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the chains that held him as easily as you might snap the ribbons on a Christmas present； but when you looked in his face； you knew he wasn't going to do anything like that。 It wasn't dull…although that was what Percy thought； it wasn't long before Percy was calling him the ijit … but lost。 He kept looking around as if to make out where he was。 Maybe even who he was。 My first thought was that he looked like a black Samson 。。。 only after Delilah had shaved him smooth as her faithless little hand and taken all the fun out of him。
〃Dead man walking！〃 Percy trumpeted； hauling on that bear of a man's wristcuff； as if he really believed he could move him if Coffey decided he didn't want to move anymore on his own。 Harry didn't say anything； but he looked embarrassed。 〃Dead man………！'
'That'll be enough of that；〃 I said。 I was in what was going to be Coffey's cell； sitting on his bunk。 I'd known he was ing； of course； was there to wele him and take charge of him； but had no idea of the man's pure size until I saw him。 Percy gave me a look that said we all knew I was an asshole （except for the big dummy； of course； who only knew how to rape and murder little girls）； but he didn't say anything。
The three of them stopped outside the cell door； which was standing open on its track。 I nodded to Harry； who said： 〃Are you sure you want to be in there with him； boss？〃 I didn't often hear Harry Terwilliger sound nervous … he'd been right there by my side during the riots of six or seven years before and had never wavered； even when the rumors that some of them had guns began to circulate … but he sounded nervous then。
〃Am I going to have any trouble with you； big boy？〃 I asked； sitting there on the bunk and trying not to look or sound as miserable as I felt…that urinary infection I mentioned earlier wasn't as bad as it eventually got； but it was no day at the beach； let me tell you。
Coffey shook his head slowly … once to the left； once to the right； then back to dead center。 Once his eyes found me； they never left me。
Harry had a clipboard with Coffey's forms on it in one hand。 〃Give it to him；〃 I said to Harry 〃Put it in his hand。〃
Harry did。 The big mutt took it like a sleepwalker。
〃Now bring it to me； big boy；〃 I said； and Coffey did； his chains jingling and rattling。 He had to duck his head just to enter the cell。
I looked up and down mostly to register his height as a fact and not an optical illusion。 It was real： six feet； eight inches。 His weight was given as two…eighty； but I think that was only an estimate； he had to have been three hundred and twenty； maybe as much as three hundred and fifty pounds。 Under the space for scars and identifying marks； one word had been blocked out in the laborious printing of Magnusson； the old trusty in Registration： Numerous。
I looked up。 Coffey had shuffled a bit to one side and I could see Harry standing across the corridor in front of Delacroix's cell … he was our only other prisoner in E Block when Coffey came in。 Del was a slight； balding man with the worried face of an accountant who knows his embezzlement will soon be discovered。 His tame mouse was sitting on his shoulder。
Percy Wetmore was leaning in the doorway of the cell which had just bee John Coffey's。 He had taken his hickory baton out of the custom…made holster he carried it in； and was tapping it against one palm the way a man does when he has a toy he wants to use。 And all at once I couldn't stand to have him there。 Maybe it was the unseasonable heat； maybe it was the urinary infection heating up my groin and making the itch of my flannel underwear all but unbearable； maybe it was knowing that the state had sent me a black man next door to an idiot to execute； and Percy clearly wanted to hand…tool him a little first。 Probably it was all those things。 Whatever it was； I stopped caring about his political connections for a little while。
〃Percy。〃 I said。 〃They're moving house over in the infirmary。〃
〃Bill Dodge is in charge of that detail…〃
〃I know he is；〃 I said。 〃Go and help him。〃
'That isn't my job；〃 Percy said。 〃This big lugoon is my job。〃 〃Lugoon〃 was Percy's joke name for the big ones … a bination of lug and goon。 He resented the big ones。 He wasn't skinny； like Harry Terwilliger； but he was short。 A banty…rooster sort of guy； the kind that likes to pick fights； especially when the odds are all their way。 And vain about his hair。 Could hardly keep his hands off it。
〃Then your job is done；〃 I said。 〃Get over to the infirmary。〃
His lower lip pooched out。 Bill Dodge and his men were moving boxes and stacks of sheets； even the beds； the whole infirmary was going to a new frame building over on the west side of the prison。 Hot work； heavy lifting。 Percy Wetmore wanted no part of either。
〃They got all the men they need；〃 he said。
〃Then get over there and straw…boss；〃 I said； raising my voice。 I saw Harry wince and paid no attention。 If the governor ordered Warden Moores to fire me for ruffling the wrong set of feathers； who was Hal Moores going to put in my place？ Percy？ It was a joke。 〃I really don't care what you do； Percy； as long as you get out of here for awhile！'
For a moment I thought he was going to stick and there'd be real trouble； with Coffey standing there the whole time like the world's biggest stopped clock。 Then Percy rammed his billy back into its hand…tooled holster…foolish damned vanitorious thing … and went stalking up the corridor。 I don't remember which guard was sitting at the duty desk that day…one of the floaters； I guess … but Percy must not have liked the way he looked； because he growled； 〃You wipe that smirk off your shitepoke face or I'll wipe it off for you〃 as he went by。 There was a rattle of keys； a momentary blast of hot sunlight from the exercise yard； and then Percy Wetmore was gone； at least for the time being。 Delacroix's mouse ran back and forth from one of the little Frenchman's shoulders to the other； his filament whiskers twitching。
〃Be still； Mr。 Jingles；〃 Delacroix said； and the mouse stopped on his left shoulder just as if he had understood。 〃Just be so still and so quiet。〃 In Delacroix's lilting Cajun accent； quiet came out sounding exotic and foreign … kwaht。
〃You go lie down； Del；〃 I said curtly。 〃Take you a rest。 This is none of your business； either！'
He did as I said。 He had raped a young girl and killed her； and had then dropped her body behind the apartment house where she lived； doused it with coal…oil； and then set it on fire； hoping in some muddled way to dispose of the evidence of his crime。 The fire had spread to the building itself； had engulfed it； and six more people had died； two of them children。 It was the only crime he had in him； and now he was just a mild…mannered man with a worried face； a bald pate； and long hair straggling over the back of his shirt…collar。 He would sit down with Old Sparky in a little while； and Old Sparky would make an end to him 。。。 but whatever it was that had done that awful thing was already gone； and now he lay on his bunk； letting his little panion run squeaking over his hands。 In a way； that was the worst； Old Sparky never burned what was inside them； and the drugs they inject them