sk.cujo-第43部分

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ple　lagoons；　that　mystic　call　drifting　through　the　suburban　streets　of　her　childhood；　talismanic　and　distant；　the　high　voice　of　a　child　announcing　suppers　that　were　ready；　doors　ready　to　be　shut　against　the　night：
'Alleee…alleee…infree！　Alleee…alleee…infree！'
The　dog　was　watching　her。　It　was　crazy；　but　she　could　no　longer　doubt　it。　Its　mad；　senseless　eyes　were　fixed　unhesitatingly　on　hers。
No；　you're　imagining　it。　It's　only　a　dog；　and　a　sick　dog　at　that。　Things　are　bad　enough　without　you　seeing　something　in　that　dog's　eyes　that　can't　be　there。
She　told　herself　that。　A　few　minutes　later　she　told　herself　that　Cujo's　eyes　were　like　the　eyes　of　some　portraits　which　seem　to　follow　you　wherever　you　move　in　the　room　where　they　are　hung。
But　the　dog　was　looking　at　her。　And　。。。　and　there　was　something　familiar　about　it。
No；　she　told　herself；　and　tried　to　dismiss　the　thought；　but　it　was　too　late
You've　seen　him　before；　haven't　you？　The　morning　after　Tad　bad　the　first　of　his　bad　dreams；　the　morning　that　the　blankets　and　sheets　were　back　on　the　chair；　his　Teddy　on　top　of　them；　and　for　a　moment　when　you　opened　the　closet　door　YOU　only　saw　a　slumped　shape　with　red　eyes；　something　in　Tad's　closet　ready　to　spring；　it　was　him；　it　was　Cujo；　Tad　was　right　all　along；　only　the　monster　wasn't　in　his　closet。。。　it　was　out　here。　It　was
（stop　it）
out　here　just　waiting　to
（！　YOU　STOP　IT　DONNA！）
She　stared　at　the　dog　and　imagined　she　could　bear　its　thoughts。　Simple　thoughts。　The　same　simple　pattern；　repeated　over　and　over　in　spite　of　the　whirling　boil　of　its　sickness　and　delirium。
Kill　THE　WOMAN　Kill　THE　BOYWOMAN。　Kill　THE　WOMAN　Kill　…Stop　it；　she　manded　herself　roughly。　It　doesn't　think　and　it's　not　some　goddamned　bogeyman　out　of　a　child's　closet。　It's　a　sick　dog　and　that's　all　it　is。　Next　you'll　believe　the　dog　is　God's　punishment　for　mitting　
Cujo　suddenly　got　up　…almost　as　if　she　had　called　him　…　and　disappeared　into　the　barn　again。
（almost　as　if　I　called　it）
She　uttered　a　shaky；　semi…hysterical　laugh。
Tad　looked　up。　'Mommy？'
'Nothing；　hon。'
She　looked　at　the　dark　maw　of　the　garage…barn；　then　at　the　back　door　of　the　house。　Locked？　Unlocked？　Locked？　Unlocked？　She　thought　of　a　coin　rising　in　the　air；　flipping　over　and　over。　She　thought　of　whirling　the　chamber　drum　of　a　pistol；　five　holes　empty；　one　full。　Locked？　Unlocked
The　sun　went　down；　and　what　was　left　of　the　day　was　a　white　line　painted　on　the　western　horizon。　It　looked　no　thicker　than　the　white　stripe　painted　down　the　center　of　the　highway。　That　would　be　gone　soon　enough。　Crickets　sang　in　the　high　grass　to　the　right　of　the　driveway；　making　a　mindlessly　cheerful　rickety…rickety　sound。
Cujo　was　still　in　the　barn。　Sleeping？　she　wondered。　Eating？
That　made　her　remember　that　she　had　packed　them　some　food。　She　crawled　between　the　two　front　buckets　and　got　the　Snoopy　lunchbox　and　her　own　brown　bag。　Her　Thermos　had　rolled　all　the　way　to　the　back；　probably　when　the　car　had　started　to　buck　and　jerk　ing　up　the　road。　She　had　to　stretch；　her　blouse　ing　untucked；　before　she　could　hook　it　with　her　fingers。　Tad；　who　had　been　in　a　half　doze；　stirred　awake。　His　voice　was　immediately　filled　with　a　sharp　fright　that　made　her　hate　the　damned　dog　even　more。
'Mommy？　Mommy？　What　are　you　…'
'…　Just　getting　the　food；'　she　soothed　him。　'And　my　Thermos　…see？'
'Okay。'　He　settled　back　into　his　seat　and　put　his　thumb　in　his　mouth　again。
She　shook　the　big　Thermos　gently　beside　her　ear；　listening　for　the　grating　sound　of　broken　glass。　She　only　heard　milk　swishing　around　inside。　That　was　something；　anyhow。
：Tad？　You　want　to　cat？'
I　want　to　take　a　nap；'　he　said　around　his　thumb；　not　opening　his　eyes。
'You　gotta　feed　the　machine；　chum；'　she　said。
He　didn't　even　smile。　'Not　hungry。　Sleepy。'
She　looked　at　him；　troubled；　and　decided　it　would　be　wrong　to　force　the　issue　any　further。　Sleep　was　Tad's　natural　weapon　…maybe　his　only　one　…　and　it　was　already　half　an　hour　past　his　regular　bedtime。　Of　course；　if　they　had　been　home；　he　would　have　had　a　glass　of　milk　and　a　couple　of　cookies　before　brushing　his　teeth　。。。　and　a　story；　one　of　his　Mercer　Mayer　books；　maybe　。。。　and　。。。
She　felt　the　hot　sting　of　tears　and　tried　to　push　all　those　thoughts　away。　She　opened　her　Thermos　with　shaky　hands　and　poured　herself　half　a　cup　of　milk。　She　set　it　on　the　dashboard　and　took　one　of　the　figbars。　After　one　bite　she　realized　she　was　absolutely　ravenous。　She　ate　three　more　figbars；　drank　some　milk；　popped　four　or　five　of　the　green　olives；　then　drained　her　cup。　She　burped　gently。。。　and　then　looked　more　sharply　at　the　barn。
There　was　a　darker　shadow　in　front　of　it　now。　Except　it　wasn't　just　a　shadow。　It　was　the　dog。　It　was　Cujo。
He's　standing　watch　over　us。
No；　she　didn't　believe　that。　Nor　did　she　believe　she　had　seen　a　vision　of　Cujo　in　a　pile　of　blankets　stacked　in　her　son's　closet。　She　didn't　。。。　except　。。。　except　part　of　her　did。　But　that　part　wasn't　in　her　mind。
She　glanced　up　into　the　rearview　mirror　at　where　the　road　was。　It　was　too　dark　now　to　see　it；　but　she　knew　it　was　there；　just　as　she　knew　that　nobody　was　going　to　go　by。　When　they　had　e　out　that　other　time　with　Vic's　Jag；　all　three　of　them　（the　dog　was　nice　then；　her　brain　muttered；　the　Tadder　patted　him　and　laughed；　remember？）；　laughing　it　up　and　having　a　great　old　time；　Vic　had　told　her　that　until　five　years　ago　the　Castle　Rock　Dump　had　been　out　at　the　end　of　Town　Road　No。　3。　Then　the　new　waste　treatment　plant　had　gone　into　operation　on　the　other　side　of　town；　and　now；　a　quarter　of　a　mile　beyond　the　Camber　place；　the　road　simply　ended　at　a　place　where　a　heavy　chain　was　strung　across　it。　The　sign　which　hung　from　the　chain　read　NO　TRESPASSING　DUMP　CLOSED。　Beyond　Cambers'；　there　was　just　no　place　to　go。
Donna　wondered　if　maybe　some　people　in　search　of　a　really　private　place　to　go　parking　might　not　ride　by；　but　she　couldn't　imagine　that　even　the　horniest　of　local　kids　would　want　to　neck　at　the　old　town　dump。　At　any　rate；　no　one　had　passed　yet。
The　white　line　on　the　western　horizon　had　faded　to　a　bare　afterglow　now　。　。　。　and　she　was　afraid　that　even　that　was　mostly　wishful　thinking。　There　was　no　moon。
Incredibly；　she　felt　drowsy　herself。　Maybe　sleep　was　her　natural　weapon；　too。　And　what　else　was　there　to　do？　The　dog　was　still　out　there　（at　least　she　thought　it　was；　the　darkness　had　gotten　just　deep　enough　to　make　it　hard　to　tell　if　that　was　a　real　shape　or　just　a　shadow）。　The　battery　had　to　rest。　Then　she　could　try　again。　So　why　not　sleep？
The　package　on　his　mailbox。　That　package　from　J。C。　Whitney。
She　sat　up　a　little　straighter；　a　puzzled　frown　creasing　her　brow。　She　turned　her　head；　but　from　here　the　front　corner　of　the　house　blocked　her　view　of　the　mailbox。　But　she　had　seen　the　package；　hung　from　the　front　of　the　box。　Why　had　she　thought　of　that？　Did　it　have　some　significance？
She　was　still　holding　the　Tupperware　dish　with　the　olives　and　slices　of　cucumbers　inside；　each　wrapped　neatly　in　Saran　Wrap。　Instead　of　eating　anything　else；　she　carefully　put　the　white　plastic　cover　on　the　Tupperware　dish　and　stowed　it　back　in　Tad's　lunchbox。　She　did　not　let　herself　think　much　about　why　she　was　being　so　careful　of　the　food。　She　settled　back　in　the　bucket　seat　and　found　the　lever　that　tipped　it　back。　She　meant　to　think　about　the　package　hooked　over　the　mailbox　…there　was　something　there；　she　was　almost　sure　of　it　…　but　soon　her　mind　had　slipped　away　to　another　idea；　one　that　took　on　the　bright　tones　of　reality　as　she　began　to　doze　off。
The　Cambers　had　gone　to　visit　relatives。　The　relatives　were　m　some　town　that　was　two；　maybe　three　hours'　drive　away。　Kennebunk；　maybe。　Or　Hollis。　Or　Augusta。　It　was　a　family　reunion。
Her　beginning…to…dream　mind　saw　a　gathering　of　fifty　people　or　more　on　a　green　lawn　of　TV…mercial　size　and　beauty。　There　was　a　fieldstone　barbecue　pit　with　a　shimmer　of　heat　over　it。　At　a　long　trestle　table　there　were　at　least　four　dozen　people；　passing　platters　of　corn　on　the　cob　and　dishes　of　home…baked　beans　…　pea　beans；　soldier　beans；　red　kidney　beans。　There　were　plates　of　barbecued　franks　（Donna's　stomach　made　a　low　goinging　sound　at　this　vision）。　On　the　table　was　a　homely　checked　tablecloth。　All　this　was　being　presided　over　by　a　lovely　old　woman　with　pu