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file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Stephen%20King%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htmFeeling very lonely indeed now—ridiculously close to tears— Louis waved again.He was still feeling blue that evening when he recrossed Route 15 after a couple of beers with Jud andNorma—Norma had drunk a glass of wine, something she was allowed, even encouraged to have, by Dr.Weybridge. They had moved into the kitchen tonight in deference to the season.Jud had stoked up the small Marek stove, and they had sat around it, the beer cold, the heat good, andJud had talked about how the Micmac Indians had staved off a British landing at Machiss two hundredyears ago. In those days the Micmacs had been pretty fearsome, he said, and then added that he guessedthere were a few state and federal land lawyers who thought they still were.It should have been a fine evening, but Louis was aware of the empty house waiting for him. Crossingthe lawn and feeling the frost crunching under his shoes, he heard the telephone begin to ring in thehouse. He broke into a run, got through the front door, sprinted through the living room (knocking over amagazine stand), and then slid most of the way across the kitchen, his frosty shoes skidding over thelinoleum. He snared the phone.“Hello?”“Louis?” Rachel’s voice, a little distant but absolutely fine. “We’re here. We made it. No problems.”“Great!” he said and sat down to talk to her, thinking: I wish to God you were here.The Thanksgiving dinner Jud and Norma put on was a fine one. When it was over, Louis went homefeeling full and sleepy. He went upstairs to the bedroom, relishing the quiet a little, flipped off hisloafers, and lay down. It was just after three o’clock; the day outside was lit with thin, wintry sunshine.I'll just doze a little, he thought and fell fast asleep.It was the bedroom extension that woke him up. He groped for it, trying to pull himself together,disoriented by the fact that it was almost dark outside. He could hear the wind whining around thecorners of the house and the faint, husky mutter of the furnace.“Hello,” he said. It would be Rachel, calling from Chicago again to wish him a happy Thanksgiving. Shewould put Ellie on and Ellie would talk and then Gage would get on and Gagewould babble—and how the hell had he managed to sleep all afternoon when he had meant to watch thefootball game. . .But it wasn’t Rachel. It was Jud.file:///E|/Funny%20&%20Weird%20Shit/75%20-%20Ste...%20Books/Stephen%20King%20-%20Pet%20Sematary.htm (90 of 333)7/28/2005 9:21:49 PM