half　to　death。　〃He　a　hoodoo　man！〃

〃What　makes　you　say　that？〃

Delacroix　reached　up　and　took　the　mouse　in　one　hand。　He　cupped　it　in　his　palm　and　lifted　it　to　his　face。　From　his　pocket；　Delacroix　took　out　a　pink　fra