第61部分(第2/7 頁)

ainless；　the　way　the　chair's　supporters　always　claim　（it's　not　an　idea　even　the　most　rabid　of　them　ever　seems　to　want　to　investigate　personally）；　but　it　was　quick。　The　hands　were　limp　again；　the　formerly　bluish…white　moons　at　the　base　of　the　fingernails　now　a　deep　eggplant　hue；　a　tendril　of　smoke　rising　off　cheeks　still　wet　with　salt　water　from　the　sponge　。。。　and　his　tears。

John　Coffey's　last　tears。

11。

I　was　all　right　until　I　got　home。　It　was　dawn　by　then；　and　birds　singing。　I　parked　my　flivver；　I　got　out；　I　walked　up　the　back　steps；　and　then　the　second　greatest　grief　I　have　ever　known　washed　over　me。　It　was　thinking　of　how　he'd　been　afraid　of　the　dark　that　did　it。　I　remembered　the　first　time　we'd　met；　how　he'd　asked　if　we　left　a　light　on　at　night；　and　my　legs　gave　out　on　me。　I　sat　on　my　steps　and　hung　my　head　over　my　knees　and　cried。　It　didn't　feel　like　that　weeping　was　just　for　John　；　either；　but　for　all　of　us。

Janice　came　out　and　sat　down　beside　me。　She　put　an　arm　over　my　shoulders。

〃You　didn't　hurt　him　any　more　than　you　could　help；　did　you？〃

I　shook　my　head　no。

〃And　he　wanted　to　go。〃

I　nodded。

〃e　in　the　house；〃　she　said；　helping　me　up。　It　made　me　think　of　the　way　John　had　helped　me　up　after　we'd　prayed　together。　〃e　in　and　have　coffee。〃

I　did。　The　first　morning　passed；　and　the　first　afternoon；　then　the　first　shift　back　at　work。　Time　takes　it　all；　whether　you　want　it　to　or　not。　Time　takes　it　all；　time　bears　it　away；　and　in　the　end　there　is　only　darkness。　Sometimes　we　find　others　in　that　darkness；　and　sometimes　we　lose　them　there　again。　That's　all　I　know；　except　that　this　happened　in　1932；　when　the　state　penitentiary　was　still　at　Cold　Mountain。

And　the　electric　chair；　of　course。

12。