Pet Sematary Read Online Free

bed.”
    â€œDoctor’s orders?” she asked, smiling a little.
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œOkay,” she said, standing. “I’m beat. And Gage is apt to be up in the night. You coming?”
    He hesitated. “I don’t think so, just yet. That old fella across the street—”
    â€œRoad. You call it a road, out in the country. Or if you’re Judson Crandall, I guess you call it a rud. ”
    â€œOkay, across the rud. He invited me over for a beer. I think I’m going to take him up on it. I’m tired, but I’m too jived-up to sleep.”
    Rachel smiled. “You’ll end up getting Norma Crandall to tell you where it hurts and what kind of mattress she sleeps on.”
    Louis laughed, thinking how funny—funny and scary—it was, the way wives could read their husbands’ minds after a while.
    â€œHe was here when we needed him,” he said. “I can do him a favor, I guess.”
    â€œBarter system?”
    He shrugged, unwilling and unsure how to tell her that he had taken a liking to Crandall on short notice. “How’s his wife?”
    â€œVery sweet,” Rachel said. “Gage sat on her lap. I was surprised because he’s had a hard day, and you know he doesn’t take very well to new people on shortnotice under the best of circumstances. And she had a dolly she let Eileen play with.”
    â€œHow bad would you say her arthritis is?”
    â€œQuite bad.”
    â€œIn a wheelchair?”
    â€œNo . . . but she walks very slowly, and her fingers . . .” Rachel held her own slim fingers up and hooked them into claws to demonstrate. Louis nodded. “Anyway, don’t be late, Lou. I get the creeps in strange houses.”
    â€œIt won’t be strange for long,” Louis said and kissed her.

6
    Louis came back later feeling small. No one asked him to examine Norma Crandall; when he crossed the street ( rud, he reminded himself, smiling), the lady had already retired for the night. Jud was a vague silhouette behind the screens of the enclosed porch. There was the comfortable squeak of a rocker on old linoleum. Louis knocked on the screen door, which rattled companionably against its frame. Crandall’s cigarette glowed like a large, peaceable firefly in the summer darkness. From a radio, low, came the voice of a Red Sox game, and all of it gave Louis Creed the oddest feeling of coming home.
    â€œDoc,” Crandall said. “I thought that was you.”
    â€œHope you meant it about the beer,” Louis said, coming in.
    â€œOh, about beer I never lie,” Crandall said. “A man who lies about beer makes enemies. Sit down, Doc. I put an extra couple on ice, just in case.”
    The porch was long and narrow, furnished with rattan chairs and sofas. Louis sank into one and was surprised at how comfortable it was. At his left hand was a tin pail filled with ice cubes and a few cans of Black Label. He took one.
    â€œThank you,” he said and opened it. The first two swallows hit his throat like a blessing.
    â€œMore’n welcome,” Crandall said. “I hope your time here will be a happy one, Doc.”
    â€œAmen,” Louis said.
    â€œSay! If you want crackers or somethin, I could get some. I got a wedge of rat that’s just about ripe.”
    â€œA wedge of what?”
    â€œRat cheese.” Crandall sounded faintly amused.
    â€œThanks, but just the beer will do me.”
    â€œWell then, we’ll just let her go.” Crandall belched contentedly.
    â€œYour wife gone to bed?” Louis asked, wondering why he was opening the door like this.
    â€œAyuh. Sometimes she stays up. Sometimes she don’t.”
    â€œHer arthritis is quite painful, isn’t it?”
    â€œYou ever see a case that wasn’t?” Crandall asked.
    Louis shook his head.
    â€œI guess it’s tolerable,” Crandall said. “She don’tcomplain much.