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As it turned out; our evening was far from over。
Part Six:
Coffey on the Mile
1。
I sat in the Georgia Pines sunroom; my father's fountain pen in my hand; and time was lost to me as I recalled the night Harry and Brutal and I took John Coffey off the Mile and to Melinda Moores; in an effort to save her life。 I wrote about the drugging of William Wharton; who fancied himself the second ing of Billy the Kid; I wrote of how we stuck Percy in the straitjacket and jugged him in the restraint room at the end of the Green Mile; I wrote about our strange night journey … both terrifying and exhilarating … and the miracle that befell at the end of it。 We saw John Coffey drag a woman back; not just from the edge of her grave; but from what seemed to us to be the very bottom of it。
I wrote and was very faintly aware of the Georgia Pines version of life going on around me。 Old folks went down to supper; then trooped off to the Resource Center (yes; you are permitted a chuckle) for their evening dose of work sits。 I seem to remember my friend Elaine bringing me a sandwich; and thanking her; and eating it; but I couldn't tell you what time of the evening she brought it; or what was in it。 Most of me was back in 1932; when our sandwiches were usually bought off old Toot…Toot's rolling gospel snack…wagon; cold pork a nickel; corned beef a dime。
I remember the place quieting down as the relics who live here made ready for another night of thin and t