sk.petsematary-第22章

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s　now。　His　face　was　drawn；　and　there　was　stark　terror　in　his　eyes。　But　when　he　spoke；　his　voice　was　steady　enough。　〃Just　a　loon；〃　he　said。　〃e　on。　Almost　there。〃
　　They　went　on。　The　tussocks　became　firm　ground　again。　For　a　few　moments　Louis　had　a　sensation　of　open　space；　although　that　dim　glow　in　the　air　had　now　faded；　and　it　was　all　he　could　do　to　make　out　Jud's　back　three　feet　in　front　of　him。　Short　grass　stiff　with　frost　was　underfoot。　It　broke　like　glass　at　every　step。　Then　they　were　in　the　trees　again。　He　could　smell　aromatic　fir；　feel　needles。　Occasionally　a　twig　or　a　branch　scraped　against　him。
　　Louis　had　lost　all　sense　of　time　or　direction；　but　they　did　not　walk　long　before　Jud　stopped　again　and　turned　toward　him。
　　〃Steps　here；〃　he　said。　〃Cut　into　rock。　Forty…two　or　forty…four；　I　disremember　which。　Just　follow　me。　We　get　to　the　top　and　we're　there。〃
　　He　began　to　climb　again；　and　again　Louis　followed。
　　The　stone　steps　were　wide　enough；　but　the　sense　of　the　ground　dropping　away　was　unsettling。　Here　and　there　his　shoe　gritted　on　a　strew　of　pebbles　and　stone　fragments
　　。　。　。　twelve。　。　。　thirteen。　。　。　fourteen。
　　The　wind　was　sharper；　colder；　quickly　numbing　his　face。　Are　we　above　the　treeline？　he　wondered。　He　looked　up　and　saw　a　billion　stars；　cold　lights　in　the　darkness。　Never　in　his　life　had　the　stars　made　him　feel　so　pletely　small；　infinitesimal；　without　meaning。　He　asked　himself　the　old　question…is　there　anything　intelligent　out　there？…and　instead　of　wonder；　the　thought　brought　a　horrid　cold　feeling；　as　if　he　had　asked　himself　what　it　might　be　like　to　eat　a　handful　of　squirming　bugs。
　　twenty…six。　。　。　twenty…seven。　。　。　twenty…eight。
　　Who　carved　these；　anyway？　Indians？　The　Micmacs？　Were　they　tool…bearing　Indians？　I'll　have　to　ask　Jud。　〃Tool…bearing　Indians〃　made　him　think　of　〃fur…bearing　animals；〃　and　that　made　him　think　of　that　thing　that　had　been　moving　near　them　in　the　woods。　One　foot　stumbled；　and　he　raked　a　gloved　hand　along　the　rock　wall　to　his　left　for　balance。　The　wall　felt　old；　chipped　and　channeled　and　wrinkled。　Like　dry　skin　that's　almost　worn　out；　he　thought。
　　〃You　all　right；　Louis？〃　Jud　murmured。
　　〃I'm　okay；〃　he　said；　although　he　was　nearly　out　of　breath　and　his　muscles　throbbed　from　the　weight　of　Church　in　the　bag。
　　forty…two。　。　。　forty…three。　。　。　forty…four。
　　〃Forty…five；〃　Jud　said。　〃I've　forgot。　Haven't　been　up　here　in　twelve　years；　I　guess。　Don't　suppose　I'll　ever　have　a　reason　to　e　again。　Here。　。　。　up　you　e　and　up　you　get。〃
　　He　grabbed　Louis's　arm　and　helped　him　up　the　last　step。
　　〃We're　here；〃　Jud　said。
　　Louis　looked　around。　He　could　see　well　enough；　the　starlight　was　dim　but　adequate。　They　were　standing　on　a　rocky；　rubble　strewn　plate　of　rock　which　slid　out　of　the　thin　earth　directly　ahead　like　a　dark　tongue。　Looking　the　other　way；　he　could　see　the　tops　of　the　fir　trees　they　had　e　through　in　order　to　reach　the　steps。　They　had　apparently　climbed　to　the　top　of　some　weird；　flat…topped　mesa；　a　geological　anomaly　that　would　have　seemed　far　more　normal　in　Arizona　or　New　Mexico。　Because　the　grassed…over　top　of　the　mesa…or　hill；　or　truncated　mountain；　or　whatever　it　was…was　bare　of　trees；　the　sun　had　melted　the　snow　here。　Turning　back　to　Jud；　Louis　saw　dry　grasses　bending　before　the　steady　wind　that　blew　coldly　in　his　face；　and　saw　that　it　was　a　hill；　not　an　isolated　mesa。　Ahead　of　them　the　ground　rose　again　toward　trees。　But　this　flatness　was　so　obvious；　and　so　odd　in　the　context　of　New　England's　low　and　somehow　tired　hills…　Tool…bearing　Indians；　his　mind　suddenly　spoke　up。
　　〃e　on；〃　Jud　said　and　led　him　twenty…five　yards　toward　the　trees。　The　wind　blew　hard　up　here；　but　it　felt　clean。　Louis　saw　a　number　of　shapes　just　under　the　gloom　cast　by　the　trees…trees　which　were　the　oldest；　tallest　firs　he　had　ever　seen。　The　whole　effect　of　this　high；　lonely　place　was　emptiness…but　an　emptiness　which　vibrated。
　　The　dark　shapes　were　cairns　of　stones。
　　〃Micmacs　sanded　off　the　top　of　the　hill　here；〃　Jud　said。　〃No　one　knows　how；　no　more　than　anyone　knows　how　the　Mayans　built　their　pyramids。　And　the　Micmacs　have　forgot　themselves；　just　like　the　Mayans　have。〃
　　〃Why？　Why　did　they　do　it？〃
　　〃This　was　their　burying　ground；〃　Jud　said。　〃I　brought　you　here　so　you　could　bury　Ellie's　cat　here。　The　Micmacs　didn't　discriminate；　you　know。　They　buried　their　pets　right　alongside　their　owners。〃
　　This　made　Louis　think　of　the　Egyptians；　who　had　gone　that　one　better：　they　had　slaughtered　the　pets　of　royalty　so　that　the　souls　of　the　pets　might　go　along　to　whatever　afterlife　there　might　be　with　the　souls　of　their　masters。　He　remembered　reading　about　the　slaughter　of　more　than　ten　thousand　domestic　animals　following　the　decease　of　one　pharaoh's　daughter…included　in　the　tally　had　been　six　hundred　pigs　and　two　thousand　peacocks。　The　pigs　had　been　scented　with　attar　of　roses；　the　dead　lady's　favorite　perfume；　before　their　throats　were　cut。
　　And　they　built　pyramids　too。　No　one　knows　for　sure　what　the　Mayan　pyramids　are　for…navigation　and　chronography；　some　say；　like　Stonehenge…but　we　know　damn　well　what　the　Egyptian　pyramids　were　and　are　。　。　。　great　monuments　to　death；　the　world's　biggest　gravestones。　Here　Lies　Ramses　II；　He　Was　Obedient；　Louis　thought　and　uttered　a　wild；　helpless　cackle。
　　Jud　looked　at　him；　unsurprised。
　　〃Go　on　and　bury　your　animal；〃　he　said。　〃I'm　gonna　have　a　smoke。　I'd　help　you；　but　you　got　to　do　it　yourself。　Each　buries　his　own。　That's　the　way　it　was　done　then。〃
　　〃Jud；　what's　this　all　about？　Why　did　you　bring　me　here？〃
　　〃Because　you　saved　Norma's　life；〃　Jud　said；　and　although　he　sounded　sincere…and　Louis　was　positive　he　believed　himself　sincere…he　had　a　sudden；　overpowering　sense　that　the　man　was　lying。　。　。　or　that　he　was　being　lied　to　and　then　passing　the　lie　on　to　Louis。　He　remembered　that　look　he　had　seen；　or　thought　he　had　seen；　in　Jud's　eye。
　　But　up　here　none　of　that　seemed　to　matter。　The　wind　mattered　more；　pushing　freely　around　him　in　that　steady　river；　lifting　his　hair　from　his　brow　and　off　his　ears。
　　Jud　sat　down　with　his　back　against　one　of　the　trees；　cupped　his　hands　around　a　match；　and　lit　a　Chesterfield。　〃You　want　to　rest　a　bit　before　you　start？〃
　　〃No；　I'm　okay；〃　Louis　said。　He　could　have　pursued　the　questions；　but　he　found　he　didn't　really　care　to。　This　felt　wrong　but　it　also　felt　right；　and　he　decided　to　let　that　be　enough。　。　。　for　now。　There　was　really　only　one　thing　he　needed　to　know。　〃Will　I　really　be　able　to　dig　him　a　grave？　The　soil　looks　thin。〃　Louis　nodded　toward　the　place　where　the　rock　pushed　out　of　the　ground　at　the　edge　of　the　steps。
　　Jud　nodded　slowly。　〃Ayuh；〃　he　said。　〃Soil's　thin；　all　right。　But　soil　deep　enough　to　grow　grass　is　generally　deep　enough　to　bury　in；　Louis。　And　people　have　been　burying　here　for　a　long；　long　time。　You　won't　find　it　any　too　easy；　though。〃
　　Nor　did　he。　The　ground　was　stony　and　hard；　and　very　quickly　he　saw　that　he　was　going　to　need　the　pick　to　dig　the　grave　deep　enough　to　hold　Church。　So　he　began　to　alternate；　first　using　the　pick　to　loosen　the　hard　earth　and　stones；　then　the　shovel　to　dig　out　what　he　had　loosened。　His　hands　began　to　hurt。　His　body　began　to　warm　up　again。　He　felt　a　strong；　unquestionable　need　to　do　a　good　job。　He　began　to　hum　under　his　breath；　something　he　sometimes　did　when　suturing　a　wound。　Sometimes　the　pick　would　strike　a　rock　hard　enough　to　flash　sparks；　and　the　shiver　would　travel　up　the　wooden　haft　to　vibrate　in　his　hands。　He　could　feel　blisters　forming　on　his　palms　and　didn't　care；　although　he　was；　like　most　doctors；　usually　careful　of　his　hands。　Above　and　around　him；　the　wind　sang　and　sang；　playing　a　tree…note　melody。
　　Counterpointing　this　he　heard　the　soft　drop　and　chunk　of　rock。　He　looked　over　his　shoulder　and　saw　Jud；　hunkered　down　and　pulling　out　the　bigger　rocks　he　had　dug　up；　making　a　heap　of　them。
　　〃For　your　cairn；〃　he　said　when　he　saw　Louis　looking。
　　〃Oh；〃　Louis　said　and　went　back　to　work。
　　He　made　the　grave　about　two　feet　wide　and　three　feet　long…a　Cadillac　of　a　grave　for　a　damn　cat；　he　thought…and　when　it　was　perhaps　thirty　inches　deep　and　the　pick　was　flashing　sparks　up　from　almost　every　stroke；　he　tossed　it　and　the　shovel　aside　and　asked　Jud　if　it　was　okay。
　　Jud　got　up　and　took　a　cursory　look。　〃Seems　fine　to　me；〃　he　said。　〃Anyway；　it's　what　you　think　that　counts。〃
　　〃Will　you　tell　me　now　what　this　is　about？〃
　　Jud　smiled　a　little。　〃The　Micmacs　believed　this　hill　was　a　magic　place；〃　he　said。　〃Believed　this　whole　forest；　from　the　swamp　on　north　and　east；　was　magic。　They　made　this　place；　and　they　buried　their　dead　here；　away　from　everything　else。　Other　tribes　steered　clear　of　it…the　Penobscots　said　these　woods　were　full　of　ghosts。　Later　on；　the　fur　trappers　started　saying　pretty　much　the　same　thing。　I　suppose　some　of　them　saw　the　foo…fire　in　Little　God　Swamp　and　thought　they　were　seeing　ghosts。〃
　　Jud　smiled；　and　Louis　thought：　That　isn't　what　you　think　at　all。
　　〃Later　on；　not　even　the　Micmacs　themselves　would　e　here。　One　of　them　claimed　he　saw　a　Wendigo　here　and　that　the　ground　had　gone　sour。　They　had　a　big　powwow　about　it　。　。　or　so　I　heard　the　tale　in　my　green　years；　Louis；　but　I　heard　it　from　that　old　tosspot　Stanny　B。…which　is　what　we　all　called　Stanley　Bouchard…and　what　Stanny　B。　didn't　know；　he'd　make　up。〃
　　Louis；　who　knew　only　that　the　Wendigo　was　supposed　to　be　a　spirit　of　the　north　country；　said；　〃Do　you　think　the　ground's　gone　sour？〃
　　Jud　smiled…or　at　least　his　lips　slanted。　〃I　think　it's　a　dangerous　place；〃　he　said　softly；　〃but　not　for　cats　or　dogs　or　pet　hamsters。　Go　on　and　bury　your　animal；　Louis。〃
　　Louis　lowered　the　Hefty　Bag　into　the　hole　and　slowly　shoveled　the　dirt　back　in。　He　was　cold　now　and　tired。　The　patter　of　the　earth　on　the　plastic　was　a　depressing　sound；　and　while　he　did　not　regret　ing　up　here；　that　sense　of　exhilaration　was　fading；　and　he　had　begun　to　wish　the　adventure　over。　It　was　a　long　walk　back　home。
　　The　pattering　sound　muffled；　then　stopped…there　was　only　the　whump　of　dirt　on　more　dirt。　He　scraped　the　last　bit　into　the　hole　with　the　blade　of　his　shovel　（there's　never　enough；　he　thought；　recalling　something　his　undertaker　uncle　had　said　to　him　at　least　a　thousand　years　ago；　never　enough　to　fill　the　hole　up　again）　arid　then　turned　to　Jud。
　　〃Your　cairn；〃　Jud　said。
　　〃Look；　Jud；　I'm　pretty　tired　and…〃
　　〃It's　Ellie's　cat；〃　Jud　said；　and　his　voice；　although　soft；　was　implacable。　〃She'd　want　you　to　do　it　right。〃
　　Louis　sighed。　〃I　suppose　she　would；〃　he　said。
　　It　took　another　ten　minutes　to　pile　up　the　rocks　Jud　handed　him；　one　by　one。　When　it　was　done；　there　was　a　low；　conical　pile　of　stones　on　Church's　grave；　and　Louis　did　indeed　feel　a　small；　tired　pleasure。　It　looked　right；　somehow；　rising　with　the　others　in　the　starlight。　He　supposed　Ellie　would　never　see　it…the　thought　of　taking　her　through　that　patch　of　swamp　where　there　was　quicksand　would　make　Rachel's　hair　turn　white…but　he　had　seen　it；　and　it　was　good。
　　〃Most　of　these　have　fallen　over；〃　he　said　to　Jud；　standing　and　brushing　at　the　knees　of　his　pants。　He　was　seeing　more　clearly　now；　and　in　several　places　he　could　clearly　make　out　scattered　strews　of　loose　stones。　But　Jud　had　seen　to