The Green Mile Page #14

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DEL:

Dat's it! Dat's da place for Mr.

Jingles! You gonna be a circus

mouse after all! Gonna live in a

mouse city down in Florida!

Del tosses the spool extra hard--it takes a bad bounce off

the wall and goes clattering through the bars onto the Mile.

The mouse goes after it like a shot, too intent to notice:

His old enemy Percy.

BRUTAL:

Percy, no!

Percy stomps the heel of his heavy work shoe down on Mr.

Jingles. There's a SOFT SNAP as the mouse's back breaks.

Del screams in horror and throws himself at the bars, sobbing

the mouse's name. Percy looks to Brutal and Paul, smiles.

PERCY:

Knew I'd get him sooner or later.

Just a matter of time, really.

He turns and strolls up the Mile, leaving Mr. Jingles dying

in a tiny pool of blood. Up at the duty desk, Dean and Harry

get up from a cribbage game, stunned and furious.

Percy strolls past, exits to the execution chamber. Del is

still screaming, all his pent-up terror and grief pouring out

at the dying mouse. And then comes a soft, urgent voice:

COFFEY:

Give'm to me.

They turn. Coffey's got his arms out through his bars, one

massive hand spread open.

COFFEY:

Give'm to me. Might still be time.

Paul hesitates, scoops the mouse up off the floor, wincing at

the feel of it. Splintered bones are poking at the hide.

BRUTAL:

What are you doing?

Paul doesn't answer, just lays Mr. Jingles into Coffey's

hand. Coffey pulls the mouse in through his bars and lays his

other hand gently over it, cupping the creature. All we see

now is the tail hanging out the side, twitching weakly.

BRUTAL:

Paul, what the hell--

Paul motions him quiet. Del is pleading softly at his bars:

DEL:

Please, John. Oh Johnny, help him,

please help him, s'il vous plait.

Harry and Dean join the group. Everybody watching now.

Coffey puts his mouth to his cupped hands, inhales sharply.

The world hangs suspended for a moment. Coffey raises his

face, contorting as if desperately ill, starts making those

horrendous choking sounds in his throat...

BRUTAL:

(softly)

Oh, dear Jesus. The tail. Look at

the tail.

They do. The tail is no longer weak and dying. It's snapping

briskly back and forth, as if ready to play.

Coffey makes that retching/gagging sound...and again exhales

a cloud of swirling black "insects" from his nose and mouth.

The men watch, speechless, as the bugs turn white and

disappear.

Coffey bends down, opens his hand. Mr. Jingles bounds off his

fingers through the bars, racing past the guards' feet. They

turn to see Del gather the mouse up, laughing and crying.

Dean turns back to Coffey with a stunned whisper:

DEAN:

What did you do?

COFFEY:

I helped Del's mouse. He a circus

mouse. Goan live in a mouse city

down in...down in...

BRUTAL:

(numb)

Florida?

Coffey nods, remembering.

COFFEY:

Boss Percy's bad. He mean. He step

on Del's mouse.

(softly)

I took it back, though.

And with that, he lies back on his bunk and faces the wall.

The others look to Paul, don't even know what to say.

PAUL:

Brute, come along with me.

(to Harry and Dean)

You fellas go on back to you

cribbage game.

Harry nods numbly. Paul leads Brutal up the Mile...

EXECUTION CHAMBER

...and they enter to find Percy polishing Old Sparky's arms.

PERCY:

Don't start in on me. It was just

a mouse. Never belonged here in

the first place.

PAUL:

The mouse is fine. Just fine.

You're no better at mouse-killing

than anything else around here.

PERCY:

You expect me to believe that? I

heard the goddamn thing crunch.

Paul steps closer, angry as we've ever seen him:

PAUL:

Aren't you glad Mr. Jingles is

okay? After all our talks about

how we should keep the prisoners

calm? Aren't you relieved?

PERCY:

What kind of game is this?

PAUL:

No game. See for yourself.

Beat. Percy stalks past them, heads out onto the Mile. Paul

and Brutal just wait, saying nothing. Brutal picks up the rag

left by Percy, resumes polishing chores on Old Sparky. Paul

stretches, cracks his neck. The silence heavy...

...until Percy reappears.

PERCY:

You switched them! You switched

them somehow, you bastards!

BRUTAL:

I always keep a spare mouse in my

wallet for occasions such as this.

PERCY:

You're playing with me, the both

of you! Just who the hell do you

think you are--

Brutal grabs him , slams him bodily into the electric chair.

Paul bends close, gets right in Percy's face.

PAUL:

We're the people you work with,

Percy, but not for long. I want

your word.

PERCY:

My word?

PAUL:

I put you out front for Del, you

put in your transfer to Briar

Ridge the very next day.

PERCY:

What if I just call up certain

people and tell them you're

harassing me? Bullying me?

PAUL:

Go ahead. I promise you'll leave

your share of blood on the floor.

PERCY:

Over a mouse? You think anyone's

gonna give two shits?

PAUL:

No. But four men will swear you

stood by while Wild Bill tried to

strangle Dean to death. About that

people will care, Percy. Even your

uncle the governor will care.

BRUTAL:

Thing like that goes in your work

record. Work record can follow a

man around a long, long time.

Percy looks from one man to another, knowing he's trapped.

PAUL:

I put you out front, you put in

your transfer. That's the deal.

Percy thinks it over, nods. He tries to get up, but Paul keep

him pinned...and pointedly offer his hand.

PAUL:

You make a promise to a man, you

shake his hand.

Percy hesitates, shakes Paul's hand...

HIGH WIDE ANGLE OF EXECUTION CHAMBER

...and Paul pulls him out of the electric chair as we

DISSOLVE TO:

SAME ANGLE AS ABOVE - NEXT NIGHT

Witnesses are trickling in, filling the seats. A storm is

brewing, sending FLASHES OF LIGHTNING across the floors.

INT. DEL'S CELL - NIGHT

Del sits with Mr. Jingles in his lap, stroking the mouse

between the ears. Paul, Brutal, and Harry appear at the bars.

DEL:

Hey, boys. Say hi, Mr. Jingles.

PAUL:

Eduard Delacroix, will you step

forward?

DEL:

Boss Edgecomb?

PAUL:

Yes, Del?

DEL:

Don' let nothin' happen to Mr.

Jingles, okay?

Paul nods--I promise. Del rises, steps to Paul.

DEL:

Here, take him.

Del lifts his hand. Mr. Jingles steps off onto Paul's

shoulder with no hesitation. Gently:

PAUL:

Del. I can't have a mouse on my

shoulder while...you know.

COFFEY:

I'll take him, boss. Jus' for now.

If Del don' mind.

DEL:

Yeah, you take 'im, John. Take him

til' dis foolishment done--bien!

(to Paul and Brutal)

After, you take him down to

Florida? To dat Mouseville?

BRUTAL:

We'll do it together, most likely.

Maybe take a little vacation time.

Paul moves to Coffey's cell. The mouse skitters off Paul's

shoulder onto Coffey's hand.

DEL:

People pay a dime apiece to see

him. Two cents for the kiddies.

Ain't dat right, Boss Howell?

BRUTAL:

That's right, Del.

DEL:

You a good man, Boss Howell. You

too, Boss Edgecomb. Wish I could'a

met you bot' someplace else.

Del gives Mr. Jingles one last look, starts to cry.

DEL:

Au revoir, mon ami. Je t'aime, mon

petit.

And they start to walk the Mile...

EXECUTION CHAMBER

Sweltering in the damp heat. Rain is pissing down, drumming

the tin roof. People glance up uneasily as THUNDER BOOMS. A

FAT LADY is staring grimly at the electric chair.

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