Pet Sematary - Stephen King [43]
Louis bent and put his hands on Ellies shoulders. Stay right here on the porch, Ellie. Understand?
Daddy, Im scared, she whispered.
The two ghosts barrelled past them and ran down the walk, candy bags rattling, screaming their mothers name.
Louis ran down the front hall and into the kitchen, ignoring Ellie, who was calling for him to come back.
Norma lay on the hilly linoleum by the table in a litter of apples and small Snickers bars. Apparently she had caught the bowl with her hand going down and had overturned it. It lay nearby like a small Pyrex flying saucer. Jud was chafing one of her wrists, and he looked up at Louis with a strained face.
Help me, Louis, he said. Help Norma. Shes dying, I think.
Move to one side, Louis said. He kneeled and came down on a Spy, crushing it. He felt juice bleed through the knee of his old cords, and the cidery smell of apple suddenly filled the kitchen.
Here it is, Pascow all over again, Louis thought and then shoved the thought out of his mind so fast that it might have been on wheels.
He felt for her pulse and got something that was weak, thready, and rapid-not really a beat but only simple spasms. Extreme arrhythmia, well on the way to full cardiac arrest. You and Elvis Presley, Norma, he thought.
He opened her dress, exposing a creamy yellow silk slip. Moving with his own rhythm now, he turned her head to one side and began administering CPR.
Jud, listen to me, he said. Heel of the left hand one third of the way up the breastbone-four centimeters above the xyphoid process. Right hand gripping the left wrist, bracing, lending pressure. Keep it firm, but lets take it easy on the old ribs-no need to panic yet. And for Christs sake, dont collapse the old lungs.
Im here, Jud said.
Take Ellie, he said. Go across the street. Carefully-dont get hit by a car. Tell Rachel whats happened. Tell her I want my bag. Not the one in the study, but the one on the high shelf in the upstairs bathroom. Shell know the one. Tell her to call Bangor MedCu and to send an ambulance.
Bucksports closer, Jud said.
Bangors faster. Go. Dont you call; let Rachel do that. I need that bag. And once she knows the situation here, Louis thought, I dont think shell bring it over.
Jud went. Louis heard the screen door bang. He was alone with Norma Crandall and the smell of apples. From the living room came the steady tick of the seven-day clock.
Norma suddenly uttered a long, snoring breath. Her eyelids fluttered. And Louis was suddenly doused with a cold, horrid certainty.
Shes going to open her eyes oh Christ shes going to open her eyes and start talking about the Pet Sematary.
But she only looked at Louis with a muddled sort of recognition, and then her eyes closed again. Louis was ashamed of himself and this stupid fear that was so unlike him. At the same time he felt hope and relief. There had been some pain in her eyes but not agony. His first guess was that this had not been a grave seizure.
Louis was breathing hard now and sweating. No one but TV paramedics could make CPR look easy. A good steady closedchest massage popped a lot of calories, and the webbing between his arms and shoulders would ache tomorrow.
Can I do anything?
He looked around. A woman dressed in slacks and a brown sweater stood hesitantly in the doorway, one hand clutched into a fist between her breasts. The mother of the ghosts, Louis thought.
No, he said, and then: Yes. Wet a cloth, please. Wring it out. Put it on her forehead.
She moved to do it. Louis looked down, Normas eyes were open again.
Louis, I fell down, she whispered. Think I fainted.
Youve had some sort of coronary event, Louis said. Doesnt look too serious. Now relax and dont talk, Norma.
He rested for a moment and then took her pulse again. The beat was too fast. She was Morse-coding: her heart would beat regularly, then run briefly in a series of beats that was almost but not quite fibrillation, and then begin to beat regularly again. Beat-beat-beat, WHACK-WHACK-WHACK, beat-beat-beat-beat-beat. It was not good, but it was marginally