Red finds Andy sitting in the shadow of the high stone wall, poking listlessly through the dust for small pebbles. Red waits for some acknowledgment. Andy doesn't even look up.Nothing is said for the longest time. And then, softly.

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 hunkers down and joins him.

Red: That don't make you a murderer. Bad husband, maybe. Feel bad about it if you want. But you didn't pull the trigger.

Andy: No, I didn't. Somebody else did, and I wound up here. Bad luck, I guess.

Red: Yeah.

Andy: It floats around, and lands on somebody. It was my turn, that's all. I was in the path of the tornado. (softly) I just didn’t expect the storm would last as long as it has. (glances to Red) Think you'll ever get out of here?

Red: Me? Yeah. One day, when I got a long white beard and two or three marbles rolling around upstairs.

Andy: I’ll 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? 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 stares at Andy, laughs.

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’ve been in here most of my life. I'm an institutional man now. Just like Brooks was.

Andy: 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 Yellow Pages. Hell, I wouldn't know where to begin. (Derisive snort) Pacific Ocean? Shit. Scare me to death, something that big.

Andy:Not me. I didn't shoot my wife and I didn't shoot her lover, and whatever mistakes I made I've paid for and then some. That hotel, that boat...I don't think it's too much to ask.

Red: I don't think you ought to be doing this to yourself, Andy. This is just shitty pipedreams. 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 living or get busy dying.

Andy rises and walks away. Red lunges to his feet.

Red: Andy?

Andy: (turns back) Red, if you ever get out of here, do me a favor.

Red: Sure, Andy. Anything.

Andy: There's this big hayfield up near Buxton. You know where Buxton is?

Red: (nods) There’s a lot of hayfields up there.

Andy: One in particular. It's got a long rock wall, 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. In the base of that wall, you'll find a rock that has no earthly business in a Maine hayfield. A 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.

Andy turns and walks away.