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file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Stephen%20King%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htmIt’s not a secret, goddammit! It’s just the cat!But Ellie was right. It stank to high heaven.He took the cat out of her room and carried it downstairs, trying to breathe through his mouth. Therewere worse smells; shit was worse, if you wanted to be perfectly blunt. A month ago they’d had a goroundwith the septic tank, and as Jud had said when he came over to watch Puffer and Sons pump thetank, “That ain’t Chanel Number Five, is it, Louis?” The smell of a gangrenous wound—what oldDoctor Bracermunn at med school had called “hot flesh”—was worse too. Even the smell which camefrom the Civic’s catalytic converter when it had been idling in the garage for a while was worse.But this smell was pretty damn bad. And how had the cat gotten in, anyway? He had put it out earlier,sweeping it out with the broom while all three of them—his people—were upstairs. This was the firsttime he had actually held the cat since the day it had come back, almost a week ago. It lay hotly in hisarms, like a quiescent disease, and Louis wondered, What bolthole did you find, you bastard?He thought suddenly of his dream that other night—Pascow simply passing through the door betweenthe kitchen and the garage.Maybe there was no bolthole. Maybe it had just passed through the door, like a ghost.“Bag that,” he whispered aloud, and his voice was slightly hoarse.Louis became suddenly sure that the cat would begin to struggle in his arms, that it would scratch him.But Church lay totally still, radiating that stupid heat and that dirty stink, looking at Louis’s face as if itcould read the thoughts going on behind Louis’s eyes.He opened the door and tossed the cat out into the garage, maybe a little too hard. “Go on,” he said.“Kill another mouse or something.”Church landed awkwardly, its hindquarters bunching beneath it and momentarily collapsing. It seemedto shoot Louis a look of green, ugly hate. Then it strolled drunkenly off and was gone.Christ, Jud, he thought, but I wish you’d kept your mouth shut. He went to the sink and washed hishands and forearms vigorously, as if scrubbing for an operation. You do it because it gets hold of you. . .you make up reasons. . . they seem like good reasons . . . but mostly you do it because once you’ve beenup there, it’s your place, and you belong to it. . . and you make up the sweetest-smelling reasons in theworld.No, he couldn’t blame Jud. He had gone of his own free will and he couldn’t blame Jud.He turned off the water and began to dry his hands and arms. Suddenly the towel stopped moving and hefile:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20St...20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htm (140 of 333)7/28/2005 9:21:49 PM