9بخش

Get my stuff down to the laundry.

Two suits for dry-clean and a bag of whatnot. Yes, sir.

Tell them if they over-starch my shirts again, they’ll hear about it from me.

How do I look?

Very nice, sir. Big charity to-do up Portland way.

The Governor’s going to be there.

Want the rest of this?

The woman can’t bake worth shit.

Thank you, sir.

He’s got his fingers in a lot of pies, I hear. What you hear isn’t half of it.

He’s got scams you haven’t even dreamed of.

There’s a river of dirty money running through this place.

But the problem with having all that money is you’ll have to explain

where it came from. That’s where I come in.

I channel it, filter it, funnel it.

Stocks, securities, tax-free municipals.

I send that money out into the real world.

And when it comes back… Clean as a virgin’s honey pot, huh?

Cleaner.

By the time Norton retires, I’ll have made him a millionaire.

If they ever catch on, though, he’s gonna wind up in here wearing a number himself.

Now, Red, I thought you had a little more faith in me than that.

I know you’re good, Andy, but all that paper leaves a trail.

Now, anybody gets curious, the FBI, the IRS, whatever,

it’s gonna lead to somebody.

Sure it is. But not to me.

And certainly not to the Warden.

All right. Who?

Randall Stevens.

Who?

The silent silent partner. He’s the guilty one, Your Honor. The man with the bank accounts.

That’s where the filtering process starts.

If they trace anything, it’s just going to lead to him.

But who is he?

He’s a phantom, an apparition.

Second cousin to Harvey the Rabbit.

I conjured him…

out of thin air.

He doesn’t exist, except on paper.

Andy, you can’t just make a person up.

Sure you can, if you know how the system works, where the cracks are.

It’s amazing what you can accomplish by mail.

Mr. Stevens has a birth certificate,

a driver’s license, social security number.

You’re shitting me?

If they ever trace any of those accounts,

they’re going to wind up chasing a figment of my imagination.

Well, I’ll be damned.

Did I say you were good?

Shit, you’re a Rembrandt!

You know, the funny thing is,

on the outside, I was an honest man, straight as an arrow.

I had to come to prison to be a crook.

Ever bother you?

I don’t run the scams, Red, I just process the profits.

Fine line maybe but…

I also built that library

and used it to help a dozen guys get a high school diploma.

Why do you think the Warden lets me do it?

To keep you happy and doing the laundry.

Money instead of sheets.

Well, I work cheap. That’s the trade-off.

Tommy Williams came to Shawshank in 1965

on a two-year stretch for B&E.

That’s breaking and entering to you.

The cops caught him sneaking TV sets out the back door of a JC Penney.

Young punk.

Mr. Rock’n’roll.

Cocky as hell.

Hey, come on, old boys! Moving like molasses!

Making me look bad.

We liked him immediately.

So I’m backing out the door, right?

And I got the TV like this.

It was a big old thing. I couldn’t see shit. Suddenly, I hears this voice.

“Freeze, kid! Hands in the air.”

Well, I just stand there,

holding onto that TV. So, finally, the voice says,

“Do you hear what I said, boy?”

I say, “Yes, sir, I sure did.

But if I drop this **ing thing, you got me on destruction of property, too.”

Hey, you’ve done a stretch in Cashman, right?

Yeah. Yeah, that was an easy piece of time, let me tell you.

Weekend furloughs, work programs.

Not like here.

Sounds like you done time all over New England.

Yeah, I’ve been in and out since I was 13. You name the place, chances are I’ve been there.

Perhaps it’s time you tried a new profession?

What I mean is, you don’t seem to be a good thief. Maybe you should try something else.

Yeah, well, what the hell do you know about it, Capone?

What are you in for?

Me?

The lawyer **ed me.

Everybody’s innocent in here. Don’t you know that?

As it turned out, Tommy had himself a young wife and a new baby girl.

Maybe it was the thought of them on the streets

or his child growing up not knowing her daddy.

Whatever it was, something lit a fire under that boy’s ass.

I was thinking of maybe trying for my high school equivalency.

I hear you helped a couple of fellas with that.

I don’t waste time on losers, Tommy.

I ain’t no goddamn loser.

You mean that? Yeah.

You really mean that?

Yes, sir, I do.

Good. Because if we do this,

we do it all the way, 100%, nothing half-assed.

The thing is, see…

..I don’t read so good.

Well.

You don’t read…

so well.

We’ll get to that.

So Andy took Tommy under his wing.

He started walking him through his ABCs.

Tommy took to it pretty well, too.

The boy found brains he never knew he had.

Before long, Andy started him on his course requirements.

He really liked the kid.

It gave him a thrill to help a youngster crawl off the shit heap.

But that wasn’t the only reason.

Prison time is slow time.

So you do what you can to keep going.

Some fellas collect stamps.

Others build matchstick houses.

Andy built a library.

Now he needed a new project.

Tommy was it.

It was the same reason he spent years shaping and polishing those rocks.

The same reason he hung his fantasy girlies on the wall.

In prison,

a man will do most anything to keep his mind occupied.

Time.

Well?

Well, it’s for shit.

I wasted a whole **ing year of my time with this bullshit.

It’s probably not as bad as you think.

It’s worse. I didn’t get one thing right. It might as well have been in Chinese.

Let’s see how the score comes out.

Well, I’ll tell you how the goddamn score comes out.

Two points right there.

There’s your goddamn score!

Goddamn cats crawling up trees, 5x5 is 25.

Fuck this place!

Fuck it!