sk.petsematary-第46部分

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　by　default…but　Rachel　was　gone。
　　The　afternoon　viewing　had　been　less　crowded；　and　after　half　an　hour　or　so；　Louis　had　gone　down　to　the　front　row　of　seats　and　sat　there　on　the　aisle；　aware　of　very　little　（only　peripherally　aware　of　the　cloying　stink　of　the　flowers）　except　the　fact　that　he　was　very　tired　and　sleepy。　It　was　only　partly　the　beer；　he　supposed。　His　mind　was　finally　ready　to　shut　down。　Probably　a　good　thing。　Perhaps；　after　twelve　or　sixteen　hours　of　sleep；　he　would　be　able　to　fort　Rachel　a　little。
　　After　a　while　his　head　had　sunk　until　he　was　looking　at　his　hands；　loosely　linked　between　his　knees。　The　hum　of　voices　near　the　back　was　soothing。　He　had　been　relieved　to　see　that　Irwin　and　Dory　weren't　here　when　the　four　of　them　returned　from　lunch；　but　he　should　have　known　their　continued　absence　was　too　good　to　be　true。
　　〃Where's　Rachel？〃　Louis　asked　now。
　　〃With　her　mother。　Where　she　should　be。〃　Goldman　spoke　with　the　studied　triumph　of　a　man　who　has　closed　a　big　deal。　There　was　Scotch　on　his　breath。　A　lot　of　it。　He　stood　before　Louis　like　a　banty　little　district　attorney　before　a　man　in　the　bar　of　justice；　a　man　who　is　patently　guilty。　He　was　unsteady　on　his　feet。
　　〃What　did　you　say　to　her？〃　Louis　said；　feeling　the　beginnings　of　alarm　now。　He　knew　Goldman　had　said　something。　It　was　in　the　man's　face。
　　〃Nothing　but　the　truth。　I　told　her　this　is　what　it　gets　you；　marrying　against　your　parents'　wishes。　I　told　her…〃
　　〃Did　you　say　that？〃　Louis　asked　incredulously。　〃You　didn't　really　say　that；　did　you？〃
　　〃That　and　more；〃　Irwin　Goldman　said；　〃I　always　knew　it　would　e　to　this…this　or　something　like　it。　I　knew　what　kind　of　a　man　you　were　the　first　time　I　saw　you。〃　He　leaned　forward；　exhaling　Scotch　fumes。　〃I　saw　through　you；　you　prancing　little　fraud　of　a　doctor。　You　enticed　my　daughter　into　a　stupid；　feckless　marriage　and　then　you　turned　her　into　a　scullery　maid　and　then　you　let　her　son　be　run　down　in　the　highway　like　a　。　。　。　a　chipmunk。〃
　　Most　of　this　went　over　Louis's　head。　He　was　still　groping　with　the　idea　that　this　stupid　little　man　could　have…　〃You　said　that　to　her？〃　he　repeated。　〃You　said　it？〃　〃I　hope　you　rot　in　hell！〃　Goldman　said；　and　heads　turned　sharply　toward　the　sound　of　his　voice。　Tears　began　to　squeeze　out　of　Irwin　Goldman's　bloodshot　brown　eyes。　His　bald　head　glowed　under　the　muted　fluorescent　lights。　〃You　made　my　wonderful　daughter　into　a　scullery　maid　。　。　。　destroyed　her　future　took　her　away。　。　。　and　let　my　grandson　die　a　dirty　death　in　a　country　road。〃
　　His　voice　rose　to　a　hectoring　scream。
　　〃Where　were　you？　Sitting　on　your　ass　while　he　was　playing　in　the　road？　Thinking　about　your　stupid　medical　articles？　What　were　you　doing；　you　shit？　You　stinking　shit！　Killer　of　children！
　　There　they　were。　There　they　were　at　the　front　of　the　East　Room。　There　they　were；　and　Louis　saw　his　arm　go　out。　He　saw　the　sleeve　of　his　suit　coat　pull　back　from　the　cuff　of　his　white　shirt。　He　saw　the　mellow　gleam　of　one　cufflink。　Rachel　had　given　him　the　set　for　their　third　wedding　anniversary；　never　knowing　that　her　husband　would　someday　wear　these　cufflinks　to　the　funeral　ceremonies　of　their　then…unborn　son。　His　fist　was　just　something　tied　to　the　end　of　his　arm。　It　connected　with　Goldman's　mouth。　He　felt　the　old　man's　lips　squash　and　splay　back。　It　was　a　sickening　feeling；　really…squashing　a　slug　with　your　fist　might　feel　something　like　that。　There　was　no　satisfaction　in　it。　Beneath　the　flesh　of　his　father…in…law's　lips　he　could　feel　the　stern；　unyielding　regularity　of　his　dentures。
　　Goldman　went　stumbling　backward。　His　arm　came　down　against　Gage's　coffin；　knocking　it　aslant。　One　of　the　vases；　top…heavy　with　flowers；　fell　over　with　a　crash。　Someone　screamed。
　　It　was　Rachel；　struggling　with　her　mother；　who　was　trying　to　hold　her　back。　The　people　who　were　there…ten　or　fifteen　in　all…　seemed　frozen　between　fright　and　embarrassment。　Steve　had　taken　Jud　back　to　Ludlow；　and　Louis　was　dimly　grateful　for　that。　This　was　not　a　scene　he　would　have　wished　Jud　to　witness。　It　was　unseemly。
　　〃Don't　hurt　him！〃　Rachel　screamed。　〃Louis；　don't　hurt　my　father！〃
　　〃You　like　to　hit　old　men；　do　you？〃　Irwin　Goldman　of　the　overflowing　checkbook　cried　out　shrilly。　He　was　grinning　through　a　mouthful　of　blood。　〃You　like　to　hit　old　men？　I　am　not　surprised；　you　stinking　bastard。　That　does　not　surprise　me　at　all。〃
　　Louis　turned　toward　him；　and　Goldman　struck　him　in　the　neck。　It　was　a　clumsy；　side…handed；　chopping　blow；　but　Louis　was　unprepared　for　it。　A　paralyzing　pain　that　would　make　it　hard　for　him　to　swallow　for　the　next　two　hours　exploded　in　his　throat。　His　head　rocked　back；　and　he　fell　to　one　knee　in　the　aisle。
　　First　the　flowers；　now　me；　he　thought。　What　is　it　the　Ramones　say？　Hey…ho；　let's　go！　He　thought　he　wanted　to　laugh；　but　there　was　no　laugh　in　him。　What　came　out　of　his　hurt　throat　was　a　little　groan。
　　Rachel　screamed　again。
　　Irwin　Goldman；　his　mouth　dripping　blood；　marched　over　to　where　his　son…in…law　kneeled　and　kicked　Louis　smartly　in　the　kidneys。　The　pain　was　a　bright　flare　of　agony。　He　put　his　hands　down　on　the　rug　runner　to　keep　from　going　flop　on　his　belly。
　　〃You　don't　do　so　good　even　against　old　men；　sonny！〃　Goldman　cried　with　cracked　excitement。　He　kicked　out　at　Louis　again；　missing　the　kidney　this　time；　getting　Louis　on　the　high　part　of　the　left　buttock　with　one　black　old　man's　shoe。　Louis　grunted　in　pain；　and　this　time　he　did　go　down　on　the　carpet。　His　chin　hit　with　an　audible　crack。　He　bit　his　tongue。
　　〃There！〃　Goldman　cried。　〃There's　the　kick　in　the　ass　I　should　have　given　you　the　first　time　you　came　sucking　around；　you　bastard。　There！〃　He　kicked　Louis　in　the　ass　again；　this　time　connecting　with　the　other　buttock。　He　was　weeping　and　grinning。　Louis　saw　for　the　first　time　that　Goldman　was　unshaven…a　sign　of　mourning。　The　funeral　director　raced　toward　them。　Rachel　had　broken　Mrs。　Goldman's　hold　and　was　also　racing　toward　them；　screaming。
　　Louis　rolled　clumsily　over　on　his　side　and　sat　up。　His　father…in…law　kicked　out　at　him　again　and　Louis　caught　his　shoe　in　both　hands…it　thwapped　solidly　into　his　palms　like　a　well…caught　football…and　shoved　backward　as　hard　as　he　could。
　　Bellowing；　Goldman　flew　backward　at　an　angle；　pinwheeling　his　arms　for　balance。　He　fell　on　Gage's　Eternal　Rest　casket；　which　had　been　manufactured　in　the　town　of　Storyville；　Ohio；　and　which　had　not　e　cheap。
　　Oz　the　Gweat　and　Tewwible　has　just　fallen　on　top　of　my　son's　coffin；　Louis　thought　dazedly。　The　casket　fell　from　the　trestle　with　a　huge　crash。　The　left　end　fell　first；　then　the　right。　The　latch　snapped。　Even　over　the　screams　and　the　crying；　even　over　the　bellows　of　Goldman；　who　after　all　was　only　playing　a　children's　party　game　of　Pin　the　Blame　on　the　Donkey；　Louis　heard　the　lock　snap。
　　The　coffin　did　not　actually　open　and　spill　Gage's　sad；　hurt　remains　out　onto　the　floor　for　all　of　them　to　gawp　at；　but　Louis　was　sickly　aware　that　they　had　only　been　spared　that　by　the　way　the　coffin　had　fallen…on　its　bottom　instead　of　on　its　side。　It　easily　could　have　fallen　that　other　way。　Nonetheless　in　that　split　instant　before　the　lid　slammed　shut　on　its　broken　latch　again；　he　saw　a　flash　of　gray…the　suit　they　had　bought　to　put　in　the　ground　around　Gage's　body。　And　a　bit　of　pink。　Gage's　hand；　maybe。
　　Sitting　there　on　the　floor；　Louis　put　his　face　in　his　hands　and　began　to　weep。　He　had　lost　all　interest　in　his　father…in…law；　in　the　MX　missile；　in　permanent　versus　dissolving　sutures；　in　the　heat　death　of　the　universe。　At　that　moment；　Louis　Creed　wished　he　were　dead。　And　suddenly；　weirdly；　an　image　rose　in　his　mind：
　　Gage　in　Mickey　Mouse　ears；　Gage　laughing　and　shaking　hands　with　a　great　big　Goofy　on　Main　Street；　in　Disney　World。　He　saw　this　with　utter　clarity。
　　One　of　the　trestle　supports　had　fallen　over；　the　other　leaned　with　drunken　casualness　against　the　low　dais　where　a　minister　might　stand　to　offer　a　eulogy。　Sprawled　in　the　flowers　was　Goldman；　also　weeping。　Water　from　the　overturned　vases　trickled。　The　flowers；　some　of　them　crushed　and　mangled；　gave　off　their　turgid　scent　even　more　strongly。
　　Rachel　was　screaming　and　screaming。
　　Louis　could　not　respond　to　her　screams。　The　image　of　Gage　in　Mickey　Mouse　ears　was　fading；　but　not　before　he　heard　a　voice　announcing　there　would　be　fireworks　later　that　evening。　He　sat　with　his　face　in　his　hands；　not　wanting　them　to　see　him　anymore；　his　tear…stained　face；　his　loss；　his　guilt；　his　pain；　his　shame；　most　of　all　his　cowardly　wish　to　be　dead　and　out　of　this　blackness。
　　The　funeral　director　and　Dory　Goldman　led　Rachel　out。　She　was　still　screaming。　Later　on；　in　another　room　（one　that　Louis　assumed　was　reserved　especially　for　those　overe　with　grief…　the　Hysterics'　Parlor；　perhaps）　she　became　very　silent。　Louis　himself；　dazed　but　sane　and　in　control；　sedated　her　this　time；　after　insisting　that　the　two　of　them　be　left　alone。
　　At　home　he　led　her　up　to　bed　and　gave　her　another　shot。　Then　he　pulled　the　covers　up　to　her　chin　and　regarded　her　waxy；　pallid　face。
　　〃Rachel；　I'm　sorry；〃　he　said。　〃I'd　give　anything　in　the　world　to　take　that　back。〃
　　〃It's　all　right；〃　she　said　in　a　strange；　flat　voice　and　then　rolled　over　on　her　side；　turning　away　from　him。
　　He　heard　the　tired　old　question　Are　you　all　right？　rising　to　his　lips　and　pushed　it　back。　It　wasn't　a　true　question；　it　wasn't　what　he　really　wanted　to　know。
　　〃How　bad　are　you？〃　he　asked　finally。
　　〃Pretty　bad；　Louis；〃　she　said　and　then　uttered　a　sound　that　could　have　been　a　laugh。　〃I　am　terrible；　in　fact。〃
　　Something　more　seemed　required；　but　Louis　could　not　supply　it。　He　felt　suddenly　resentful　of　her；　of　Steve　Masterton；　of　Missy　Dandridge　and　her　husband　with　his　arrowhead…shaped　adam's　apple；　of　the　whole　damned　crew。　Why　should　he　have　to　be　the　eternal　supplier？　What　sort　of　shit　was　that？
　　He　turned　off　the　light　and　left。　He　found　that　he　could　not　give　much　more　to　his　daughter。
　　For　one　wild　moment；　regarding　her　in　her　shadowy　room；　he　thought　she　was　Gage…the　thought　came　to　him　that　the　whole　thing　had　been　a　hideous　nightmare；　like　his　dream　of　Pascow　leading　him　into　the　woods；　and　for　a　moment　his　tired　mind　grasped　at　it。　The　shadows　helped…