第38部分(第2/8 頁)

sleepiness　seemed　to　have　gone　with　the　clouds。　I　was　wide　awake；　and　I　could　smell　Delacroix　on　me。　I　thought　I　might　smell　him　on　my　skin　…　barbecue；　me　and　you；　stinky；　pinky；　phew…phew…phew　…　for　a　long　time　to　e。

Janice　was　waiting　up；　as　she　always　did　on　execution　nights。　I　meant　not　to　tell　her　the　story；　saw　no　sense　in　harrowing　her　with　it；　but　she　got　a　clear　look　at　my　face　as　I　came　in　the　kitchen　door　and　would　have　it　all。　So　I　sat　down；　took　her　warm　hands　in　my　cold　ones　（the　heater　in　my　old　Ford　barely　worked；　and　the　weather　had　turned　a　hundred　and　eighty　degrees　since　the　storm）；　and　told　her　what　she　thought　she　wanted　to　hear。　About　halfway　through　I　broke　down　crying；　which　I　hadn't　expected。　I　was　a　little　ashamed；　but　only　a　little；　it　was　her；　you　see；　and　she　never　taxed　me　with　the　times　that　I　slipped　from　the　way　I　thought　a　man　should　be　。。。　the　way　I　thought　I　should　be；　at　any　rate。　A　man　with　a　good　wife　is　the　luckiest　of　God's　creatures；　and　one　without　must　be　among　the　most　miserable；　I　think；　the　only　true　blessing　of　their　lives　that　they　don't　know　how　poorly　off　they　are。　I　cried；　and　she　held　my　head　against　her　breast；　and　when　my　own　storm　passed；　I　felt　better　。。。　a　little；　anyway。　And　I　believe　that　was　when　I　had　the　first　conscious　sight　of　my　idea。　Not　the　shoe；　I　don't　mean　that。　The　shoe　was　related；　but　different。　All　my　real　idea　was　right　then；　however；　was　an　odd　realization：　that　John　Coffey　and　Melinda　Moores