sk.cujo-第61章

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Was　it　fair　to　let　his　worries　about　the　damned　dog　stand　in　the　way　of　that？
；Charity？　You　there？　I　said　I　thought
'Ayuh；　I　heard　you；　Bessie。　He　probably　did　ask　Alva　to　feed　him；　then。'
'Well；　I'll　ask　him　when　he　gets　home；　Charity。　And　I'll　let　you　know；　too。'
'You　do　that。　Thanks　ever　so　much；　Bessie。'
'Don't　even　mention　it。'
'Fine。　Good…bye。'　And　Charity　hung　up；　realizing　that　Bessie　had　forgotten　to　ask　for　Jim　and　Holly's　phone　number。　Which　was　fine。　She　turned　toward　Brett；　posing　her　face。　She　would　say　nothing　that　was　a　lie。　She　would　lie　to　her　son。
'Bessie　said　your　dad　was　over　to　see　Alva　Sunday　night；'　Charity　said。　'Must　have　asked　him　to　take　care　of　Cujo　then。'
'Oh。'　Brett　was　looking　at　her　in　a　speculative　way　that　made　her　a　little　uneasy。　'But　you　didn't　talk　to　Alva　himself。'
'No；　he　was　out　bowling。　But　Bessie　said　she'd　let　us　know　if　…'
She　doesn't　have　our　number　down　here。'　Was　Brett's　tone　now　faintly　accusatory？　Or　was　that　her　own　conscience　talking？
'Well；　I'll　call　her　back　in　the　morning；　then；'　Charity　said；　hoping　to　close　the　conversation　and　applying　some　salve　to　her　conscience　at　the　same　time。
'Daddy　took　a　tractor　tire　over　last　week；'　Brett　said　thoughtfully。　'Maybe　Mrs。　Thornton　got　mixed　up　on　which　day　Daddy　was　there。'
'I　think　Bessie　Thornton　can　keep　her　days　straighter　in　her　head　than　that；'　Charity　said；　not　thinking　so　at　all。　'Besides；　she　didn't　mention　anything　to　me　about　a　tractor　tire。'
'Yeah；　but　you　didn't　ask　her。'
'Go　ahead　and　call　her　back；　then！'　Charity　flashed　at　him。　A　sudden　helpless　fury　swept　her；　the　same　ugly　feeling　that　had　e　when　Brett　had　offered　his　wickedly　exact　observation　about　Holly　and　her　deck　of　credit　cards。　When　he　had　done　that　his　father's　intonation；　even　his　father's　pattern　of　speech；　had　crept　into　his　voice；　and　it　had　seemed　to　her；　then　and　now；　that　the　only　thing　this　trip　was　doing　was　to　show　her　once　and　for　all　who　Brett　really　belonged　to　…lock；　stock；　and　barrel。
'Mom　'
'No；　go　ahead；　call　her　back；　the　number's　right　here　on　the　scratchpad。　just　tell　the　operator　to　charge　it　to　our　phone　so　it　won't　go　on　Holly's　bill。　Ask　Bessie　all　your　questions。　I　only　did　the　best　I　could。'
There；　she　thought　with　sad　and　bitter　amusement。　just　five　minutes　ago　I　wasn't　going　to　lie　to　him。
That　afternoon　her　anger　had　sparked　anger　in　him。　Tonight　he　only　said　quietly；　'Naw；　that's　okay。'
'If　you　want；　we'll　call　somebody　else　and　have　them　go　up　and　check；'　Charity　said。　She　was　already　sorry　for　her　outburst。
'Who　would　we　call？'　Brett　asked。
'Well；　what　about　one　of　the　Milliken　brothers？'
Brett　only　looked　at　her。
'Maybe　that's　not　such　a　good　idea；'　Charity　agreed。　Late　last　winter；　Joe　Camber　and　john　Milliken　had　had　a　bitter　argument　over　the　charge　on　some　repair　work　Joe　had　done　on　the　Milliken　brothers'　old　Chevy　Bel　Air。　Since　then；　the　Cambers　and　the　Millikens　hadn't　been　talking　much。　The　last　time　Charity　had　gone　to　play　Beano　down　at　the　Grange；　she　had　tried　to　pass　a　friendly　word　with　Kim　Milliken；　Freddy's　daughter；　but　Kim　wouldn't　say　a　word　to　her；　just　walked　away　with　her　head　up　as　if　she　hadn't　been　acting　the　slut　with　half　the　boys　in　Castle　Rock　High　School。
It　occurred　to　her　now　how　really　isolated　they　were；　up　at　the　end　of　Town　Road　No。3。　It　made　her　feel　lonely　and　a　little　chilled。　She　could　think　of　no　one　she　could　reasonably　ask　to　go　up　to　their　place　with　a　flashlight　and　hunt　up　Cujo　and　make　sure　he　was　okay。
Never　mind；'　Brett　said　listlessly。　'Probably　stupid；　anyway。　He　probably　just　ate　some　burdocks　or　something。'
'Listen；'　Charity　said；　putting　an　arm　around　him。　'One　thing　you　aren't　is　stupid；　Brett。　I'll　call　Alva　himself　in　the　morning　and　ask　him　to　go　up。　I'll　do　it　as　soon　as　we　get　up。　Okay？'
'Would　you；　Mom？'
'Yes。'
'That'd　be　great。　I'm　sorry　to　bug　you　about　it；　but　I　can't　seem　to　get　it　off　my　mind。
Jim　popped　his　head　in。　'I　got　out　the　Scrabble　board。　Anyone　want　to　play？'
'I　will；'　Brett　said；　getting　up；　'if　you　show　me　how。'
'What　about　you；　Charity？'
Charity　smiled。　'Not　just　now；　I　guess。　I'll　bein　for　some　of　the　popcorn。'
Brett　went　out　with　his　uncle。　She　sat　on　the　sofa　and　looked　at　the　telephone　and　thought　of　Brett　night…walking；　feeding　a　phantom　dog　phantom　dogfood　in　her　sister's　modern　kitchen。
Cujo's　not　hungry　no　more；　not　no　more。
Her　arms　suddenly　tightened；　and　she　shivered。　We're　going　to　take　care　of　this　business　tomorrow　morning；　she　promised　herself。　One　way　or　the　other。　Either　that　or　go　back　and　take　care　of　it　ourselves。　That's　a　promise；　Brett。
Vic　tried　home　again　at　ten　o'clock。　There　was　no　answer。　He　tried　again　at　eleven　o'clock　and　there　was　still　no　answer；　although　he　let　the　phone　ring　two　dozen　times。　At　ten　he　was　beginning　to　get　scared。　At　eleven　he　was　good　and　scared　…of　what；　he　was　not　precisely　sure。
Roger　was　sleeping。　Vic　dialed　the　number　in　the　dark；　listened　to　it　ring　in　the　dark；　hung　up　in　the　dark。　He　felt　alone；　childlike；　lost。　He　didn't　know　what　to　do　or　what　to　think。　Over　and　over　his　mind　played　a　simple　litany：　She's　gone　off　with　Kemp；　gone　off　with　Kemp；　gone　off　with　Kemp。
All　reason　and　logic　was　against　it。　He　played　over　everything　he　and　Donna　had　said　to　each　other　…　he　played　it　over　again　and　again；　listening　to　the　words　and　to　the　nuances　of　tone　in　his　mind。　She　and　Kemp　had　had　a　falling　out。　She　had　told　him　to　go　peddle　his　papers　somewhere　else。　And　that　had　prompted　Kemp's　vengeful　little　billet　doux。　It　did　not　seem　the　rosy　scenery　into　which　two　mad　lovers　might　decide　to　elope。
A　failing　out　doesn't　preclude　a　later　rapprochement；　his　mind　retorted　with　a　kind　of　grave　and　implacable　calm。
But　what　about　Tad？　She　wouldn't　have　taken　Tad　with　her；　would　she？　From　her　description；　Kemp　sounded　like　some　sort　of　wildman；　and　although　Donna　hadn't　said　so；　Vic　had　gotten　the　feeling　that　something　damned　violent　had　almost　happened　on　the　day　she　told　him　to　fuck　off。
People　in　love　do　strange　things。
That　strange　and　jealous　part　of　his　mind　…　he　hadn't　even　been　aware　of　that　part　in　him　until　that　afternoon　in　Deering　Oaks　…　had　an　answer　for　everything；　and　in　the　dark　it　didn't　seem　to　matter　that　most　of　the　answers　were　irrational。
He　was　doing　a　slow　dance　back　and　forth　between　two　sharpened　points：　Kemp　on　one　（DO　YOU　HAVE　ANY　QUESTIONS？）；　a　vision　of　the　telephone　ringing　on　and　on　in　their　empty　Castle　Rock　house　on　the　other。　She　could　have　had　an　accident。　She　and　Tad　could　be　in　hospital。　Someone　could　have　broken　in。　They　could　be　lying　murdered　in　their　bedrooms。　Of　course　if　she'd　had　an　accident；　someone　official　would　have　been　in　touch　…the　office　as　well　as　Donna　knew　in　which　Boston　hotel　he　and　Roger　were　staying　…　but　in　the　dark　that　thought；　which　should　have　been　a　fort　since　no　one　had　been　in　touch；　only　inclined　his　thoughts　more　toward　murder。
Robbery　and　murder；　his　mind　whispered　as　he　lay　awake　in　the　dark。　Then　it　danced　slowly　across　to　the　other　sharpened　point　and　took　up　its　original　litany：　Gone　off　with　Kemp。
In　between　these　points；　his　mind　saw　a　more　reasonable　explanation；　one　that　made　him　feel　helplessly　angry。　Perhaps　she　and　Tad　had　decided　to　spend　the　night　with　someone　and　had　simply　forgotten　to　call　and　tell　him。　Now　it　was　too　late　to　just　start　calling　around　and　asking　people　without　alarming　them。　He　supposed　he　could　call　the　sheriff's　office　and　ask　them　to　send　someone　up　and　check。　But　wouldn't　that　be　overreacting？
No；　his　mind　said。
Yes；　his　mind　said；　definitely。
She　and　Tad　are　both　dead　with　knives　stuck　in　their　throats；　his　mind　said。　You　read　about　it　in　the　papers　all　the　time。　It　even　happened　in　Castle　Rock　just　before　we　came　to　town。　That　crazy　cop。　That　Frank　Dodd。
Gone　off　with　Kemp；　his　mind　said。
At　midnight　he　tried　again；　and　this　time　the　constant　ringing　of　the　phone　with　no　one　to　pick　it　up　froze　him　into　a　deadly　certainty　of　trouble。　Kemp；　robbers；　murderers；　something。　Trouble。　Trouble　at　home。
He　dropped　the　phone　back　into　its　cradle　and　turned　on　the　bed　lamp。　'Roger；'　he　said。　'Wake　up。'
'Huh。　Wuh。　Hzzzzzz。　。　。　。'　Roger　had　his　arm　over　his