sk.petsematary-第28节
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w that he was beat； used up； done in。 He could not remember feeling so kicked…dog weary since his first day on Chicago's rubbish…disposal crew one high…school summer sixteen or seventeen years ago。
They came back the same way they had gone； but he could remember very little about the trip。 He stumbled on the deadfall； he remembered that…lurching forward and thinking absurdly of Peter Pan…oh Jesus； I lost my happy thoughts and down I e… and then Jud's hand had been there； firm and hard； and a few moments later they had been trudging past the final resting places of Smucky the Cat and Trixie and Marta Our Pet Rabit and onto the path he had once walked not only with Jud but with his whole family。
It seemed that in some weary way he had pondered the dream of Victor Pascow； the one which had resulted in his somnambulistic episode； but any connection between that night walk and this had eluded him。 It had also occurred to him that the whole adventure had been dangerous…not in any melodramatic Wilkie Collins sense but in a very real one。 That he had outrageously blistered his hands while in a state that was nearly somnambulistic was really the least of it。 He could have killed himself on the deadfall。 Both of them could have。 It was hard to square such behavior with sobriety。 In his current exhaustion； he was willing to ascribe it to confusion and emotional upset over the death of a pet the whole family had loved。
And after a time； there they were； home again。
They walked toward it together； not speaking； and stopped again in Louis's driveway。 The wind moaned and whined。 Wordlessly； Louis handed Jud his pick。
〃I'd best get across；〃 Jud said at last。 〃Louella Bisson or Ruthie Parks will be bringin Norma home and she'll wonder where the hell I am。〃
〃Do you have the time？〃 Louis asked。 He was surprised that Norma wasn't home yet； in his muscles it seemed to him that midnight must have struck。
〃Oh； ayuh；〃 Jud said。 〃I keep the time as long as I'm dressed and then I let her go。〃
He fished a watch out of his pants pocket and flicked the scrolled cover back from its face。
〃It's gone eight…thirty；〃 he said and snapped the cover closed again。
〃Eight…thirty？〃 Louis repeated stupidly。 〃That's all？〃
〃How late did you think it was？〃 Jud asked。
〃Later than that；〃 Louis said。
〃I'll see you tomorrow； Louis；〃 Jud said and began to move away。
He turned toward Louis； mildly questioning。
〃Jud； what did we do tonight？〃
〃Why； we buried your daughter's cat。〃
〃Is that all we did？〃
〃Nothing but that；〃 Jud said。 〃You're a good man； Louis； but you ask too many questions。 Sometimes people have to do things that just seem right。 That seem right in their hearts； I mean。 And if they do those things and then end up not feeling right； full of questions and sort of like they got indigestion； only inside their heads instead of in their guts； they think they made a mistake。 Do you know what I mean？〃
〃Yes；〃 touis said； thinking that Jud must have been reading his mind as the two of them walked downhill through the field and toward the house lights。
〃What they don't think is that maybe they should be questioning those feelings of doubt before they question their own hearts；〃 Jud said； looking at him closely。 〃What do you think； Louis？〃
〃I think；〃 Louis said slowly； 〃that you might be right。〃
〃And the things that are in a man's heart…it don't do him much good to talk about those things； does it？〃
〃Well…〃
〃No；〃 Jud said； as if Louis had simply agreed。 〃It don't。〃 And in his calm voice that was so sure and so implacable； in that voice which somehow put the chill through Louis； he said： 〃They are secret things。 Women are supposed to be the ones good at keeping secrets； and I guess they do keep a few； but any woman who knows anything at all would tell you she's never really seen into any man's heart。 The soil of a man's heart is stonier； Louis…like the soil up there in the old Micmac burying ground。 Bedrock's close。 A man grows what he can。 。 。 and he tends it。〃
Jud… 〃Don't question； Louis。 Accept what's done and follow your heart。〃
〃But…〃
〃But nothing。 Accept what's done； Louis； and follow your heart。 We did what was right this time 。 。 。 at least； I hope to Christ it was right。 Another time it could be wrong…wrong as hell。〃
〃Will you at least answer one question？〃
〃Well； let's hear what it is； and then we'll see。〃
〃How did you know about that place？〃 This question had also occurred to Louis on the way back； along with the suspicion that Jud himself might be part Micmac…although he did not look like it； he looked as if every one of his ancestors had been one hundred percent card…carrying Anglos。
〃Why； from Stanny B。；〃 he said； looking surprised。
〃He just told you？〃
〃No；〃 Jud said。 〃It isn't the kind of place you just tell somebody about。 I buried my dog Spot up there when I was ten。 He was chasing a rabbit； and he run on some rusty barbed wire。 The wounds infected and it killed him。〃
There was something wrong about that； something that didn't fit with something Louis had been previously told； but he was too tired to puzzle out the discontinuity。 Jud said no more； only looked at him from his inscrutable old man's eyes。
〃Goodnight； Jud；〃 Louis said。
〃Goodnight。〃
The old man crossed the road； carrying his pick and shovel。
〃Thanks！〃 Louis called impulsively。
Jud didn't turn； he only raised one hand to indicate he had heard。
And in the house； suddenly； the telephone began to ring。
Louis ran； wincing at the aches that flared in his upper thighs and lower back； but by the time he had gotten into the warm kitchen； the phone had already rung six or seven times。 It stopped ringing just as he put his hand on it。 He picked it up anyway and said hello； but there was only the open hum。
That was Rachel； he thought。 I'll call her back。
But suddenly it seemed like too much work to dial the number； to dance clumsily with her mother…or worse； her checkbook…brandishing father…to be passed on to Rachel 。 。 。 and then to Ellie。 Ellie would still be up of course； it was an hour earlier in Chicago。 Ellie would ask him how Church was doing。
Great； he's fine。 Got hit by an Orinco truck。 Somehow I'm absolutely positive it was an Orinco truck。 Anything else would lack dramatic unity； if you know what I mean。 You don't？ Well； never mind。 The truck killed him but didn't mark him up hardly at all。 Jud and I planted him up in the old Micmac burying ground… sort of an annex to the Pet Sematary； if you know what I mean。 Amazing walk； punkin。 I'll take you up there sometime and we'll put flowers by his marker…excuse me； his cairn。 After the quicksand's frozen over； that is； and the bears go to sleep for the winter。
He rehung the telephone； crossed to the sink； and filled it with hot water。 He removed his shirt and washed。 He had been sweating like a pig in spite of the cold； and a pig was exactly what he smelled like。
There was some leftover meatloaf in the refrigerator。 Louis cut it into slabs； put them on a slice of Roman Meal bread； and added two thick rounds of Bermuda onion。 He contemplated this for a moment before dousing it with ketchup and slamming down another slice of bread。 If Rachel and Ellie had been around； they would have wrinkled their noses in identical gestures of distaste… yuck； gross。
Well； you missed it； ladies； Louis thought with undeniable satisfaction and gobbled his sandwich。 It tasted great。 Confucius say he who smell like pig eat like wolf； he thought and smiled。 He chased the sandwich with several long swallows of milk directly from the carton…another habit Rachel frowned on strenuously… and then he went upstairs； undressed； and got into bed without even washing his teeth。 His aches and pains had faded to one low throb that was almost forting。
His watch was there where he had left it； and he looked at it。 Ten minutes of nine。 It really was incredible。
Louis turned off the light； turned over on his side； and slept。
He woke up sometime after three the next morning and shuffled to the bathroom； He was standing there urinating； blinking owlishly in the bright white fluorescent bathroom light； when the discrepancy suddenly showed up in his mind； and his eyes widened…it was as if two pieces of something which should have fitted together perfectly had instead thudded against one another and rebounded。
Tonight Jud had told him that his dog had died when he was ten…had died of infection after being scraped up in a snarl of rusty barbed wire。 But on the late…summer day when all of them had walked up to the Pet Sematary together； Jud said that his dog had died of old age and was buried there…he had even pointed out the marker； although the years had worn the inscription away。
Louis flushed the toilet； turned out the light； and went back to bed。 Something else was wrong； as well…and in a moment he had it。 Jud had been born with the century； and that day at the Pet Sematary he had told Louis his dog had died during the first year of the Great War。 That would have been when Jud was fourteen； if he had meant when the war actually started in Europe。 When
