13بخش

Andy crawled to freedom through 500 yards of shit-smelling foulness I can’t even imagine.

Or maybe I just don’t want to.

500 yards.

That’s the length of five football fields.

Just shy of half a mile.

The next morning, right about the time Raquel was spilling her little secret,

a man nobody ever laid eyes on before

strode into the Maine National Bank.

Until that moment,

he didn’t exist,

except on paper.

May I help you?

He had all the proper ID,

driver’s license, birth certificate, social security card.

And the signature was a spot-on match.

I must say, I’m sorry to be losing your business.

I hope you’ll enjoy living abroad.

Thank you.

I’m sure I will.

Here’s your cashier’s check, sir.

Will there be anything else?

Please…

Would you add this to your outgoing mail?

I’d be happy to.

Good day, sir. Good day.

Mr. Stevens visited nearly a dozen banks in the Portland area that morning.

All told, he blew town with better than $370,000 of Warden Norton’s money.

Severance pay for 19 years.

Good morning, Portland Daily Bugle.

Byron Hadley? You have the right to remain silent.

If you give up the right to remain silent, anything

you say will be held against you in court.

I wasn’t there to see it.

But I hear Byron Hadley started sobbing like a little girl when they took him away.

Norton had no intention of going that quietly.

Samuel Norton?

We have a warrant for your arrest. Open up.

Norton!

Open the door.

I’m not sure which key it is.

Norton!

Make it easy on yourself, Norton.

I like to think the last thing that went through his head,

other than that bullet,

was to wonder how the hell Andy Dufresne ever got the best of him.

Carter, James…

Not long after the Warden deprived us of his company,

I got a postcard in the mail.

It was blank but the postmark said…

Fort Hancock, Texas.

Fort Hancock.

Right on the border.

That’s where Andy crossed.

When I picture him heading south in his own car with the top down,

it always makes me laugh.

Andy Dufresne,

who crawled through a river of shit

and came out clean on the other side.

Andy Dufresne,

headed for the Pacific.

Hadley’s got him by the toes, right?

And he says, “I believe this boy’s about to have himself an accident.”

Those of us who knew him best talk about him often.

I swear, the stuff he pulled…

“These friends of mine could use a couple of beers!”

And he got it. And he got it!

Sometimes it makes me sad, though,

Andy being gone.

I have to remind myself that some birds aren’t meant to be caged.

Their feathers are just too bright.

And when they fly away,

the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.

But still…

the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they’re gone.

I guess I just miss my friend.