sk.petsematary-第42节

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e　back　bedroom。　。　。　she　was　in　the　back　bedroom　like　a　dirty　secret；　Louis；　she　was　dying　in　there；　my　sister　died　in　the　back　bedroom　and　that's　what　she　was；　a　dirty　secret…she　was　always　a　dirty　secret！〃
　　Rachel　suddenly　broke　down　pletely；　and　in　the　loud；　rising　quality　of　her　sobs；　Louis　sensed　the　onset　of　hysteria　and　became　alarmed。　He　reached　for　her　and　caught　a　shoulder；　which　was　pulled　away　from　him　as　soon　as　he　touched　it。　He　could　feel　the　whisper　of　her　nightdress　under　his　fingertips。
　　〃Rachel…babe…don't…〃
　　〃Don't　tell　me　don't；〃　she　said。　〃Don't　stop　me；　Louis。　I've　only　got　the　strength　to　tell　this　once；　and　then　I　don't　want　to　ever　talk　about　it　again。　I　probably　won't　sleep　tonight　as　it　is。〃
　　〃Was　it　that　horrible？〃　he　asked；　knowing　the　answer　already。　It　explained　so　much；　and　even　things　he　had　never　connected　before　or　only　suspected　vaguely　suddenly　came　together　in　his　mind；　She　had　never　attended　a　funeral　with　him；　he　realized…　not　even　that　of　Al　Locke；　a　fellow　med　student　who　had　been　killed　when　his　motorcycle　had　collided　with　a　city　bus。　Al　had　been　a　regular　visitor　at　their　apartment；　and　Rachel　had　always　liked　him。　Yet　she　had　not　gone　to　his　funeral。
　　She　was　sick　that　day；　Louis　remembered　suddenly。　Got　the　flu　or　something。　Looked　serious。　But　the　next　day　she　was　okay　again。
　　After　the　funeral　she　was　all　right　again；　he　corrected　himself。　He　remembered　thinking　even　then　that　her　sickness　might　just　be　psychosomatic。
　　〃It　was　horrible；　all　right。　Worse　than　you　can　ever　imagine。　Louis；　we　watched　her　degenerate　day　by　day；　and　there　was　nothing　anyone　could　do。　She　was　in　constant　pain。　Her　body　seemed　to　shrivel。　。　。　pull　in　on　itself。　。　。　her　shoulders　hunched　up　and　her　face　pulled　down　until　it　was　like　a　mask。　Her　hands　were　like　birds'　feet。　I　had　to　feed　her　sometimes。　I　hated　it；　but　I　did　it　and　never　said　boo　about　it。　When　the　pain　got　bad　enough；　they　started　giving　her　drugs…mild　ones　at　first　and　then　ones　that　would　have　left　her　a　junkie　if　she　had　lived。　But　of　course　everyone　knew　she　wasn't　going　to　live。　I　guess　that's　why　she's　such　a。　。　secret　to　all　of　us。　Because　we　wanted　her　to　die；　Louis；　we　wished　for　her　to　die；　and　it　wasn't　just　so　she　wouldn't　feel　any　more　pain；　it　was　so　we　wouldn't　feel　any　more　pain；　it　was　because　she　was　starting　to　look　like　a　monster；　and　she　was　starting　to　be　a　monster　。　。　。　oh　Christ　I　know　how　awful　that　must　sound。　。　。〃
　　She　put　her　face　in　her　hands。
　　Louis　touched　her　gently。　〃Rachel；　it　doesn't　sound　awful　at　all。〃
　　〃It　does！〃　she　cried。　〃It　does！〃
　　〃It　just　sounds　true；〃　he　said。　〃Victims　of　long　illnesses　often　bee　demanding；　unpleasant　monsters。　The　idea　of　the　saintlike；　long…suffering　patient　is　a　big　romantic　fiction。　By　the　time　the　first　set　of　sores　crops　up　on　a　bed…bound　patient's　butt；　he…　or　she…has　started　to　snipe　and　cut　and　spread　the　misery。　They　can't　help　it；　but　that　doesn't　help　the　people　in　the　situation。〃
　　She　looked　at　him；　amazed　。　。　。　almost　hopeful。　Then　distrust　stole　back　into　her　face。　〃You're　making　that　up。〃
　　He　smiled　grimly。　〃Want　me　to　show　you　the　textbooks？　How　about　the　suicide　statistics？　Want　to　see　those？　In　families　where　a　terminal　patient　has　been　nursed　at　home；　the　suicide　statistics　spike　right　up　into　the　stratosphere　in　the　six　months　following　the　patient's　death。〃
　　〃Suicide！〃
　　〃They　swallow　pills；　or　sniff　a　pipe；　or　blow　their　brains　out。　Their　hate　。　。　。　their　weariness　。　。　。　their　disgust。　。　。　their　sorrow　。　。　。〃　He　shrugged　and　brought　his　closed　fists　gently　together。　〃The　survivors　start　feeling　as　if　they'd　mitted　murder。　So　they　step　out。〃
　　A　crazy；　wounded　kind　of　relief　had　crept　into　Rachel's　puffy　face。　〃She　was　demanding。　。　。　hateful。　Sometimes　she'd　piss　in　her　bed　deliberately。　My　mother　would　ask　her　if　she　wanted　help　getting　to　the　bathroom　。　。　。　and　later；　when　she　couldn't　get　up　anymore；　if　she　wanted　the　bedpan。　。　。　and　Zelda　would　say　no　。　。　。　and　then　she'd　piss　the　bed　so　my　mother　or　my　mother　and　I　would　have　to　change　the　sheets。　。　。　and　she'd　say　it　was　an　accident；　but　you　could　see　the　smile　in　her　eyes；　Louis。　You　could　see　it。　The　room　always　smelled　of　piss　and　her　drugs　she　had　bottles　of　some　dope　that　smelled　like　Smith　Brothers'　Wild　Cherry　cough　drops　and　that　smell　was　always
　　there。　。　。　some　nights　I　wake　up。　。　。　even　now　I　wake　up　and　I　think　I　can　smell　Wild　Cherry　cough　drops。　。　。　and　I　think　if　I'm　not　really　awake　。　。　。　I　think　'Is　Zelda　dead　yet？　Is　she？'。　。　。　I　think。　。　。
　　Rachel　caught　her　breath。　Louis　took　her　hand　and　she　squeezed　his　fingers　with　savage；　brilliant　tightness。
　　〃When　we　changed　her　you　could　see　the　way　her　back　was　twisting　and　knotting。　Near　the　end；　Louis；　near　the　end　it　seemed　like　her。　。　。　like　her　ass　had　somehow　gotten　all　the　way　up　to　the　middle　of　her　back。〃
　　Now　Rachel's　wet　eyes　had　taken　on　the　glassy；　horrified　look　of　a　child　remembering　a　recurrent　nightmare　of　terrible　power。
　　〃And　sometimes　she'd　touch　me　with　her　。　。　。　her　hands　。　。　。
　　。　。　。　her　birdy　hands　。　。　。　and　sometimes　I'd　almost　scream　and　ask　her　not　to；　and　once　I　spilled　some　of　her　soup　on　my　arm　when　she　touched　my　face　and　I　burned　myself　and　that　time　I　did　scream　。　。　。　and　I　cried　and　I　could　see　the　smile　in　her　eyes　then；　too。
　　〃Near　the　end　the　drugs　stopped　working。　She　was　the　one　who　would　scream　then；　and　none　of　us　could　remember　the　way　she　was　before；　not　even　my　mother。　She　was　just　this　foul；　hateful；　screaming　thing　in　the　back　bedroom　。　。　。　our　dirty　secret。〃
　　Rachel　swallowed。　Her　throat　clicked。
　　〃My　parents　were　gone　when　she　finally　。　。　。　when　she　。　you　know；　when　she。　。　。〃
　　With　terrible；　wrenching　effort；　Rachel　brought　it　out。
　　〃When　she　died；　my　parents　were　gone。　They　were　gone　but　I　was　with　her。　It　was　Passover　season；　and　they　went　out　for　a　while　to　see　some　friends。　Just　for　a　few　minutes。　I　was　reading　a　magazine　in　the　kitchen。　Well；　I　was　looking　at　it；　anyway。　I　was　waiting　…for　it　to　be　time　to　give　her　some　more　medicine　because　she　was　screaming。　She'd　been　screaming　ever　since　my　folks　left；　almost。　I　couldn't　read　with　her　screaming　that　way。　And　then　see；　what　happened　was　。　。　。　well　。　。　。　Zelda　stopped　screaming。　Louis；　I　was　eight。　。　。　bad　dreams　every　night。　。　。　I　had　started　to　think　she　hated　me　because　my　back　was　straight；　because　I　didn't　have　the　constant　pain；　because　I　could　walk；　because　I　was　going　to　live　。　。　。　I　started　to　imagine　she　wanted　to　kill　me。　Only；　even　now　tonight；　Louis；　I　don't　really　think　it　was　all　my　imagination。　I　do　think　she　hated　me。　I　don't　really　think　she　would　have　killed　me；　but　if　she　could　have　taken　over　my　body　some　way。　。　。　turned　me　out　of　it　like　in　a　fairy　story
　　I　think　she　would　have　done　that。　But　when　she　stopped　screaming；　I　went　in　to　see　if　everything　was　all　right。　。　。　to　see　if　she　had　fallen　over　on　her　side　or　slipped　off　her　pillows。　I　got　in　and　I　looked　at　her　and　I　thought　she　must　have　swallowed　her　own　tongue　and　she　was　choking　to　death。　Louis〃…Rachel's　voice　rose　again；　teary　and　frighteningly　childish；　as　if　she　were　regressing；　reliving　the　experience…〃Louis；　I　didn't　know　what　to　do！　I　was　eight！〃
　　〃No；　of　course　you　didn't；〃　Louis　said。　He　turned　to　her　and　hugged　her；　and　Rachel　gripped　him　with　the　panicky　strength　of　a　poor　swimmer　whose　boat　has　suddenly　overturned　in　the　middle　of　a　large　lake。　〃Did　someone　actually　give　you　a　hard　time　about　it；　babe？〃
　　〃No；〃　she　said；　〃no　one　blamed　me。　But　nobody　could　make　it　better　either。　No　one　could　change　it。　No　one　could　make　it　an　unhappening；　Louis。　She　hadn't　swallowed　her　tongue。　She　started　making　a　sound；　a　kind　of；　I　don't　know…gaaaaaa…like　that…〃
　　In　her　distressed；　total　recall　of　that　day　she　did　a　more　than　creditable　imitation　of　the　way　her　sister　Zelda　must　have　sounded；　and　Louis's　mind　Bashed　to　Victor　Pascow。　His　grip　on　his　wife　tightened。
　　〃…and　there　was　spit；　spit　ing　down　her　chin…〃
　　〃Rachel；　that's　enough；〃　he　said；　not　quite　steadily。　〃I　am　aware　of　the　symptoms。〃
　　〃I'm　explaining；〃　she　said　stubbornly。　〃I'm　explaining　why　I　can't　go　to　poor　Norma's　funeral；　for　one　thing；　and　why　we　had　that　stupid　fight　that　day…〃
　　〃Shh…that's　forgotten。〃
　　〃Not　by　me；　it　isn't；〃　she　said。　〃I　remember　it　well；　Louis。　I　remember　it　as　well　as　I　remember　my　sister　Zelda　choking　to　death　in　her　bed　on　April　14；　1965。〃
　　For　a　long　moment　there　was　silence　in　the　room。
　　〃I　turned　her　over　on　her　belly　and　thumped　her　back；〃　Rachel　went　on　at　last。　〃It's　all　I　knew　to　do。　Her　feet　were　beating　up　and　down　。　。　。　and　her　twisted　legs　。　。　。　and　I　remember　there　was　a　sound　like　farting　。　。　。　I　thought　she　was　farting　or　I　was；　but　it　wasn't　farts；　it　was　the　seams　under　both　arms　of　my　blouse　ripping　out　when　I　turned　her　over。　She　started　to　。　。　。　to　convulse　。　。　。　and　I　saw　that　her　face　was　turned　sideways；　turned　into　the　pillows；　and　I　thought；　oh；　she's　choking；　Zelda's　choking；　and　they'll　e　home　and　say　I　murdered　her　by　choking；　they'll　say　you　hated　her；　Rachel；　and　that　was　true；　and　they'll　say　you　wanted