Brutal whammed him on the back a couple of times, then looked around at me. “He’s choking! Whatever he sucked out of her, he’s choking on it!”
I started forward. Before I got two steps, John knee-walked away from me and into the corner of the room, still coughing harshly and dragging for each breath. He laid his forehead against the wallpaper –
wild red roses overspreading a garden wall – and made a gruesome deep hacking sound, as if he were trying to vomit up the lining of his own throat. That’ll bring the bugs if anything can, I remember thinking, but there was no sign of them. All the same, his coughing fit seemed to ease a little.
“I’m all right, boss,” he said, still leaning with his forehead against the wild roses. His eyes remained closed. I’m not sure how he knew I was there, but he clearly did. “Honest I am. See to the lady.”
I looked at him doubtfully, then turned to the bed. Hal was stroking Melly’s brow, and I saw an amazing thing above it: some of her hair – not very much, but some – had gone back to black.
“What’s happened?” she asked him. As I watched, color began to blush into her cheeks. It was as if she had stolen a couple of roses right out of the wallpaper. “How did I get here? We were going to the hospital up in Indianola, weren’t we? A doctor was going to shoot X-rays into my head and take pictures of my brain.”
“Shhh,” Hal said. “Shhh, dearie, none of that matters now.”
“But I don’t understand!” she nearly wailed, “We stopped at a roadside stand … you bought me a dime packet of posies … and then … I’m here. It’s dark! Have you had your supper, Hal? Why am I in the guest room? Did I have the X-ray?” Her eyes moved across Harry almost without seeing him – that was shock, I imagine – and fixed on me. “Paul? Did I have the X-ray?”
“Yes,” I said. “It was clear.”
“They didn’t find a tumor?”
“No,” I said. “They say the headaches will likely stop now.”
Beside her, Hal burst into tears.
She sat forward and kissed his temple. Then her eyes moved to the comer. “Who is that Negro man?
Why is he in the corner?”
I turned and saw John trying to get up on his feet. Brutal helped him and John made it with a final lunge.
He stood facing the wall, though, like a child who has been bad. He was still coughing in spasms, but these seemed to be weakening now.
“John,” I said. “Turn around, big boy, and see this lady.”
He slowly turned. His face was still the color of ashes, and he looked ten years older, like a once powerful man at last losing a long battle with consumption. His eyes were cast down on his prison slippers, and he looked as if he wished for a hat to wring.
“Who are you?” she asked again. “What’s your name?”
“John Coffey, ma’am,” he said, to which she immediately replied, “But not spelled like the drink.”
Hal started beside her. She felt it, and patted his hand reassuringly without taking her eyes from the black man.
“I dreamed of you,” she said in a soft, wondering voice. “I dreamed you were wandering in the dark, and so was I. We found each other.”
John Coffey said nothing.
“We found each other in the dark,” she said. “Stand up, Hal, you’re pinning me in here.”
He got up and watched with disbelief as she turned back the counterpane. “Melly, you can’t-”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, and swung her legs out. “Of course I can.” She smoothed her nightgown, stretched, then got to her feet.
“My God,” Hal whispered. “My dear God in heaven, look at her.”
She went to John Coffey. Brutal stood away from her, an awed expression on his face. She limped with the first step, did no more than favor her right leg a bit with the second, and then even that was gone. I remembered Brutal handing the colored spool to Delacroix and saying, “Toss it – I want to see how he runs.” Mr. Jingles had limped then, but on the next night, the night Del walked the Mile, he had been fine.