whole life； and that it works consciously to bring all our decent impulses to ruin。 Not Satan； I don't mean Satan （although I believe he is real； too）； but a kind of demon of discord； a prankish and stupid thing that laughs with glee when an old man sets himself on fire trying to light his pipe or when a much…loved baby puts its first Christmas toy in its mouth and chokes to death on it。 I've had a lot of years to think on this； all the way from Cold Mountain to Georgia Pines； and I believe that force was actively at work among us on that morning； swirling everywhere like a fog； trying to keep John Coffey away from Melinda Moores。
〃Warden 。。。 Hal 。。。 I 。。。〃 Nothing I tried made any sense。
He raised the pistol again； pointing it between Brutal and me； not listening。 His bloodshot eyes had gotten very wide。 And here came Harry Terwilliger； being more or less pulled along by our big boy； who was wearing his wide and daffily charming smile。
〃Coffey；〃 Moores breathed。 〃John Coffey。〃 He pulled in breath and yelled in a voice that was reedy but strong： 〃Halt！ Halt right there； or I shoot！〃
From somewhere behind him； a weak and wavery female voice called： 〃Hal？ What are you doing out there？ Who are you talking to； you fucking cocksucker？〃
He turned in that direction for just a moment； his face confused and despairing。 Just a moment； as I say； but it should have been long enough for me to snatch the long…barrelled gun out of his hand。 Except I couldn