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file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Stephen%20King%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htmincredibly proud afternoon sixteen years after Louis had raced an Orinco truck for his son’s life, he andRachel—who had now gone almost entirely gray, although she covered it with a rinse—watched theirson win a gold medal for the U.S.A. When the NBC cameras moved in for a close-up of him, standingwith his dripping, seal-sleek head back, his eyes open and calm and fixed on the flag as the nationalanthem played, the ribbon around his neck, and the gold lying against the smooth skin of his chest, Louiswept. He and Rachel both wept.“I guess this caps everything,” he said huskily and turned to embrace his wife. But she was looking athim with dawning horror, her face seeming to age before his eyes as if whipped by days and months andyears of evil time; the sound of the national anthem faded and when Louis looked back at the TV he sawa different boy there, a black boy with a head of tight curls in which gems of water still gleamed.This caps everything.His cap.His cap is...oh dear God, his cap is full of blood.Louis woke up in the cold dead light of a rainy seven o’clock, clutching his pillow in his arms. His headthumped monstrously with his heartbeat; the ache swelled and faded, swelled and faded. He burped acidthat tasted like old beer, and his stomach heaved miserably. He had been weeping; the pillow was wetwith his tears, as if he had somehow stumbled in and then out of one of those hokey country-andwesternlaments in his sleep. Even in the dream, he thought, some part of him had known the truth andhad cried for it.He got up and stumbled to the bathroom, heart racing threadily in his chest, consciousness itselffragmented by the fiercenessof his hangover. He reached the toilet bowl barely in time and threw up a glut of last night’s beer.He kneeled on the floor, eyes closed, until he felt capable of actually making it to his feet. He groped forthe handle and flushed the john. He went to the mirror to see how badly bloodshot his eyes were, but theglass had been covered with a square of sheeting. Then he recalled. Drawing almost randomly on a pastshe professed to barely remember, Rachel had covered all the mirrors in the house, and she took off hershoes before entering through the door.No Olympic swimming team, Louis thought dully as he walked back to his bed and sat down on it. Thesour taste of beer coated his mouth and throat, and he swore to himself (not for the first time or the last)that he would never touch that poison again. No Olympic swimming team, no 3.0 in college, no littleCatholic girlfriend or conversion, no Camp Agawam, no nothing. His sneakers had been torn off; hisfile:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20St...20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htm (222 of 333)7/28/2005 9:21:49 PM