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file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Stephen%20King%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htmSo thinking, Louis opened the paper.That’s what you do, all right, he thought with immeasurable relief. You pass it like a stone, and that’sthe end of it. . . unless there comes a campfire some night with friends when the wind is high and thetalk turns to inexplicable events. Because on campfire nights when the wind is high, talk is cheap.He ate his eggs. He kissed Rachel and Gage. He glanced at the square, white-painted laundry cabinet atthe foot of the chute only as he left. Everything was okay. It was another knockout of a morning. Latesummer showed every sign of just going on forever, and everything was okay. He glanced at the path ashe backed the car out of the garage, but that was okay too. Never turned a hair. You passed it like a stone.Everything was okay until he had gotten ten miles down the road, and then the shakes hit him so hardthat he had to pull off Route z and into the morning-deserted parking lot of Sing’s, the Chineserestaurant not far from the Eastern Maine Medical Center . . . where Pascow’s body would have beentaken. The EMMC, that is, not Sing’s. Vic Pascow was never going to eat another helping of moo googai pan, ha-ha.The shakes twisted his body, ripped at it, had their way with it. Louis felt helpless and terrified—notterrified of anything supernatural, not in this bright sunshine, but simply terrified of thepossibility that he might be losing his mind. It felt as if a long, invisible wire was being twirled throughhis head.“No more,” he said. “Please, no more.”He fumbled for the radio and got Joan Baez singing about diamonds and rust. Her sweet, cool voicesoothed him, and by the time she had finished, Louis felt that he could drive on.When he got to the Medical Center, he called hello to Charlton and then ducked into the bathroom,believing that he must look like hell. Not so. He was a little hollow under the eyes, but not even Rachelhad noticed that. He slapped some cold water on his face, dried off, combed his hair, and went into hisoffice.Steve Masterton and the Indian doctor, Surrendra Hardu, were in there, drinking coffee and continuingto go over the front file.“Morning, Lou,” Steve said.“Morning.”“Let’s hope it is not like last morning,” Hardu said.file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Ste...%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htm (67 of 333)7/28/2005 9:21:49 PM