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he prison laundry didn't care what it washed）； and was polishing the oak arms and legs of the electric chair。 This probably sounds bizarre to you； perhaps even macabre； but to Brutal and me； it seemed the most normal thing Percy had done all night。 Old Sparky would be meeting his public tomorrow； and。 Percy would at least appear to be in charge。
〃Percy；〃 I said quietly。
He turned the little tune he'd been humming dying in his throat； and looked at us。 I didn't see the fear I'd expected； at least not at first。 I realized that Percy looked older； somehow。 And； I thought； John Coffey was right。 He looked mean。 Meanness is like an addicting drug … no one on earth is more qualified to say that than me … and I thought that； after a certain amount of experimentation； Percy had gotten hooked on it。 He liked what he had done to Delacroix's mouse。 What he liked even more was Delacroix's dismayed screams。
〃Don't start in on me；〃 he said in a tone of voice that was almost pleasant。 〃I mean； hey； it was just a mouse。 It never belonged here in the first place； as you boys well know。〃
〃The mouse is fine；〃 I said。 My heart was thumping hard in my chest but I made my voice e out mild； almost disinterested。 〃Just fine。 Running and squeaking and chasing its spool again。 You're no better at mouse…killing than you are at most of the other things you do around here。〃
He was looking at me； amazed and disbelieving。 〃You expect me to believe that？ The goddam thi
