sk.petsematary-第68节

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nd　his　mind　turning　back　and　back　in　a　widening　gyre。　If　he　had　known　the　run　of　Rachel　Creed's　earlier　thoughts　he　could　have　told　her　that　what　her　psych　teacher　had　told　her　was　maybe　the　truth；　but　when　you　got　older　that　dimming　function　of　the　memory　broke　down　little　by　little；　the　same　way　that　everything　else　in　your　body　broke　down；　and　you　found　yourself　recalling　places　and　faces　and　events　with　an　eerie　surety。　Sepia…toned　memories　grew　bright　again；　the　colors　trueing　up；　the　voices　losing　that　tinny　echo　of　time　and　regaining　their　original　resonance。　It　wasn't　informational　breakdown　at　all；　Jud　could　have　told　him。　The　name　for　it　was　senility。
　　In　his　mind　Jud　again　saw　Lester　Morgan's　bull　Hanratty；　his　eyes　rimmed　with　red；　charging　at　everything　in　sight；　everything　that　moved。　Charging　at　trees　when　the　wind　jigged　the　leaves。　Before　Lester　gave　up　and　called　it　off；　every　tree　in　Hanratty's　fenced　meadow　was　gored　with　his　brainless　fury　and　his　horns　were　splintered　and　his　head　was　bleeding。　When　Lester　put　Hanratty　down；　Lester　had　been　sick　with　dread…the　way　Jud　himself　was　right　now。
　　He　drank　beer　and　smoked。　Daylight　faded。　He　did　not　put　on　the　light。　Gradually　the　tip　of　his　cigarette　became　a　small　red　pip　in　the　darkness。　He　sat　and　drank　beer　and　watched　Louis　Creed's　driveway。　He　believed　that　when　Louis　came　home　from　wherever　he　was；　he　would　go　over　and　have　a　little　talk　with　him。　Make　sure　Louis　wasn't　planning　to　do　anything　he　shouldn't。
　　And　still　he　felt　the　soft　tug　of　whatever　it　was；　whatever　sick　power　it　was　that　inhabited　that　devil's　place；　reaching　down　from　its　bluff　of　rotted　stone　where　all　those　cairns　had　been　built。
　　Stay　out　of　this；　you。　Stay　out　of　it　or　you're　going　to　be　very；　very　sorry。
　　Ignoring　it　as　best　he　could；　Jud　sat　and　smoked　and　drank　beer。　And　waited。
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　　While　Jud　Crandall　was　sitting　in　the　ladderbacked　rocker　and　watching　for　him　out　of　his　bay　window；　Louis　was　eating　a　big　tasteless　dinner　in　the　Howard　Johnson's　dining　room。
　　The　food　was　plentiful　and　dull…exactly　what　his　body　seemed　to　want。　Outside　it　had　grown　dark。　The　headlights　of　the　passing　cars　probed　like　fingers。　He　shoveled　the　food　in。　A　steak。　A　baked　potato。　A　side　dish　of　beans　which　were　a　bright　green　nature　had　never　intended。　A　wedge　of　apple　pie　with　a　scoop　of　ice　cream　on　top　of　it　melting　into　a　soft　drool。　He　ate　at　a　corner　table；　watching　people　e　and　go；　wondering　if　he　might　not　see　someone　he　knew。　In　a　vague　way；　he　rather　hoped　that　would　happen。　It　would　lead　to　questions…where's　Rachel；　what　are　you　doing　here；　how's　it　going？　…and　perhaps　the　questions　would　lead　to　plications；　and　maybe　plications　were　what　he　really　wanted。　A　way　out。
　　And　as　a　matter　of　fact；　a　couple　that　he　did　know　came　in　just　as　he　was　finishing　his　apple　pie　and　his　second　cup　of　coffee。　Rob　Grinnell；　a　Bangor　doctor；　and　his　pretty　wife　Barbara。　He　waited　for　them　to　see　him；　sitting　here　in　the　corner　at　his　table　for　one；　but　the　hostess　led　them　to　the　booths　on　the　far　side　of　the　room；　and　Louis　lost　sight　of　them　entirely　except　for　an　occasional　glimpse　of　Grinnell's　prematurely　graying　hair。
　　The　waitress　brought　Louis　his　check。　He　signed　for　it；　jotting　his　room　number　under　his　signature；　and　left　by　the　side　door。
　　Outside　the　wind　had　risen　to　near…gale　force。　It　was　a　steady　droning　presence；　making　the　electrical　wires　hum　oddly。　He　could　see　no　stars　but　had　a　sense　of　clouds　rushing　past　overhead　at　high　speed。　Louis　stood　on　the　walk　for　a　moment；　hands　in　pockets；　face　tilted　into　that　wind。　Then　he　turned　back　and　went　up　to　his　room　and　turned　on　the　television。　It　was　too　early　to　do　anything　serious；　and　that　nightwind　was　too　full　of　possibilities。　It　made　him　nervous。
　　He　watched　four　hours　of　TV；　eight　back…to…back　half…hour　edy　programs。　He　realized　it　had　been　a　very　long　time　since　he　had　watched　so　much　TV　in　a　steady；　uninterrupted　stream。　He　thought　that　all　the　female　leads　on　the　sits　were　what　he　and　his　friends　had　called　〃cockteasers〃　back　in　high　school。
　　In　Chicago；　Dory　Goldman　was　wailing；　〃Fly　back？　Honey；　why　do　you　want　to　fly　back？　You　just　got　here！〃
　　In　Ludlow；　Jud　Crandall　sat　by　his　bay　window；　smoking　and　drinking　beer；　motionless；　examining　the　mental　scrapbook　of　his　own　past　and　waiting　for　Louis　to　e　home。　Sooner　or　later　Louis　would　e　home；　just　like　Lassie　in　that　old　movie。　There　were　other　ways　up　to　the　Pet　Sematary　and　the　place　beyond；　but　Louis　didn't　know　them。　If　he　intended　to　do　it；　he　would　begin　from　his　own　dooryard。
　　Unaware　of　these　other　happenings；　like　slow…moving　projectiles　aimed　not　at　where　he　was；　but　rather　in　the　best　ballistics　tradition　at　the　place　where　he　would　be；　Louis　sat　and　watched　the　HoJo　color　television　set。　He　had　never　seen　any　of　these　programs　before；　but　he　had　heard　vague　rumors　of　them：　a　black　family；　a　white　family；　a　little　kid　who　was　smarter　than　the　rich　grown…ups　he　lived　with；　a　woman　who　was　single；　a　woman　who　was　married；　a　woman　who　was　divorced。　He　watched　it　all；　sitting　in　the　HoJo　chair　and　glancing　out　every　now　and　then　at　the　blowy　night。
　　When　the　eleven　o'clock　news　came　on；　he　turned　the　television　set　off　and　went　out　to　do　what　he　had　decided　to　do　perhaps　at　the　very　moment　he　had　seen　Gage's　baseball　cap　lying　in　the　road；　full　of　blood。　The　coldness　was　on　him　again；　stronger　than　ever；　but　there　was　something　beneath　it…an　ember　of　eagerness；　or　passion；　or　perhaps　lust。　No　matter。　It　warmed　him　against　the　cold　and　kept　him　together　in　the　wind。　As　he　started　the　Honda's　engine；　he　thought　that　perhaps　Jud　was　right　about　the　growing　power　of　that　place；　for　surely　he　felt　it　around　him　now；　leading　（or　pushing）　him　on；　and　he　wondered：
　　Could　I　stop？　Could　I　stop　even　if　I　wanted　to？
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　　〃You　want　to　what？〃　Dory　asked　again。　〃Rachel　。　。　。　you're　upset。　。　。　a　night's　sleep。　。
　　Rachel　only　shook　her　head。　She　could　not　explain　to　her　mother　why　she　had　to　go　back。　The　feeling　had　risen　in　her　the　way　a　wind　rises…an　early　stirring　of　the　grasses；　hardly　noticed；　then　the　air　begins　to　move　faster　and　harder；　and　there　is　no　calm　left；　then　the　gusts　bee　hard　enough　to　make　eerie　screaming　noises　around　the　eaves；　then　they　are　shaking　the　house　and　you　realize　that　this　is　something　like　a　hurricane　and　if　the　wind　gets　much　higher；　things　are　going　to　fall　down。
　　It　was　six　o'clock　in　Chicago。　In　Bangor；　Louis　was　just　sitting　down　to　his　big；　tasteless　meal。　Rachel　and　Ellie　'had　done　no　more　than　pick　at　their　dinners。　Rachel　kept　raising　her　eyes　from　her　plate　to　find　her　daughter's　dark　glance　upon　her；　asking　her　what　she　was　going　to　do　about　whatever　trouble　Daddy　was　in；　asking　her　what　she　was　going　to　do。
　　She　waited　for　the　telephone　to　ring；　for　Jud　to　call　and　tell　her　that　Louis　had　e　home；　and　once　it　did　ring…she　jumped；　and　Ellie　almost　spilled　her　glass　of　milk…but　it　was　only　a　lady　from　Dory's　bridge　club；　wanting　to　know　if　she　had　gotten　home　all　right。
　　They　were　having　their　coffee　when　Rachel　had　abruptly　tossed　down　her　napkin　and　said；　〃Daddy　。　。　。　Mom　。　。　。　I'm　sorry；　but　I　have　to　go　home。　If　I　can　get　a　plane；　I'm　going　tonight。〃
　　Her　mother　and　father　had　gaped　at　her；　but　Ellie　had　closed　her　eyes　in　an　adult　expression　of　relief…it　would　have　been　funny　if　not　for　the　waxy；　stretched　quality　of　her　skin。
　　They　did　not　understand；　and　Rachel　could　no　more　explain　than　she　could　have　explained　how　those　tiny　puffs　of　wind；　so　faint　they　can　barely　stir　the　tips　of　short　grass；　can　gradually　grow　in　power　until　they　can　knock　a　steel　building　flat。　She　did　not　believe　that　Ellie　had　heard　a　news　item　about　the　death　of　Victor　Pascow　and　ified　it　away　in　her　subconscious。
　　〃Rachel。　Honey。〃　Her　father　spoke　slowly；　kindly；　the　way　one　might　speak　to　someone　in　the　grip　of　a　transitory　but　dangerous　hysteria。　〃This　is　all　just　a　reaction　to　your　son's　death。　You　and　Ellie　are　both　reacting　strongly　to　that；　and　who　could　blame　you？　But　you'll　just　collapse　if　you　try　to…〃
　　Rachel　did　not　answer　him。　She　went　to　the　telephone　in　the　hall；　found　AIRLINES　in　the　Yellow　Pages　and　dialed　Delta's　number　while　Dory　stood　close　by；　telling　her　they　ought　to　just　think　about　this；　didn't　she　think；　they　ought　to　talk　about　it；　perhaps　make　a　list。　。　。　and　beyond　her　EWe　stood；　her　face　stifi　dark…　but　now　it　was　lit　by　enough　hope　to　give　Rachel　some　courage。
　　〃Delta　Airlines；〃　the　voice　on　the　other　end　said　brightly。　〃This　is　Kim；　may　I　help　you？〃
　　〃I　hope　so；〃　Rachel　said。　〃It's　extremely　important　that　I　get　from　Chicago　to　Bangor　tonight。　It's　。　。　。　it's　a　bit　of　an　emergency；　I'm　afraid。　Can　you　check　the　connections　for　me？〃
　　Dubiously：　〃Yes；　ma'am；　but　this　is　very　short　notice。〃
　　〃Well；　please　check；〃　Rachel　said；　her　voice　cracking　a　little。　〃I'll　take　standby；　anything。〃
　　〃All　right；　ma'am。　Please　hold。〃　The　line　became　smoothly　silent。
　　Rachel　closed　her　eyes；　and　after　a　moment　she　felt　a　cool　hand　on　her　arm。　She　opened　her　eyes　and　saw　that　Ellie　had　moved　next　to　her。　Irwin　and　Dory　stood　together；　t