sk.petsematary-第61章

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　　He　got　to　his　Honda；　leaned　the　pick　and　shovel　against　the　side；　and　fumbled　for　his　keys。　They　weren't　there；　not　in　either　pocket。　Fresh　sweat　began　to　break　on　his　face。　His　heart　began　to　run　again；　and　his　teeth　were　clenched　together　against　the　panic　that　wanted　to　leap　free。
　　He　had　lost　them；　most　likely　when　he　had　dropped　from　the　tree　limb；　hit　the　grave　marker　with　his　knee；　and　rolled　over。　His　keys　were　lying　somewhere　in　the　grass；　and　if　he　had　had　trouble　finding　his　flashlight；　how　could　he　hope　to　recover　his　keys？　It　was　over。　One　piece　of　bad　luck　and　it　was　over。
　　Now　wait；　wait　just　a　goddam　minute。　Go　through　your　pockets　again。　Your　change　is　there…and　if　your　change　didn't　fall　out；　your　keys　didn't　fall　out　either。
　　This　time　he　went　through　his　pockets　more　slowly；　removing　the　change；　even　turning　the　pockets　themselves　inside　out。
　　No　keys。
　　Louis　leaned　against　the　car；　wondering　what　to　do　next。　He　would　have　to　climb　back　in；　he　supposed。　Leave　his　son　where　he　was；　take　the　flashlight；　climb　back　in；　and　spend　the　rest　of　the　night　in　a　fruitless　hunt　for…　Light　suddenly　broke　in　his　tired　mind。
　　He　bent　down　and　stared　into　the　Civic。　There　were　his　keys　dangling　from　the　ignition　switch。
　　A　soft　grunt　escaped　him；　and　then　he　ran　around　to　the　driver's　side；　snatched　the　door　open；　and　took　the　keys　out。　In　his　mind　he　suddenly　heard　the　authoritative　voice　of　that　grim　father　figure　Karl　Malden；　he　of　the　potato　nose　and　the　archaic　snap…brim　hat：　Lock　your　car。　Take　your　keys。　Don't　help　a　good　boy　go　bad。
　　He　went　around　to　the　rear　of　the　Civic　and　opened　the　hatchback。　He　put　in　the　pick；　shovel；　and　flashlight；　then　slammed　it。　He　had　gotten　twenty　or　thirty　feet　down　the　sidewalk　when　he　remembered　his　keys。　This　time　he　had　left　them　dangling　from　the　hatchback　lock。
　　Stupid！　he　railed　at　himself。　If　you're　going　to　be　so　goddam　stupid；　you　better　forget　the　whole　thing！
　　He　went　back　and　got　his　keys。
　　He　had　gotten　Gage　in　his　arms　and　was　most　of　the　way　back　to　Mason　Street　when　a　dog　began　to　bark　somewhere。　No…it　didn't　just　begin　to　bark。　It　began　to　howl；　its　gruff　voice　filling　the　street。　Auggggh…R0000！　Auggggh…R000000！
　　He　stood　behind　one　of　the　trees；　wondering　what　could　possibly　happen　next；　wondering　what　to　do　next。　He　stood　there　expecting　lights　to　start　going　on　all　up　and　down　the　street。
　　In　fact　only　one　light　did　go　on；　at　the　side　of　a　house　just　opposite　where　Louis　stood　in　the　shadows。　A　moment　later　a　hoarse　voice　cried；　〃Shut　up；　Fred！〃
　　Auggggh…R000000！　Fred　responded。
　　〃Shut　him　up；　Scanlon；　or　I'm　calling　the　police！〃　someone　yelled　from　the　side　of　the　street　Louis　was　on；　making　him　jump；　making　him　realize　just　how　false　the　illusion　of　emptiness　and　desertion　was。　There　were　people　all　around　him；　hundreds　of　eyes；　and　that　dog　was　attacking　sleep；　his　only　friend。　Goddam　you；　Fred；　he　thought。　Oh；　goddam　you。
　　Fred　began　another　chorus；　he　got　well　into　the　Auggggh；　but　before　he　could　do　more　than　get　started　on　a　good　solid　R000000；　there　was　a　hard　whacking　sound　followed　by　a　series　of　low　whimpers　and　yips。
　　Silence　followed　by　the　faint　slam　of　a　door。　The　light　at　the　side　of　Fred's　house　stayed　on　for　a　moment；　then　clicked　off。
　　Louis　felt　strongly　inclined　to　stay　in　the　shadows；　to　wait；　surely　it　would　be　better　to　wait　until　the　ruckus　had　died　down。　But　time　was　getting　away　from　him。
　　He　crossed　the　street　with　his　bundle　and　walked　back　down　to　the　Civic；　seeing　no　one　at　all。　Fred　held　his　peace。　He　clutched　his　bundle　in　one　hand；　got　his　keys；　opened　the　hatchback。
　　Gage　would　not　fit。
　　Louis　tried　the　bundle　vertically；　then　horizontally；　then　diagonally。　The　Civic's　back　partment　was　too　small。　He　could　have　bent　and　crushed　the　bundle　in　there…Gage　would　not　have　minded…but　Louis　could　simply　not　bring　himself　to　do　it。
　　e　on；　e　on；　e　on；　let's　get　out　of　here；　let's　not　push　it　any　further。
　　But　lie　stood；　nonplussed；　out　of　ideas；　the　bundle　containing　his　son's　corpse　in　his　arms。　Then　he　heard　the　sound　of　an　approaching　car；　and　without　really　thinking　at　all；　he　took　the　bundle　around　to　the　passenger　side；　opened　the　door；　and　slipped　the　bundle　into　the　seat。
　　He　shut　the　door；　ran　around　to　the　rear　of　the　Civic；　and　slammed　the　hatchback。　The　car　went　right　through　the　intersection；　and　Louis　heard　the　whoop　of　drunken　voices。　He　got　behind　the　wheel；　started　his　car；　and　was　reaching　for　the　headlight　switch　when　a　horrible　thought　struck　him。　What　if　Gage　were　facing　backward；　sitting　there　with　those　joints　at　knee　and　hip　bending　the　wrong　way；　his　sunken　eyes　looking　toward　the　rear　window　instead　of　out　through　the　windshield？
　　It　doesn't　matter；　his　mind　responded　with　a　shrill　fury　born　of　exhaustion。　Will　you　get　that　through　your　head？　it　just　doesn't　matter！
　　But　it　does。　it　does　matter。　It's　Gage　in　there；　not　a　bundle　of　towels！
　　He　reached　over　and　gently　began　to　press　his　hands　against　the　canvas　tarpaulin；　feeling　for　the　contours　underneath。　He　looked　like　a　blind　man　trying　to　determine　what　a　specific　object　might　be。　At　last　he　came　upon　a　protuberance　that　could　only　be　Gage's　nose…facing　in　the　right　direction。
　　Only　then　could　he　bring　himself　to　put　the　Civic　in　gear　and　start　the　twenty…five　minute　drive　back　to　Ludlow。
　　　52
　　At　one　o'clock　that　morning；　Jud　Crandall's　telephone　rang；　shrilling　in　the　empty　house；　starting　him　awake。　In　his　doze　he　was　dreaming；　and　in　the　dream　he　was　twenty…three　again；　sitting　on　a　bench　in　the　B　&　A　coupling　shed　with　George　Chapin　and　René　Michaud；　the　three　of　them　passing　around　a　bottle　of　Georgia　Charger　whiskey…jumped…up　moonshine　with　a　revenue　stamp　on　it…while　outside　a　nor'easter　blew　its　randy　shriek　over　the　world；　silencing　all　that　moved；　including　the　rolling　stock　of　the　B　&　A　railroad。　So　they　sat　and　drank　around　the　potbellied　Defiant；　watching　the　red　glow　of　the　coals　shift　and　change　behind　the　cloudy　isinglass；　casting　diamond…shaped　flame　shadows　across　the　floor；　telling　the　stories　which　men　hold　inside　for　years　like　the　junk　treasures　boys　store　under　their　beds；　the　stories　they　store　up　for　nights　such　as　this。　Like　the　glow　of　the　Defiant；　these　were　dark　stories　with　a　glow　of　red　at　the　center　of　each　and　the　wind　to　wrap　them　around。　He　was　twenty…three；　and　Norma　was　very　much　alive　（although　in　bed　now；　he　had　no　doubt；　she　would　not　expect　him　home　this　wild　night）；　and
　　René　Michaud　was　telling　a　story　about　a　Jew　peddler　in　Bucks…port　who…　That　was　when　the　phone　began　to　ring　and　he　jerked　up　in　his　chair；　wincing　at　the　stiffness　in　his　neck；　feeling　a　sour　heaviness　drop　into　him　like　a　stone…it　was；　he　thought；　all　those　years　between　twenty…three　and　eighty…three；　all　sixty　of　them；　dropping　into　him　at　once。　And　on　the　heels　of　that　thought：　You　been　sleepin；　boyo。　That's　no　way　to　run　this　railroad。　。　。　not　tonight。
　　He　got　up；　holding　himself　straight　against　the　stiffness　that　had　also　settled　into　his　back；　and　crossed　to　the　phone。
　　It　was　Rachel。
　　〃Jud？　Has　he　e　home？〃
　　〃No；〃　Jud　said。　〃Rachel；　where　are　you？　You　sound　closer。〃
　　〃I　am　closer；〃　Rachel　said。　And　although　she　did　sound　closer　somehow；　there　was　a　distant　humming　on　the　wire。　It　was　the　sound　of　the　wind；　somewhere　between　here　and　wherever　she　was。　The　wind　was　high　tonight。　That　sound　that　always　made　Jud　think　of　dead　voices；　sighing　in　chorus；　maybe　singing　something　just　a　little　too　far　away　to　be　made　out。　〃I'm　at　the　rest　area　at　Biddeford　on　the　Maine　Turnpike。〃
　　〃Biddeford！〃
　　〃I　couldn't　stay　in　Chicago。　It　was　getting　to　me；　too　whatever　it　was　that　got　Ellie；　it　was　getting　me　too。　And　you　feel　it。　It's　in　your　voice。〃
　　〃Ayuh。〃　He　picked　a　Chesterfield　out　of　his　pack　and　slipped　it　into　the　corner　of　his　mouth。　He　popped　a　wooden　match　alight　and　watched　it　flicker　as　his　hand　trembled。　His　hands　hadn't　trembled…not　before　this　nightmare　had　menced　anyway。　Outside；　he　heard　that　dark　wind　gust。　It　took　the　house　in　its　hand　and　shook　it。
　　Power's　growing。　I　can　feel　it。
　　Dim　terror　in　his　old　bones。　It　was　like　spun　glass；　fine　and　fragile。
　　〃Jud；　please　tell　me　what's　going　on！〃
　　He　supposed　she　had　a　right　to　know…a　need　to　know。　And　he　supposed　he　would　tell　her。　Eventually　he　would　tell　her　the　whole　story。　He　would　show　her　the　chain　that　had　been　forged　link　by　link。　Norma's　heart　attack；　the　death　of　the　cat；　Louis's　question…has　anyone　ever　buried　a　person　up　there？…Cage's　death。　。　。　and　God　alone　knew　what　further　link　Louis　might　be　forging　right　now。　Eventually　he　would　tell　her。　But　not　over　the　phone。
　　〃Rachel；　how　e　you　to　be　on　the　turnpike　instead　of　in　a　plane？〃
　　She　explained　how　she　had　missed　her　connecting　flight　at　Boston。　〃I　got　an　Avis　car；　but　I'm　not　making　the　time　I　thought　I　would。　I　got　a　little　bit　lost　corning　from　Logan　to　the　turnpike；　and　I've　only　got　into　Maine。　I　don't　think　I　can　get　there　until　dawn。　But　Jud。　。　。　please。　Please　tell　me　what's　happening。　I'm　so　scared；　and　I　don't　even　know　why。〃
　　〃Rachel；　listen　to　me；〃　Jud　said；　〃you　drive　on　up　to　Portland　and　lay　over；　do　you　hear　me？　Check　into　a　motel　there　and　get　some…〃
　　〃Jud；　I　can't　do　th…。〃
　　〃…and　get　some　sleep。　Feel　no　fret；　Rachel。　Something　may　be　happening　here　tonight；　or　something　may　not。　If　something　is…if　it's　what　I　think…then　you　wouldn't　want　to　be　here　anyway。　I　can　take　care　of　it；　I　think。　I　better　be　able　to　take　care　of　it　because　what's　happening　is　my　fault。　If　nothing's　happening；　then　you　get　here　this　afternoon；　and　that　will　be　fine。　I　imagine　Louis　will　be　real　glad　to　see　you。〃
　　〃I　couldn't　sleep　tonight；　Jud。〃
　　〃Yes；〃　he　said；　reflecting　that　he　had　believed　the　same　thing…　hell；　Peter　had　probably　believed　the　same　thing　on　the　night　Jesus　had　been　taken　into　custody。　Sleeping　on　sentry　duty。　〃Yes；　you　can。　Rachel；　if　you　doze　off　behind　the　wheel　of　that　damn　rent…a…car　and　go　off　the　road　and　get　yourself　killed；　what's　going　to　happen　to　Louis　then？　And　Ellie？〃
　　〃Tell　me　what's　going　on！　If　you　tell　me　that；　Jud；　maybe　I'll　take　your　advice。　But　I　have　to　know！〃
　　〃When　you　get　to　Ludlow；　I　want　you　to　e　here；〃　Jud　said。　〃Not　over　to　your　house。　e　here　first。　I'll　tell　you　everything　I　know；　Rachel。　And　I　am　watching　for　Louis。〃
　　〃Tell　me；〃　she　said。
　　〃No；　ma'am。　Not　over　the　phone。　I　won't。　Rachel；　I　can't。　You　go　on　now。　Drive　up　to　Portland　and　lay　over。〃
　　There　was　a　long；　considering　pause。
　　〃All　right；〃　she　said　at　last。　〃Maybe　you're　right。　Jud；　tell　me　one　thing。　Tell　me　how　bad　it　is。〃
　　〃I　can　handle　it；〃　Jud　said　calmly。　〃Things　have　got　as　bad　as　they're　going　to　get。〃
　　Outside　the　headlights　of　a　car　appeared；　moving　slowly。　Jud　hall…stood；　watching　it；　and　then　sat　down　again　when　it　accelerated　past　the　Creed　house　and　out　of　sight。
　　〃All　right；〃　she　said。　〃I　guess。　The　rest　of　this　drive　has　seemed　like　a　stone　on　my　head。〃
　　〃Let　the　stone　roll　off；　my　dear；〃　Jud　said。　〃Please。　Save　yourself　for　tomorrow。　Things　here　will　be　all　right。〃
　　〃You　promise　you'll