i interrupt?
melinda's not so well, paul. not so well at all. got laid up with another headache yesterday. worst one yet. she's also developed this weakness in her right hand.
i'll be taking her up to indianola next day or so for some tests. had x-rays and the like. she is scared to death. truth to tell, so am i.
maybe.
this just came in. d.o.e. on bitterbuck.
no. i had an angry call from the state capital about twenty minutes ago. is it true you ordered percy wetmore off the block.
i'm sure you had reason, but like it or not, the wife of the governor of this state has only one nephew, and his name happens to be percy wetmore. i need to tell you how this lays out?
i didn't hear that part. i'm sure she didn't either.
you and brutus howell will make sure that doesn't happen.
stick with it. may not be much longer. i have it on good authority that percy has an application in at briar ridge.
administration job. better pay.
well, he'll get his chance then, won't he? maybe then he'll be satisfied and move on. in the meantime, you'll keep the peace.
thank you, paul.
yeah. paul. close the door.
uh. so you know. you got a new prisoner coming in tomorrow. william wharton. young kid. wild as hell, judging from this.
been rambling all over the state last few years, causing all kinds of trouble. finally hit big time. killed three people in a holdup, including a pregnant woman. got "billy the kid" tattooed on his left arm. bad news all around.
it's a tumor, paul. a brain tumor.
they got x-ray pictures of it. it's the size of a lemon, they said, and way down deep inside where they can't operate. they say she'll be dead by christmas. i haven't told her. i can't think how. for the life of me, paul, i can't think how to tell my wife she's going to die.
why don't you shut it down?
it's all right, folks, it's all under control. just a power surge from the storm, that's all, nothing to worry about.
what the fuck was that? jesus christ, three witnesses puked all over the floor up there! and the smell! i got van hay to open both doors, but that smell won't come out for five damn years, that's what i'm betting! and that asshole wharton is singing about it! i can hear him!
okay, boys. okay. now what the hell happened?
percy? something to say?
how many years you spend pissing on the toilet seat before somebody told you to put it up?
is that your official position?
you're a little asshole, and i don't like you a bit. have that transfer request on my desk first thing.
she's having one of her good days. i thank god for that.
sometimes she's. not herself anymore. she swears.
it just pops out, the most awful language you can imagine. she doesn't even know she's doing it. i didn't know she'd ever heard words like that. and to hear her say them in her sweet voice.  i'm glad she's having a good day, paul. i'm glad for you and jan.
who the hell goes there at two- thirty in the goddamn morning?
paul, what are you doing here at this hour? jesus, it's not a lockdown, is it? or a riot?
are you hostages? who's out there? who's by that truck?
john coffey! halt! halt right there or i shoot!
help what? i don't understand. is this a prison break?
what do you. want?
you can't. no one can.
don't you go up there! don't you do it!
shhh. it doesn't matter. it doesn't matter anymore.
melly, no.
sees paul, motions him aside to talk privately:
i'll cover you as much as i can, even if it mean my job, but i have to know. does this have anything to do with what happened at my house? does it, paul?