I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.
Andy was as good as his word. He wrote two letters a week instead of one. In 1959 the state senate finally clued in to the fact they couldn't buy him off with just a two-hundred-dollar check. Appropriations committee voted an annual payment of five hundred dollars just to shut him up. And you'd be amazed how far Andy could stretch it.