sk.cujo-第61节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


old　her　it　was　going　to　be　a　couple　of　days。　How　does　she　get　back？'
'Well　。。。　a　loaner　。。。　or　if　they　wouldn't　give　her　a　loaner；　I　guess　they'd　rent　her　one　of　their　lease　cars。　From　the　cheap　fleet。'
'Right！　Beautiful！　So　where　is　it？'
Vic　looked　at　the　driveway；　almost　as　if　expecting　it　to　appear。
'There'd　be　no　more　reason　for　Kemp　to　abscond　with　your　wife's　loaner　than　there　would　be　for　him　to　abscond　with　her　Pinto；'　Masen　said。　'That　pretty　well　ruled　out　the　Ford　dealership　in　advance。　Now　let's　say　she　takes　it　out　to　this　guy　Camber's　garage。　If　he　gives　her　an　old　junker　to　run　around　in　while　he　fixes　her　Pinto；　we're　back　at　square　one　right　away：　Where's　the　junker？　So　let's　say　that　she　takes　it　up　there　and　Camber　says　he'll　have　to　keep　it　awhile　but　she　calls　a　friend；　and　the　friend　es　out　to　pick　her　up。　With　me　so　far？'
'Yes；　sure。'
'So　who　was　the　friend？　You　gave　us　a　list；　and　we　got　them　all　out　of　bed。　Lucky　they　were　all　home；　it　being　summer　and　all。　None　of　them　mentioned　bringing　your　people　home　from　anywhere。　No　one　has　seen　them　any　later　than　Monday　morning。'
'Well；　why　don't　we　stop　crapping　around？'　Vic　asked。　'Let's　give　Camber　a　call　and　find　out　for　sure。'
'Let's　wait　until　seven；'　Masen　said。　'That's　only　fifteen　minutes。　Give　him　a　chance　to　get　his　face　washed　and　wake　up　a　little。　Service　managers　usually　clock　in　early。　This　guy's　an　independent。'
Vic　shrugged。　This　whole　thing　was　a　crazy　blind　alley。　Kemp　had　Donna　and　Tad。　He　knew　it　in　his　guts；　just　as　he　knew　it　was　Kemp　who　had　trashed　the　house　and　shot　his　e　on　the　bed　he　and　Donna　shared。
'Of　course；　it　didn't　have　to　he　a　friend；'　Masen　said；　dreamily　watching　his　cigarette　smoke　drift　off　into　the　morning。　'There　are　all　sorts　of　possibilities。　She　gets　the　car　up　there；　and　someone　she　knows　slightly　happens　to　be　there；　and　the　guy　or　gal　offers　Mrs。　Trenton　and　your　son　a　ride　back　into　town。　Or　maybe　Camber　runs　them　home　himself。　Or　his　wife。　Is　be。　married？'
'Yes。　Nice　woman。'
'Could　have　been　him；　her；　anyone。　People　are　always　willing　to　help　a　lady　in　distress。'
'Yeah；'　Vic　said；　and　lit　a　cigarette　of　his　own。
'But　none　of　that　matters　either；　because　the　question　always　remains　the　same：　Where's　the　fucking　car？　Because　the　situation's　the　same。　Woman　and　kid　on　their　own。　She　has　to　get　groceries；　go　to　the　dry　cleaner's；　go　to　the　post　office；　dozens　of　little　errands。　If　the　husband　was　only　going　to　be　gone　a　few　days；　a　week；　even；　she　might　try　to　get　along　without　a　car。　But　ten　days　or　two　weeks？　Jesus；　that's　a　long　haul　in　a　town　that's　only　got　one　goddam　cab。　Rental　car　people　are　happy　to　deliver　in　a　situation　like　that。　She　could　have　gotten　Hertz　or　Avis　or　National　to　deliver　the　car　here　or　out　to　Camber's。　So　where's　the　rental　car？　I　keep　ing　back　to　that。　There　should　have　been　a　vehicle　in　this　yard。　Dig？'
'I　don't　think　it's　important；'　Vic　said。
'And　probably　it's　not。　We'll　find　some　simple　explanation　and　say　Oy　vay；　how　could　we　be　so　stupid？　But　it　fascinates　me　strangely　。。。　it　was　the　needle　valve？　You're　sure　of　that？'
'Postitive。'
Masen　shook　his　head。　'Why　would　she　need　all　that　rigamarole　about　loaners　or　rental　cars　anyway？　That's　a　fifteen…minute　fix　for　somebody　with　the　tools　and　the　know…how。　Drive　in；　drive　out。　So　where's　…'
'…　her　goddam　car？'　Vic　finished　wearily。　'Me　world　was　ing　and　going　in　waves　now。
'Why　don't　you　go　upstairs　and　lie　down？'　Masen　said。　'You　looked　wiped　out。'
'No；　I　want　to　be　awake　if　something　happens。'
'And　if　something　does；　somebody　will　he　here　to　wake　you　up。　The　FBI's　ing　with　a　trace…back　system　to　hook　up　on　your　phone。　Those　people　are　noisy　enough　to　wake　the　dead　…so　don't　worry。'
Vic　was　too　tired　to　feel　much　more　than　a　dull　dread。　'Do　you　think　that　trace…back　shit　is　really　necessary？'
'Better　to　have　it　and　not　need　it　than　need　it　and　not　have　it；'　Masen　said；　and　pitched　his　cigarette。　'Get　a　little　rest　and　you'll　be　able　to　cope　better；　Vic。　Go　on。'
'All　right。'
He　went　slowly　upstairs。　The　bed　had　been　stripped　to　the　mattress。　He　had　done　it　himself。　He　put　two　pillows　on　his　side；　took　off　his　shoes；　and　lay　down。　The　morning　sun　shone　fiercely　in　through　the　window。　I　won't　sleep；　he　thought；　but　I'll　rest。　I'll　try　to；　anyway。　Fifteen　minutes　。。。　maybe　half　an　hour　。。。
But　by　the　time　the　phone　woke　him　up；　that　day's　burning　noon　had　e。
Charity　Camber　had　her　morning　coffee　and　then　called　Alva　Thornton　in　Castle　Rock。　This　time　Alva　himself　answered。
He　knew　that　she　had　chatted　with　Bessie　the　night　before。　'Nope；'　Alva　said。　'I　ain't　seed　hide　nor　hair　of　Joe　since　last　Thursday　or　so；　Charity。　He　brought　over　a　tractor　tire　he　fixed　for　me。　Never　said　nothing　about　feeding　Cujo；　although　I'd've　been　happy　to。'
'Alva；　could　you　run　up　to　the　house　and　check　on　Cujo）　Brett　saw　him　Monday　morning　before　we　left　for　my　sister's；　and　he　thought　he　looked　sick。　And　I　just　don't　know　who　Joe　would　have　gotten　to　feed　him。'　After　the　way　of　country　people；　she　added：　'No　hurry。'
'I'll　take　a　run　up　and　check；'　Alva　said。　'Let　me　get　those　damn　cacklers　fed　and　watered　and　I'm　gone。'
That　would　be　fine；　Alva；'　Charity　said　gratefully；　and　gave　him　her　sister's　number。　'Thanks　so　much。'
They　talked　a　little　more；　mostly　about　the　weather。　The　constant　heat　had　Alva　worried　about　his　chickens。　Then　she　hung　up。
Brett　looked　up　from　his　cereal　when　she　came　into　the　kitchen。　Jim　junior　was　very　carefully　making　rings　on　the　table　with　his　orange　juice　glass　and　talking　a　mile　a　minute。　He　had　decided　sometime　during　the　last　forty…eight　hours　that　Brett　Camber　was　a　dose　relation　to　Jesus　Christ。
'Well？'　Brett　asked。
'You　were　right。　Dad　didn't　ask　Alva　to　feed　him。'　She　saw　the　disappointment　and　worry　on　Brett's　face　and　went　on：　'But　he's　going　up　to　check　on　Cujo　this　morning；　as　soon　as　he's　got　his　chickens　tended　to。　I　left　the　number　this　time。　He　said　he'd　call　back　one　way　or　the　other。'
'Thanks；　Mom。'
Jim　clattered　back　from　the　table　as　Holly　called　him　to　e　upstairs　and　get　dressed。　'Wanna　e　up　with　me；　Brett？'
Brett　smiled。　'I'll　wait　for　you；　slugger。'
'Okay。'　Jim　ran　out　trumpeting；　'Mom！　Brett　said　he'd　wait！　Brett's　gonna　wait　for　me　to　get　dressed！'
A　thunder；　as　of　elephants；　on　the　stairs。
'He's　a　nice　kid；'　Brett　said　casually。
'I　thought；'　Charity　said；　'that　we　might　go　home　a　little　early。　If　that's　all　right　with　you。'
Brett's　face　brightened；　and　in　spite　of　all　the　decisions　she　had　e　to；　that　brightness　made　her　feel　a　Iittle　sad。　'When？'　he　asked。
'How　does　tomorrow　sound？　She　had　been　intending　to　suggest　Friday。
'Great！　But'　…　he　Iooked　at　her　closely　…'are　you　done　visiting；　Mom？　I　mean；　she's　your　sister。'
Charity　thought　of　the　credit　cards；　and　of　the　Wurlitzer　jukebox　Holly's　husband　had　been　able　to　afford　but　did　not　know　how　to　fix。　Those　were　the　things　that　had　impressed　Brett；　and　she　supposed　they　had　impressed　her　as　well　in　some　way。　Perhaps　she　had　seen　them　through　Brett's　eyes　a　little　。。。　through　Joe's　eyes。　And　enough　was　enough。
'Yes；'　she　said。　'I　guess　I've　done　my　visiting。　I'll　tell　Holly　this　morning。'
'Okay；　Mom。'　He　looked　at　her　a　little　shyly。　'I　wouldn't　mind　ing　back；　you　know。　I　do　like　them。　And　he's　a　neat　little　kid。　Maybe　he　can　e　up　to　Maine　sometime。'
'Yes；'　she　said；　surprised　and　grateful。　She　didn't　think　Joe　would　object　to　that。　'Yes；　maybe　that　could　be　arranged。'
'Okay。　And　tell　me　what　Mr。　Thornton　said。'
'I　will。'
But　Alva　never　called　back。　As　he　was　feeding　his　chickens　that　morning；　the　motor　in　his　big　air　conditioner　blew；　and　he　was　immediately　in　a　life…or…death　struggle　to　save　his　birds　before　the　day's　heat　could　kill　them。　Donna　Trenton　might　have　called　it　another　stroke　of　that　same　Fate　she　saw　reflected　in　Cujo's　muddy；　homicidal　eyes。　By　the　time　the　issue　of　the　air　conditioner　was　settled；　it　was　four　in　the　afternoon　（Alva　Thornton　lost　sixty…two　chickens　that　day　and　counted　himself　off　cheaply）；　and　the　confrontation　which　had　begun　Monday　afternoon　in　the　Cambers'　sunstruck　dooryard　was　over。
Andy　Masen　was　the　Maine　Attorney　General's　Wunderkind；　and　there　were　those　who　said　that　someday　…　and　not　too　distant　a　day；　either　…　he　would　lead　the　A。　G。's　criminal　division。　Andy　Masen's　sights　were　set　a　good　deal　higher　than　that。　He　hoped　to　be　Attorney　General　himself　in　1984；　and　in　a　position　to　run　for　Governor　by　1987。　And　after　eight　years　as　Governor；　who　knew？
He　came　from　a　large；　poor　family。　He　and　his　three　brothers　and　two　sisters　had　grown　up　in　a　ramshackle　'poor　white　trash'　house　on　the　outer　Sabbatus　Road　in　the　town　of　Lisbon。　His　brothers　and　sisters　had　been　exactly　up　…　or　down　…　to　town　expectations。　Only　Andy　Masen　and　his　youngest　brother；　Marry；　had　managed　to　finish　high　school。　For　a　while　it　had　looked　as　if　Roberta　might　make　it；　but　she　had　gotten　herself　knocked　up　higher　than　a　kite　following　a　dance　her　senior　year。　She　had　left　school　to　marry　the　boy；　who　still　had　pimples　at　twenty…nine；　drank　Narragansett　straight　from　the　can；　and　knocked　both　her　and　the　kid　around。　Marry　had　been　killed　in　a　car　crash　over　on　Route　9　in　Durham。　He　and　some