sk.petsematary-第12章

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ind　Louis's　eyes。　Then　everything　let　go　at　once。　There　was　a　bad　stink。　Louis　thought　he　would；　must　speak　again。　Then　the　eyes　resumed　their　vacant　expression。　。　。　and　began　to　glaze。　The　man　was　dead。
　　Louis　sat　back；　vaguely　aware　that　all　his　clothes　were　sticking　to　him；　he　was　drenched　with　sweat。　Darkness　bloomed；　spreading　a　wing　softly　over　his　eyes；　and　the　world　began　to　swing　sickeningly　sideways。　Recognizing　what　was　happening；　he　half…turned　from　the　dead　man；　thrust　his　head　down　between　his　knees；　and　pressed　the　nails　of　his　left　thumb　and　left　forefinger　into　his　gums　hard　enough　to　bring　blood。
　　After　a　moment　the　world　began　to　clear　again。
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　　Then　the　room　filled　up　with　people；　as　if　they　were　all　only　actors；　waiting　for　their　cue。　This　added　to　Louis's　feeling　of　unreality　and　disorientation…the　strength　of　these　feelings；　which　he　had　studied　in　psychology　classes　but　never　actually　experienced；　frightened　him　badly。　It　was；　he　supposed；　the　way　a　person　would　feel　shortly　after　someone　had　slipped　a　powerful　dose　of　LSD　into　his　drink。
　　Like　a　play　staged　only　for　my　benefit；　he　thought。　The　room　is　first　conveniently　cleared　so　the　dying　Sibyl　can　speak　a　few　lines　of　oblique　prophecy　to　me　and　me　alone；　and　as　soon　as　he's　dead；　everyone　es　back。
　　The　candy…stripers　bungled　in；　one　on　each　end　of　the　hard　stretcher；　the　one　they　used　for　people　with　spinal　or　neck　injuries。　Joan　Charlton　followed　them；　saying　that　the　campus　police　were　on　their　way。　The　young　man　had　been　struck　by　a　car　while　jogging。　Louis　thought　of　the　joggers　who　had　run　in　front　of　his　car　that　morning　and　his　guts　rolled。
　　Behind　Charlton　came　Steve　Masterton　with　two　Campus　Security　cops。　〃Louis；　the　people　who　brought　Pascow　in　are　。　。　。〃　He　broke　off　and　said　sharply；　〃Louis；　are　you　all　right？〃
　　〃I'm　okay；〃　he　said　and　got　up。　Faintness　washed　over　him　again　and　then　withdrew。　He　groped。　〃Pascow　is　his　name？〃
　　One　of　the　campus　cops　said；　〃Victor　Pascow；　according　to　the　girl　he　was　jogging　with。〃
　　Louis　glanced　at　his　watch　and　subtracted　two　minutes。　From　the　room　where　Masterton　had　sequestered　the　people　who　had　brought　Pascow　in；　he　could　hear　a　girl　sobbing　wildly。　Wele　back　to　school；　little　lady；　he　thought。　Have　a　nice　semester。　〃Mr。　Pascow　died　at　10：09　A。M。；〃　he　said。
　　One　of　the　cops　wiped　the　back　of　his　hand　across　his　mouth。　Masterton　said　again；　〃Louis；　are　you　really　okay？　You　look　terrible。〃
　　Louis　opened　his　mouth　to　answer；　and　one　of　the　candy　stripers　abruptly　dropped　her　end　of　the　hard　stretcher　and　ran　out；　vomiting　down　the　front　of　her　pinafore。　A　phone　began　to　ring。　The　girl　who　had　been　sobbing　now　began　to　scream　the　dead　man's　name…〃Vic！　Vic！　Vic！〃…over　and　over。　Bedlam。　Confusion。　One　of　the　cops　was　asking　Charlton　if　they　could　have　a　blanket　to　cover　him　up；　and　Chariton　was　saying　she　didn't　know　if　she　had　the　authority　to　requisition　one；　and　Louis　found　himself　thinking　of　a　line　from　Maurice　Sendak：　〃Let　the　wild　rumpus　start！〃
　　Those　rotten　giggles　rose　in　his　throat　again；　and　somehow　he　managed　to　bottle　them　up。　Had　this　Pascow　really　said　the　words　Pet　Sematary？　Had　this　Pascow　really　spoken　his　name？　Those　were　the　things　that　were　knocking　him　off　kilter；　the　things　that　had　sent　him　wobbling　out　of　orbit。　But　already　his　mind　seemed　to　be　wrapping　those　few　moments　in　a　protective　film…sculpting；　changing；　disconnecting。　Surely　he　had　said　something　else　（if　he　had　indeed　spoken　at　all）；　and　in　the　shock　and　unhappy　passion　of　the　moment；　Louis　had　misinterpreted　it。　More　likely；　Pascow　had　only　mouthed　sounds；　as　he　had　at　first　thought。
　　Louis　groped　for　himself；　for　that　part　of　himself　that　had　caused　the　administration　to　give　him　this　job　over　the　other　fifty…three　applicants　for　the　position。　There　was　no　one　in　mand　here；　no　forward　motion；　the　room　was　full　of　milling　people。
　　〃Steve；　go　give　that　girl　a　trank；〃　he　said；　and　just　saying　the　words　made　him　feel　better。　It　was　as　if　he　were　in　a　rocketship　under　power　now；　puffing　away　from　a　tiny　moonlet。　Said　moon…let　being；　of　course；　that　irrational　moment　when　Pascow　had　spoken。　Louis　had　been　hired　to　take　charge；　he　was　going　to　do　it。
　　〃Joan。　Give　the　cop　a　blanket。〃
　　〃Doctor；　we　haven't　inventoried…〃
　　〃Give　it　to　him　anyway。　Then　check　on　that　candy…striper。〃　He　looked　at　the　other　girl；　who　still　held　her　end　of　the　hard　stretcher。　She　was　staring　at　Pascow's　remains　with　a　kind　of　hypnotized　fascination。　〃Candy…striper！〃　Louis　said　harshly；　and　her　eyes　jerked　away　from　the　body。
　　〃W…W…Wh…〃
　　〃What's　the　other　girl's　name？〃
　　〃W…Who？〃
　　〃The　one　who　puked；〃　he　said　with　deliberate　harshness。
　　〃Juh…Juh…Judy。　Judy　DeLessio。〃
　　〃Your　name？〃
　　〃Carla。〃　Now　the　girl　sounded　a　little　more　steady。
　　〃Carla；　you　go　check　on　Judy。　And　get　that　blanket。　You'll　find　a　pile　of　them　in　the　little　utility　closet　off　Examining　Room　One。　Go；　all　of　you。　Let's　look　a　little　professional　here。〃
　　They　got　moving。　Very　shortly　the　screaming　in　the　other　room　quieted。　The　phone；　which　had　stopped　ringing；　now　began　again。　Louis　pushed　the　hold　button　without　picking　up　the　receiver　off　its　cradle。
　　The　older　campus　cop　looked　more　together；　and　Louis　spoke　to　him。　〃Who　do　we　notify？　Can　you　give　me　a　list？〃
　　The　cop　nodded　and　said；　〃We　haven't　had　one　of　these　in　six　years。　It's　a　bad　way　to　start　the　semester。〃
　　〃It　sure　is；〃　Louis　said。　He　picked　up　the　phone　and　punched　off　the　hold　button。
　　〃Hello？　Who　is…〃　an　excited　voice　began；　and　Louis　cut　it　off。　He　began　to　make　his　calls。
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　　Things　did　not　slow　down　until　nearly　four　that　afternoon；　after　Louis　and　Richard　Irving；　the　head　of　Campus　Security；　made　a　statement　to　the　press。　The　young　man；　Victor　Pascow；　had　been　jogging　with　two　friends；　one　of　them　his　fiancée。　A　car　driven　by　Tremont　Withers；　twenty…three；　of　Haven；　Maine；　had　e　up　the　road　leading　from　the　Lengyll　Women's　Gymnasium　toward　the　center　of　campus　at　an　excessive　speed。　Withers's　car　had　struck　Pascow　and　driven　him　head…first　into　a　tree。　Pascow　had　been　brought　to　the　infirmary　in　a　blanket　by　his　friends　and　two　passersby。　He　had　died　minutes　later。　Withers　was　being　held　pending　charges　of　reckless　driving；　driving　under　the　influence；　and　vehicular　manslaughter。
　　The　editor　of　the　campus　newspaper　asked　if　he　could　say　that　Pascow　had　died　of　head　injuries。　Louis；　thinking　of　that　broken　window　through　which　the　brain　itself　could　be　seen；　said　he　would　rather　let　the　Penobscot　County　coroner　announce　the　cause　of　death。　The　editor　then　asked　if　the　four　young　people　who　had　brought　Pascow　to　the　infirmary　in　the　blanket　might　not　have　inadvertently　caused　his　death。
　　〃No；〃　Louis　replied。　〃Not　at　all。　Unhappily；　Mr。　Pascow　was　in　my　opinion；　mortally　wounded　upon　being　struck。〃
　　There　were　other　questions…a　few…but　that　answer　really　ended　the　press　conference。　Now　Louis　sat　in　his　office　（Steve　Masterton　had　gone　home　an　hour　before；　immediately　following　the　press　conference…to　catch　himself　on　the　evening　news　Louis　suspected）　trying　to　pick　up　the　shards　of　the　day…or　maybe　he　was　just　trying　to　cover　what　had　happened；　to　paint　a　thin　coating　of　routine　over　it。　He　and　Charlton　were　going　over　the　cards　in　the　〃front　file〃…those　students　who　were　pushing　grimly　through　their　college　years　in　spite　of　some　disability　There　were　twenty…three　diabetics　in　the　front　file；　fifteen　epileptics；　fourteen　paraplegics；　and　assorted　others：　students　with　leukemia；　students　with　cerebral　palsy　and　muscular　dystrophy　blind　students；　two　mute　students；　and　one　case　of　sickle…cell　anemia；　which　Louis　had　never　even　seen。
　　Perhaps　the　lowest　point　of　the　afternoon　had　e　just　after　Steve　left。　Charlton　came　in　and　laid　a　pink　memo　slip　on　Louis's　desk。　Bangor　Carpet　will　be　here　at　9：00　tomorrow；　it　read。
　　〃Carpet？〃　he　had　asked。
　　〃It　will　have　to　be　replaced；〃　she　said　apologetically。　〃No　way　the　stain's　going　to　e　out；　Doctor。〃
　　Of　course　not。　At　that　point　Louis　had　gone　into　the　dispensary　and　taken　a　Tuinal…what　his　first　med　school　roommate　had　called　Tooners。　〃Hop　up　on　the　Toonerville　Trolley；　Louis；〃　he'd　say；　〃and　I'll　put　on　some　Creedence。〃　More　often　than　not　Louis　had　declined　the　ride　on　the　fabled　Toonerville；　and　that　was　maybe　just　as　well；　his　roomie　had　flunked　out　halfway　through　his　third　semester　and　had　ridden　the　Toonerville　Trolley　all　the　way　to　Vietnam　as　a　medical　corpsman。　Louis　sometimes　pictured　him　over　there；　stoned　to　the　eyeballs；　listening　to　Creedence　do　〃Run　Through　the　Jungle。〃
　　But　he　needed　something。　If　he　was　going　to　have　to　see　that　pink　slip　about　the　carpet　on　his　note…minder　board　every　time　he　glanced　up　from　the　front　file　spread　out　in　front　of　them；　he　needed　something。
　　He　was　cruising　fairly　well　when　Mrs。　Baillings；　the　night　like　doing　it…it　made　him　feel　like　the　most　rancid　sort　of　gossip
　　…but　Missy　would　accept　no　money　for　sitting；　and　he　was　grateful　to　her　for　the　evening　he　and　Rachel　had　shared。
　　Gage　was　fast　asleep　before　Louis　had　gotten　the　mile　between　Missy's　house　and　their　own；　even　Ellie　was　yawning　and　glassy…eyed。　He　put　Gage　into　fresh　diapers；　poured　him　into　his　sleeper　suit；　and　popped　him　into　his　crib。　Then　he　read　Ellie　a　storybook。　As　usual；　she　clamored　for　Where　the　Wild　Things　Are；　being　a　veteran　wild　thing　herself。　Louis　convinced　her　to　settle　for　The　Cat　in　the　Hat。　She　was　asleep　five　minutes　after　he　carried　her　up；　and　Rachel　tucked　her　in。
　　When　he　came　downstairs　again；　Rachel　was　sitting　in　the　living　room　with　a　glass　of　milk。　A　Dorothy　Sayers　mystery　was　open　on　one　long　thigh。
　　〃Louis；　are　you　really　all　right？〃
　　〃Honey；　I'm　fine；〃　he　said。　〃And　thanks。　For　everything。〃
　　'　〃We　aim　to　please；〃　she　said　with　a　curving；　slightly　saucy　smile。　〃Are　you　going　over　to　Jud's　for　a　beer？〃
　　He　shook　his　head。　〃Not　tonight。　I'm　totally　bushed。〃
　　〃I　hope　I　had　something　to　do　with　that。〃
　　〃I　think　you　did。〃
　　〃Then　grab　yourself　a　glass　of　milk；　Doctor；　and　let's　go　to　bed。〃
　　He　thought　perhaps　he　would　lie　awake；　as　he　often　had　when　he　was　interning；　and　days　that　were　particularly　hairy　would　play　over　and　over　in　his　mind。　But　he　slid　smoothly　toward　sleep；　as　if　on　a　slightly　inclined；　frictionless　board。　He　had　read　somewhere　that　it　takes　the　average　human　being　just　seven　minutes　to　turn　off　all　the　switches　and　uncouple　from　the　day。　Seven　minutes　for　conscious　and　subconscious　to　revolve；　like　the　trick　wall　in　an　amusement…park　haunted　house。　Something　a　little　eerie　in　that。
　　He　was　almost　there　when　he　heard　Rachel　say；　as　if　from　a　great　distance；〃。　。　。　day　after　tomorrow。〃
　　〃Ummmmmm？〃
　　〃Jolander。　The　vet。　He's　taking　Church　the　day　after　tomorrow。〃
　　〃Oh。〃　Church。　Treasure　your　cojónes　while　you　got　em；　Church；　old　boy。　Then　he　slipped　away　from　everything；　down　a　hole；　sleeping　deeply　and　without　dreams。
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　　Something　woke　him　much　later；　a　crash　loud　enough　to　cause　him　to　sit　up　in　bed；　wondering　if　Ellie　had　fallen　onto　the　floor　or　if　maybe　Gage's　crib　had　collapsed。　Then　the　moon　sailed　ou