Boy, what a sad chapter to write during the holidays! I'm nearly at the end of the movie, which is really weird, but I still have some chapters planned before I'm ending this story :)

Hope you all had a merry Christmas and a happy new year :)

Chapter 40 - Coming to the end

The day for Alice's transfer had always been the day when Ellie too had to go back home. The death hadn't changed it; if anything, the hospital wanted her back promptly with Alice's body and doctor Briscoe autopsy report, so they could close the case as quick as possible.

"You're not in trouble, are you?" Paul asked her the morning after Alice's death, when she was about to leave with the hearse and the relased body; she had been on the phone with her supervisor from the hospital several times, since Alice was found dead in her cell and Paul rarely found it to be a good sign.

But Ellie shook her head. "It's standard procedure. The hospital doesn't want it to evolve into a huge deal in the newspaper. The sooner this case is closed, the better and I'm the key witness, so they need me right away."

"Will you come and visit us anytime soon?"

Ellie traded a glance with Brutus, smiling ingenuously. "Probably."

Brutus who seemed more pleased with that answer than Paul was, bent forward to kiss her.

"Love you."

"Love you, too. See you soon."

"Well, I don't love you," Paul said, when Ellie hugged him goodbye, "but I'm sure as hell's going to miss you."

"I will miss you all," Ellie said softly. Then she paused, looking thoughtful. "Good luck with John."

Paul nodded; Coffey's execution was still due tomorrow and no one had called to pardon him. There were still time, but Paul doubted it: John Coffey was going to die.

Brutus and Paul watched the hearse drive off and waved. They walked back to E-block in silence. Paul lingered; he was in no hurry to go back. The Mile hadn't been this quiet in several years. With only one prisoner to look after, most of the guards had either been sent home or moved to other parts of the prison. Paul found the situation slightly eerie; five cells were empty and Coffey was as unassuming as ever. He slept most of the time, made no fuss and said very little. In fact, unless you stood right outside his cell, you wouldn't even know that he was there.

But he was - and he would be the next day and a half. But when the 20th of November ran out, there would be nothing to guard but the memories and the ghost of John Coffey.

"Hey," Brutus said, nudging Paul with his elbow. "Why the long face? It's all gonna be a'right."

"Is it?" Paul muttered. Judging by the surprised look on Brutus face, they probably wasn't thinking about the same.

Paul unlocked the entrance door and walked straight into his office. He felt like being alone, but Brutus followed him and closed the door behind them.

"Paul, what's the matter?" he asked again, this time in a graver tone.

"Are you not having even the slightest doubt about what we are going to do tomorrow night?" Paul asked him, a bit harsher than he intended. "John Coffey will not be pardoned. We both know that. We are going to kill an innocent man."

He walked around his desk but found himself to be too fretful to sit down. He turned his gaze to Brutus.

"After all he's done," he said. "This is how we thank him."

"I don't think he minds, Paul," Brutus said quietly, but without looking away.

"What?"

"He's been acting different ever since he killed Wharton. Calmer. He's not afraid. Not anymore. Haven't you noticed?"

"I... I don't think he understand the gravity of the situation."

"He may be a simple man, Paul," Brutus said in a soft, but firm tone. "But John Coffey's not stupid. I think he's done here."

"'Here'?" Paul repeated in something that was nearly a hoarse whisper. "You're speaking as if..."

He stopped himself. Brutus said nothing, but Paul knew they had been grabbed by the same lingering thought: That Coffey's gift could not possibly be of this world.

"I think you should talk to him," Brutus said evenly. "Before you do anything."

Paul forced a joyless laugh. "That was exactly what my wife told me last night."

"Then, what are you waiting for?" Brutus asked him.

oOo

Paul didn't know. Maybe he was waiting for the Governor to call - or God himself; he needed someone to tell him that what he was about to do was horribly wrong. But nothing broke the uncanny silence, not a phone call, not even a booming voice from above, warning him about the fire of hell that awaited him if he took the life of John Coffey.

An hour before his shift ended he couldn't put it off anymore. Brutus walked him to Coffey's cell; Paul had waited so long that Coffey had fallen asleep and the big man stirred, when they unlocked the cell door.

Coffey pushed himself up in a sitting position and said gently: "Hello, boss."

"Hello, John," Paul responded. He couldn't quite get the strength he wanted into his voice. "I guess you know we're coming down to it now. Just another day."

Coffey nodded without taking his eyes off them. Paul walked in, grabbed the stool beside Coffey's bed and sat down in front of him.

"Is there anything special you'd like for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked, trying his best to make it sound like the talk he had with every prisoner the night before their execution. "We can rustle up almost anything."

Coffey seemed to put a lot of careful thinking into the one question.

"Meatloaf'd be nice," he finally said, a little smile crossing his lips. "Mashed tators with gravy. Okra. Maybe some of them fine cornbread you misses make, if she don't mind."

Paul nodded, thinking to himself that Janice would agree to make a ton of cornbread if that what was Coffey wanted as his last meal.

"What about a preacher?" he asked Coffey. "Someone you could say a little prayer with?"

"Don' want no preacher," Coffey responded evenly. "You can say a prayer if you like?"

"Me?" Paul said, confused. "Well, s'pose I could if it came to that."

Coffey smiled and somehow his untouchable calmness made Paul feel like his uniform was trying to strangulate him; his collar was suddenly too tight, his bandoleer wouldn't allow him to breath properly and the thick woollen jacket made him sweat. He took a deep breath.

"John," he said quietly. "I have to ask you something very important now..."

To his great surprise Coffey interrupted him gently: "I know what you're gonna say, boss. You don't have to say it."

"No, I do," Paul said firmly. "I do. I have to say it." He paused, looking into Coffey's dark eyes. "John. Tell me what you want me to do?" When Coffey didn't respond, he continued, desperate for an answer: "You want me to take you outta here? Just let you run away? See how far you can get?"

Coffey frowned. "Why would you do such a foolish thing?"

"On the day of my judgement," Paul blurted out and could hardly recognize his own voice; it sounded like the voice of a young, terrified man, "when I stand before God and He asks me why did I kill one of his true miracles, what am I gonna say? That it was my job? My job?"

"You tell God the Father that it was a kindness you done," Coffey responded softly, looking from Brutus, who stood very quietly by the cell door, and then back to Paul. He reached out and placed his hand on top of Paul's. "I know you hurtin' and worryin', I can feel it on you, but you oughtta quit on it now. Because I want it over and done. I do."

Paul looked frozen, stunned. Coffey glanced down at their hands, trying to find the right words.

"I'm tired, boss," he said. "Tired of bein' on the road, lonely as a sparrow in the rain. Tired of not ever having me a buddy to be with, or tell me where we's coming from or going to, or why. But mostly I'm tired of people being ugly to each other." There was pain in his eyes as they teared up, but his voice was still deep and calm. "I'm tired of all the pain I feel and hear in the world ever' day. There's too much of it. It's like pieces of glass in my head all the time. Do you understand?"

"Yes, John, I think I do," Paul whispered.

"I felt it in the bad man, too," Coffey said, glancing across the corridor to Wharton's old cell. "I saw it in his heart, when he touched me. I saw all the pain he had caused. I saw them girls and all the blood and all their fear..."

Paul swallowed. "The Detterick girls?"

"Yes, boss. He killed them. He killed them with their love."

"John, I don't understand..."

"They loved each other so much," Coffey said, tears now running down his cheeks, "that they didn't make a sound, when he found them on the porch. Because if one did, he would kill the other right in front of her. That's what he said."

Paul felt numb. He turned around towards Brutus; his friend looked deeply repulsed.

"That's how it is every day all over the world," Coffey said. "And I'm tired of it, boss. I don' wanna feel it no more."

The Mile fell quiet with his last words. Paul didn't know what to say. What could he say?

"But," Brutus began, his voice sounding uncharacteristic low and husky. "There must be something we can do for you, John. There must be something you want before..."

He stopped; he couldn't get himself to say it. Coffey looked at him with something that was almost concern, but he didn't answer right away. He thought about it for so long that his tears had dried, when he finally spoke up.

"I ain't never seen me a flicker show."

oOo

Brutus called Ellie the moment he got home. It was late, just before midnight, put she picked up almost right away.

"It's me."

"Hi." He could hear her smile, but her tone was cautious. "How are you."

"I..." he began, before realising that he didn't know how to response. To be honest, he didn't feel a lot. He felt mostly worried like he always did before an execution. And tired; like he hadn't slept in days. "We talked to John tonight, Paul and I. Just before I left."

Ellie didn't say anything; she waited for him to continue.

"He's ready," Brutus said. "He want to go."

"I know," Ellie responded softly. "That's why he told Alice not to be afraid. Because he never has been."

Brutus closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall in his hallway, mentally clinging to every word she said. God, he needed her here more than anything.

"We took him to the prison auditorium afterwards. He'd never seen a movie before, so we showed him 'Top Hat'"

She chuckled. "I bet he loved that."

"He was spellbound. He said they looked like angels. Couldn't talk about anything else all night."

"How's Paul?"

"He's..." He recalled Paul's quiet, thoughtful glances towards Coffey in the auditorium, when he thought no one was looking. "He's gonna be fine."

"And you?"

"I'm exhausted," he said candidly. "I just want it to be over. For all of us - must mostly John."

"It will be over soon," Ellie said quietly.

"I wish you were here."

"I will be. Soon. I'm going back the day after tomorrow as early as possible. Cross my heart and scout's honor. All right?"

He smiled in the darkness. "A'right."

She was quiet for a moment, then she said without further opening: "I love you, Brutus - and do you know why? Mostly because you are a wonderful man in every way, but right now I love you with all my heart because I know you will make him feel safe and happy until the end, just like he deserves. And that you're doing it because you want to, not because you have to. Don't forget that."