sk.petsematary-第45节

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　　〃I　don't　really　know；〃　Louis　said。　〃To　make　room　for　all　the　new　people；　I　guess。　Little　people　like　you　and　your　brother　Gage。〃
　　〃I'm　never　going　to　get　married　or　do　sex　and　have　babies！〃　Ellie　declared；　crying　harder　than　ever。　〃Then　maybe　it'll　never　happen　to　me！　It's　awful！　It's　rn…rn…mean！〃
　　〃But　it's　an　end　to　suffering；〃　Louis　said　quietly。　〃And　as　a　doctor　I　see　a　lot　of　suffering。　One　of　the　reasons　I　wanted　the　job　at　the　university　was　because　I　got　sick　of　looking　at　it　day　in　and　day　out。　Young　people　quite　often　have　pain。　。　。　bad　pain；　even　but　that's　not　quite　the　same　as　suffering。〃
　　He　paused。
　　〃Believe　it　or　not；　honey；　when　people　get　very　old；　death　doesn't　always　look　so　bad　or　so　scary　as　it　seems　to　you。　And　you　have　years　and　years　and　years　ahead　of　you。〃
　　Ellie　cried；　and　then　she　sniffed；　and　then　she　stopped。　Before　they　got　home；　she　asked　if　she　could　play　the　radio。　Louis　said　yes；　and　she　found　Shakin'　Stevens　singing　〃This　Ole　House〃　on　WACZ。　Soon　she　was　singing　along。　When　they　got　home　she　went　to　her　mother　and　prattled　about　the　funeral；　to　Rachel's　credit；　she　listened　quietly；　sympathetically；　and　supportively　although　Louis　thought　she　looked　pale　and　thoughtful。
　　Then　Ellie　asked　her　if　she　knew　how　to　make　oatmeal　cookies；　and　Rachel　put　away　the　piece　of　knitting　she'd　been　doing　and　rose　at　once；　as　if　she　had　been　waiting　for　this　or　something　like　it。　〃Yes；〃　she　said。　〃Want　to　make　a　batch？〃
　　〃Yay！〃　Ellie　shouted。　〃Can　we　really；　Mom？〃
　　〃We　can　if　your　father　will　watch　Gage　for　an　hour。〃
　　〃I'll　watch　him；〃　Louis　said。　〃With　pleasure。〃
　　Louis　spent　the　evening　reading　and　making　notes　on　a　long　article　in　The　Duquesne　Medical　Digest；　the　old　controversy　concerning　dissolving　sutures　had　begun　again。　In　the　small　world　of　those　relatively　few　humans　on　earth　concerned　with　stitching　minor　wounds；　it　appeared　to　be　as　endless　as　that　old　psychological　squabbling　point；　nature　versus　nurture。
　　He　intended　writing　a　dissenting　letter　this　very　night；　proving　that　the　writer's　main　contentions　were　specious；　his　case　examples　self…serving；　his　research　almost　criminally　sloppy。　In　short；　Louis　was　looking　forward…with　high　good　humor…to　blowing　the　stupid　fuck　right　off　the　map。　He　was　hunting　around　in　the　study　bookcase　for　his　copy　of　Troutman's　Treatment　of　Wounds　when　Rachel　came　halfway　down　the　stairs。
　　〃ing　up；　Lou？〃
　　〃I'll　be　a　while。〃　He　glanced　up　at　her。　〃Everything　all　right？〃
　　〃They're　deep　asleep；　both　of　them。〃
　　Louis　looked　at　her　closely。　〃Them；　yeah。　You're　not。〃
　　〃I'm　fine。　Been　reading。〃
　　〃You're　okay？　Really？〃
　　〃Yes；〃　she　said　and　smiled。　〃I　love　you；　Louis。〃
　　〃Love　you　too；　babe。〃　He　glanced　at　the　bookcase；　and　there　was　Troutman；　right　where　he　had　been　all　along。　Louis　put　his　hand　on　the　textbook。
　　〃Church　brought　a　rat　into　the　house　while　you　and　Ellie　were　gone；〃　she　said　and　tried　to　smile。　〃Yuck；　what　a　mess。〃
　　〃Jeez；　Rachel；　I'm　sorry。〃　He　hoped　he　did　not　sound　as　guilty　as；　at　that　moment；　he　felt。　〃It　was　bad？〃
　　Rachel　sat　down　on　the　stairs。　In　her　pink　flannel　nightgown；　her　face　cleaned　of　makeup　and　her　forehead　shining；　her　hair　tied　back　into　a　short　ponytail　with　a　rubber　band；　she　looked　like　a　child。　〃I　took　care　of　it；〃　she　said；　〃but　do　you　know；　I　had　to　beat　that　dumb　cat　out　the　door　with　the　vacuum　cleaner　attachment　before　it　would　stop　guarding　the　。　。　。　the　corpse？　It　growled　at　me。　Church　never　growled　at　me　before　in　his　life。　He　seems　different　lately。　Do　you　think　he　might　have　distemper　or　something；　Louis？〃
　　〃No；〃　Louis　said　slowly；　〃but　I'll　take　him　to　the　vet；　if　you　want。〃
　　〃I　guess　it's　all　right；〃　she　said　and　then　looked　at　him　nakedly。　〃But　would　you　e　up？　I　just　。　。　。　I　know　you're　working；　but。。　。〃
　　〃Of　course；〃　he　said；　getting　up　as　though　it　were　nothing　important　at　all。　And；　really；　it　wasn't…except　he　knew　that　now　the　letter　would　never　be　written　because　the　parade　has　a　way　of　moving　on；　and　tomorrow　would　bring　something　new。　But　he　had　bought　that　rat；　hadn't　he？　The　rat　that　Church　had　brought　in；　surely　clawed　to　bloody　ribbons；　its　intestines　dragging；　its　head　perhaps　gone。　Yes。　He　had　bought　it。　It　was　his　rat。
　　〃Let's　go　to　bed；〃　he　said；　turning　off　the　lights。　He　and　Rachel　went　up　the　stairs　together。　Louis　put　his　arm　around　her　waist　and　loved　her　the　best　he　could。　。　。　but　even　as　he　entered　into　her；　hard　and　erect；　he　was　listening　to　the　winter　whine　outside　the　frost…traced　windows；　wondering　about　Church；　the　cat　that　used　to　belong　to　his　daughter　and　now　belonged　to　him；　wondering　where　it　was　and　what　it　was　stalking　or　killing。　The　soil　of　a　man's　heart　is　stonier；　he　thought；　and　the　wind　sang　its　bitter　black　song；　and　not　so　many　miles　distant；　Norma　Crandall；　who　had　once　knitted　his　daughter　and　son　matching　caps；　lay　in　her　gray　steel　American　Eternal　coffin　on　a　stone　slab　in　a　Mount　Hope　crypt；　by　now　the　white　cotton　the　mortician　would　have　used　to　stuff　her　cheeks　would　be　turning　black。
　　　34
　　Ellie　turned　six。　She　came　home　from　kindergarten　on　her　birthday　with　a　paper　hat　askew　on　her　head；　several　pictures　friends　had　drawn　of　her　（in　the　best　of　them　Ellie　looked　like　a　friendly　scarecrow）；　and　baleful　stories　about　spankings　in　the　schoolyard　during　recess。　The　flu　epidemic　passed。　They　had　to　send　two　students　to　the　EMMC　in　Bangor；　and　Surrendra　Hardu　probably　saved　the　life　of　one　woefully　sick　freshman　boy　with　the　terrible　name　of　Peter　Humperton；　who　went　into　convulsions　shortly　after　being　admitted。　Rachel　developed　a　mild　infatuation　with　the　blond　bag　boy　at　the　A　&　P　in　Brewer　and　rhapsodized　to　Louis　at　night　about　how　packed　his　jeans　looked。　〃It's　probably　just　toilet　paper；〃　she　added。　〃Squeeze　it　sometime；〃　Louis　suggested。　〃If　he　screams；　it's　probably　not。〃　Rachel　had　laughed　until　she　cried。　The　blue；　still；　subzero　miniseason　of　February　passed　and　brought　on　the　alternating　rains　and　freezes　of　March；　potholes；　and　those　orange　roadside　signs　which　pay　homage　to　the　Great　God　BUMP。　The　immediate；　personal；　and　most　agonizing　grief　of　Jud　Crandall　passed；　that　grief　which　the　psychologists　say　begins　about　three　days　after　the　death　of　a　loved　one　and　holds　hard　from　four　to　six　weeks　in　most　cases…　like　that　period　of　time　New　Englanders　sometimes　call　〃deep　winter。〃　But　time　passes；　and　time　welds　one　state　of　human　feeling　into　another　until　they　bee　something　like　a　rainbow。　Strong　grief　bees　a　softer；　more　mellow　grief；　mellow　grief　bees　mourning；　mourning　at　last　bees　remembrance…a　process　that　may　take　from　six　months　to　three　years　and　still　be　considered　normal。　The　day　of　Gage's　first　haircut　came　and　passed；　and　when　Louis　saw　his　son's　hair　growing　in　darker；　he　joked　about　it　and　did　his　own　mourning…but　only　in　his　heart。
　　Spring　came；　and　it　stayed　awhile。
　　　35
　　Louis　Creed　came　to　believe　that　the　last　really　happy　day　of　his　life　was　March　24；　1984。　The　things　that　were　to　e；　poised　above　them　like　a　killing　sashweight；　were　still　over　seven　weeks　in　the　future；　but　looking　over　those　seven　weeks　he　found　nothing　which　stood　out　with　the　same　color。　He　supposed　that　even　if　none　of　those　terrible　things　had　happened；　he　would　have　remembered　the　day　forever。　Days　which　seem　genuinely　good…　good　all　the　way　through…are　rare　enough　anyway；　he　thought。　It　might　be　that　there　was　less　than　a　month　of　really　good　ones　in　any　natural　man's　life　in　the　best　of　circumstances。　It　came　to　seem　to　Louis　that　God；　in　His　infinite　wisdom；　seemed　much　more　generous　when　it　came　to　doling　out　pain。
　　That　day　was　a　Saturday；　and　he　was　home　minding　Gage　in　the　afternoon　while　Rachel　and　Ellie　went　after　groceries。　They　had　gone　with　Jud　in　his　old　and　rattling　'59　IH　pickup　not　because　the　station　wagon　wasn't　running　but　because　the　old　man　genuinely　liked　their　pany。　Rachel　asked　Louis　if　he　would　be　okay　with　Gage；　and　he　told　her　that　of　course　he　would。　He　was　glad　to　see　her　get　out；　after　a　winter　in　Maine；　most　of　it　in　Ludlow；　he　thought　that　she　needed　all　the　getting　out　she　could　lay　her　hands　on。　She　had　been　an　unremittingly　good　sport　about　it；　but　she　did　seem　to　him　to　be　getting　a　little　stir　crazy。
　　Gage　got　up　from　his　nap　around　two　o'clock；　scratchy　and　out　of　sorts。　He　had　discovered　the　Terrible　Twos　and　made　them　his　own。　Louis　tried　several　ineffectual　gambits　to　amuse　the　kid；　and　Gage　turned　them　all　down。　To　make　matters　worse；　the　rotten　kid　had　an　enormous　bowel　movement；　the　artistic　quality　of　which　was　not　improved　for　Louis　when　he　saw　a　blue　marble　sitting　in　the　middle　of　it。　It　was　one　of　Ellie's　marbles。　The　kid　could　have　choked。　He　decided　the　marbles　were　going　to　go…　everything　Gage　got　hold　of　went　right　to　his　mouth…but　that　decision；　while　undoubtedly　laudable；　didn't　do　a　thing　about　keeping　the　kid　amused　until　his　mother　got　back。
　　Louis　listened　to　the　early　spring　wind　gust　around　the　house；　sending　big　blinkers　of　light　and　shadow　across　Mrs。　Vinton's　field　next　door；　and　he　suddenly　thought　of　the　Vulture　he　had　bought　on　a　whim　five　or　six　weeks　before；　while　on　his　way