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〃Don't you fall down and hurt yourself； woman。 I'd never forgive myself if … 〃
〃Oh； stop your fussing；〃 she said； and this time she kissed me。 Love among the ruins。 It probably sounds funny to some of you and grotesque to the rest of you； but I'll tell you something； my friend： weird love's better than no love at all。
I watched her walk away； moving slowly and stiffly （but she will only use a cane on wet days； and only then if the pain is terrible； it's one of her vanities）； and waited。 Five minutes went by； then ten； and just as I was deciding she had either lost her courage or discovered that the battery of the smoke detector in the toilet was dead； the fire alarm went off in the west wing with a loud； buzzing burr。
I started toward the kitchen at once； but slowly … there was no reason to hurry until I was sure Dolan was out of my way。 A gaggle of old folks； most still in their robes； came out of the TV room （here it's called the Resource Center； now that's grotesque） to see what was going on。 Chuck Howland was among them； I was happy to see。
〃Edgebe！〃 Kent Avery rasped； hanging onto his walker with one hand and yanking obsessively at the crotch of his pajama pants with the other。 〃Real alarm or just another falsie？ What do you think？〃
〃No way of knowing； I guess；〃 I said。
Just about then three orderlies went trotting past； all headed for the west wing； yelling at the folks clustered around the TV…room door to go outside and wait for the all…clear。 The third in line was Brad Dolan。 He didn't even look at me as he went past； a fact that pleased me to no end。 As I went on down toward the kitchen； it occurred to me that the team of Elaine Connelly and Paul Edgebe would probably be a match for a dozen Brad Dolans； with half a dozen Percy Wetmores thrown in for good measure。
The cooks in the kitchen were continuing to clear up breakfast； paying no attention to the howling fire。 alarm at all。
〃Say； Mr。 Edgebe；〃 George said。 〃I believe Brad Dolan been lookin for you。 In fact； you just missed him。〃
Lucky me； I thought。 What I said out loud was that I'd probably see Mr。 Dolan later。 Then I asked if there was any leftover toast lying around from breakfast。
〃Sure；〃 Norton said； 〃but it's stone…cold dead in the market。 You runnin late this morning。〃
〃I am；〃 I agreed； 〃but I'm hungry。〃
〃Only take a minute to make some fresh and hot；〃 George said； reaching for the bread。
〃Nope； cold will be fine；〃 I said； and when he handed me a couple of slices （looking mystified … actually both of them looked mystified）； I hurried out the door； feeling like the boy I once was； skipping school to go fishing with a jelly fold…over wrapped in waxed paper slipped into the front of my shirt。
Outside the kitchen door I took a quick； reflexive look around for Dolan； saw nothing to alarm me； and hurried across the croquet course and putting green； gnawing on one of my pieces of toast as I went。 I slowed a little as I entered the shelter of the woods； and as I walked down the path； I found my mind turning to the day after Eduard Delacroix's terrible execution。
I had spoken to Hal Moores that morning； and he had told me that Melinda's brain tumor had caused her to lapse into bouts of cursing and foul language 。。。 what my wife had later labelled （rather tentatively； she wasn't sure it was really the same thing） as Tourette's Syndrome。 The quavering in his voice； coupled with the memory of how John Coffey had healed both my urinary infection and the broken back of Delacroix's pet mouse； had finally pushed me over the line that runs between just thinking about a thing and actually doing a thing。
And there was something else。 Something that had to do with John Coffey's hands； and my shoe。
So I had called the men I worked with； the men I had trusted my life to over the years … Dean Stanton； Harry Terwilliger； Brutus Howell。 They came to lunch at my house on the day after Delacroix's execution； and they at least listened to me when I outlined my plan。 Of course； they all knew that Coffey had healed the mouse； Brutal had actually seen it。 So when I suggested that another miracle might result if we took John Coffey to Melinda Moores； they didn't outright laugh。 It was Dean Stanton who raised the most troubling question： What if John Coffey escaped while we had him out on his field…trip？
〃Suppose he killed someone else？〃 Dean asked。 〃I'd hate losing my job； and I'd hate going to jail … I got a wife and kids depending on me to put bread in their mouths … but I don't think I'd hate either of those things near as much as having another little dead girl on my conscience。〃
There was silence； then； all of them looking at me； waiting to see how I'd respond。 I knew everything would change if I said what was on the tip of my tongue； we had reached a point beyond which retreat would likely bee impossible。
Except retreat； for me； at least； was already impossible。 I opened my mouth and said
2。
〃That won't happen。〃
〃How in God's name can you be so sure？〃 Dean asked。
I didn't answer。 I didn't know just how to begin。 I had known this would e up； of course I had； but I still didn't know how to start telling them what was in my head and heart。 Brutal helped。
〃You don't think he did it； do you； Paul？〃 He looked incredulous。 〃You think that big lug is innocent。〃
〃I'm positive he's innocent；〃 I said。
〃How can you be？〃
〃There are two things；〃 I said。 〃One of them is my shoe。〃
〃Your shoe？〃 Brutal exclaimed。 'What has your shoe got to do with whether or not John Coffey killed those two little girls？〃
〃I took off one of my shoes and gave it to him last night；〃 I said。 〃After the execution； this was； when things had settled back down a little。 I pushed it through the bars； and he picked it up in those big hands of his。 I told him to tie it。 I had to make sure； you see； because all our problem children normally wear is slippers … a man who really wants to mit suicide can do it with shoelaces； if he's dedicated。 That's something all of us know。〃
They were nodding。
〃He put it on his lap and got the ends of the laces crossed over all right； but then he was stuck。 He said he was pretty sure someone had showed him how to do it when he was a lad … maybe his father or maybe one of the boyfriends his mother had after the father was gone … but he'd forgot the knack。〃
〃I'm with Brutal … I still don't see what your shoe has to do with whether or not Coffey killed the Detterick twins；〃 Dean said。
So I went over the story of the abduction and murder again … what I'd read that hot day in the prison library with my groin sizzling and Gibbons snoring in the er； and all that the reporter； Hammersmith； told me later。
〃The Dettericks' dog wasn't much of a biter； but it was a world…class barker；〃 I said。 〃The man who took the girls kept it quiet by feeding it sausages。 He crept a little closer every time he gave it one； I imagine； and while the mutt was eating the last one； he reached out； grabbed it by the head； and twisted。 Broke its neck。
〃Later； when they caught up with Coffey； the deputy in charge of the posse … Rob McGee； his name was…spotted a bulge in the chest pocket of the biballs Coffey was wearing。 McGee thought at first it might be a gun。 Coffey said it was a lunch； and that's what it turned out to be … a couple of sandwiches and a pickle； wrapped up in newspaper and tied with butcher's string。 Coffey couldn't remember who gave it to him； only that it was a woman wearing an apron。…〃
〃Sandwiches and a pickle but no sausages；〃 Brutal said。
〃No sausages；〃 I agreed。
〃Course not；〃 Dean said。 〃He fed those to the dog。〃
〃Well； that's what the prosecutor said at the trial；〃 I agreed； 〃but if Coffey opened his lunch and fed the sausages to the dog； how'd he tie the newspaper back up again with that butcher's twine？ I don't know when he even would have had the chance； but leave that out of it； for the time being。 This man can't even tie a simple granny knot！〃
There was a long moment of thunderstruck silence； broken at last by Brutus。 〃Holy shit；〃 he said in a low voice。 〃How e no one brought that up at the trial？〃
〃Nobody thought of it；〃 I said； and found myself again thinking of Hammersmith； the reporter … Hammersmith who had been to college in Bowling Green； Hammersmith who liked to think of himself as enlightened； Hammersmith who had told me that mongrel dogs and Negroes were about the same； that either might take a chomp out of you suddenly； and for no reason。 Except he kept calling them your Negroes； as if they were still property 。。。 but not his property。 No； not his。 Never his。 And at that time； the South was full of Hammersmiths。 … Nobody was really equipped to think of it； Coffey's own attorney included。〃
〃But you did；〃 Harry said。 〃Goddam； boys； we're sittin here with Mr。 Sherlock Holmes。〃 He sounded simultaneously joshing and awed。
〃Oh； put a cork in it；〃 I said。 〃I wouldn't have thought of it either； if I hadn't put together what he told Deputy McGee that day with what he said after he cured my infection； and what he said after he healed the mouse。〃
〃What？〃 Dean asked。
〃When I went into his cell； it was like I was hypnotized。 I didn't feel like I could have stopped doing what he wanted； even if I'd tried。〃
〃I don't like the sound of that；〃 Harry said； and shifted uneasily in his seat。
〃I asked him what he wanted； and he said 'Just to help。' I remember that very clearly。 And when it was over and I was better； he knew。 'I helped it；' he said。 'I helped it； didn't I？； 〃
Brutal was nodding。 〃Just like with the mouse。 You said 'You helped it；' and Coffey said it back to you like he was a parrot。 'I helped Del's mouse。' Is that when you knew？ It was； wasn't it？。〃
〃Yeah； I guess so。 I remembered what he said to McGee when McGee asked him what had happened。 It was in every story about the murders； just about。 'I couldn't help it。 I tried to take it back； but it was too late。' A man saying a thing like that with two little dead girls in his arms； them white and blonde； him as big as a house； no wonder they got it wrong。 They heard what he was saying in a way that would agree with what they were seeing； and what they were seeing was black。 They thought he was confessing； that he was saying he'd had a pulsion to take those girls； rape them； and kill them。 That he'd e to his senses and tried to stop。
〃But by then it was too late；〃 Brutal murmured
〃Yes。 Except what he was really trying to tell them was that he'd found them； tried to heal them … to bring them back … and had no success。 They were too far gone in death。〃
〃Paul； do you believe that？〃 Dean asked。 〃Do you really； honest…to…God believe that？〃
I examined my heart as well as I could one final time； then nodded my head。 Not only did I know it now； there was an intuitive part of me that had known something wasn't right with John Coffey's situation from the very beginning； when Percy had e onto the block hauling on Coffey's arm and blaring 〃Dead man walking！ … at the top of his lungs。 I had shaken hands with him； hadn't I？ I had never shaken the hand of a man ing on the Green Mile before； but I had shaken Coffey's。
〃Jesus；〃 Dean said。 〃Good Jesus Christ。〃
〃Your shoe's one thing；〃 Harry said。 〃What's the other？〃
〃Not long before the posse found Coffey and the girls； the men came out of the woods near the south bank of the Trapingus River。 They found a patch of flattened…down grass there； a lot of blood； and the rest of Cora Detterick's nightie。 The dogs got confused for a bit。 Most wanted to go southeast； downstream along the bank。 But two of them…the coon…dogs … wanted to go upstream。 〃Bobo Marchant was running the dogs； and when he save the coonies a sniff of the nightgown； they turned with the others。〃
〃The coonies got mixed up； didn't they？〃 Brutal asked。 A strange； sickened little smile was playing around the corners of his mouth。 〃They ain't built to be trackers； strictly speaking ； and they got mixed up on what their job was。〃
'Yes。
〃I don't get it；〃 Dean said。
〃The coonies forgot whatever it was Bobo ran under their noses to get them started；〃 Brutal said。 〃By the time they came out on the riverbank； the coonies were tracking the killer； not the girls。 That wasn't a problem as long as the killer