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fection which had so troubled my life in the fall of 1932 … the fall of John Coffey； Percy Wetmore； and Mr。 Jingles； the trained mouse。
The fall of William Wharton； it had been； too。
〃Paul！〃 Elaine cried； and hurried over to me hurried as fast as the rusty nails and ground glass in her hips would allow； anyway。 〃Paul； what's wrong？〃
〃I'll be all right；〃 I said； but the words didn't sound very convincing … they came out all uneven； through teeth that wanted to chatter。 〃Just give me a minute or two； I'll be right as rain。〃
She sat next to me and put her arm around my shoulders。 〃I'm sure；〃 she said。 〃But what happened？ For heaven's sake； Paul； you look like you saw a ghost。〃
I did； I thought； and didn't realize until her eyes widened that I'd said it out loud。
〃Not really。〃 I said； and patted her hand （gently … so gently！）。 〃But for a minute。 Elaine God！〃
〃Was it from the time when you were a guard at the prison？〃 she asked。 〃The time that you've been writing about in the solarium？〃
I nodded。 〃I worked on our version of Death Row … 〃
〃I know … 〃
〃Only we called it the Green Mile。 Because of the linoleum on the floor。 In the fall of '32； we got this fellow … we got this wildman … named William Wharton。 Liked to think of himself as Billy the Kid； even had it tattooed on his arm。 Just a kid； but dangerous。 I can still remember what Curtis Anderson … he was the assistant warden back in those days … wrote abo
