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Andy: My wife used to say I'm a hard man to know. Like a closed book. Complained about it all the time. She was beautiful. God, I loved her. I just didn't know how to show it, that's all. I killed her, Red. I didn't pull the trigger. But I drove her away. And that's why she died, because of me. The way I am. Red: [sits next to Andy] That don't make you a murderer. A bad husband, maybe. Feel bad about it if you want to, but you didn't pull the trigger. Andy: No, I didn't. Somebody else did. And I wound up in here. [scoffs] Bad luck, I guess. Red: [sighs] Yeah. Andy: It floats around. It's got to land on somebody. It was my turn, that's all. I was in the path of the tornado. [sighs] I just didn't expect the storm would last as long as it has. Think you'll ever get out of here? Red: Me? [sighs] Yeah, one day when I got a long, white beard and two or three marbles rolling around upstairs, they'll let me out. Andy: I tell you where I'd go. Zihuatanejo. Red: Say what? Andy: Zihuatanejo. It's in Mexico. A little place on the Pacific Ocean. You know what the Mexicans say about the Pacific? Red: No. Andy: They say it has no memory. That's where I want to live the rest of my life. A warm place with no memory. Open up a little hotel, right on the beach, buy some worthless old boat, and fix it up new. Take my guests out charter fishing. Red: Zihuatanejo. Andy: In a place like that, I could use a man that knows how to get things. Red: I don't think I could make it on the outside, Andy. I been in here most of my life. I'm an institutional man now. Just like Brooks was. Andy: Well, you underestimate yourself. Red: I don't think so. In here, I'm the guy who can get things for you, sure, but outside all you need is the Yellow Pages. Hell, I wouldn't know where to begin. Pacific Ocean? Shit. Might scare me to death, something that big. Andy: Not me. I didn't shoot my wife, and I didn't shoot her lover. Whatever mistakes I made, I've paid for them and then some. That hotel, that boat, I don't think that's too much to ask. Red: I don't think you ought to be doing this to yourself, Andy. This is just shitty pipe dreams. I mean, Mexico is way the hell down there and you're in here, and that's the way it is. Andy: Yeah, right. That's the way it is. It's down there and I'm in here. I guess it comes down to a simple choice, really. Get busy livin' or get busy dyin'. [stands to leave] Red: Andy. Andy: Red. If you ever get out of here, do me a favor. Red: Sure, Andy. Anything. Andy: There's a big hayfield up near Buxton. You know where Buxton is? Red: Well, there's... there's a lot of hayfields up there. Andy: One in particular. It's got a long rock wall with a big oak tree at the north end. It's like something out of a Robert Frost poem. It's where I asked my wife to marry me. We went there for a picnic and made love under that oak and I asked and she said yes. Promise me, Red. If you ever get out... find that spot. At the base of that wall, you'll find a rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. Piece of black, volcanic glass. There's something buried under it I want you to have. Red: What, Andy? What's buried under there? Andy: You'll have to pry it up... to see.

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