sk.cujo-第57部分

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t　for　somebody　to　start　the　motor　again。　The　fact　was；　she　and　Tad　were　under　siege　by　dog。
Tad　was　sleeping。　If　the　dog　was　in　the　barn；　she　could　make　it　now。
But　if　it's　still　in　front　of　the　car？　Or　under　it？
She　remembered　something　her　father　used　to　say　sometimes　when　he　was　watching　the　pro　football　games　on　TV。　Her　dad　almost　always　got　tanked　for　these　occasions；　and　usually　ate　a　large　plate　of　cold　beans　left　over　from　Saturday…night　supper。　As　a　result；　the　TV　room　was　uninhabitable　for　normal　earth　fife　by　the　fourth　quarter；　even　the　dog　would　slink　out；　an　uneasy　deserter's　grin　on　its　face。
This　saying　of　her　father's　was　reserved　for　particularly　fine　tackles　and　intercepted　passes。　'He　laid　back　in　the　tall　bushes　on　that　one！'　her　father　would　cry。　It　drove　her　mother　crazy　。。。　but　by　the　time　Donna　was　a　teenager；　almost　everything　about　her　father　drove　her　mother　crazy。
She　now　had　a　vision　of　Cujo　in　front　of　the　Pinto；　not　sleeping　at　all　but　crouched　on　the　gravel　with　his　back　legs　coiled　under　him；　his　blood　shot　eyes　fixed　intently　on　the　spot　where　she　would　first　appear　if　she　left　the　car　on　the　driver's　side。　He　was　waiting　for　her；　hoping　she　would　be　foolish　enough　to　get　out。　He　was　laying　back　in　the　tall　bushes　for　her。
She　rubbed　both　hands　over　her　face　in　a　quick　and　nervous　washing　gesture。　Overhead；　Venus　now　peeked　out　of　the　darkening　blue。　The　sun　had　made　its；　exit；　leaving　a　still　but　somehow　crazed　yellow　light　over　the　fields。　Somewhere　a　bird　sang；　stopped；　then　sang　again。
It　came　to　her　that　she　was　nowhere　near　as　anxious　to　leave　the　car　and　run　for　the　door　as　she　had　been　that　afternoon。　Part　of　it　was　having　dozed　off　and　then　wakened　not　knowing　exactly　where　the　dog　was。　Part　of　it　was　the　simple　fact　that　the　heat　was　drawing　back　…　the　tormenting　beat　and　what　it　was　doing　to　Tad　had　been　the　biggest　thing　goading　her　to　make　a　move。　It　was　quite　fortable　in　the　car　now；　and　Tad's　half…lidded；　half…swooning　state　had　bee　a　real　sleep。　He　was　resting　fortably；　at　least　for　the　time　being。
But　she　was　afraid　those　things　were　secondary　to　the　main　reason　she　was　still　here　…　that；　little　by　little；　some　psychological　point　of　readiness　had　been　reached　and　passed。　She　remembered　from　her　childhood　diving　lessons　at　Camp　Tapawingo　that　there　came　an　instant；　that　first　time　on　the　high　board；　when　you　either　had　to　try　it　or　retreat　ignominiously　to　let　the　girl　behind　you　have　her　crack　at　it。　There　came　a　day　during　the　learning…to…drive　experience　when　you　finally　had　to　leave　the　empty　country　roads　behind　and　try　it　in　the　city。　There　came　a　time。　Always　there　came　a　time。　A　time　to　dive；　a　time　to　drive；　a　time　to　try　for　the　back　door。
Sooner　or　later　the　dog　would　show　itself。　The　situation　was　bad；　granted；　but　not　yet　desperate。　The　right　time　came　around　in　cycles　…　that　was　not　anything　she　had　been　taught　in　a　psychology　class；　it　was　something　she　knew　instinctively。　If　you　chickened　down　from　the　high　board　on　Monday；　there　was　no　law　that　said　you　couldn't　go　right　back　again　on　Tuesday。　You　could　
Reluctantly；　her　mind　told　her　that　was　a　deadly…false　bit　of　reasoning。
She　was　not　as　strong　tonight　as　she　had　been　last　night。　She　would　be　even　weaker　and　more　dehydrated　tomorrow　morning。　And　that　was　not　the　worst　of　it。　She　had　been　sitting　almost　all　the　time　for　…　how　long？　…　it　didn't　seem　possible；　but　it　was　now　some　twenty…eight　hours。　What　if　she　was　too　stiff　to　do　it？　What　if　she　got　halfway　to　the　porch　only　to　be　doubled　up　and　then　dropped　flopping　to　the　ground　by　charley　horses　in　the　big　muscles　of　her　thighs？
In　matters　of　life　and　death；　her　mind　told　her　implacably；　the　right　time　only　es　around　once　…　once　and　then　it's　gone。
Her　breathing　and　heart　rate　had　speeded　up。　Her　body　was　aware　she　was　going　to　make　the　try　before　her　mind　was。　Then　she　was　wrapping　her　shirt　more　firmly　about　her　right　hand；　her　left　hand　was　settling　on　the　doorhandle；　and　she　knew。　There　had　been　no　conscious　decision　she　was　aware　of；　suddenly　she　was　simply　going。　She　was　going　now；　while　Tad　slept　deeply　and　there　was　no　danger　he　would　bolt　out　after　her。
She　pulled　the　doorhandle　up；　her　hand　sweat…slick。　She　was　holding　her　breath；　listening　for　any　change　in　the　world。
The　bird　sang　again。　That　was　all。
If　he's　basked　the　door　too　far　out　of　shape　it　won't　even　Open；　she　thought。　That　would　be　a　kind　of　bitter　relief。　She　could　sit　back　then；　rethink　her　options；　see　if　there　was　anything　she　had　left　out　of　her　calculations　。。。　and　get　a　little　thirstier　。。。　a　little　weaker　。。。　a　little　slower。。。。
She　brought　pressure　to　bear　against　the　door；　slugging　her　left　shoulder　against　it；　gradually　settling　more　and　more　of　her　weight　upon　it。　Her　right　hand　was　sweating　inside　the　cotton　shirt。　Her　fist　was　so　tightly　clenched　that　the　fingers　ached。　Dimly；　she　could　feel　the　crescents　of　her　nails　biting　into　her　palm。　Over　and　over　in　her　mind's　eye　she　saw　herself　punching　through　the　glass　beside　the　knob　of　the　porch　door；　beard　the　tinkle　of　the　shards　striking　the　boards　inside；　saw　herself　reaching　for　the　handle　。。。
But　the　car　door　wasn't　opening。　She　shoved　as　hard　as　she　could；　straining；　the　cords　in　her　neck　standing　out。　But　it　wasn't　opening。　It　
Then　it　did　open；　all　of　a　sudden。　It　swung　wide　with　a　terrible　clunking　sound；　almost　spilling　her　out　on　all　fours。　She　grabbed　for　the　doorhandle；　missed；　and　grabbed　again。　She　held　the　handle；　and　suddenly　a　panicky　certainty　stole　into　her　mind。　It　was　as　cold　and　numbing　as　a　doctor's　verdict　of　inoperable　cancer。　She　had　gotten　the　door　open。　but　it　wouldn't　close　again。　The　dog　was　going　to　leap　in　and　kill　them　both。　Tad　would　have　perhaps　one　confused　moment　of　waking；　one　last　merciful　instant　in　which　to　believe　it　was　a　dream；　before　Cujo's　teeth　ripped　his　throat　open。
Her　breath　rattled　in　and　out；　quick　and　quick。　It　felt　like　hot　straw。　It　seemed　that　she　could　see　each　and　every　piece　of　gravel　in　the　driveway；　but　it　was　hard　to　think。　Her　thoughts　tumbled　wildly。　Scenes　out　of　her　past　zipped　through　the　foreground　of　her　mind　like　a　film　of　a　parade　which　had　been　speeded　up　until　the　marching　bands　and　horseback　riders　and　baton　twirlers　seemed　to　be　fleeing　the　scene　of　some　weird　crime。
The　garbage　disposal　regurgitating　a　nasty　
green　mess　all　over　the　kitchen　ceiling；　backing　
up　through　the　bar　sink。
Failing　off　the　back　porch　when　she　was　five　and　breaking　her　wrist。
Looking　down　at　herself　during　period　2　…　algebra　…　one　day　when　she　was　a　high　school　freshman　and　seeing　to　her　utter　shame　and　horror　that　there　were　spots　of　blood　on　her　light　blue　linen　skirt；　she　had　started　her　period；　how　was　she　elver　going　to　get　up　from　her　seat　when　the　bell　rang　without　everybody　seeing；　without　everyone　knowing　that　DonnaRose　was　having　her　period？
The　first　boy　she　had　ever　kissed　with　her　mouth　open。　Dwight　Sampson。
Holding　Tad　in　her　arms；　newborn；　then　the　nurse　taking　him　away；　she　wanted　to　tell　the　nurse　not　to　do　that　…　Give　him　back；　I'm　not　done　with　him；　those　were　the　words　that　had　e　to　mind　…　but　she　was　too　weak　to　talk　and　then　the　horrible；　squelching；　gutty　sound　of　the　afterbirth　ing　out　of　her；　she　remembered　thinking　I'm　puking　up　his　life…support　systems；　and　then　she　had　passed　out。
Her　father；　crying　at　her　wedding　and　then　getting　drunk　at　the　reception。
Faces。　Voices。　Rooms。　Scenes。　Books。　The　terror　of　this　moment；　thinking　I　AM　GOING　TO　DIE　…
With　a　tremendous　effort；　she　got　herself　under　some　kind　of　control。　She　got　the　Pinto's　doorhandle　in　both　hands　and　gave　it　a　tremendous　yank。　The　door　flew　shut。　There　was　that　clunk　again　as　the　hinge　Cujo　had　knocked　out　of　true　protested。　There　was　a　hefty　bang　when　the　door　slammed　dosed　that　made　Tad　jump　and　then　mutter　a　bit　in　his　sleep。
Donna　leaned　back　in　the　seat；　shaking　helplessly　all　over；　and　cried　silently。　Hot　tears　slipped　out　from　under　her　lids　and　ran　back　on　a　slant　toward　her　cars。　She　had　never　in　her　fife　been　so　afraid　of　anything；　not　even　in　her　room　at　night　when　she　was　little　and　it　had　seemed　to　her　that　there　were　spiders　everywhere。　She　could