“No, he won the National Book Award. His Pulitzer was for The Confessions of Nat Turner.”
“That’s right. You know all these books, don’t you? A high school English teacher for over forty years.”
“And I loved every minute of it.”
He puts the book back on the shelf and touches the spines of other books. “My favorites. Lonesome Dove, A Confederacy of Dunces, Catcher in the Rye, Catch-22. And here, one of my true favorites, the Travis McGee series by John D. MacDonald. I couldn’t get enough of ole Travis.”
“I know, I know. You went on and on.”
“Twenty-one books in the series, and you, Miss Iris, found every one of them. You’re pretty awesome, you know that.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Truth is, Miss Iris, I’ve enjoyed every one of them. Just look at them. How beautiful. Look at all the colors. Look at how they’ve brightened up this awful place. I have the prettiest cell on death row.”
“What will happen to them?”
Cody shakes his head, then freezes, smiles, and says, “Wait a minute. I have a great idea. I want you to have them. I want you to inherit my complete estate—my library, my letters and cards and legal files. All of my assets, Miss Iris. They’re all yours.”
“Oh no. I’m not sure what I would do—”
“You have to, Miss Iris. If you don’t they’ll just burn all this stuff. There’s no one else to take it.”
“They can’t do that.”
“Oh hell yeah they can, and they will. They’ll throw this stuff in the fire with me and have a good laugh. They gotta clear out this place for the next guy.”
“But I can’t take it with me.”
“No, of course not. Look, I have seventeen dollars in my account, money you’ve sent me for paper and stamps and stuff. Take it, and maybe add a little to it, and then maybe you can afford to ship it all to Nebraska. Please, Miss Iris. It would mean so much to me for you to keep my library and papers. All these beautiful books, plus the cards and letters and files. You gotta do it, Miss Iris.”
“Well, I suppose—”
“Sure you can, Miss Iris. These clowns would love for you to take all my stuff so they won’t have to fool with it. Please.”
“Well, okay, I guess.”
“Great, Miss Iris. This is wonderful.”
“I’ll make it happen, Cody. I promise.”
“Thank you, Miss Iris. And you’ll put all of our letters together, right?”
“Of course. I’m thinking, and I know just the right spot. There’s a wall in my study that I can clear out, and I’ll keep your books there forever, Cody. What a lovely idea.”
“This is incredible, Miss Iris. I was planning to check out of here and leave nothing behind, but now I love the idea of leaving something behind, something to remember me.”
“I’ll always remember you, Cody.”
He walks to the bars and sticks an arm through again. She clutches his hand and they share a quiet moment.
Marvin emerges from the darkness and says softly, “Warden says time is up. I’m sorry.”
Cody doesn’t acknowledge him. He looks at her face and says, “Thank you, Miss Iris. Thank you for coming here and saying goodbye.”
With one hand she wipes tears from her face. “This is so awful, Cody, and so wrong. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“Thank you for coming, and for caring all these years, and for being my friend, and for all the books and cards and money, money that you couldn’t really afford to send.”
“I consider it an honor, Cody. I just wish I could’ve done more.”
“You did more than anybody else.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Please remember me.”
She reaches up and touches his face. “I can never forget you, Cody. Never.”
Marvin gently takes the handles of her wheelchair and pulls her away and they leave. Cody strains to watch her as she disappears down the darkened hall. He tries to pull himself together. When the door clangs in the distance, he walks to his bunk, takes a seat, and buries his face in his hands.
（6）
8:50 p.m. The buzzer sounds in the distance and Cody stands to see who’s coming. It’s Jack Garber, moving slowly, hands stuck in pants pockets, absent his usual stack of files and papers. He stops at the bars and Cody walks over.
In a low, dispirited voice, Jack says, “The Supreme Court said no. The governor’s office just called with more bad news.”