sk.petsematary-第43章

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　　Each　word　was　like　moving　a　handcar　loaded　with　wet　bales；　and　the　total　effort　left　Louis　feeling　exhausted。
　　〃I'm　going　to　wish　really　hard；〃　Ellie　said　calmly；　〃and　pray　to　God　for　Gage　to　e　back。〃
　　〃Ellie…〃
　　〃God　can　take　it　back　if　He　wants　to；〃　Ellie　said。　〃He　can　do　anything　He　wants　to。〃
　　〃Ellie；　God　doesn't　do　things　like　that；〃　Louis　said　uneasily；　and　in　his　mind's　eye　he　saw　Church　squatting　on　the　closed　lid　of　the　toilet；　staring　at　him　with　those　muddy　eyes　as　Louis　lay　in　the　tub。
　　〃He　does　so；〃　she　said。　〃In　Sunday　School　the　teacher　told　us　about　this　guy　Lazarus。　He　was　dead；　and　Jesus　brought　him　back　to　life。　He　said　'Lazarus；　e　forth；'　and　the　teacher　said　if　he'd　just　said　'e　forth；'　probably　everybody　in　that　graveyard　would　have　e　out；　and　Jesus　only　wanted　Lazarus。〃
　　An　absurdity　popped　out　of　his　mouth　（but　the　day　had　sung　and　gibbered　with　absurdity）：　〃That　was　a　long　time　ago；　Ellie。〃
　　〃I'm　going　to　keep　things　ready　for　him；〃　she　said。　〃I've　got　his　picture；　and　I'm　going　to　sit　in　his　chair…〃
　　〃Ellie；　you're　too　big　for　Gage's　chair；〃　Louis　said；　taking　her　hot；　feverish　hand。　〃You'll　break　it。〃
　　〃God　will　help　it　not　to　break；〃　Ellie　said。　Her　voice　was　serene；　but　Louis　observed　the　brown　half…moons　under　her　eyes。　Looking　at　her　made　his　heart　ache　so　badly　that　he　turned　away　from　her。　Maybe　when　Gage's　chair　broke；　she　would　begin　to　understand　what　had　happened　a　little　better。
　　〃I'm　going　to　carry　the　picture　and　sit　in　his　chair；〃　she　said。　〃I'm　going　to　eat　his　breakfast　too。〃　Gage　and　Ellie　had　each　had　their　own　breakfast　cereals；　Gage's；　Ellie　had　once　claimed；　tasted　like　dead　boogers。　If　Cocoa　Bears　was　the　only　cereal　in　the　house；　Ellie　would　sometimes　eat　a　boiled　egg。　。　。　or　nothing　at　all。　〃I'll　eat　lima　beans　even　though　I　hate　them；　and　I'll　read　all　of　Gage's　picturebooks　and　I'll。　。　。　I'll。　。　。　you　know。　。　。　get　things　ready。　。　。　in　case　。　。　。〃
　　She　was　crying　now。　Louis　did　not　try　to　fort　her　but　only　brushed　her　hair　back　from　her　forehead。　What　she　was　talking　about　made　a　certain　crazed　sense。　Keeping　the　lines　open。　Keeping　things　current。　Keeping　Gage　in　the　present；　in　the　Hot　One　Hundred；　refusing　to　let　him　recede；　remember　when　Gage　did　this　。　。　。　or　that　。　。　。　yeah；　that　was　great　。　。　。　good　old　Gage；　wotta　kid。　When　it　started　not　to　hurt；　it　started　not　'to　matter。　She　understood；　perhaps；　Louis　thought；　how　easy　it　would　be　to　let　Gage　be　dead。
　　〃Ellie；　don't　cry　anymore；〃　he　said。　〃This　isn't　forever。〃
　　She　cried　forever　。　。　。　for　fifteen　minutes。　She　actually　fell　asleep　before　her　tears　stopped。　But　eventually　she　slept；　and　downstairs　the　clock　struck　ten　in　the　quiet　house。
　　Keep　him　alive；　Ellie；　if　that's　what　you　want；　he　thought　and　kissed　her。　The　shrinks　would　probably　say　it's　as　unhealthy　as　hell；　but　I'm　for　it。　Because　I　know　the　day　will　e…maybe　as　soon　as　this　Friday…when　you　forget　to　carry　the　picture　and　I'll　see　it　lying　on　your　bed　in　this　empty　room　while　you　ride　your　bike　around　the　driveway　or　walk　in　the　field　behind　the　house　or　go　over　to　Kathy　McGown's　house　to　make　clothes　with　her　Sew　Perfect。　Gage　won't　be　with　you；　and　that's　when　Gage　drops　off　whatever　Hot　One　Hundred　there　is　that　exists　in　little　girls'　hearts　and　starts　to　bee　Something　That　Happened　in　1984。　A　blast　from　the　past。
　　Louis　left　the　room　and　stood　for　a　moment　at　the　head　of　the　stairs；　thinking…not　seriously…about　going　to　bed。
　　He　knew　what　he　needed　and　went　downstairs　to　get　it。
　　Louis　Albert　Creed　set　methodically　about　getting　drunk。　Downstairs　in　the　cellar　were　five　cases　of　Schlitz　Light　beer。　Louis　drank　beer；　Jud　drank　it；　Steve　Masterton　drank　it；　Missy　Dandridge　would　occasionally　have　a　beer　or　two　while　watching　the　kids　（kid；　Louis　reminded　himself；　going　down　the　cellar　stairs）。　Even　Chariton；　on　the　few　occasions　she　had　e　over　to　the　house；　preferred　a　beer…as　long　as　it　was　a　light　beer…to　a　glass　of　wine。　So　one　day　last　winter　Rachel　had　gone　out　and　bought　a　staggering　ten　cases　when　Schlitz　Light　went　on　sale　at　the　Brewer　A　&　P。　Stop　you　running　down　to　Julio's　in　Orrington　every　time　somebody　drops　in；　she　had　said。　And　you're　always　quoting　Robert　Parker　to　me；　love…any　beer　that's　in　the　refrigerator　after　the　stores　close　is　good　beer；　right？　So　drink　this　and　think　about　the　dough　you're　saving。　Last　winter。　When　things　had　been　okay。　When　things　had　been　okay。　It　was　funny；　how　quickly　and　easily　your　mind　made　that　crucial　division。
　　Louis　brought　up　a　case　of　beer　and　shoved　the　cans　into　the　fridge。　Then　he　took　one　can；　closed　the　fridge　door；　and　opened　the　beer。　Church　came　oiling　slowly　and　rustily　out　of　the　pantry　at　the　sound　of　the　refrigerator　door　and　stared　inquiringly　up　at　Louis。　The　cat　did　not　e　too　close；　Louis　had　perhaps　kicked　it　too　many　times。
　　〃Nothing　for　you；〃　he　told　the　cat。　〃You　had　your　can　of　Calo　today。　If　you　want　something　else；　go　kill　a　bird。〃
　　Church　stood　there；　looking　up　at　him。　Louis　drank　off　half　the　can　of　beer　and　felt　it　go　to　his　head　almost　at　once。
　　〃You　don't　even　eat　them；　do　you？〃　he　asked。　〃Just　killing　them　is　enough　for　you。〃
　　Church　strolled　into　the　living　room；　apparently　deciding　there　was　going　to　be　no　food；　and　after　a　moment　Louis　followed　it。
　　He　thought　again　randomly；　Hey…ho；　let's　go。
　　Louis　sat　down　in　his　chair　and　looked　at　Church　again。　The　cat　was　reclining　on　the　rug　by　the　TV　stand；　watching　Louis　carefully；　probably　ready　to　run　if　Louis　should　suddenly　bee　aggressive　and　decide　to　put　his　kicking…foot　in　gear。
　　Instead　Louis　raised　his　beer。　〃To　Gage；〃　he　said。　〃To　my　son；　who　might　have　been　an　artist　or　an　Olympic　swimmer　or　the　motherfucking　President　of　the　United　States。　What　do　you　say；　asshole？〃
　　Church　regarded　him　with　those　dull；　strange　eyes。
　　Louis　drank　off　the　rest　of　his　beer　in　big　gulps　that　hurt　his　tender　throat；　arose；　went　to　the　fridge；　and　got　a　second　one。
　　By　the　time　Louis　had　finished　three　beers；　he　felt　that　he　had　some　sort　of　equilibrium　for　the　first　time　that　day。　By　the　time　he　had　gotten　through　the　first　six…pack；　he　felt　that　sleep　might　actually　be　possible　in　another　hour　or　so。　He　came　back　from　the　fridge　with　his　eighth　or　ninth　（he　had　really　lost　count　by　then　and　was　walking　on　a　slant）；　and　his　eyes　fell　on　Church；　the　cat　was　dozing…or　pretending　to…on　the　rug　now。　The　thought　came　so　naturally　that　it　surely　must　have　been　there　all　along；　simply　waiting　its　time　to　e　forward　from　the　back　of　his　mind：
　　When　are　you　going　to　do　it？　When　are　you　going　to　bury　Gage　in　the　annex　to　the　Pet　Sematary？
　　And　on　the　heels　of　that：
　　Lazarus；　e　forth。
　　Ellie's　sleepy；　dazed　voice：
　　The　teacher　said　if　he'd　just　said　〃e　forth；〃　probably　everybody　in　that　graveyard　would　have　e　out。
　　A　chill　of　such　elemental　force　struck　him　that　Louis　clutched　himself　as　the　shudder　twisted　through　his　body。　He　suddenly　found　himself　remembering　Ellie's　first　day　of　school；　how　Gage　had　gone　to　sleep　on　his　lap　while　he　and　Rachel　were　listening　to　Ellie　prattle　on　about　〃Old　MacDonald〃　and　Mrs。　Berryman；　he　had　said　Just　let　me　put　the　baby　to　bed；　and　when　he　took　Gage　upstairs　a　horrible　premonition　had　struck　him；　and　now　he　understood：　Back　in　September　part　of　him　had　known　Gage　was　going　to　die　soon。　Part　of　him　had　known　that　Oz　the　Gweat　and　Tewwible　was　at　hand。　It　was　nonsense；　it　was　rot；　it　was　superstitious　bullshit　of　the　purest　ray　serene　。　。　。　and　it　was　true。　He　had　known。　Louis　spilled　some　of　his　beer　on　his　shirt；　and　Church　looked　up　wearily　to　see　if　this　was　a　signal　that　the　evening's　cat…kicking　festivities　were　about　to　mence。
　　Louis　suddenly　remembered　the　question　he　had　asked　Jud；　he　remembered　the　way　Jud's　arm　had　jerked；　knocking　two　empty　beer　bottles　off　the　table。　One　of　them　had　shattered。　You　don't　even　want　to　talk　about　such　things；　Louis！
　　But　he　did　want　to　talk　about　them…or　at　least　think　about　them。　The　Pet　Sematary。　What　was　beyond　the　Pet　Sematary。　The　idea　had　a　deadly　attraction。　It　made　a　balance　of　logic　which　was　impossible　to　deny。　Church　had　been　killed　in　the　road；　Gage　had　been　killed　in　the　road。　Here　was　Church…　changed　of　course；　distasteful　in　some　ways…but　here。　Ellie；　Gage；　and　Rachel　all　had　a　working　relationship　with　him。　He　killed　birds；　true；　and　had　turned　a　few　mice　inside　out；　but　killing　small　animals　was　a　cat　thing　to　do。　Church　had　by　no　means　turned　into　Frankencat。　He　was；　in　many　ways；　as　good　as　ever。
　　You're　rationalizing；　a　voice　whispered。　He's　not　as　good　as　ever。　He's　spooky。　The　crow；　Louis。　。　。　remember　the　crow？
　　〃Good　God；〃　Louis　said　aloud　in　a　shaky；　distracted　voice　he　was　barely　able　to　recognize　as　his　own。
　　God；　oh　yes；　fine；　sure。　If　there　had　ever　been　a　time　to　invoke　the　name　of　God　outside　of　a　novel　about　ghosts　or　vampires；　this　was　it。　So　just　what…what　in　the　name　of　God…was　he　thinking　about？　He　was　thinking　about　a　dark　blasphemy　which　he　was　even　now　not　wholly　able　to　credit。　Worse；　he　was　telling　himself　lies。　Not　just　rationalizing；　but　outright　lying。
　　So　what's　the　truth？　You　want　the　truth　so　fucking　bad；　what's　the　truth？
　　That　Church　wasn't　really　a　cat　anymore　at　all…start　with　that。　He　looked　like　a　cat；　and　he　acted　like　a　cat；　but　he　was　really　only　a　poor　imitation。　People　couldn't　actually　see　through　that　imitation；　but　they　could　feel　through　it。　He　remembered　a　night　when　Chariton　had　been　at　the　house。　The　occasion　had　been　a　small　pre…Christmas　dinner　party。　They'd　been　sitting　in　here；　talking　after　the　meal；　and　Church　had　jumped　up　in　her　lap。　Chariton　had　pushed　the　cat　off　immediately；　a　quick　and　instinctive　moue　of　distaste　puckering　her　mouth。
　　It　had　been　no　big　deal。　No　one　had　even　mented　on　it。　But　。　。　。　it　was　there。　Chariton　had　felt　what　the　cat　wasn't。　Louis　killed　his　beer　and　went　back　for　another。　If　Gage　came　back　changed　in　such　a　way；　that　would　be　an　obscenity。
　　He　popped　the　top　and　drank　deeply。　He　was　drunk　now；　drunk　for　fair；　and　there　would　be　a　big　head　for　him　to　deal　with　tomorrow。　How　I　Went　to　My　Son's　Funeral　with　a　Han　gover　by　Louis　Creed；　author　of　How　I　Just　Missed　Him　at　the　Crucial　Moment　and　numerous　other　works。
　　Drunk。　Sure。　And　he　suspected　now　that　the　reason　he　had　gotten　drunk　was　so　he　could　consider　this　crazy　idea　soberly。
　　In　spite　of　everything；　the　idea　had　that　deadly　attraction；　that　sick　luster；　that　glamour。　Yes；　that　above　all　else…it　had　glamour。
　　Jud　was　back；　speaking　in　his　mind：
　　You　do　it　because　it　gets　hold　of　you。　You　do　it　because　that　burial　place　is　a　secret　place；　and　you　want　to　share　the　secret　you　make　up　reasons。　。　。　they　seem　like　good　reasons　but　mostly　you　do　it　because　you　want　to。　Or　because　you　have　to。
　　Jud's　voice；　low　and　drawling　with　Yankee　intonation；　Jud's　voice　chilling　his　flesh；　bringing　out　the　goosebumps；　making　the　hackles　on　the　back　of　his　neck　rise。
　　These　are　secret　things；　Louis　。　。　。　the　soil　of　a　man's　heart　is　stonier。　。　。　like　the　soil　up　in　the　old　Micmac　burying　ground。　A　man　grows　what　he　can。　。　。　and　he　tends　it。
　　Louis