sk.petsematary-第7部分

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　　〃Used　to　be　words　here；〃　Jud　said。　〃I　chiseled　em　myself；　but　it's　worn　away　now。　I　buried　my　first　dog　here。　Spot。　He　died　of　old　age　in　1914；　the　year　the　Great　War　begun。〃
　　Bemused　by　the　thought　that　here　was　a　graveyard　that　went　farther　back　than　many　graveyards　for　people；　Louis　walked　toward　the　center　and　examined　several　of　the　markers。　None　of　them　were　readable；　and　most　had　been　almost　reclaimed　by　the　forest　floor。　The　grass　had　almost　entirely　overgrown　one；　and　when　he　set　it　back　up；　there　was　a　small　tearing；　protesting　sound　from　the　earth。　Blind　beetles　scurried　over　the　section　he　had　exposed。　He　felt　a　small　chill　and　thought；　Boot　Hill　for　animals。　I'm　not　sure　I　really　like　it。
　　〃How　far　do　these　go　back？〃
　　〃Gorry；　I　don't　know；〃　Jud　said；　putting　his　hands　deep　in　his　pockets。　〃Place　was　here　when　Spot　died；　of　course。　I　had　a　whole　gang　of　friends　in　those　days。　They　helped　me　dig　the　hole　for　Spot。　Digging　here　ain't　that　easy；　either…　ground's　awful　stony；　you　know；　hard　to　turn。　And　I　helped　them　sometimes。〃　He　pointed　here　and　there　with　a　horny　finger。　〃That　there　was　Pete　LaVasseur's　dog；　if　I　remember　right；　and　there's　three　of　Albion　Groatley's　barncats　buried　right　in　a　row　there。
　　〃Old　Man　Fritchie　kept　racing　pigeons。　Me　and　Al　Groatley　and　Carl　Hannah　buried　one　of　them　that　a　dog　got。　He's　right　there。〃　He　paused　thoughtfully。　〃I'm　the　last　of　that　bunch　left；　you　know。　All　dead　now；　my　gang。　All　gone。〃
　　Louis　said　nothing；　only　stood　looking　at　the　pet　graves　with　his　hands　in　his　pockets。
　　〃Ground's　stony；〃　Jud　repeated。　〃Couldn't　plant　nothing　here　but　corpses　anyway；　I　guess。〃
　　Across　the　way；　Gage　began　to　cry　thinly；　and　Rachel　brought　him　over；　toting　him　oà　her　hip。　〃He's　hungry；〃　she　said。　〃I　think　we　ought　to　go　back；　Lou。〃　Please；　okay？　her　eyes　asked。
　　〃Sure；〃　he　said。　He　shouldered　the　Gerrypack　again　and　turned　around　so　Rachel　could　pop　Gage　in。　〃Ellie！　Hey　Ellie；　where　are　you？〃　
　　〃There　she　is；〃　Rachel　said　and　pointed　toward　the　blowdown。　Ellie　was　climbing　as　if　the　blowdown　was　a　bastard　cousin　to　the　monkeybars　at　school。　…
　　〃Oh；　honey；　you　want　to　e　dawn　off　there！〃　Jud　called　over；　alarmed。　〃You　stick　your　foot　in　the　wrong　hole　and　those　old　trees　shift；　you'll　break　your　ankle。〃
　　Ellie　jumped　down。　〃Ow！〃　she　cried　and　came　toward　them；　rubbing　her　hip。　The　skin　wasn't　broken；　but　a　stiff　dead　branch　had　torn　her　slacks。
　　〃You　see　what　I　mean；〃　Jud　said；　ruffling　her　hair。　〃Old　blowdown　like　this；　even　someone　wise　about　the　woods　won't　try　to　climb　over　it　if　he　can　go　around。　Trees　that　all　fall　down　in　a　pile　get　mean。　They'll　bite　you　if　they　can。〃
　　〃Really？〃　Ellie　asked。　〃Really。　They're　piled　up　like　straws；　you　see。　And　if　you　was　to　step　on　the　right　one；　they　might　all　e　down　in　an　avalanche。〃
　　Ellie　looked　at　Louis。　〃Is　that　true；　Daddy？〃　…
　　〃I　think　so；　hon。〃
　　〃Yuck！〃　She　looked　back　at　the　blowdown　and　yelled：
　　〃You　tore　my　pants；　you　cruddy　trees！〃
　　All　three　of　the　grown…ups　laughed。　The　blowdown　did　not。　It　merely　sat　whitening　in　the　sun　as　it　had　done　for　decades。　To　Louis　it　looked　like　the　skeletal　remains　of　some　long…dead　monster；　something　slain　by　a　parfait　good　and　gentil　knight；　perchance。　A　dragon's　bones；　left　here　in　a　giant　cairn。
　　It　occurred　to　him　even　then　that　there　was　something　too　Convenient　about　that　blowdown　and　the　way　it　stood　between　the　pet　cemetery　and　the　depths　of　woods　beyond；　woods　which　Jud　Crandall　later　sometimes　referred　to　absently　as　〃the　Indian　woods。〃　Its　very　randomness　seemed　too　artful；　too　perfect　for　a　work　of　nature。　It…　Then　Gage　grabbed　one　of　his　ears　and　twisted　it；　crowing　happily；　and　Louis　forgot　all　about　the　blowdown　in　the。　woods　beyond　the　pet　cemetery。　It　was　time　to　go　home。
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　　Ellie　came　to　him　the　next　day；　looking　troubled。　Louis　was　working　on　a　model　in　his　study。　This　one　was　a　1917　Rolls…Royce　Silver　Ghost…680　pieces；　over　50　moving　parts。　It　was　nearly　done；　and　be　could　almost　imagine　the　liveried　chauffeur；　direct　descendant　of　eighteenth…　and　nineteenth…century　English　coachmen；　sitting　imperially　behind　the　wheel。
　　He　had　been　model…crazy　since　his　tenth　year。　He　had　begun　with　a　World　War　I　Sped　that　his　Uncle　Carl　had　bought　him；　had　worked　his　way　through　most　of　the　Revell　airplanes；　and　had　moved　on　to　bigger　and　better　things　in　his　teens　and　twenties。　There　had　been　a　boats…in…bottles　phase　and　a　war…machines　phase　and　even　a　phase　in　which　he　had　built　guns　so　realistic　it　was　hard　to　believe　they　wouldn't　fire　when　you　pulled　the　trigger…Colts　and　Winchesters　and　Lugers；　even　a　Buntline　Special。　Over　the　last　five　years　or　so；　it　had　been　the　big　cruise　ships。　A　model　of　the　Lusitania　and　one　of　the　Titanic　sat　on　his　shelves　at　his　university　office；　and　the　Andrea　Doria；　pleted　just　before　they　left　Chicago；　was　currently　cruising　the　mantel…piece　in　their　living　room。　Now　he　had　moved　on　to　classic　cars；　and　if　previous　patterns　held　true；　he　supposed　it　would　be　four　or　five　years　before　the　urge　to　do　something　new　struck　him。　Rachel　looked　on　this；　his　only　real　hobby；　with　a　wifely　indulgence　that　held；　he　supposed；　some　elements　of　contempt；　even　after　ten　years　of　marriage　she　probably　thought　he　would　grow　out　of　it。　Perhaps　some　of　this　attitude　came　from　her　father；　who　believed　just　as　much　now　as　at　the　time　Louis　and　Rachel　had　married　that　he　had　gotten　an　asshole　for　a　son…in…law。
　　Maybe；　he　thought；　Rachel　is　right。　Maybe　I'll　just　wake　up　one　morning　at　the　age　of　thirty…seven；　put　all　these　models　up　in　the　attic；　and　take　up　hang　gliding。
　　Meanwhile　Ellie　looked　serious。
　　Far　away；　drifting　in　the　clear　air；　he　could　hear　that　perfect　Sunday　morning　sound　of　churchbells　calling　worshippers。
　　〃Hi；　Dad；〃　she　said。
　　〃Hello；　pumpkin。　Wass　happenin？〃
　　〃Oh；　nothing；〃　she　said；　but　her　face　said　differently；　her　face　said　that　plenty　was　up；　and…none　of　it　was　so　hot；　thank　you　very　much。　Her　hair　was　fleshly　washed　and　fell　loose　to　her　shoulders。　In　this　light　it　was　still　more　blond　than　the　brown　it　was　inevitably　being。　She　was　wearing　a　dress；　and　it　occurred　to　Louis　that　his　daughter　almost　always　put　on　a　dress　on　Sundays；　although　they　did　not　attend　church。　〃What　are　you　building？〃
　　Carefully　gluing　on　a　mudguard；　he　told　her。　〃Look　at　this；〃　he　said；　carefully　banding　her　a　hubcap。　〃See　those　linked　R's？　That's　a　nice　detail；　huh？　If　we　fly　back　to　Shytown　for　Thanksgiving　and　we　get　on　an　L…10l　1；　you　look　Out　at　the　jet　engines　and　you'll　see　those　same　R's。〃
　　〃Hubcap；　big　deal。　〃She　handed　it　back。
　　〃Please；〃　he　said。　〃If　you　own　a　Rolls…Royce；　you　call　that　a　wheel　covering。　If　you're　rich　enough　to　own　a　Rolls；　you　can　strut　a　little。　When　I　make　my　second　million；　I'm　going　to　buy　myself　one。　Rolls…Royce　iche。　Then　when　Gage　gets　carsick；　he　can　throw　up　into　real　leather。〃　And　just　by　the　way；　Ellie；　what's　on　your　mind？　But　it　didn't　work　that　way　with　Ellie。　You　didn't　ask　things　right　out。　She　was　wary　of　giving　too　much　of　herself　away。　It　was　a　trait　Louis　admired。
　　〃Are　we　rich；　Daddy？〃
　　〃No；〃　he　said；　〃but　we're　not　going　away　to　starve　either。〃
　　〃Michael　Burns　at　school　says　all　doctors　are　rich。〃
　　〃Well；　you　tell　Michael　Burns　at　school　that　lots　of　doctors　get　rich；　but　it　takes　twenty　years。　。　and　you　don't　get　rich　running　a　university　infirmary。　You　get　rich　being　a　specialist。　A　gynecologist　or　an　orthopedist　or　a　neurologist。　They　get　rich　quicker。　For　utility　infielders　like　me；　it　takes　longer。〃
　　〃Then　why　don't　you　be　a　specialist；　Daddy？〃
　　Louis　thought　of　his　models　again　and　of…the　way　he　had　one　day　just　not　wanted　to　build　any　more　warplanes；　the　way　he　had　likewise　gotten　tired　of　Tiger　tanks　and　gun　emplacements；　the　way　he　had　e　to　believe　（almost　overnight；　it　seemed　in　retrospect）　that　building　boats　in　bottles　was　pretty　dumb；　and　then　he　thought　of　what　it　would　be　like　to　spend　your　whole　life　inspecting　children's　feet　for　hammertoe　or　putting　on　the　thin　Latex　gloves　so　you　could　grope　along　some　woman's　vaginal　canal　with　one　educated　finger；　feeling　for　bumps　or　lesions。
　　〃I　just　wouldn't　like　it；〃　he　said。
　　Church　came　into　the　office；　paused；　inspected　the　situation　with　his　bright　green　eyes。　He　leaped　silently　onto　the　windowsill　and　appeared　to　go　to　sleep。
　　Ellie　glanced　at　him　and　frowned；　which　struck　Louis　as　exceedingly　odd。　Usually　Ellie　looked　at　Church　with　an　expression　of　love　so　sappy　it　was　almost　painful。　She　began　to　walk　around　the　office；　looking　at　various　models；　and　in　a　voice　that　was　nearly　casual；　she　said；　〃Boy；　there　were　a　lot　of　graves　up　in　the　Pet　Sematary；　weren't　there？〃
　　Ah；　here's　the　nub；　Louis　thought　but　did　not　look　around；　after　examining　his　instructions；　he　began　putting　the　carriage　lamps　on　the　Rolls。
　　〃There　were；〃　he　said。　〃Better　than　a　hundred；　I'd　say。〃
　　〃Daddy；　why　don't　pets　live　as　long　as　people？〃
　　〃Well；　some　animals　do　live　about　as　long；〃　he　said；　〃and　some　live　much　longer。　Elephants　live　a　very　long　time；　and　there　are　some　sea　turtles　so　old　that　people　really　don't　know　how　old　they　are　。　。　。　or　maybe　they　do；　and　they　just　can't　believe　it。〃
　　Ellie　dismissed　these　simply　enough。　〃Elephants　and　sea　turtles　aren't　pets。　Pets　don't　live　very　long　at　all。　Michael　Burns　says　that　every　year　a　dog　lives；　it's　like　nine　of　our　years。〃
　　〃Seven；〃　Louis　corrected　automatically。　〃I　see　what　you're　getting　at；　honey；　and　there'&　some　truth　to　it。　A　dog　who　lives　to　be　twelve　is　an　old　dog。　See；　there's　this　thing　called　metabolism；　and　what　metabolism　seems　to　do　is　tell　time。　Oh；　it　does　other　stuff　too…some　people　can　eat　a　lot　and　stay　thin　because　of　their　metabolism；　like　your　mother。　Other　people…me；　for　instance…just　can't　eat　as　much　without　getting　fat。　Our　metabolisms　are　different；　that's　all。　But　what　metabolism　seems　to　do　most　of　all　is　to　serve　living　things　as　a　body　clock。　Dogs　have　a　fairly　rapid　metabolism。　The　metabolism　of　human　beings　is　much　slower。　We　live　to　be　about　seventy…two；　most　of　us。　And　believe　me；　seventy…two　years　is　a　very　long　time。〃
　　Becaus