sk.petsematary-第8部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　　SMUCKY　THE　CAT；　one　crate…board　marker　proclaimed。　The　hand　was　childish　but　careful。　HE　WAS　OBEDIANT。　And　below　this：　1971…1974。　A　little　way　around　the　outer　circle　he　came　to　a　piece　of　natural　slate　with　a　name　written　on　it　in　fading　but　perfectly　legible　red　paint：　BIFFER。　And　below　this　a　bit　of　verse：　BIFFER；　BIFFER。　A　HELLUVA　SNIFFER　/　UNTIL　HE　DIED　HE　MADE　US　RICHER。
　　〃Buffer　was　the　Desslers'　cocker　spaniel；〃　Jud　said。　He　had　dug　a　bald　place　in　the　earth　with　the　heel　of　his　shoe　and　was　carefully　tapping　all　his　ashes　into　it。　〃Got　run　over　by　a　dumpster　last　year。　Ain't　that　some　poime？〃
　　〃It　is；〃　Louis　agreed。　
　　Some　of　the　graves　were　marked　with　flowers；　some　fresh；　most　old；　not　a　few　almost　totally　deposed。　Over　half　of　the　painted　and　penciled　inscriptions　that　Louis　tried　to　read　had　faded　away　to　partial　or　total　illegibility。　Others　bore　no　discernible　mark　at　all；　and　Louis　guessed　that　the　writing　on　these　might　have　been　done　with　chalk　or　crayon。
　　〃Mom！〃　Ellie　yelled。　〃Here's　a　goldfishie！　e　and　see！〃
　　〃I'll　pass；〃　Rachel　said；　and　Louis　glanced　at　her。　She　was　standing　by　herself；　outside　the　outermost　circle；　looking　more　unfortable　than　ever。　Louis　thought：　Even　here　she's　upset。　She　never　had　been　easy　around　the　appearances　of　death　（not；　he　supposed；　that　anyone　really　was）；　probably　because　of　her　sister。　Rachel's　sister　had　died　very　young；　and　it　had　left　a　scar　which　Louis　had　learned　early　in　their　marriage　not　to　touch。　Her　name　had　been　Zelda；　and　her　death　had　been　from　spinal　meningitis。　Her　mortal　Illness　had　probably　been　long　and　painful　and　ugly；　and　Rachel　would　have　been　at　an　impressionable　age。　If　she　Wanted　to　forget　it；　he　thought　there　could　be　no　harm　in　that。
　　Louis　tipped　her　a　wink；　and　Rachel　smiled　gratefully　at　him。
　　Louis　looked　up。　They　were　in　a　natural　clearing。　He　supposed　that　explained　how　well　the　grass　did；　the　sun　could　get　through。　Nevertheless　it　would　have　taken　watering　and　careful　tending。　That　meant　cans　of　water　lugged　up　here　or　maybe　Indian　pumps　even　heavier　than　Gage　in　his　Gerrypack　carried　on　small　backs。　He　thought　again　that　it　was　an　odd　thing　for　children　to　have　kept　up　for　so　long。　His　own　memory　of　childhood　enthusiasms；　reinforced　by　his　dealings　with　Ellie；　was　that　they　tended　to　bum　like　newsprint…fast。。。　hot　。　。　。　and　quick　to　die。
　　Moving　inward；　the　pet　graves　became　older；　fewer　and　fewer　of　the　inscriptions　could　be　read；　but　those　that　could　yielded　a　rough　timeline　extending　into　the　past。　Here　was　TRIXIE。　KILT　ON　THE　HIGHWAY　SEPT　15；　1968。　in　the　same　circle　was　a　wide　flat　board　planted　deep　in　the　earth。　Frost　and　thaw　had　warped　it　and　canted　it　to　one　side；　but　Louis　could　still　make　Out　IN　MEMORY　OF　MARTA　OUR　PET　RABIT　DYED　MARCH　1　1965。　A　row　farther　in　was：　GEN。　PATTON　（OUR！　GOOD！　DOG！　the　inscription　amplified）；　who　had　died　in　1958；　and　POLYNESIA　（who　would　have　been　a　parrot；　if　Louis　remembered　his　Doctor　Doolittle　correctly）；　who　had　squawked　her　last　〃Polly　want　a　cracker〃　in　the　summer　of　1953。　There　was　nothing　readable　in　the　next　two　rows；　and　then；　still　a　long　way　in　from　the　center；　chiseled　roughly　on　a　piece　of　sandstone；　was　HANNAH　THE　BEST　DOG　THAT　EVER　LIVED　1929…1939。　Although　sandstone　was　relatively　soft…as　a　result　the　inscription　was　now　little　more　than　a　ghost…Louis　found　it　hard　to　conceive　of　the　hours　some　child　must　have　spent　impressing　those　nine　words　on　the　stone。　The　mitment　of　love　and　grief　seemed　to　him　staggering；　this　was　something　parents　did　not　even　do　for　their　own　parents　or　for　their　children　if　they　died　young。
　　〃Boy；　this　does　go　back　some；〃　he　said　to　Jud；　who　had　strolled　over　to　join　him。　
　　Jud　nodded。　〃e　here；　Louis。　Want　to　show　you　something。〃
　　They　walked　to　a　row　only　three　back　from　the　center。　Here　the　circular　pattern；　perceived　as　an　almost　haphazard　coincidence　in　the　outer　rows；　was　very　evident。　Jud　stopped　before　a　small　piece　of　slate　that　had　fallen　over。　Kneeling　carefully；　the　old　man　set　it　up　again。
　　〃Used　to　be　words　here；〃　Jud　said。　〃I　chiseled　em　myself；　but　it's　worn　away　now。　I　buried　my　first　dog　here。　Spot。　He　died　of　old　age　in　1914；　the　year　the　Great　War　begun。〃
　　Bemused　by　the　thought　that　here　was　a　graveyard　that　went　farther　back　than　many　graveyards　for　people；　Louis　walked　toward　the　center　and　examined　several　of　the　markers。　None　of　them　were　readable；　and　most　had　been　almost　reclaimed　by　the　forest　floor。　The　grass　had　almost　entirely　overgrown　one；　and　when　he　set　it　back　up；　there　was　a　small　tearing；　protesting　sound　from　the　earth。　Blind　beetles　scurried　over　the　section　he　had　exposed。　He　felt　a　small　chill　and　thought；　Boot　Hill　for　animals。　I'm　not　sure　I　really　like　it。
　　〃How　far　do　these　go　back？〃
　　〃Gorry；　I　don't　know；〃　Jud　said；　putting　his　hands　deep　in　his　pockets。　〃Place　was　here　when　Spot　died；　of　course。　I　had　a　whole　gang　of　friends　in　those　days。　They　helped　me　dig　the　hole　for　Spot。　Digging　here　ain't　that　easy；　either…　ground's　awful　stony；　you　know；　hard　to　turn。　And　I　helped　them　sometimes。〃　He　pointed　here　and　there　with　a　horny　finger。　〃That　there　was　Pete　LaVasseur's　dog；　if　I　remember　right；　and　there's　three　of　Albion　Groatley's　barncats　buried　right　in　a　row　there。
　　〃Old　Man　Fritchie　kept　racing　pigeons。　Me　and　Al　Groatley　and　Carl　Hannah　buried　one　of　them　that　a　dog　got。　He's　right　there。〃　He　paused　thoughtfully。　〃I'm　the　last　of　that　bunch　left；　you　know。　All　dead　now；　my　gang。　All　gone。〃
　　Louis　said　nothing；　only　stood　looking　at　the　pet　graves　with　his　hands　in　his　pockets。
　　〃Ground's　stony；〃　Jud　repeated。　〃Couldn't　plant　nothing　here　but　corpses　anyway；　I　guess。〃
　　Across　the　way；　Gage　began　to　cry　thinly；　and　Rachel　brought　him　over；　toting　him　oà　her　hip。　〃He's　hungry；〃　she　said。　〃I　think　we　ought　to　go　back；　Lou。〃　Please；　okay？　her　eyes　asked。
　　〃Sure；〃　he　said。　He　shouldered　the　Gerrypack　again　and　turned　around　so　Rachel　could　pop　Gage　in。　〃Ellie！　Hey　Ellie；　where　are　you？〃　
　　〃There　she　is；〃　Rachel　said　and　pointed　toward　the　blowdown。　Ellie　was　climbing　as　if　the　blowdown　was　a　bastard　cousin　to　the　monkeybars　at　school。　…
　　〃Oh；　honey；　you　want　to　e　dawn　off　there！〃　Jud　called　over；　alarmed。　〃You　stick　your　foot　in　the　wrong　hole　and　those　old　trees　shift；　you'll　break　your　ankle。〃
　　Ellie　jumped　down。　〃Ow！〃　she　cried　and　came　toward　them；　rubbing　her　hip。　The　skin　wasn't　broken；　but　a　stiff　dead　branch　had　torn　her　slacks。
　　〃You　see　what　I　mean；〃　Jud　said；　ruffling　her　hair。　〃Old　blowdown　like　this；　even　someone　wise　about　the　woods　won't　try　to　climb　over　it　if　he　can　go　around。　Trees　that　all　fall　down　in　a　pile　get　mean。　They'll　bite　you　if　they　can。〃
　　〃Really？〃　Ellie　asked。　〃Really。　They're　piled　up　like　straws；　you　see。　And　if　you　was　to　step　on　the　right　one；　they　might　all　e　down　in　an　avalanche。〃
　　Ellie　looked　at　Louis。　〃Is　that　true；　Daddy？〃　…
　　〃I　think　so；　hon。〃
　　〃Yuck！〃　She　looked　back　at　the　blowdown　and　yelled：
　　〃You　tore　my　pants；　you　cruddy　trees！〃
　　All　three　of　the　grown…ups　laughed。　The　blowdown　did　not。　It　merely　sat　whitening　in　the　sun　as　it　had　done　for　decades。　To　Louis　it　looked　like　the　skeletal　remains　of　some　long…dead　monster；　something　slain　by　a　parfait　good　and　gentil　knight；　perchance。　A　dragon's　bones；　left　here　in　a　giant　cairn。
　　It　occurred　to　him　even　then　that　there　was　something　too　Convenient　about　that　blowdown　and　the　way　it　stood　between　the　pet　cemetery　and　the　depths　of　woods　beyond；　woods　which　Jud　Crandall　later　sometimes　referred　to　absently　as　〃the　Indian　woods。〃　Its　very　randomness　seemed　too　artful；　too　perfect　for　a　work　of　nature。　It…　Then　Gage　grabbed　one　of　his　ears　and　twisted　it；　crowing　happily；　and　Louis　forgot　all　about　the　blowdown　in　the。　woods　beyond　the　pet　cemetery。　It　was　time　to　go　home。
　　　9
　　Ellie　came　to　him　the　next　day；　looking　troubled。　Louis　was　working　on　a　model　in　his　study。　This　one　was　a　1917　Rolls…Royce　Silver　Ghost…680　pieces；　over　50　moving　parts。　It　was　nearly　done；　and　be　could　almost　imagine　the　liveried　chauffeur；　direct　descendant　of　eighteenth…　and　nineteenth…century　English　coachmen；　si