Andy covers his surprise. Glances at Brooks. Brooks smiles.
ANDY:
I see. Well. Why don't we have a seat and talk it over?
BROOKS:
Pull down one'a them desks there.
Andy and Dekins grab a desk standing on end and tilt it to the floor. They find chairs and settle in. Brooks returns with a tablet of paper and a pen, slides them before Andy.
ANDY:
What did you have in mind? A weekly draw on your pay?
DEKINS:
Yuh. I figured just stick it in the bank, but Captain Hadley said check with you first.
ANDY:
He was right. You don't want your money in a bank.
DEKINS:
I don't?
ANDY:
What's that gonna earn you? Two and a half, three percent a year? We can do a lot better than that.
(wets his pen) So tell me, Mr. Dekins. Where do you want to send your kids?
Harvard? Yale?
92INT -- MESS HALL -- DAY (1949) 92
FLOYD:
He didn't say that!
BROOKS:
God is my witness. And Dekins, he just blinks for a second, then laughs his ass off. Afterward, he actually shook Andy's hand.
HEYWOOD:
My ass!
BROOKS:
Shook his f***in' hand. Just about sh*t myself. All Andy needed was a suit and tie, a jiggly little hula girl on his desk, he would'a been Mister Dufresne, if you please.
RED:
Makin' yourself some friends, Andy.
ANDY:
I wouldn't say "friends." I'm a convicted murderer who provides sound financial planning. That's a wonderful pet to have.
RED:
Got you out of the laundry, didn't it?
ANDY:
Maybe it can do more than that.
(off their looks) How about expanding the library?