sk.petsematary-第67章

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　　So　she　could　be　held　up　just　long　enough　for。
　　She　laughed　nervously。　Long　enough　for　what？
　　For　something　irrevocable　to　happen。
　　That　was　stupid。　Ridiculous。　But　Rachel　began　to　push　the　little　car　along　faster　nonetheless。
　　At　five　o'clock；　as　Jud　was　trying　to　ward　off　a　scalpel　stolen　from　the　black　bag　of　his　good　friend　Dr。　Louis　Creed；　and　as　her　daughter　was　awakening　bolt…upright　in　bed；　screaming　in　the　grip　of　a　nightmare　which　she　could　mercifully　not　remember；　Rachel　left　the　turnpike；　drove　the　Hammond　Street　Cutoff　close　to　the　cemetery　where　a　spade　was　now　the　only　thing　buried　in　her　son's　coffin；　and　crossed　the　Bangor…Brewer　Bridge。　By　quarter　past　five；　she　was　on　Route　15　and　headed　for　Ludlow。
　　She　had　decided　to　go　directly　to　Jud's；　she　would　make　good　on　at　least　that　much　of　her　promise。　The　Civic　was　not　in　their　driveway；　anyway；　and　although　she　supposed　it　might　be　in　the　garage；　their　house　had　a　sleeping；　unoccupied　look。　No　intuition　suggested　to　her　that　Louis　might　be　home。
　　Rachel　parked　behind　Jud's　pickup　and　got　out　of　the　Chevette；　looking　around　carefully。　The　grass　was　heavy　with　dew；　sparkling　in　this　clear；　new　light。　Somewhere　a　bird　sang　and　then　was　silent。　On　the　few　occasions　since　her　preteenage　years　when　she　had　been　awake　and　alone　at　dawn　without　some　responsibility　to　fulfill　as　the　reason；　she　had　a　lonely　but　somehow　uplifted　feeling…a　paradoxical　sense　of　newness　and　continuity。　This　morning　she　felt　nothing　so　clean　and　good。　There　was　only　a　dragging　sense　of　unease　which　she　could　not　entirely　charge　off　to　the　terrible　twenty…four　hours　just　gone　by　and　her　recent　bereavement。
　　She　mounted　the　porch　steps　and　opened　the　screen　door；　meaning　to　use　the　old…fashioned　bell　on　the　front　door。　She　had　been　charmed　by　that　bell　the　first　time　she　and　Louis　came　over　together；　you　twisted　it　clockwise；　and　it　uttered　a　loud　but　musical　cry　that　was　anachronistic　and　delightful。
　　She　reached　for　it　now；　then　glanced　down　at　the　porch　floor　and　frowned。　There　were　muddy　tracks　on　the　mat。　Looking　around；　she　saw　that　they　led　from　the　screen　door　to　this　one。　Very　small　tracks。　A　child's　tracks；　by　the　look　of　them。　But　she　had　been　driving　all　night；　and　there　had　been　no　rain。　Wind；　but　no　rain。
　　She　looked　at　the　tracks　for　a　long　time…too　long；　really…and　discovered　she　had　to　force　her　hand　back　to　the　turn　bell。　She　grasped　it。　。　。　and　then　her　hand　fell　away　again。
　　I'm　anticipating；　that's　all。　Anticipating　the　sound　of　that　bell　in　this　stillness。　He's　probably　gone　to　sleep　after　all　and　it　will　startle　him　awake。
　　But　that　wasn't　what　she　was　afraid　of。　She　had　been　nervous；　scared　in　some　deep　and　diffuse　way　ever　since　she　had　found　it　so　hard　to　stay　awake；　but　this　sharp　fear　was　something　new；　something　which　had　solely　to　do　with　those　small　tracks。　Tracks　that　were　the　size…　Her　mind　tried　to　block　this　thought；　but　it　was　too　tired；　too　slow。
　　…of　Gage's　feet。
　　Oh　stop　it；　can't　you　stop　it？
　　She　reached　out　and　twisted　the　bell。
　　Its　sound　was　even　louder　than　she　remembered；　but　not　so　musical…it　was　a　harsh；　choked　scream　in　the　stillness。　Rachel　jumped　back；　uttering　a　nervous　little　laugh　that　had　absolutely　no　humor　in　it　at　all。　She　waited　for　Jud's　footsteps；　but　his　footsteps　did　not　e。　There　was　silence；　and　more　silence；　and　she　was　beginning　to　debate　in　her　own　mind　whether　or　not　she　could　bring　herself　to　twist　that　iron…butterfly　shape　again；　when　a　sound　did　e　from　behind　the　door；　a　sound　she　would　not　have　expected　in　her　wildest　surmises。
　　Waowf　。　。　。　Waow！　。　。　。　Waow！
　　〃Church？〃　she　asked；　startled　and　puzzled。　She　bent　forward；　but　it　was　of　course　impossible　to　see　in；　the　door's　glass　panel　had　been　covered　with　a　neat　white　curtain。　Norma's　work。　〃Church；　is　that　you？〃
　　Waow！
　　Rachel　tried　the　door。　It　was　unlocked。　Church　was　there；　sitting　in　the　hallway　with　its　tail　coiled　neatly　around　its　feet。　The　cat's　fur　was　streaked　with　something　dark。　Mud；　Rachel　thought；　and　then　saw　that　the　beads　of　liquid　caught　in　Church's　whiskers　were　red。
　　He　raised　one　paw　and　began　to　lick　it；　his　eyes　never　leaving　her　face。
　　〃Jud？〃　she　called　out；　really　alarmed　now。　She　stepped　just　inside　the　door。
　　The　house　gave　back　no　answer；　only　silence。
　　Rachel　tried　to　think；　but　all　at　once　images　of　her　sister　Zelda　had　begun　to　creep　into　her　mind；　blurring　thought。　How　her　hands　had　twisted。　How　she　used　to　slam　her　head　against　the　wall　sometimes　when　she　was　angry…the　paper　had　been　all　torn　there；　the　plaster　beneath　torn　and　broken。　This　was　no　time　to　think　of　Zelda；　not　when　Jud　might　be　hurt。　Suppose　he　had　fallen　down？　He　was　an　old　man。
　　Think　about　that；　not　about　the　dreams　you　had　as　a　kid；　dreams　of　opening　the　closet　and　having　Zelda　spring　out　at　you　with　her　blackened；　grinning　face；　dreams　of　being　in　the　bathtub　and　seeing　Zelda's　eyes　peering　out　of　the　drain；　dreams　of　Zelda　lurking　in　the　basement　behind　the　furnace；　dreams…　Church　opened　his　mouth；　exposing　his　sharp　teeth　and　cried　Waow！　again。
　　Louis　was　right；　we　never　should　have　had　him　fixed；　he's　never　seemed　right　since　then。　But　Louis　said　it　would　take　away　all　of　his　aggressive　instincts。　He　was　wrong　about　that；　anyway；　Church　still　hunts。　He…　Waow！　Church　cried　again；　then　turned　and　darted　up　the　stairs。
　　〃Jud？〃　she　called　again。　〃Are　you　up　there？〃
　　Waow！　Church　cried　from　the　top　of　the　stairs；　as　if　to　confirm　the　fact；　and　then　he　disappeared　down　the　hall。
　　How　did　he　get　in；　anyway？　Did　Jud　let　him　in？　Why？
　　Rachel　shifted　from　one　foot　to　the　other；　wondering　what　to　do　next。　The　worst　of　it　was　that　all　of　this　seemed　。　。　。　seemed　somehow　managed；　as　if　something　wanted　her　to　be　here；　and…　And　then　there　was　a　groan　from　upstairs；　low　and　filled　with　pain…Jud's　voice；　surely　Jud's　voice。　He's　fallen　in　the　bathroom　or　maybe　tripped；　broken　a　leg；　or　sprained　his　hip；　maybe；　the　bones　of　the　old　are　brittle；　and　what　in　the　name　of　God　are　you　thinking　of；　girl；　standing　down　here　and　shifting　back　and　forth　like　you　had　to　go　to　the　bathroom；　that　was　blood　on　Church；　blood；　Jud's　hurt　and　you're　just　standing　here！　What's　wrong　with　you？
　　〃Jud！〃　The　groan　came　again；　and　she　ran　up　the　stairs。
　　She　had　never　been　up　here　before；　and　because　the　hail's　only　window　faced　west；　toward　the　river；　it　was　still　very　dark。　The　hallway　ran　straight　and　wide　beside　the　stairwell　and　toward　the　back　of　the　house；　the　cherrywood　rail　gleaming　with　mellow　elegance。　There　was　a　picture　of　the　Acropolis　on　the　wall　and
　　（it's　Zelda　all　these　years　she's　been　after　you　and　now　it's　her　time　open　the　right　door　and　she'll　be　there　with　her　humped　and　twisted　back　smelling　of　piss　and　death　it's　Zelda　it's　her　time　and　finally　she　caught　up　with　you）
　　the　groan　came　again；　low；　from　behind　the　second　door　on　the　right。
　　Rachel　began　to　walk　toward　that　door；　her　heels　clacking　on　the　boards。　It　seemed　to　her　that　she　was　going　through　some　sort　of　warp…not　a　time　warp　or　a　space　warp　but　a　size　warp。　She　was　getting　smaller。　The　picture　of　the　Acropolis　was　floating　higher　and　higher；　and　that　cut…glass　doorknob　would　soon　be　at　eye　level。　Her　hand　stretched　out　for　it。　。　。　and　before　she　could　even　touch　it；　the　door　was　snatched　open。
　　Zelda　stood　there。
　　She　was　hunched　and　twisted；　her　body　so　cruelly　deformed　that　she　had　actually　bee　a　dwarf；　little　more　than　two　feet　high；　and　for　some　reason　Zelda　was　wearing　the　suit　they　had　buried　Gage　in。　But　it　was　Zelda；　all　right；　her　eyes　alight　with　an　insane　glee；　her　face　a　raddled　purple；　it　was　Zelda　screaming；　〃I　finally　came　back　for　you；　Rachel；　I'm　going　to　twist　your　back　like　mine　and　you'll　never　get　out　of　bed　again　never　get　out　of　bed　again　NEVER　GET　OUT　OF　BED　AGAIN…〃
　　Church　was　perched　on　one　of　her　shoulders　and　Zelda's　face　swam　and　changed；　and　Rachel　saw　with　spiraling；　sickening　horror　that　it　really　wasn't　Zelda　at　all…how　could　she　have　made　such　a　stupid　mistake？　It　was　Cage。　His　face　was　not　black　but　dirty；　smeared　with　blood。　And　it　was　swollen；　as　if　he　had　been　terribly　hurt　and　then　put　back　together　again　by　crude；　uncaring　hands。
　　She　cried　his　name　and　held　her　arms　out。　He　ran　to　her　and　climbed　into　them；　and　all　the　time　one　hand　remained　behind　his　back；　as　if　with　a　bunch　of　posies　picked　in　someone's　back　meadow。
　　〃I　brought　you　something；　Mommy！〃　he　screamed。　〃I　brought　you　something；　Mommy！　I　brought　you　something；　I　brought　you　something！〃
　　6o
　　Louis　Creed　woke　up　with　the　sun　blazing　full　in　his　eyes。　He　tried　to　get　up　and　grimaced　at　the　stab　of　pain　in　his　back。　It　was　huge。　He　fell　back　on　the　pillow　and　glanced　down　at　himself。　Still　fully　dressed。　Christ。
　　He　lay　there　for　a　long　moment；　steeling　himself　against　the　stiffness　that　had　settled　into　every　muscle；　and　then　he　sat　up。
　　〃Oh；　shit；〃　he　whispered。　For　a　few　seconds　the　room　seesawed　gently　but　perceptibly。　His　back　throbbed　like　a　bad　tooth；　and　when　he　moved　his　head；　it　felt　as　if　the　tendons　in　his　neck　had　been　replaced　by　rusty　bandsaw　blades。　But　his　knee　was　really　the　worst。　The　Ben…Gay　hadn't　done　a　thing　for　it。　He　should　have　given　himself　a　fucking　cortisone　shot。　His　pants　were　drawn　tightly　against　the　knee　by　the　swelling；　it　looked　like　there　was　a　balloon　under　there。
　　〃Really　jobbed　it；〃　he　muttered。　〃Boy；　oh　boy；　did　I　ever。〃
　　He　bent　it　very　slowly　so　he　could　sit　on　the　edge　of　the　bed；　lips　pressed　so　tightly　together　that　they　were　white。　Then　he　began　to　flex　it　a　bit；　listening　to　the　pain　talk；　trying　to　decide　just　how　bad　it　really　was；　if　it　might　be…　
　　Gage！　Is　Gage　back？
　　That　got　him　on　his　feet　in　spite　of　the　pain。　He　lurched　across　the　room　like　Matt　Dillon's　old　sidekick　Chester。　He　went　through　the　door　and　across　the　hail　into　Gage's　room。　He　looked　around　wildly；　his　son's　name　trembling　on　his　lips。　But　the　room　was　empty。　He　limped　down　to　Ellie's　room；　which　was　also　empty；　and　then　into　the　spare　room。　That　room；　which　faced　the　highway；　was　also　empty。　But…。
　　There　was　a　strange　car　across　the　road。　Parked　behind　Jud's　truck。
　　So　what？
　　So　a　strange　vehicle　over　there　could　mean　trouble；　that　was　so　what。
　　Louis　drew　the　curtain　aside　and　examined　the　vehicle　more　closely。　It　was　a　small　blue　car；　a　Chevette。　And　curled　up　on　top　of　it；　apparently　sleeping；　was　Church。
　　He　looked　for　a　long　time　before　letting　the　curtain　go。　Jud　had　pany；　that　was　all…so　what？　And　it　was　maybe　too　early　to　worry　about　what　was　or　was　not　going　to　happen　with　Gage；　Church　hadn't　e　back　until　almost　one　o'clock；　and　it　was　only　nine　o'clock　now。　Nine　o'clock　on　a　beautiful　May　morning。　He　would　simply　go　downstairs　and　make　some　coffee；　get　out　the　heating　pad　and　wrap　it　around　his　knee；　and…
　　…and　what's　Church　doing　on　top　of　that　car？
　　〃Oh；　e　on；〃　he　said　aloud　and　began　to　limp　back　down　the　hail。　Cats　slept　anywhere　and　everywhere；　it　was　the　nature　of　the　beast。
　　Except　Church　doesn't　cross　the　road　anymore；　remember？
　　〃Forget　it；〃　he　muttered　and　paused　halfway　down