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r appetites〃; I said to Elaine; and handed her the toast。 〃You try。〃
She broke off another fragment and dropped it on the floor。 Mr。 Jingles approached it; sniffed; looked at Elaine 。。。 then picked it up and began to eat。
〃You see?〃 I said。 〃He knows you're not a floater。
〃Where did he e from; Paul?〃
〃Haven't a clue。 One day when I went out for my early…morning walk; he was just here; lying on the kitchen steps。 I knew who he was right away; but I got a spool out of the laundry room occasional basket just to be sure。 And I got him a cigar box。 Lined it with the softest stuff I could find。 He's like us; Ellie; I think…most days just one big sore place。 Still; he hasn't lost all his zest for living。 He still likes his spool; and he still likes a visit from his old blockmate。 Sixty years I held the story of John Coffey inside me; sixty and more; and now I've told it。 I kind of had the idea that's why he came back。 To let me know I should hurry up and do it while there was still time。 Because I'm like him … getting there。〃
〃Getting where?〃
〃Oh; you know〃; I said; and we watched Mr。 Jingles for awhile in silence。 Then; for no reason I could tell you; I tossed the spool again; even though Elaine had asked me not to。 Maybe only because; in a way;
him chasing a spool was like old people having their slow and careful version of sex … you might not want to watch it; you who are young and convinced that; when it es to old age; an exception will be made in your case; but they still want to do it。
Mr。 Jingles set off after the rolling spool again; clearly with pain; and just as clearly (to me; at least) with all his old; obsessive enjoyment。
〃Ivy…glass windows;〃 she whispered; watching him go。
〃Ivy…glass windows;〃