sk.petsematary-第94部分

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　　〃Louis；　are　you　there？〃
　　〃Is　she　going　to　be　all　right？〃　Louis　asked；　his　own　voice　distant。　〃Is　Ellie　going　to　be　all　right？　Did　you　get　a　prognosis？〃
　　〃Delayed　shock　from　the　funeral；〃　Goldman　said。　〃My　own　doctor　came。　Lathrop。　A　good　man。　Said　she　had　a　degree　of　fever　and　that　when　she　woke　up　this　afternoon；　she　might　not　even　remember。　But　I　think　Rachel　should　e　back。　Louis；　I　am　frightened。　I　think　you　should　e　back　too。〃
　　Louis　did　not　respond。　The　eye　of　God　was　on　the　sparrow；　so　said　good　King　James。　Louis；　however；　was　a　lesser　being；　and　his　eye　was　on　those　muddy　footprints。
　　〃Louis；　Gage　is　dead；〃　Goldman　was　saying。　〃I　know　that　must　be　hard　to　accept…for　you　and　Rachel　both…but　your　daughter　is　very　much　alive；　and　she　needs　you。〃
　　Yes；　I　accept　that。　You　may　be　a　stupid　old　fart；　Irwin；　but　perhaps　the　nightmare　that　passed　between　your　two　daughters　on　that　April　day　in　1965　taught　you　something　about　sensitivity。
　　She　needs　me；　but　I　can't　e；　because　I'm　afraid…so　terribly　afraid…that　my　hands　are　filthy　with　her　mother's　blood。
　　Louis　regarded　those　hands。　Louis　regarded　the　dirt　under　his　nails；　which　was　so　like　the　dirt　which　prised　those　footprints　on　the　kitchen　floor。
　　〃All　right；〃　he　said；　〃I　understand。　We'll　be　there　as　soon　as　we　can；　Irwin。　By　tonight；　if　that's　possible。　Thank　you。〃
　　〃We　did　the　best　we　could；〃　Goldman　said。　〃Maybe　we're　too　old。　Maybe；　Louis；　maybe　we　always　were。〃
　　〃Did　she　say　anything　else？〃　Louis　asked。
　　Goldman's　reply　was　like　the　toll　of　a　funeral　bell　against　the　wall　of　his　heart。　〃A　lot；　but　only　one　other　thing　I　could　make　out：　'Paxcow　says　it's　too　late。〃
　　He　hung　up　the　telephone　and　moved　back　toward　the　stove　in　a　daze；　apparently　meaning　to　continue　on　with　breakfast　or　put　the　things　away；　he　didn't　know　which；　and　about　halfway　across　the　kitchen　a　wave　of　faintness　poured　over　him；　floating　gray　overcame　his　sight；　and　he　swooned　to　the　floor…〃swoon〃　was　the　right　word　because　it　seemed　to　take　forever。　He　fell　down　and　down　through　cloudy　depths；　it　seemed　to　him　that　he　turned　over　and　over；　looped　the　loop；　did　a　dipsy　doodle　or　two；　slipped　an　Immelmann。　Then　he　struck　on　his　bad　knee　and　the　chromium　bolt　of　pain　through　his　head　brought　him　back　with　a　scream　of　agony。　For　a　moment　he　could　only　crouch；　the　tears　starting　from　his　eyes。
　　At　last　he　made　it　back　to　his　feet　and　stood　there；　swaying。　But　his　head　was　clear　again。　That　was　something。　wasn't　it？
　　The　urge　to　flee　came　on　him　again　for　the　last　time；　stronger　than　ever…he　actually　felt　the　forting　bulge　of　his　car　keys　in　his　pocket。　He　would　get　in　the　Civic　and　drive　to　Chicago。　He　would　get　Ellie　and　go　on　from　there。　Of　course　by　then　Goldman　would　know　something　was　wrong；　that　something　was　dreadfully　amiss；　but　he　would　get　her　anyway。　。　。　snatch　her；　if　he　had　to。
　　Then　his　hand　fell　away　from　the　bulge　of　the　keys。　What　killed　the　urge　was　not　a　sense　of　futility；　not　guilt；　not　despair　or　the　deep　weariness　inside　him。　It　was　the　sight　of　those　muddy　footprints　on　the　kitchen　floor。　In　his　mind's　eye　he　could　see　them　tracing　a　path　across　the　entire　country…first　to　Illinois；　then　to　Florida…across　the　entire　world；　if　necessary。　What　you　bought；　you　owned；　and　what　you　owned　eventually　came　home　to　you。
　　There　would　e　a　day　when　he　would　open　a　door　and　there　would　be　Gage；　a　demented　parody　of　his　former　self；　grinning　a　sunken　grin；　his　clear　blue　eyes　gone　yellow　and　smart…stupid。　Or　Ellie　would　open　the　bathroom　door　for　her　morning　shower；　and　there　would　be　Gage　in　the　tub；　his　body　crisscrossed　with　the　faded　scars　and　bulges　of　his　fatal　accident；　clean　but　stinking　of　the　grave。
　　Oh　yes；　that　day　would　e…he　didn't　doubt　it　a　bit。
　　〃How　could　I　have　been　so　stupid？〃　he　said　to　the　empty　room；　talking　to　himself　again；　not　caring。　〃How？〃
　　Grief；　not　stupidity；　Louis。　There　is　a　difference。　。　。　small；　but　vital。　The　battery　that　burying　ground　survives　on。　Growing　in　power；　Jud　said；　and　of　course　he　was　right…and　you're　part　of　its　power　now。　It　has　fed　on　your　grief。　。　。　no；　more　than　that。　It's　doubled　it；　cubed　it；　raised　it　to　the　nth　power。　And　it　isn't　just　grief　it　feeds　on。　Sanity。　It's　eaten　your　sanity。　The　flaw　is　only　the　inability　to　accept；　not　unmon。　It's　cost　you　your　wife；　and　it's　almost　surely　cost　you　your　best　friend　as　well　as　your　son。　This　is　it。　What　es　when　you're　too　slow　wishing　away　the　thing　that　knocks　on　your　door　in　the　middle　of　the　night　is　simple　enough：　total　darkness。
　　I　would　mit　suicide　now；　he　thought；　and　I　suppose　it's　in　the　cards；　isn't　it？　I　have　the　equipment　in　my　bag。　It　has　managed　everything；　managed　it　from　the　first。　The　burying　ground；　the　Wendigo；　whatever　it　is。　It　forced　our　cat　into　the　road；　and　perhaps　it　forced　Gage　into　the　road　as　well；　it　brought　Rachel　home；　but　only　in　its　own　good　time。　Surely　I'm　meant　to　do　that　and　I　want　to。
　　But　things　have　to　be　put　right；　don't　they？
　　Yes。　They　did。
　　There　was　Gage　to　think　about。　Gage　was　still　out　there。　Somewhere。
　　He　followed　the　footprints　through　the　dining　room　and　the　living　room　and　back　up　the　stairs。　They　were　smudged　there　because　he　had　walked　over　them　on　his　way　down　without　seeing　them。　They　led　into　the　bedroom。　He　was　here；　Louis　thought　wonderingly；　he　was　right　here；　and　then　he　saw　that　his　medical　bag　was　unsnapped。
　　The　contents　inside；　which　he　always　arranged　with　careful　neatness；　were　now　in　jumbled　disorder。　But　it　did　not　take　Louis　long　to　see　that　his　scalpel　was　missing；　and　he　put　his　hands　over　his　face　and　sat　that　way　for　some　time；　a　faint；　despairing　noise　ing　from　his　throat。
　　At　last　he　opened　the　bag　again　and　began　to　look　through　it。
　　Downstairs　again。
　　The　sound　of　the　pantry　door　being　opened。　The　sound　of　a　cupboard　being　opened；　then　slammed　shut。　The　busy　whine　of　the　can　opener。　Last　the　sound　of　the　garage　door　opening　and　closing。　And　then　the　house　stood　empty　in　the　May　sunshine；　as　it　had　stood　empty　on　that　August　day　the　year　before；　waiting　for　the　new　people　to　arrive　。　。　。　as　it　would　wait　for　other　new　people　to　arrive　at　some　future　date。　A　young　married　couple　perhaps；　with　no　children　（but　with　hopes　and　plans）。　Bright　young　marrieds　with　a　taste　for　Mondavi　wine　and　L？wenbr？u　beer…he　would　be　in　charge　of　the　Northeast　Bank's　credit　department　perhaps；　she　with　a　dental　hygienist's　credential　or　maybe　three　years'　experience　as　an　optometrist's　assistant。　He　would　split　half　a　cord　of　wood　for　the　fireplace；　she　would　wear　high…waisted　corduroy　pants　and　walk　in　Mrs。　Vinton's　field；　collecting　November's　fall　grasses　for　a　table　centerpiece；　her　hair　in　a　ponytail；　the　brightest　thing　under　the　gray　skies；　totally　unaware　that　an　invisible　Vulture　rode　the　air　currents　overhead。　They　would　congratulate　themselves　on　their　lack　of　superstition；　on　their　hardheadedness　in　snaring　the　house　in　spite　of　its　history…they　would　tell　their　friends　that　it　had　been　firesale…priced　and　joke　about　the　ghost　in　the　attic；　and　all　of　them　would　have　another　L？wenbr？u　or　another　glass　of　Mondavi；　and　they　would　play　backgammon　or　Mile　Bourne。
　　And　perhaps　they　would　have　a　dog。
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　　Louis　paused　on　the　soft　shoulder　to　let　an　Orinco　truck　loaded　with　chemical　fertilizer　blast　by　him；　and　then　he　crossed　the　street　to　Jud's　house；　trailing　his　shadow　to　the　west　behind　him。　He　held　an　open　can　of　Cab　catfood　in　one　hand。
　　Church　saw　him　ing　and　sat　up；　his　eyes　watchful。
　　〃Hi；　Church；〃　Louis　said；　surveying　the　silent　house。　〃Want　some　grub？〃
　　He　put　the　can　of　catfood　down　on　the　trunk　of　the　Chevette　and　watched　as　Church　leaped　lightly　down　from　its　roof　and　began　to　eat。　Louis　put　his　hand　in　his　jacket　pocket。　Church　looked　around　at　him；　tensing；　as　if　reading　his　mind。　Louis　smiled　and　stepped　away　from　the　car。　Church　began　to　eat　again；　and　Louis　took　a　syringe　from　his　pocket。　He　stripped　the　paper　covering　from　it　and　filled　it　with　75　milligrams　of　morphine。　He　put　the　multidose　vial　back　in　his　jacket　and　walked　over　to　Church；　who　looked　around　again　mistrustfully。　Louis