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file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Stephen%20King%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htmpast his parked Honda, but that didn’t really matter. Parking from 6 P.M. to 7 A.M. was legal on MasonStreet. There were plenty of other cars parked along it. Their owners would belong to the scattering ofapartment buildings on the other side of the street.Louis found himself glancing up at the tree he had hidden behind.Just above his head, the tree forked. He supposed he could— Without allowing himself to think about itfurther, he reached into the fork and pulled himself up, scrambling with his tennis shoes for purchase,sending a little shower of bark down to the sidewalk. He got a knee up and a moment later he had onefoot planted solidly in the crotch of the elm. If the police car should happen to come back, their spotlightwould find an extremely peculiar bird in this tree. He ought to move quickly.He pulled himself up onto a higher branch, one which overhung the very top of the fence. He feltabsurdly like the twelve-year-old he supposed he had once been. The tree was not still; it rocked easily,almost soothingly, in the steady wind. Its leaves rustled and murmured. Louis assessed the situation andthen, before he could get cold feet, he dropped off into space, holding on to the branch with his handslaced together over it. The branch was perhaps a little thicker than a brawny man’s forearm. With hissneakers dangling about eight feet over the sidewalk, he pulled himself hand for hand toward the fence.The branch dipped but showed no sign of breaking. He was faintly aware of his shadow following alongon the cement sidewalk below him, an amorphous black ape-shape. The wind chilled his hot armpits,and he found himself shivering in spite of the sweat running down his face and neck. The branch dippedand swayed with his movements. The farther out he moved, the more pronounced the dip became. Hishands and wrists were getting tired now, and he was afraid that his sweat-greasy palms might slip.He reached the fence. His tennis shoes dangled perhaps a foot below the arrow tips. The tips did not lookblunt at all from this angle. They looked very sharp. Sharp or not, he suddenly realized it was not just hisballs that were at risk here. If he fell and hit one of those things dead on, his weight would be enough todrive it all the way up into his lungs. The returning cops would find an early and extremely grislyHalloween decoration on the Pleasant-view fence.Breathing fast, not quite gasping, he groped for the fence points with his feet, needing a moment’s rest.For a moment he hung there, his feet moving in an air dance, searching but not finding.Light touched him and grew.Oh Christ, that’s a car, there’s a car coming—!He tried to shuffle his hands forward, but his palms slipped. His interlaced fingers were coming apart.Still groping for purchase, he turned his head to the left, looking under his straining arm. It was a car,but it shot through the intersection up the street without slowing. Lucky. If it had— His hands slippedfile:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20St...20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htm (268 of 333)7/28/2005 9:21:50 PM