Pet Sematary - Stephen King [46]
The wind awoke Louis, and he started up on his elbows, mostly asleep and confused. There were steps on the stairs.
slow, dragging steps. Pascow had come back. Only now, he thought, two months had passed. When the door opened he would see a rotting horror, the jogging shorts caked with mould, the flesh fallen away in great holes, the brain decayed to paste. Only the eyes would be alive hellishly bright and alive. Pascow would not speak this time; his vocal cords would be too decayed to produce sounds. But his eyes they would beckon him to come.
No, he breathed, and the steps died out.
He got up, went to the door, and pulled it open, his lips drawn back in a grimace of fear and resolution, his flesh cringing. Pascow would be there, and with his raised arms he would look like a long-dead conductor about to call for the first thundering phrase of Walpurgisnacht.
No such thing, as Jud might have said. The landing was empty silent. There was no sound but the wind. Louis went back
to bed and slept.
21
The next day Louis called the intensive care unit at the EMMC. Normas condition was still listed as critical; that was standard operating procedure for the first twenty-four hours following a heart attack. Louis got a cheerier assessment from Weybridge, her doctor, however. I wouldnt even call it a minor myocardial infarction, he said. No scarring. She owes you a hell of a lot, Dr. Creed.
On impulse, Louis stopped by the hospital later that week with a bouquet of flowers, and found that Norma had been moved to a semiprivate room downstairs-a very good sign. Jud was with her.
Norma exclaimed over the flowers and buzzed a nurse for a vase. Then she directed Jud until they were in water, arranged to her specifications, and placed on the dresser in the corner.
Mother s feeling ever s much better, Jud said dryly after he had fiddled with the flowers for the third time.
Dont be smart, Judson, Norma said.
No, maam.
At last Norma looked at Louis. I want to thank you for what you did, she said with a shyness that was utterly unaffected and thus doubly touching. Jud says I owe you my life.
Embarrassed, Louis said, Jud exaggerates.
Not very damn much, he dont, Jud said. He squinted at Louis, almost smiling but not quite. Didnt your mother tell you never to slip a thank-you, Louis?
She hadnt said anything about that, at least not that Louis could remember, but he believed she had said something once about false modesty being half the sin of pride.
Norma, he said, anything I could do, I was pleased to do.
Youre a dear man, Norma said. You take this man of mine out somewhere and let him buy you a glass of beer. Im feeling sleepy again, and I cant seem to get rid of him.
Jud stood up with alacrity. Hot damn! Ill go for that, Louis. Quick, before she changes her mind.
The first snow came a week before Thanksgiving. They got another four inches on the twenty-second of November, but the day before the holiday itself was clear and blue and cold. Louis took his family to Bangor International Airport and saw them off on the first leg of their trip back to Chicago for a visit with Rachels parents.
Its not right, Rachel said for perhaps the twentieth time since discussions on this matter had commenced in earnest a month ago. I dont like thinking of you rattling around the house alone on Thanksgiving Day. Thats supposed to be a family holiday, Louis.
Louis shifted Gage, who looked gigantic and wide-eyed in his first big-boy parka, to his other arm. Ellie was at one of the big windows, watching an Air Force helicopter take off.
Im not exactly going to be crying in my beer, Louis said. Jud and Norma are going to have me over for turkey and all the trimmings. Hell, Im the one who feels guilty. Ive never liked these big holiday group gropes anyway. I start drinking in front of some football game at three in the afternoon and fall asleep at seven, and the next day it feels like the Dallas Cowgirls are dancing around and yelling boola-boola inside my head. I just dont like sending you off with the two kids.
Ill be fine,