The Green Mile Page #10

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Paul forces himself to his feet, pulls his revolver, draws

down on Billy...

PAUL:

LET HIM GO!

...but Billy jerks Dean around, using him as a shield...

BILLY:

G'WAN, SHOOT! SEE WHO YA HIT!

Dean is choking, dying. Paul is shifting his aim, trying for

a clear shot, not getting one. Percy's still just inside the

doorway, pressed against the wall with fear...

PAUL:

HIT HIM, PERCY! GODDAMN IT, HIT

HIM!

BILLY:

C'MON, PERCY, HIT ME! HIT ME, YOU

LIMP NOODLE, HIT ME! YEEHAWWW!

...and suddenly a hand comes in, grabs the hickory stick out

of Percy's grasp, raises it high--

--it's Brutal coming through the door. He swings the baton

and lands an awesome blow to Billy's head--THUMP! The force

of it spins Billy off his feet and slams him flat on his back.

Dean crawls away, gulping ragged breaths of air. Amazingly,

Billy's still conscious--he looks up at Brutal and laughs:

BILLY:

Big f***er. Snuck up on me. No

fair.

Still laughing, he makes another grab at Dean. Brutal whacks

him again, turning his lights out for good. Brutal drops to

Dean's side, helping him hack air back into his lungs:

BRUTAL:

Breathe...breathe...that's it...

Everybody's reining in their adrenaline. Paul glares at Harry.

HARRY:

We thought he was doped.

(to Percy)

Didn't we? Didn't we all of us

think he was doped?

Percy nods, still numb. Paul is furious:

PAUL:

You didn't ask? I guess that's not

a mistake you'll be need to make

again anytime soon, is it?

Harry shakes his head miserably. Paul grabs Billy by the feet.

PAUL:

Grab his arms! You too, Percy!

(off Percy's

hesitation)

Percy, goddamn it, get your feet

out of cement and help us out here!

Percy finally unfreezes. The three of them hoist Billy up in

a dead-lift, get him in his cell, toss him on the cot. They

step out, slam the door, lock it. Paul looks to Harry and

Brutal.

PAUL:

Get Dean looked at right away,

make sure he's all right.

Percy, you go make a report to the

warden for me. Start off by saying

the situation is under control--

it's not a story, he won't

appreciate you drawing out the

suspense.

BRUTAL:

What about you? You look about

ready to collapse.

PAUL:

I've got the Mile till you all get

back. Go on now.

They all exit. As soon as he's alone, Paul gives in to the

pain, holding his crotch and sinking to his knees with a

moan. It's so bad he actually lays down on the Mile, face

pressed against the cool linoleum, wishing he were dead. A

stretch of silence...and then:

COFFEY (O.S.)

Boss? Needs ta see ya down here.

PAUL:

This is not a good time, John

Coffey. Not a good time at all.

COFFEY (O.S.)

But I needs ta see ya, boss. I

needs ta talk t'ya.

Paul sighs. Things couldn't get much worse than this. He

rises with a supreme effort, walks painfully down the Mile...

COFFEY'S CELL

...and finds Coffey waiting at his bars.

COFFEY:

Closer.

PAUL:

I'm alone here right now, John.

Figure this is close enough.

COFFEY:

Boss, please. I got to whisper in

your ear.

Paul blinks. Maybe it's the fever clouding his brain, or

maybe...hell, is this what being hypnotized is like? He tries

to shake the sensation off, comes a little closer.

DEL:

Boss? You know you not s'pose to

do dat.

PAUL:

Mind your business, Del. What do

you want, John Coffey?

COFFEY:

Just to help.

His hand shoots out, grabs Paul by the collar, jerks him

close. Paul makes a panic-grab for his revolver...

...but Coffey lays his free hand atop Paul's, eases his grip

from the gun--no need for that. Coffey's hand then drifts

slowly down, easing to Paul's crotch...

PAUL:

(stunned, frozen)

What are you...doing?

...and something goes WHUMP through Paul's body. He arches

back with his mouth agape and arms outstretched as a rush of

energy seems to pass from Paul through Coffey's hand...

...and then it's over. Paul comes back to the real world,

weak against the bars, realizes Del is hollering in his cell:

DEL:

HELP! JOHN COFFEY'S KILLING BOSS

EDGECOMB! HELP!

PAUL:

Del, Chrissake, settle down, I'm

fine...

It dawns on him that he really is fine. Fever's gone. So is

the pain in his groin. John Coffey, though, seems to be

having trouble. He sits down on his bunk, bends forward,

gagging like a man with a chicken bone caught in his throat.

PAUL:

John? John, what's wrong?

Paul fumbles his keys to the lock, unsure if he should open

the door, watching the big man's contortions grow stronger

like a cat trying to cough up a hairball...

...and then comes an unpleasant, gagging/retching sound as

Coffey's lips draw back from his teeth in a kind of godawful

sneer...and he exhales a cloud of what look like tiny black

insects. They swirl furiously in front of his face, turn

white...and disappear. Paul just stares, stunned. Softly:

PAUL:

What did you do, big boy? What did

you do to me?

COFFEY:

I helped it. Didn't I help it?

PAUL:

Yes, but...how?

Coffey shrugs--it's something that just is.

COFFEY:

Just took it back, is all. Awful

tired now, boss. Dog tired.

He rolls onto his bunk, faces the wall. Paul just stares at

him, stunned. He turns and walks up the Mile, his stiffness

and pain now gone. Del watches him go by, also stunned:

DEL:

What dat man do to you? He throw

some gris-gris on you?

(off Paul's look)

You look diff'int! Even walk

diff'int. Like y'all better!

PAUL:

You're imagining thing. Lie down,

Del. Get you some rest.

Paul continues up the Mile...

E BLOCK TOILET:

...and steps back into the toilet. Not trusting this

situation for even a moment, Paul opens his fly, takes a deep

breath to prepare himself for the pain, starts to pee...

...and we hear a healthy stream of water hitting the bowl.

The look on Paul's face says it all--blessed relief.

CUT TO:

INT. PAUL'S HOUSE - DUSK

Paul comes home from work, still looking numb about the whole

thing. He drifts to the kitchen door. Jan's at the counter,

slicing vegetables for dinner. She glances at him.

JAN:

Hi, honey. How are you feeling?

PAUL:

Um...not too bad.

She turns back. Paul's eyes drift down to admire her ass.

JAN:

What did the doctor say?

No response. He's too busy staring. She turns again--he

glances hastily up.

PAUL:

Oh, you know doctors. Gobble-de-

gook mostly.

She turns back, keeps working. He crosses the room, eyeing

her ass all the way...and surprised her by pressing up

against her from behind, running his hands along her hips.

JAN:

Paul? What are you doing?

He starts laying kisses on the back of her neck, giving her

pleasant shivers, murmuring:

PAUL:

What's it feel like?

JAN:

I know what it feels like...it

feels great...but...Paul...

He's getting her breathless. She turns into his arms and they

get into some passionate kissing. It's not too long before

they're frantically peeling each other's clothes off...

INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT

...and we find them having a wild tumble in the sheets, both

moaning and groaning, sweating and panting. She pushes him

flat on the bed, pauses to catch her breath...

JAN:

Those must've been some pills.

...and they keep going, rutting like crazed weasels...

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