of my left hand； but that was all）； and screamed his name into the shadows of the underpass。
〃John！ JOHN COFFEY！ WHERE ARE YOU； BIG BOY？〃
I walked toward those shadows； kicking aside a teddy…bear with blood on its fur； a pair of steel rimmed eyeglasses with one shattered lens； a severed hand with a gar ring on the pinky finger。 〃You saved Hal's wife； why not my wife？ Why not Janice？ WHY NOT MY JANICE？〃
No answer； only the smell of burning diesel and burning bodies； only the rain falling ceaselessly out of the gray sky and drumming on the cement while my wife lay dead on the road behind me。 No answer then and no answer now。 But of course it wasn't only Melly Moores that John Coffey saved in 1932； or Del's mouse； the one that could do that cute trick with the spool and seemed to be looking for Del long before Del showed up 。。。 long before John Coffey showed up； either。
John saved me； too； and years later； standing in the pouring Alabama rain and looking for a man who wasn't there in the shadows of an underpass； standing amid the spilled luggage and the ruined dead； I learned a terrible thing： sometimes there is absolutely no difference at all between salvation and damnation。
I felt one or the other pouring through me as we sat together on his bunk … November the eighteenth； nieen and thirty…two。 Pouring out of him and into me； whatever strange force he had in him ing through our joined hands in a way our love and hope and good intentions somehow never can； a feeling that began as a tingle and then turned into something tidal and enormous； a force beyond anything I had ever experienced before or have ever experienced since。 Since that day I have never had pneumonia； or the flu； or even a strep throat。 I have never had another urinary infe