sk.petsematary-第52部分

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omething　that　was　just　like　what　Timmy　Baterman　accused　him　of。　I　won't　tell　you　exactly　what　it　was…you　don't　need　to　know…but　misappropriation　of　town　funds　for　his　own　use　es　close　enough　to　cover　it；　I　reckon。　There　was　even　talk　of　trying　him　on　embezzlement　charges；　but　it　never　came　to　much。　Losing　the　post　was　enough　punishment　for　him　anyway；　his　whole　life　was　playing　the　big　cheese。
　　〃But　there　was　good　in　those　men　too。　That's　what　I　mean；　that's　what　folks　always　find　it　so　hard　to　remember。　It　was　Hannibal　got　the　fund　started　for　the　Eastern　General　Hospital；　right　before　the　war。　Alan　Purinton　was　one　of　the　most　generous；　open…handed　men　I　ever　knew。　And　old　George　Anderson　only　wanted　to　go　on　running　the　post　office　forever。
　　〃It　was　only　the　bad　it　wanted　to　talk　about　though。　It　was　only　the　bad　it　wanted　us　to　remember　because　it　was　bad　。　。　and　because　it　knew　we　meant　danger　for　it。　The　Timmy　Baterman　that　went　off　to　fight　the　war　was　a　nice；　ordinary　kid；　Louis；　maybe　a　little　dull　but　goodhearted。　The　thing　we　saw　that　night；　lookin　up　into　that　red　sun。　。　。　that　was　a　monster。　Maybe　it　was　a　zombie　or　a　dybbuk　or　a　demon。　Maybe　there's　no　name　for　such　a　thing　as　that；　but　the　Micmacs　would　have　known　what　it　was；　name　or　no。〃
　　〃What？〃　Louis　said　numbly。
　　〃Something　that　had　been　touched　by　the　Wendigo；〃　Jud　said　evenly。　He　took　a　deep　breath；　held　it　for　a　moment；　let　it　out；　and　looked　at　his　watch。
　　〃Welladay。　The　hour's　late；　Louis。　I've　talked　nine　times　as　much　as　I　meant　to。〃
　　〃I　doubt　that；〃　Louis　said。　〃You've　been　very　eloquent。　Tell　me　how　it　came　out。〃
　　〃There　was　a　fire　at　the　Baterman　place　two　nights　later；〃　Jud　said。　〃The　house　burned　flat。　Alan　Purinton　said　there　was　no　doubt　about　the　fire　being　set。　Range　oil　had　been　splashed　from　one　end　of　that　little　house　to　the　other。　You　could　smell　the　reek　of　it　for　three　days　after　the　fire　was　out。〃
　　〃So　they　both　burned　up。〃
　　〃Oh；　ayuh；　they　burned。　But　they　was　dead　beforehand。　Timmy　was　shot　twice　in　the　chest　with　a　pistol　Bill　Baterman　kept　handy；　an　old　Colt's。　They　found　it　in　Bill's　hand。　What　he'd　done；　or　so　it　looked　like；　was　to　kill　his　boy；　lay　him　on　the　bed；　and　then　spill　out　that　range　oil。　Then　he　sat　down　in　his　easy　chair　by　the　radio；　flicked　a　match；　and　ate　the　barrel　of　that　Colt
　　。45。〃
　　〃Jesus；〃　Louis　said。
　　〃They　were　pretty　well　charred；　but　the　county　medical　examiner　said　it　looked　to　him　like　Timmy　Baterman　had　been　dead　two　or　three　weeks。〃
　　Silence；　ticking　out。
　　Jud　got　up。　〃I　wasn't　exaggerating　when　I　said　I　might　have　killed　your　boy；　Louis；　or　had　a　hand　in　it。　The　Micmacs　knew　that　place；　but　that　doesn't　necessarily　mean　they　made　it　what　it　was。　The　Micmacs　weren't　always　here。　They　came　maybe　from　Canada；　maybe　from　Russia；　maybe　from　Asia　way　back　in　the　beginning。　They　stayed　here　in　Maine　for　a　thousand　years；　or　maybe　it　was　two　thousand…it's　hard　to　tell；　because　they　did　not　leave　their　mark　deep　on　the　land。　And　now　they　are　gone　again
　　。　。　same　way　we'll　be　gone；　someday；　although　I　guess　our　mark　　will　go　deeper；　for　better　or　worse。　But　the　place　will　stay　no　matter　who's　here；　Louis。　It　isn't　as　though　someone　owned　it　and　could　take　its　secret　when　they　moved　on。　It's　an　evil；　curdled　place；　and　I　had　no　business　taking　you　up　there　to　bury　that　cat。　I　know　that　now。　It　has　a　power　you'll　beware　of　if　you　know　what's　good　for　your　family　and　what's　good　for　you。　I　wasn't　strong　enough　to　fight　it。　You　saved　Norma's　life；　and　I　wanted　to　do　something　for　you；　and　that　place　turned　my　good　wish　to　its　own　evil　purpose。　It　has　a　power。　。　。　and　I　think　that　power　goes　through　phases；　same　as　the　moon。　It's　been　full　of　power　before；　and　I'm　ascared　it's　ing　around　to　full　again。　I'm　ascared　it　used　me　to　get　at　you　through　your　son。　Do　you　see；　Louis；　what　I'm　getting　at？〃　His　eyes　pleaded　with　Louis。
　　〃You're　saying　the　place　knew　Gage　was　going　to　die；　I　think；〃　Louis　said。
　　〃No；　I　am　saying　the　place　might　have　made　Gage　die　because　I　introduced　you　to　the　power　in　the　place。　I　am　saying　I　may　have　murdered　your　son　with　good　intentions；　Louis。〃
　　〃I　don't　believe　it；〃　Louis　said　at　last；　shakily。　Didn't；　wouldn't。　Couldn't。
　　He　held　Jud's　hand　tightly。　〃We're　burying　Gage　tomorrow。　In　Bangor。　And　in　Bangor　he　will　stay。　I　don't　plan　to　go　up　there　to　the　Pet　Sematary　or　beyond　it　ever　again。〃
　　〃Promise　me！〃　Jud　said　harshly。　〃Promise。〃
　　〃I　promise；〃　Louis　said。
　　But　in　the　back　of　his　mind；　contemplation　remained…a　dancing　flicker　of　promise　that　would　not　quite　go　away。
　　　40
　　But　none　of　those　things　happened。
　　All　of　them…the　droning　Orinco　truck；　the　fingers　that　just　touched　the　back　of　Cage's　jumper　and　then　slid　off；　Rachel　preparing　to　go　to　the　viewing　in　her　housecoat；　Ellie　carrying　Gage's　picture　and　putting　his　chair　next　to　her　bed；　Steve　Masterton's　tears；　the　fight　with　Irwin　Goldman；　Jud　Crandall's　terrible　story　of　Timmy　Baterman…all　of　them　existed　only　in　Louis　Creed's　mind　during　the　few　seconds　that　passed　while　he　raced　his　laughing　son　to　the　road。　Behind　him；　Rachel　screamed　again
　　…Gage；　e　back；　don't　RUN！…but　Louis　did　not　waste　his　breath。　It　was　going　to　be　close；　very　close；　and　yes；　one　of　those　things　really　happened：　from　somewhere　up　the　road　he　could　hear　the　drone　of　the　oning　truck　and　somewhere　inside　a　memory　circuit　opened　and　he　could　hear　Jud　Crandall　speaking　to　Rachel　on　that　very　first　day　in　Ludlow：　You　want　to　watch　em　around　the　road；　Missus　Greed。　It's　a　bad　road　for　kids　and　pets。
　　Now　Gage　was　running　down　the　gentle　slope　of　lawn　that　merged　with　the　soft　shoulder　of　Route　15；　his　husky　little　legs　pumping；　and　by　all　the　rights　of　the　world　he　should　have　fallen　over　sprawling　but　he　just　kept　going　and　now　the　sound　of　the　truck　was　very　loud　indeed；　it　was　that　low；　snoring　sound　that　Louis　sometimes　heard　from　his　bed　as　he　floated　just　beyond　the　rim　of　sleep。　Then　it　seemed　a　forting　sound；　but　now　it　terrified　him。
　　Oh　my　dear　God　oh　my　dear　Jesus　let　me　catch　him　don't　let　him　get　into　the　road！
　　Louis　put　on　a　final　burst　of　speed　and　leaped；　throwing　himself　out　straight　and　parallel　to　the　ground　like　a　football　player　about　to　make　a　tackle；　he　could　see　his　shadow　tracking　along　on　the　grass　below　him　in　the　lowest　periphery　of　his　vision；　and　he　thought　of　the　kite；　the　Vulture；　printing　its　shadow　all　the　way　across　Mrs。　Vinton's　field；　and　just　as　Gage's　forward　motion　carried　him　into　the　road；　Louis's　fingers　brushed　the　back　of　his　jacket。　。　。　and　then　snagged　it。
　　He　yanked　Gage　backward　and　landed　on　the　ground　at　the　same　instant；　crashing　his　face　into　the　rough　gravel　of　the　shoulder；　giving　himself　a　bloody　nose。　His　balls　signaled　a　much　more　serious　flash　of　pain…Ohhh；　if　l'd'a　known　I　was　gonna　be　playing　football；　I　woulda　worn　my　jock…but　both　the　pain　in　his　nose　and　the　driving　agony　in　his　testes　were　lost　in　the　swelling　relief　of　hearing　Gage's　wail　of　pain　and　outrage　as　his　bottom　landed　on　the　shoulder　and　he　fell　over　backward　onto　the　edge　of　the　lawn；　thumping　his　head。　A　moment　later　his　wails　were　drowned　by　the　roar　of　the　passing　truck　and　the　almost　regal　blat　of　its　air　horn。
　　Louis　managed　to　get　up　in　spite　of　the　lead　ball　sitting　in　his　lower　stomach　and　cradled　his　son　in　his　arms。　A　moment　later
　　Rachel　joined　them；　also　weeping；　crying　out　to　Gage；　〃Never　run　in　the　road；　Gage！　Never；　never；　never！　The　road　is　bad！　Bad！〃　And　Gage　was　so　astonished　at　this　tearful　lecture　that　he　left　off　crying　and　goggled　up　at　his　mother。
　　〃Louis；　your　nose　is　bleeding；〃　she　said　and　then　hugged　him　so　suddenly　and　strongly　that　for　a　moment　he　could　barely　breathe。
　　〃That　isn't　the　worst　of　it；〃　he　said。　〃I　think　I'm　sterile；　Rachel。　Oh　boy；　the　pain。〃
　　And　she　laughed　so　hysterically　that　for　a　few　moments　he　was　frightened　for　her；　and　the　thought　crossed　his　mind：　If　Gage　really　had　been　killed；　I　believe　it　would　have　driven　her　crazy。
　　But　Gage　was　not　killed；　all　of　that　had　only　been　a　hellishly　detailed　moment　of　imagination　as　Louis　outraced　his　son's　death　across　a　green　lawn　on　a　sunshiny　May　afternoon。
　　Gage　went　to　grammar　school；　and　at　the　age　of　seven　he　began　going　to　camp；　where　he　showed　a　wonderful　and　surprising　aptitude　for　swimming。　He　also　gave　his　parents　a　rather　glum　surprise　by　proving　himself　able　to　handle　a　month's　separation　with　no　noticeable　psychic　trauma。　By　the　time　he　was　ten；　he　was　spending　the　entire　summer　away　at　Camp　Agawam　in　Raymond；　and　at　eleven　he　won　two　blue　ribbons　and　a　red　one　at　the　Four　Camps　Swimathon　that　ended　the　summer's　activities。　He　grew　tall；　and　yet　through　it　all　he　was　the　same　Gage；　sweet　and　rather　surprised　at　the　things　the　world　held　out　and　for　Gage；　the　fruit　was　somehow　never　bitter　or　rotten。
　　He　was　an　honors　student　in　high　school　and　a　member　of　the　swimming　team　at　John　Bapst；　the　parochial　school　he　had　insisted　on　attending　because　of　its　swimming　facilities。　Rachel　was　upset；　Louis　not　particularly　surprised　when；　at　seventeen；　Gage　announced　his　intention　to　convert　to　Catholicism。　Rachel　believed　that　all　of　it　was　because　of　the　girl　Gage　was　going　out　with；　she　saw　marriage　in　his　immediate　future　（〃if　that　little　slut　with　the　St。　Christopher's　medal　isn't　balling　him；　I'll　eat　your　shorts；　Louis；〃　she　said）；　the　wreckage　of　his　college　plans　and　his　Olympic　hopes；　and　nine　or　ten　little　Catholics　running　around　by　the　time　Gage　was　forty。　By　then　he　would　be　（according　to　Rachel；　anyway）　a　cigar…smoking　truck　driver　with　a　beer　belly；　Our…Fathering　and　Hail…Marying　his　way　into　precardiac　oblivion。
　　Louis　suspected　his　son's　motives　were　rather　more　pure；　and　although　Gage　converted　（and　on　the　day　he　actually　did　the　deed；　Louis　sent　an　unabashedly　nasty　postcard　to　Irwin　Goldman；　it　read；　Perhaps　you'll　have　a　Jesuit　grandson　yet。　Your　goy　son…in…law；　Louis）；　he　did　not　marry　the　rather　nice　（and　decidedly　unslutty）　girl　he　had　dated　through　most　of　his　senior　year。
　　He　went　on　to　Johns　Hopkins；　made　the　Olympic　swimming　team；　and　on　one　long；　dazzling；　and　incredi