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〃Poor Del；〃 he said in a low； hoarse voice。 〃Poor old Del。〃
〃Yes；〃 I said。 〃Poor old Del。 John； are you okay？〃
〃He's out of it；〃 Coffey said。 〃Del's out of it。 Isn't he； boss？〃
〃Yes。 Answer my question； John。 Are you okay？〃
〃Del's out of it； he's the lucky one。 No matter how it happened； he's the lucky one。〃
I thought Delacroix might have given him an argument on that； but didn't say so。 I glanced around Coffey's cell； instead。 〃Where's Mr。 Jingles？〃
〃Ran down there。〃 He pointed through the bars； down the hall to the restraint…room door。
I nodded。 〃Well； he'll be back。〃
But he wasn't； Mr。 Jingles's days on the Green Mile were over。 The only trace of him we ever happened on was what Brutal found that winter： a few brightly colored splinters of wood； and a smell of peppermint candy wafting out of a hole in a beam。
I meant to walk away then； but I didn't。 I looked at John Coffey； and he back at me as if he knew everything I was thinking。 I told myself to get moving； to just call it a night and get moving； back to the duty desk and my report。 Instead I said his name： 〃John Coffey。〃
〃Yes； boss；〃 he said at once。
Sometimes a man is cursed with needing to know a thing； and that was how it was with me right then。 I dropped down on one knee and began taking off one of my shoes。
7。
The rain had quit by the time I got home； and a late grin of moon had appeared over the ridges to the north。 My
