Chapter 16 14

That was Vic, but Vic couldn't be here. It's an illusion. It was a symptom of the goddamn disease the dog had bit her and given her, and she was hallucinating.She stepped aside...and rubbed her eyes vigorously...while he stood there.Trembling violently, she stretched out a hand, and the phantom stretched out two large brown hands and took hers.Yes, it is him.Her hands were in pain. "Ve?" she said hoarsely, with only a rattling sound in her throat, "V-V-Vic?" "Yes, honey, it's me. Where's Ted?" The phantom was real, it was really him.She wanted to cry, but no tears came.Her eyeballs rolled twice in the eye sockets, and the two eye sockets were like two hot ball bags.

"Vic? Vic?" He put his arms around her. "Where's Ted, Donna?" "The car...the car...sick...hospital." She could only whisper now, which was almost impossible.Before long all she could do was move her lips.But that doesn't matter anymore, does it?Vic is here, she and Ted are saved. He leaves her and runs to the car. She stood there without moving, her eyes fixed down on the dog's slimy corpse.In the end, it's not that bad, is it?When there is nothing left but the instinct to survive, when you have absolutely no way out, you either live or you die, it seems perfectly normal.The pools of blood looked less ghastly now, and the brains gushing out of Cujo's split head didn't look so disgusting either.Nothing looks so bad now.Vic was here, and they were all saved.

"Oh, my God!" cried Vic, his voice, high and thin, spreading out through the silence. She looked over to him and saw him hauling something out of the back of her Pinto. Like a bag of food, potatoes?orange?what?Had she bought anything before all this happened?Yes, she did, but she'd already moved the groceries into the house.It was she and Ted who moved them in.They used his flow trolley.So what is it— Ted!She wanted to shout but couldn't, so she ran to him. Vic ran with Tad into a narrow, shady spot by the house, and put him down.Ted's face was as pale as paper. His hair was like dry yellow grass, stuck to his fragile little head.His two hands lay on the weeds, as if he had no strength at all, not even the weight to bend the stems of the grass.

Vic put his head against Tad's chest and listened, looking up at Donna.His face was pale, but he remained calm. "How long has he been dead, Donna?" died?She wanted to scream at him.Her lips were moving, as if someone was talking on TV, but the volume of the TV had been turned down to the minimum. He wasn't dead, he wasn't dead when I put him in the back of the car, what are you talking about, he's dead?What are you talking about, you bastard? She tried to say these words with her dead mouth.Had Ted's life gone with the wind when the dog's had gone?This is impossible.No, my God, no fate should be so cruel, so diabolically cruel.

She ran to her husband and pushed him away. Vic never expected her to push him, and he sat down on the ground. She bent over Tad, and she lifted his hands over his head, opened his mouth, pinched his nostrils with her hands, and breathed her soundless breath into her son's lungs. . In the driveway, summer's sleepy flies found Cujo and the bodies of George Bannerman, the sheriff of Fort County, Victoria's husband and Katrina's father.These flies treat Cujo and Bannerman equally, they don't favor dogs or people, they are democratic flies. The scorching sun is like a fire, showing off like a victory, roasting every living being under it.It was ten minutes to one at noon, and the earth shone white and quivered in the stillness of summer.The sky is the same color as the slightly faded blue work pants.Aunt Evie's prophecy has come true.

She breathed on her son, breathed in, breathed in, breathed in; her son wasn't dead; she'd been through so much hell, she'd never find out her son was dead at last.This is simply not possible. This is simply not possible. She kept breathing in, breathing in, she kept breathing in to her son. Twenty minutes later, she was still breathing on her son when the ambulance pulled into the driveway. She kept Vic away from her son.As he approached, she bared her teeth at him and snarled silently at him. He was devastated, his expression was glazed over, his mind was on the verge of a breakdown, and he believed deeply that his lowest consciousness told him that none of this could happen.

He broke into the Campbells' house to make the phone through the porch door that Donna had been staring at long and hard. When he came out again, Donna was still doing mouth-to-mouth resuscitation for their dead son. He walked towards her, then turned away again.He came to the Pinto and opened the rear door again. A violent heat wave hit him like an invisible and fierce lion. Had they really been there all Monday afternoon, all Tuesday, until noon today?How is this possible?It's unbelievable. He found an old blanket under the back floor where the spare wheel had been.He shook it out and spread it over the dismembered, dismembered remains of Banerman.Then he sat on the weeds, staring at the No. 3 town road and the protective pine forest belt in the distance.His thoughts flowed away quietly like water.

The ambulance driver and two orderlies carried Bannerman's body to Fort Rock Ambulance.In the moving car.They approach Donna.Donna bared her teeth at them.Her parted lips were moving, as if to say, he's alive, alive! When one of the orderlies tried to gently lift her up and lead her away, she bit him.Later, the handyman had to go to the hospital to get a rabies vaccine and fell ill. Another handyman came up to help, and she fought with them. They stepped aside cautiously, not knowing what to do.Vic was still sitting on the lawn, his chin propped on his arm, looking out across the road.

The driver of the ambulance took out a syringe, which shattered after a fight.Ted lay on the lawn, still not breathing.The shade on his side had grown a little bigger now. Two more police cars arrived. Sergeant Roscoe Fisher came too. When the ambulance driver told him that George Banerman was dead, he burst into tears.The rest of the police moved closer to Donna.Another fight ensued, short but intense this time, and finally Donna Trenton was dragged away from her son by four sweaty, tense police officers. She nearly broke free again, when Roscoe Fisher, still weeping, joined in.She screamed silently, jerking her head back and forth from side to side.Another syringe was brought, and this time she managed to give it a shot.

A stretcher was taken from the ambulance and the two ordermen carried it to the lawn where Tad lay.Ted, still soundless and distraught, was carried on a stretcher with a sheet covering his face. Seeing this scene, Donna struggled again, her strength suddenly doubling.She freed one hand and started thrashing wildly with it.Then, all of a sudden, she broke free completely. "Donna!" said Vic, standing up. "It's over, honey. Please, honey. Let it go, let it go." She didn't run to the stretcher where her son was lying. She ran to the baseball bat. She picked it up and started beating the dog again.The flies took off, forming a greenish shiny black cloud.The sound of the ball hitting the meat was heavy and menacing, like a slaughterhouse.Cujo's body jumped up with each stroke.

The cops start to lean forward. "No!" said one of the orderlies quietly, and a moment later Donna collapsed on the floor, completely unconscious.Brett Campbell's ball rolled out of her loosened grip. The ambulance drove off about five minutes later, sirens blaring. Vic was also given an injection - "To keep you calm, Mr. Trenton." Although he thought he was quite calm, he took the injection out of politeness.He picked up the glass wrapper the handyman had torn off the syringe and examined it carefully. It said Made by Superior John. "We did an ad campaign for these guys once," he told the handyman. "Is it true?" asked the handyman cautiously.He was a very young lad, and he felt that he might quit the job before long.He ~ has never seen such a terrible scene as today in his life. A police car waited to take Vic to North Cumberland Hospital in Bridgeton. "Can you wait a little while?" he asked. The two policemen nodded.They all stared at Vic Trenton warily, as if anything about him was strange enough to bite. He opened both doors of the Pinto, the one on Donna's side taking so much effort; the dog had smashed the door so badly that he couldn't believe it. Her purse was in there, and her shirt, which had a big ragged hole in it, looked like the dog had torn a chunk out of it. Slim Jim bags lay scattered on the dashboard, along with Ted's thermos, which smelled of sour milk.When he saw Tad's Snoopy lunchbox, his heart constricted, and his heart was so heavy that he restrained himself from thinking about what it would mean for the future - after this terrible, hot summer day. Will there be a future?he does not know.He also found one of Ted's slippers. Teddy, he thought, oh!Teddy. Both of his legs collapsed suddenly, and he sank heavily into the passenger seat, looking between his legs at the line at the bottom of the door frame. Why?Why would such a thing be allowed to happen?How did so many things come together? He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, like a nail being driven into it.His nostrils were sealed with tears and his temples began to throb.With a jerk of his nose he sucked the tears in, and raised a hand to cover his face. He remembered that, counting Ted, Cujo had killed at least three people, and more than three if the Campbells were found to be its victims.That cop, that cop he's covering with a blanket, does he have a wife?Does he have children?Very likely, he very likely also has a wife and children. If only I'd been here an hour earlier, if I hadn't fallen asleep-- His head was screaming: How sure I was that Kemp did it!How sure!If I can get here a few dozen minutes earlier, is fifteen minutes enough?If I hadn't talked to Roger for so long, would Ted be alive now?when did he dieDid any of this really happen?What am I going to do, how can this horrible experience keep me from going crazy for the rest of my life?What will happen to Donna? Another police car came up, and a policeman got out of the car and said something to a policeman who was waiting for Vic, who came up and said softly: "I think we should go, Mr. Trenton .Officer Junting came over just now and said that the reporters are coming here. You don't want to talk to the reporters now, do you?" "No." Vic agreed and started to stand. As he did so, he saw a small patch of yellow in the far corner of his field of vision.It was a little piece of yellow paper protruding from under Ted's seat. He pulls it out and sees that it's the "Devil's Words" he wrote to put Tad to sleep.The tissue paper was crumpled, had two obvious creases, and was blurred with sweat; where the oil and sweat were deepest, the paper was almost transparent. Devil, stay away from this house! It's none of your business here. No devil should be under Ted's bed! You can't drill down. There shouldn't be a devil in Ted's closet! It's too small. There should be no demons outside Ted's window! You can't hang there. There shouldn't be vampires, there shouldn't be werewolves, there shouldn't be things that bite, It's none of your business here. All night, nothing could touch Tad, or hurt him. It's none of your business here! He couldn't read any more.He crumpled up the paper and threw it on the dog's body. The paper is a sentimental lie, and its sentimentality is so flimsy, like that stupid corn color with crimson dyed on it. It's a complete lie. The world is full of demons, and they are all allowed to bite the innocent, the unsuspecting. He obediently let them take him into the police car.Like George Banerman, Ted, and Donna, he was taken in a police van and driven away. After a while, a veterinarian arrived in a checkered truck.She took one look at the dead dog, then put on a pair of long rubber gloves and produced a round bone saw.Those cops realized what she was up to.They all turned around. The veterinarian saw off the dog's head and put it in a large white plastic garbage bag. Later in the day, the thing would be sent to the State Animal Board, where they were going to test dogs' brains for rabies. So Cujo was gone too. At a quarter to three that afternoon, Holly told Charity to answer the phone. Holly looked slightly concerned. "Sounds like an official," she said.About an hour before, Brett had finally failed little Jim's endless pleas to accompany his little cousin to the playground at the Stuart Ford Community Center. There had been no silence in the house since then, save for the soft voices of women talking about the past—the good old days, Charity added silently herself. Once Dad fell off a haystack and landed hard on the backyard floor (but no mention of Dad spanking them out of their asses for some real or imagined mistake they made); Back when they sneaked into the old lady's theater in Leeds Benz to see "Love Me Tenderly" starring Elvis (but there was no mention of the time when Mom's credit card was suspended at the White and Red supermarket and she was not allowed to without leaving a large basket of supplies there, where she burst into tears in front of a large crowd of onlookers); and Reed Timmins, who lived north of the street, always managed to get a Kissing Holly on the road (but also doesn't mention how Reed lost an arm when his truck overturned on top of himself one day in August 1962). They both found it nice to have a conversation ...as long as you don't dig too deep. Because maybe there's something still lurking there, ready to bite. Twice Charity had opened her mouth to tell Holly that she and Brett were going back tomorrow, but both times she had kept her mouth shut.She was trying to find a way, when she told Holly, not to make Holly feel like they wanted to leave because they didn't like it here. Now the question is temporarily forgotten. She was sitting by the phone with a cup of Xinche tea in her hand.She felt a little uneasy—no one likes to get a phone call from someone who looks official while on vacation. "Hello?" she said. Holly saw her sister turning pale and heard her sister say, "What? What? No... no! There must be a mistake. I tell you, it must be—" She fell silent and listened to the phone.Some dire news from Maine, Holly thought. Although she could hear nothing but some meaningless rattling noises herself, she could already tell from the expression on her sister's face—Charity's face was like a mask stretching tight, Bad news from Maine. For her, this is just a past story.It was nice of her and Charity to sit in the sunny kitchen in the morning, singing about hot tea and eating orange slices, and talking about things like they used to sneak into the Miter Theatre.That's all well and good, but it doesn't change the fact that whenever she thinks back on her childhood life, she rediscovers bits and pieces of the past, each of which was part of her poor, miserable early life , and the whole picture was so horrible that she wouldn't feel bad if someone told her she would never see her sister again. Her tattered cotton underpants were ridiculed by all the girls in the school; she picked up potatoes until her back hurt, and as soon as she straightened her waist, the blood rushed to the top of her head so fast that you felt like you Going to pass out; Reed Timmins--she and Charity were so careful not to lift Reed's arm, it was crushed in that way... had to be amputated.But when Holly heard the news, she was so happy, because she remembered that Reed threw a green apple in her face one day, her nose was bleeding, and she burst into tears, She laughed at the thought of Reed tickling her hard; she remembered a particularly difficult year, but she happened to have a good dinner at the Peanut Butter Creamery in Sude, and she remembered it well. It was a hot summer day, and there was a stench coming in from outside the house. It was a pile of shit. If you pay attention, you will feel bad smell. Bad news from Maine. Somehow, what was driving her crazy, she knew that even if they both lived to a hundred years and spent the last twenty years of their old women's lives together, they would never be able to discuss it, Charity was the kind of person who could live in stalemate. Her expression was almost blank. There are wrinkles around the corners of her eyes. Her breasts had collapsed, visibly collapsed even with the coat on. They were only six years apart, but a spectator might well have thought they were sixteen years apart. And worst of all, she didn't seem to care at all, even though her bright and lovely son would die the same way...unless he was smarter, unless he became more capable.For those tourists, Holly thought angrily and bitterly, it was a good time, and it is still a good time, and this is a tourist attraction. But if you're from the ghetto, it's just bad news day after day. Then one day you look in the mirror and you see a face like Charity Campbell's.Now there's bad news in Maine, the home of all bad news.Charity hung up and she sat staring blankly at the phone, her hot tea steaming beside her. "Joe is dead," she announced suddenly. Holly took a breath.Her teeth were cold.why are you hereShe felt like screaming.I knew you would bring it all, and yes, you did. "Oh dear," she said, "are you sure?" "That's a guy from Augusta named Mason. From the Law Enforcement Division under the Office of the State Attorney General." "Is it... a car accident?" Charity looked straight at her, and Holly was shocked, terrified, to see that her sister didn't look like someone who had just received bad news; she looked like someone who had just received good news.The wrinkles on her face have been stretched, and her eyes are full of confusion... But hidden under this confusion, is it extreme shock, or is it a vague awakening of some kind of hope? If only she'd seen Charity's face when she checked her lottery numbers.She might get it. " "Charlotte?" "It's the dog," Charity said. "It's Cujo." "The dog?" At first she was bewildered, unable to see any connection between Charity's husband's death and the Cambers' dog.Then she remembered Reed Timmins' horrific stump of his left arm, and she understood.Her voice raised, as if screaming, "The dog?" Before Charity could answer (if she was going to), there was a second quick sound from the backyard: the high-pitched flute of Little Jim, and then the low, amused voice of Brett, answering.Now Charity's face had changed, it had grown old, it was a face Holly remembered so well, and she hated so much, the expression that made all the faces look exactly the same - that was Holly in her In the past years, I often had an unbearable expression. "The kid," Charity said, "Bright, Holly...how am I going to tell Bret that his daddy's dead?" Holly didn't answer.She just looked at her sister helplessly and hoped that none of them had come. "Mad Dog Kills Four, Three Days of Horror," the headline in the Portland Evening News was very eye-catching, and the subhead read: The only survivor is in North Cumberland Hospital, still under surveillance. The headline of the next day's "Herald" read: Father tells the story of his wife's desperate struggle to save her son.The story was moved to the bottom of the first page that night: Doctors confirm Mrs. Trenton is being immunized against rabies.Then the story continued on a side note: the local veterinarian said: The mad dog had never been vaccinated against rabies. Three days after the event, the story was moved to page four: State Department of Health says Fort Rock disaster was caused by rabid fox or pheasant.The last report of the week said that Victor Trenton had no plans to press charges against the Campbell survivors, who were also said to be in a state of "deep shock".The news is short, but it heralds the publication of a full story covering all events. A week later, a reportage appeared on the front page of the Sunday edition of the newspaper, describing the whole incident in detail. Another week later, a national tabloid published an embellished summary article with the catchy headline: The Tragic Battle in Maine—Mom vs. the St. Bernard Killer.And this time is the real end of these reports. There was a brief rabies scare in Central Maine that fall. One expert attributed this to "a horrific but isolated case of rabies at Castle Rock and rumors". Donna Trenton was in the hospital for nearly four weeks.She ended a period of treatment for her rabies bite, suffered no serious problems despite the excruciating pain, and because of the potentially dire nature of the disease—and her apparent mental depression— — She was closely watched for a while. In late August, Vic drove her home. It was drizzling outside the window. They spent a quiet day at home.That evening, as they sat in front of the TV, not really watching it, Donna asked him about the Worx commercials. "Everything went well there," he said. "With the help of Rob Martin, Roger finally managed to secure the last scene in the Cereal Professor series of commercials ... Of course, now we are working on the full advertising business of Sharp Corporation, starting a New big advertising campaign." Half of what he said was false; Roger was doing it, but Vic was there three days a week, sometimes four, and he was either fiddling with his pencil or staring at his typewriter. "But the guys at Sharp are very cautious. They want to make sure that every business we do doesn't exceed the two-year contract we signed with them. Roger is right, they want to get rid of us. But even if they really want to It doesn't matter if you get rid of us." "Very good," she said. She now often has bouts of well-being where she feels better and feels bright again like her old self, but most of the time she still feels restless and moody. She had lost more than twenty pounds and looked skinny. Her face was emaciated and her fingernails were broken and uneven. She looked at the TV for a moment, then turned to him.she cried. "Donna," he said, "oh, my dear." He threw his arms around her and took her in his arms. She was soft but did not give in to his embrace.Through her soft body, he could feel the hard bones in many places around her. "Can we still live here?" she managed to say in a trembling voice. "Vic, can we still live here?" "I don't know," he said. "I think we should set the place on fire." "Maybe I should ask you if you can still live with me. If you say no, I can understand, I can totally understand." "I don't want anything but to be with you. I always knew, I thought. For an hour maybe--the hour just after Kemp's note--I didn't know what to do. But that One time. Donna, I love you. I've always loved you." Now she wrapped her arms around his body and held him tightly.The soft summer rain hit the windows and left deep and shallow marks on the floor. "I can't save him," she said. "I keep thinking about it. I can't help it. I keep turning it over... over... over and over in my head. If only I could Run to the porch at one o'clock...or get the baseball bat early..." She swallowed. "By the last time I got the courage to get out of the Pinto, it was... over. He was dead." He could have told her that she had always put Ted's safety first; The dog's containment attack, which had exhausted her as well as its own strength, might have turned out differently if she had hit Cujo with the ball earlier; indeed, even at the end, the dog had Almost killed her. But he didn't say anything.He knew these words had been said to her over and over again, both by himself and by others. But all the logical reasoning in the world can't hide the grief. Whenever I see those coloring books quietly piled up on the table, and see the empty swing in the yard hanging motionless under the arc rope, This kind of grief will come to my heart. Logic couldn't calm the terrible feeling in her heart, the feeling of disillusioned failure. Only time can make it all up, and time can never quite make it up. "I couldn't have saved his life sooner," he said. "you--" "I was so damn sure that Kemp did it. If only I had woken up earlier, if I hadn't slept, if only I hadn't been chatting with Roger on the phone." "Stop it." She said softly, "Stop it." "I've got to live, I think you've got to live, we've got to live. That's what everybody's doing, you know? They're just going to live. And try to help each other out." "I can always feel him... hear him... like he's everywhere." "Yes, me too." One weekend two weeks ago, he and Roger had sent all of Ted's toys to the Children's Salvation Army. After that was done, they turned back and drank a few beers while watching the baseball game, without speaking a word between them. After Roger came home, Vic went upstairs to Tad's room, sat on Tad's bed, and burst into tears. He cried until the sky was dark, as if his internal organs were about to be cried out. He cried bitterly, he wanted to die, but he didn't, and he went back to work the next day. "Make us some coffee?" he said, patting her bottom lightly. "I'm going to light a fire, it's getting a little cold in here." "Okay!" She stood up. "Vic?" "what?" Her throat moved: "I love you too." "Thanks," he said, "I think I need that from you." She smiled, looking tired, and went to make coffee. They made it through that night, and while Ted was still buried in the ground, they spent the second day together, the third day. By the end of August, things were still not much better, and again in September, but when the autumn leaves started to fall, things got a little bit better, just a little bit. She was tired and her muscles were tense, but she tried not to show it. Brett was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of hot tea when she came back from the barn, stomped the snow off her boots, and went into the kitchen. For a while he just looked at her, she was much thinner. In the past six months, he has grown taller.This made him look loose and loose, while in the past his muscles were always tight and full of elasticity. His grades weren't great in his first term, and he got into trouble at school twice - two fights, most likely because of what happened this summer.But his grades in the second semester were much better. "Mom? Mom? This is—" "Alva brought it," she said.She carefully placed the teacup on the saucer, without any clinking sound between them. "There's no law that says you have to have it." "Has it been vaccinated?" Brett asked, which would be his first question, and it broke her heart a little. "It did," she said. "Alva tried to keep me from paying that, but I insisted he show me the vet's note. It was nine dollars, including the distemper and rabies shots. There's also a small tube of chafing cream and chilblain ear oil. If you don't want it, Alva will give me the dollar back." Money is very important to them now. For a moment she wasn't sure if they could keep the house, or if they should keep it. She had spoken to Brett about it, and had shown him.There is a small amount of life insurance remaining. Mr. Qiaobo of Casco Bank in Bridgeton explained to her that if the money was placed in a special savings account, it would be enough to cover the mortgage on the house for the next five years, along with lottery winnings.She found a respectable job in the packing and billing department of the Chuth Obiger Company, an industrial firm in Castle Rock.Also, there was an auction of Joe's furniture—including the brand-new chain hanger—which fetched another three thousand dollars. That would give them a good chance of keeping the house, which, she explained to Brett, would be tough and save money.Another option is that they can go into town and rent an apartment.Brett slept and got up to tell her what he was thinking, and they both had the same idea—to keep the home they had.So they live on. "What's its name?" Brett asked. "No name, it was just born." "Is it a purebred dog?" "Yes," she said, and then laughed. "It's a Handz. Fifty-seventh generation." He smiled too, and his smile was restrained.But Charity thought that was better than no smile at all. "Can it come in? It's snowing outside again." "If you can spread some newspapers on the floor, let him in. If he poops somewhere, you clean it up." "Okay." He opened the door and walked out. "What would you like to call it, Brett?" "I don't know," Bright said, and there was a long, long pause. "I don't know yet, I'll think about it." She felt that he was crying, and she resisted the urge not to run towards him. What's more, he turned his back to her, so she couldn't be sure if he was crying. He had grown into a big child, and although it pained her to know that, she understood that big children were always reluctant to let their mother know they were crying. He went out and brought the dog in. He hugged him tightly like a baby. He didn't give it a name until the following spring.Then, for whatever reason, they started calling him Willie. This is a lively and lovely fluffy short-haired puppy.Somehow, he was like a Willie, and the name couldn't have been more fitting for him. After a long time, in the spring of the second year, Charity's monthly salary was increased.She started saving ten dollars a week for Bright to go to college. Cujo's remains were set ablaze shortly after the fatal incident in the Campbell's yard.The ashes were shipped along with the trash to Augusta City's landfill. Here we should mention again that it has been trying to be a good dog.He has faithfully done what his master and mistress, especially his little master, have told him to do. It would rather die for them if need be.It never thought of hurting anyone or killing anyone.It was only held by something, which could be fate, or a demon, or just some insane disease called rabies, rather than its will. 库乔追兔子的那个小洞从来没有被发现。 最后，不知是为了什么模模糊糊的原因，那些蝙蝠迁走了。 兔子没能爬出来，它在那里面，在慢慢地、无声无息的痛苦中饿死了。 它的尸骨，就我所知，还留在洞里，和那些在它之前掉进去的不走运的别的动物的尸骨在一起呢。 让我告诉你，你就知道了， 让我告诉你，你就知道了； 让我告诉你，你就知道了， 好狗去的地方，老布鲁也去了。 ——民间歌谣