adder; the one that was usually kept in the storage room; which also happened to serve as the final stop for the states condemned。 There was a shelf jutting out from the back of the ladder near the top; the sort of thing a workman would use to hold his toolkit or a painter the bucket he was working out of。 There was a flashlight on it。 Brutal handed it to me。
〃Get on up there。 Youre shorter than me; so youll have to go pretty near all the way; but Ill hold your legs!〃
〃Im ticklish down there;〃 I said; starting up。 〃Especially my knees!
〃Ill mind that!〃
〃Good;〃 I said; 〃because a broken hips too high a price to pay in order to discover the origins of a single mouse。〃
〃Huh?〃
〃Never mind。〃 My head was up by the caged light in the center of the ceiling by then; and I could feel the ladder wiggling a little under my weight。 Outside; I could hear the winter wind moaning。 〃Just hold onto me。〃
〃I got you; dont worry。〃 He gripped my calves firmly; and I went up one more step。 Now the top of my head was less than a foot from the ceiling; and I could see the cobwebs a few enterprising spiders had spun in the crotches where the roof beams came together。 I shone the light around but didnt see anything worth the risk of being up here。
No;〃 Brutal said。 〃Youre looking too far away; Paul。 Look to your left; where those two beams e together。 You see them? Ones a little discolored!
〃I see。〃
〃Shine the light on the join!〃
I did; and saw what he wanted me to see almost right away。 The beams had been pegged together with dowels; half a dozen of them; and one was gone; leaving a black; circular hole the size of a quarter。 I looked at it; then looked doubtfully back over my shoulder at Brutal。 〃It was a small mouse;〃 I said; 〃but that small? Man; I dont think so。〃
〃But thats where he went;〃 Brutal said。 〃Im just as sure as houses。〃
〃I dont see how you can be。〃
〃Lean closer … dont worry I got you … and take a whiff。〃
I did as he asked; groping with my left hand for one of the other beams; and feeling a little better when I had hold of it。 The wind outside gusted again; air puffed out of that hole and into my face。 I could smell the keen breath of a winter night in the border South 。。。 and something else; as well。
The smell of peppermint。
Dont let nothing happen to Mr。 Jingles; I could hear Delacroix saying in a voice that wouldnt stay steady I could hear that; and I could feel the warmth of Mr。 Jingles as the Frenchman handed it to me; just a mouse; smarter than most of the species; no doubt; but still just a mouse for a that and a that。 Dont let that bad un hurt my mouse; hed said; and I had promised; as I always promised them at the end when walking the Green Mile was no longer a myth or a hypothesis but something they really had to do。 Mail this letter to my brother; who I havent seen for twenty years? I promise。 Say fifteen Hail Marys for my soul? I promise。 Let me die under my spirit…name and see that it goes on my tombstone? I promise。 It was the way you got them to go and be good about it; the way you saw them into the chair sitting at the end of the Green Mile with their sanity intact。 I couldnt keep all of those promises; of course; but I kept the one I made to Delacroix。 As for the Frenchman himself; there had been hell to pay。 The bad un had hurt Delacroix; hurt him plenty。 Oh; I know what he did; all right; but no one deserved what happened to Eduard Delacroix when he fell into Old Sparkys savage embrace。
A smell of peppermint。
And something else。 Something back inside that hole。
I took a pen out of my breast pocket with my right hand; still holding onto the beam with my left; not worried anymore about Brutal inadvertently tickling my sensitive knees。 I unscrewed the pens cap onehanded; then poked the nib in and teased something out。 It was a tiny splinter of wood which had been tinted a bright yellow; and I heard Delacroixs voice again; so clearly this time that his ghost might have been lurking in that room with us … the one where William Wharton spent so much of his time。
Hey; you guys! the voice said this time…the laughing; amazed voice of a man who has forgotten; at least for a little while; where he is and what awaits him。 e and see what Mr。 Jingles can do!
〃Christ;〃 I whispered。 I felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me。
〃You found another one; didnt you?〃 Brutal asked。 〃I found three or four。〃
I came down and shone the light on his big; outstretched palm。 Several splinters of wood were scattered there; like jackstraws for elves。 Two were yellow; like the one I had found。 One was green and one was red。 They hadnt been painted but colored; with wax Crayola crayons。
〃Oh; boy;〃 I said in a low; shaky voice。 〃Oh; hey。 Its pieces of that spool; isnt it? But why? Why up there?〃
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