Pet Sematary - Stephen King [61]
But tonight he had said that Spot died when he, Jud, was ten. Well, hes an old man, and old men get confused in their memories, he thought uneasily. Hes said himself that hes noticed signs of increasing forgetfulness-groping for names and addresses that used to come to him easily, sometimes getting up in the morning and having no memory of the chores he planned to do just the night before. For a man of his age, hes getting off pretty goddamned light senilitys probably too strong a word for it in Juds case; forgetfulness is actually better, more accurate. Nothing too surprising about a man forgetting when a dog died some seventy years ago. Or the circumstances in which it died, for that matter. Forget it, Louis.
But he wasnt able to fall asleep again right away; for a long while he lay awake, too conscious of the empty house and the wind that whined around the eaves outside it.
At some point he slept without even being aware that he had gone over the edge; it must have been so, because as he slipped away, it seemed to him that he heard bare feet slowly climbing
the stairs and that he thought, Let me alone, Pascow, let me alone, whats done is done and whats dead is dead-and the steps faded away.
And although a great many other inexplicable things happened as that year darkened, Louis was never bothered by the specter of Victor Pascow again, either waking or dreaming.
23
He awoke at nine the next morning. Bright sunshine streamed in the bedrooms east windows. The telephone was ringing. Louis reached up and snared it. Hello?
Hi! Rachel said. Did I wake you up? Hope so.
You woke me up, you bitch, he said, smiling.
Ooooh, such nasty language, you bad old bear, she said. I tried to call you last night. Were you over at Juds?
He hesitated for only the tiniest fraction of a moment. Yes, he said. Had a few beers. Norma was up at some sort of Thanksgiving supper. I thought about giving you a ring, but
you know.
They chatted awhile. Rachel updated him on her family, something he could have done without, although he took a small, mean satisfaction in the news that her fathers bald spot seemed to be expanding at a faster rate.
You want to talk to Gage? Rachel asked.
Louis grinned. Yeah, I guess so, he said. Dont let him hang up the phone like he did the other time.
Much rattling at the other end. Dimly he heard Rachel cajoling the kid to say hi, Daddy.
At last Gage said, Hi, Dayee.
Hi, Gage, Louis said cheerfully. How you doing? Hows your life? Did you pull over your granddas pipe rack again? I certainly hope so. Maybe this time you can trash his stamp collection as well.
Gage babbled on happily for thirty seconds or so, interspersing his gobbles and grunts with a few recognizable words from his growing vocabulary-mommy, Ellie, grandda, grandma, car (pronounced in the best Yankee tradition as kaaa, Louis was amused to note), twuck, and shit.
At last Rachel pried the phone away from him to Gages wail of indignation and Louiss measured relief-he loved his son and missed him like mad, but holding a conversation with a not-quite-two-year-old was a little bit like trying to play cribbage with a lunatic; the cards kept going everywhere and sometimes you found yourself pegging backwards.
So hows everything there? Rachel asked.
Okay, Louis said, with no hesitation at all this time-but he was aware he had crossed a line, back when Rachel had asked him if he had gone over to Juds last night and he told her he had. In his mind he suddenly heard Jud Crandall saying, The soil of a mans heart is stonier, Louis a man grows what he can
and he tends ft. Well a little dull, if you want to know the Gods honest. Miss you.
You actually mean to tell me youre not enjoying your vacation from this sideshow?
Oh, I like the quiet, he admitted, sure. But it gets strange after the first twenty-four hours or so.
Can I talk to Daddy? It was Ellie in the background.
Louis? Ellies here.
Okay, put her