第3部分(第2/8 頁)

es。　His　weight　was　given　as　two…eighty；　but　I　think　that　was　only　an　estimate；　he　had　to　have　been　three　hundred　and　twenty；　maybe　as　much　as　three　hundred　and　fifty　pounds。　Under　the　space　for　scars　and　identifying　marks；　one　word　had　been　blocked　out　in　the　laborious　printing　of　Magnusson；　the　old　trusty　in　Registration：　Numerous。

I　looked　up。　Coffey　had　shuffled　a　bit　to　one　side　and　I　could　see　Harry　standing　across　the　corridor　in　front　of　Delacroix's　cell　…　he　was　our　only　other　prisoner　in　E　Block　when　Coffey　came　in。　Del　was　a　slight；　balding　man　with　the　worried　face　of　an　accountant　who　knows　his　embezzlement　will　soon　be　discovered。　His　tame　mouse　was　sitting　on　his　shoulder。

Percy　Wetmore　was　leaning　in　the　doorway　of　the　cell　which　had　just　bee　John　Coffey's。　He　had　taken　his　hickory　baton　out　of　the　custom…made　holster　he　carried　it　in；　and　was　tapping　it　against　one　palm　the　way　a　man　does　when　he　has　a　toy　he　wants　to　use。　And　all　at　once　I　couldn't　stand　to　have　him　there。　Maybe　it　was　the　unseasonable　heat；　maybe　it　was　the　urinary　infection　heating　up　my　groin　and　making　the　itch　of　my　flannel　underwear　all　but　unbearable；　maybe　it　was　knowing　that　the　state　had　sent　me　a　black　man　next　door　to　an　idiot　to　execute；　and　Percy　clearly　wanted　to　hand…tool　him　a　little　first。　Probably　it　was　all　those　things。　Whatever　it　was；　I　stopped　caring　about　his　political　connections　for　a　little　while。

〃Percy。〃　I　said。　〃They're　moving　house　over　in