sk.petsematary-第55章

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　　〃Mommy；　are　you　all…〃
　　〃Did　the　man　in　your　dream　tell　you　his　first　name？〃
　　Dory　was　looking　at　her　daughter　and　granddaughter　as　if　they　might　have　both　gone　crazy。
　　〃Yes；　but　I　can't　remember　。　。　。　Mommy；　you're　hurrrrting　me…〃
　　Rachel　looked　down　and　saw　that　her　free　hand　was　clamped　around　Ellie's　lower　forearm　like　a　manacle。
　　〃Was　it　Victor？〃
　　Ellie　drew　sharp　breath。　〃Yes；　Victor！　He　said　his　name　was　Victor！　Mommy；　did　you　dream　of　him　too？〃
　　〃Not　Paxcow；〃　Rachel　said。　〃Pascow。〃
　　〃That's　what　I　said。　Paxcow。〃
　　〃Rachel；　what's　wrong？〃　Dory　said。　She　took　Rachel's　free　hand　and　winced　at　its　chill。　〃And　what's　wrong　with　Eileen？〃
　　〃It's　not　Eileen；〃　Rachel　said。　〃It's　Louis；　I　think。　Something　is　wrong　with　Louis。　Or　something　is　going　to　be　wrong。　Sit　with　Ellie；　Mom。　I　want　to　call　home。〃
　　She　got　up　and　crossed　to　the　telephones；　digging　in　her　purse　for　a　quarter。　She　made　the　call　collect；　but　there　was　no　one　to　accept　the　charges。　The　phone　simply　rang。
　　〃Will　you　try　your　call　later？〃　the　operator　asked　her。
　　〃Yes；〃　Rachel　said　and　hung　up。
　　She　stood　there；　staring　at　the　phone。
　　He　said　that　he　was　sent　to　warn　but　that　he　couldn't　interfere。　He　said　that　he　was。　。　。　that　he　was　near　Daddy　because　they　were　together　when　his　soul　was　dis…dis…I　can't　remember！
　　〃Discorporated；〃　Rachel　whispered。　Her　fingers　dug　at　the　fabric　of　her　handbag。　〃Oh　my　God；　was　that　the　word？〃
　　She　tried　to　catch　at　her　thoughts；　to　arrange　them。　Was　something　going　on　here；　something　beyond　their　natural　upset　at　Gage's　death　and　this　queer　cross…country　trip　that　was　so　much　like　flight？　How　much　had　Ellie　known　about　the　young　man　who　had　died　on　Louis's　first　day　at　work？
　　Nothing；　her　mind　answered　inexorably。　You　kept　it　from　her；　the　way　you　tried　to　keep　anything　from　her　that　had　to　do　with　death…even　the　possible　death　of　her　cat；　remember　the　dumb；　stupid　argument　we　had　that　day　in　the　pantry？　You　kept　it　from　her。　Because　you　were　scared　then　and　you're　scared　now。　His　name　was　Pascow；　Victor　Pascow；　and　how　desperate　is　the　situation　now；　Rachel？　How　bad　is　this？　What　in　the　name　of　God　is　happening？
　　Her　hands　were　trembling　so　badly　that　it　took　her　two　tries　to　redeposit　her　quarter。　This　time　she　called　the　infirmary　at　the　university　and　got　Chariton；　who　accepted　the　call；　a　little　mystified。　No；　she　hadn't　seen　Louis　and　would　have　been　surprised　if　he　had　e　in　today。　That　said；　she　offered　her　sympathies　to　Rachel　again。　Rachel　accepted　them　and　then　asked　Chariton　to　have　Louis　call　her　at　her　folks'　house　if　he　did　e　in。　Yes；　he　had　the　number；　she　answered　Charlton's　question；　not　wanting　to　tell　the　nurse　（who　probably　knew　anyway；　she　had　a　feeling　that　Chariton　didn't　miss　much）　that　her　folks'　house　was　half　the　continent　away。
　　She　hung　up；　feeling　hot　and　trembly。
　　She　heard　Pascow's　name　somewhere　else；　that's　all。　My　God；　you　don't　raise　a　kid　in　a　glass　box　like　a。　。　。　a　hamster　or　something。　She　heard　an　item　about　it　on　the　radio。　Or　some　kid　mentioned　it　to　her　at　school；　and　her　mind　stored　it　away。　Even　that　word　she　couldn't　say…suppose　it　was　a　jawbreaker　like　〃discorporated〃　or　〃discorporeal；〃　so　what？　That　proves　nothing　except　that　the　subconscious　is　exactly　the　kind　of　sticky　flypaper　the　Sunday　supplements　say　it　is。
　　She　remembered　a　college　psych　instructor　who　had　asserted　that　under　the　right　conditions；　your　memory　could　play　back　the　names　of　every　person　to　whom　you　had　ever　been　introduced；　every　meal　you　had　ever　eaten；　the　weather　conditions　which　had　obtained　on　every　day　of　your　life。　He　made　a　persuasive　case　for　this　incredible　assertion；　telling　them　that　the　human　mind　was　a　puter　with　staggering　numbers　of　memory　chips…not　i6K；　or　32K；　or　64K；　but　perhaps　as　much　as　one　billion　K：　literally；　a　thousand　billion。　And　how　much　might　each　of　these　organic　〃chips〃　be　capable　of　storing？　No　one　knew。　But　there　were　so　many　of　them；　he　said；　that　there　was　no　need　for　any　of　them　to　be　erasable　so　they　could　be　re…used。　In　fact　the　conscious　mind　had　to　turn　down　the　lights　on　some　of　them　as　a　protection　against　informational　insanity。　〃You　might　not　be　able　to　remember　where　you　keep　your　socks；〃　the　psych　instructor　had　said；　〃if　the　entire　contents　of　the　Encyclopedia　Britannica　was　stored　in　the　adjacent　two　or　three　memory　cells。〃
　　This　had　produced　dutiful　laughter　from　the　class。
　　But　this　isn't　a　psych　class　under　good　fluorescent　lights　with　all　that　forting　jargon　written　on　the　board　and　some　smartass　assistant　prof　cheerfully　blueskying　his　way　through　the　last　fifteen　minutes　of　the　period。　Something　is　dreadfully　wrong　here　and　you　know　it…you　feel　it。　I　don't　know　what　it　has　to　do　with　Pascow；　or　Gage；　or　Church；　but　it　has　something　to　do　with　Louis。　What？　Is　it…　Suddenly　a　thought　as　cold　as　a　handful　of　jelly　struck　her。　She　picked　up　the　telephone　receiver　again　and　groped　in　the　coin…return　for　her　dime。　Was　Louis　contemplating　suicide？　Was　that　why　he　had　gotten　rid　of　them；　nearly　pushed　them　out　the　door？　Had　Ellie　somehow　had　a。　。　。　a。　。　。　oh；　fuck　psychology！　Had　she　had　a　psychic　flash　of　some　sort？
　　This　time　she　made　the　call　collect　to　Jud　Crandall。　It　rang　five　times　。　。　。　six　。　。　。　seven。　She　was　about　to　hang　up　when　his　voice；　breathless；　answered。　〃H'lo？〃
　　〃Jud！　Jud；　this　is…〃
　　〃Just　a　minute；　ma'axn；〃　the　operator　said。　〃Will　you　accept　a　collect　call　from　Mrs。　Louis　Creed？〃
　　〃Ayuh；〃　Jud　said。
　　〃Pardon；　sir；　is　that　yes　or　no？〃
　　〃I　guess　I　will；〃　Jud　said。
　　There　was　a　doubtful　pause　as　the　operator　translated　Yankee　into　American。　Then：　〃Thank　you。　Go　ahead；　ma'am。〃
　　〃Jud；　have　you　seen　Louis　today？〃
　　〃Today？　I　can't　say　I　have；　Rachel。　But　I　was　away　to　Brewer　this　mornin；　gettin　my　groceries。　Been　out　in　the　garden　this　afternoon；　behind　the　house。　Why？〃
　　〃Oh；　it's　probably　nothing；　but　Ellie　had　a　bad　dream　on　the　plane　and　I　just　thought　I'd　set　her　mind　at　ease　if　I　could。〃
　　〃Plane？〃　Jud's　voice　seemed　to　sharpen　a　trifle。　〃Where　are　you；　Rachel？〃
　　〃Chicago；〃　she　said。　〃Ellie　and　I　came　back　to　spend　some　time　with　my　parents。〃
　　〃Louis　didn't　go　with　you？〃
　　〃He's　going　to　join　us　by　the　end　of　the　week；〃　Rachel　said；　and　now　it　was　a　struggle　to　keep　her　voice　even。　There　was　something　in　Jud's　voice　she　didn't　like。
　　〃Was　it　his　idea　that　you　should　go　out　there？〃
　　〃Well。　。　。　yes。　Jud；　what's　wrong？　Something　is　wrong；　isn't　it？　And　you　know　something　about　it。〃
　　〃Maybe　you　ought　to　tell　me　the　child's　dream；〃　Jud　said　after　a　long　pause。　〃I　wish　you　would。〃
　　　46
　　After　he　and　Rachel　were　done　talking；　Jud　put　on　his　light　coat
　　…the　day　had　clouded　up　and　the　wind　had　begun　to　blow…and　crossed　the　road　to　Louis's　house；　pausing　on　his　side　of　the　road　to　look　carefully　for　trucks　before　crossing。　It　was　the　trucks　that　had　been　the　cause　of　all　this。　The　damned　trucks。
　　Except　it　wasn't。
　　He　could　feel　the　Pet　Sematary　pulling　at　him…and　something　beyond。　Where　once　its　voice　had　been　a　kind　of　seductive　lullabye；　the　voice　of　possible　fort　and　a　dreamy　sort　of　power；　it　was　now　lower　and　more　than　ominous…it　was　threatening　and　grim。　Stay　out　of　this；　you。
　　But　he　would　not　stay　out　of　it。　His　responsibility　went　back　too　far。
　　He　saw　that　Louis's　Honda　Civic　was　gone　from　the　garage。　There　was　only　the　big　Ford　wagon；　looking　dusty　and　unused。　He　tried　the　back　door　of　the　house　and　found　it　open。
　　〃Louis？〃　he　called；　knowing　that　Louis　was　not　going　to　answer；　but　needing　to　cut　across　the　heavy　silence　of　this　house　somehow。　Oh；　getting　old　was　starting　to　be　a　pain　in　the　ass…his　limbs　felt　heavy　and　clumsy　most　of　the　time；　his　back　was　a　misery　to　him　after　a　mere　two　hours　in　the　garden；　and　it　felt　as　if　there　was　a　screw　auger　planted　in　his　left　hip。
　　He　began　to　go　through　the　house　methodically；　looking　for　the　signs　he　had　to　look　for…world's　oldest　housebreaker；　he　thought　without　much　humor　and　went　right　on　looking。　He　found　none　of　the　things　that　would　have　seriously　upset　him：　boxes　of　toys　held　back　from　the　Salvation　Army；　clothes　for　a　small　boy　put　aside　behind　a　door　or　in　the　closet　or　under　a　bed　perhaps　worst　of　all；　the　crib　carefully　set　up　in　Gage's　room　again。　There　were　absolutely　none　of　the　signs；　but　the　house　still　had　an　unpleasant　blank　feel；　as　if　it　were　waiting　to　be　filled　with。　。　。　well；　something。
　　P'raps　I　ought　to　take　a　little　run　out　to　Pleasantview　Cemetery。　See　if　anything's　doing　out　there。　Might　even　run　into　Louis　Creed。　I　could　buy　him　a　dinner；　or　somethin。
　　But　it　wasn't　at　Pleasantview　Cemetery　in　Bangor　that　there　was　danger；　the　danger　was　here；　in　this　house；　and　beyond　it。
　　Jud　left　again　and　crossed　the　road　to　his　own　house。　He　pulled　a　six…pack　of　beer　out　of　the　kitchen　fridge　and　took　it　into　the　living　room。　He　sat　down　in　front　of　the　bay　window　that　looked　out　on　the　Creed　house；　cracked　a　beer；　and　lit　a　cigarette。　The　afternoon　drew　down　around　him；　and　as　it　did　so　often　these　last　few　years；　he　found　his　mind　turning　back　and　back　in　a　widening　gyre。　If　he　had　known　the　run　of　Rachel　Creed's　earlier　thoughts　he　could　have　told　her　that　what　her　psych　teacher　had　told　her　was　maybe　the　truth；　but　when　you　got　older　that　dimming　function　of　the　memory　broke　down　little　by　little；　the　same　way　that　everything　else　in　your　body　broke　down；　and　you　found　yourself　recalling　places　and　faces　and　events　with　an　eerie　surety。　Sepia…toned　memories　grew　bright　again；　the　colors　trueing　up；　the　voices　losing　that　tinny　echo　of　time　and　regaining　their　original　resonance。　It　wasn't　informational　breakdown　at　all；　Jud　could　have　told　him。　The　name　for　it　was　senility。
　　In　his　mind　Jud　again　saw　Lester　Morgan's　bull　Hanratty；　his　eyes　rimmed　with　red；　charging　at　everything　in　sight；　everything　that　moved。　Charging　at　trees　when　the　wind　jigged　the　leaves。　Before　Lester　gave　up　and　called　it　off；　every　tree　in　Hanratty's　fenced　meadow　was　gored　with　his　brainless　fury　and　his　horns　were　splintered　and　his　head　was　bleeding。　When　Lester　put　Hanratty　down；　Lester　had　been　sick　with　dread…the　way　Jud　himself　was　right　now。
　　He　drank　beer　and　smoked。　Daylight　faded。　He　did　not　put　on　the　light。　Gradually　the　tip　of　his　cigarette　became　a　small　red　pip　in　the　darkness。　He　sat　and　drank　beer　and　watched　Louis　Creed's　driveway。　He　believed　that　when　Louis　came　home　from　wherever　he　was；　he　would　go　over　and　have　a　little　talk　with　him。　Make　sure　Louis　wasn't　planning　to　do　anything　he　shouldn't。
　　And　still　he　felt　the　soft　tug　of　whatever　it　was；　whatever　sick　power　it　was　that　inhabited　that　devil's　place；　reaching　down　from　its　bluff　of　rotted　stone　where　all　those　cairns　had　been　built。
　　Stay　out　of　this；　you。　Stay　out　of　it　or　you're　going　to　be　very；　very　sorry。
　　Ignoring　it　as　best　he　could；　Jud　sat　and　smoked　and　drank　beer。　And　waited。
　　　47
　　While　Jud　Crandall　was　sitting　in　the　ladderbacked　rocker　and　watching　for　him　out　of　his　bay　window；　Louis　was　eating　a　big　tasteless　dinner　in　the　Howard　Johnson's　dining　room。
　　The　food　was　plentiful　and　dull…exa