Кладбище домашних животных

25

           

           Churchwasswayingslowlybackandforthasifdrunk.Louiswatched,hisbodycrawlingwithrevulsion,ascreambarelyheldbackinhismouthbyhisclampedteeth.Churchhadneverlookedlikethishadneverswayed,likeasnaketryingtohypnotizeitspreynotbeforehewasfixedandnotafterward.Forthefirstandlasttimeheplayedwiththeideathatthiswasadifferentcat,onethatjustlookedlikeEllie’s,acatthathadjustwanderedintohisgaragewhilehewasputtingupthoseshelves,andthattherealChurchwasstillburiedunderthatcairnonthebluffinthewoods.Butthemarkingswerethesame...andtheoneraggedear...andthepawthathadthatfunnychewedlook.ElliehadslammedthatpawinthebackdooroftheirlittlesuburbanhousewhenChurchwaslittlemorethanakitten.

           ItwasChurch,allright.

           "Getoutofhere,"Louiswhisperedhoarselyathim.

           ChurchstaredathimamomentlongerGod,hiseyesweredifferent,somehowtheyweredifferentandthenleapeddownfromthetoiletseat.Helandedwithnoneoftheuncannygracecatsusuallydisplay.Hestaggeredawkwardly,haunchesthuddingagainstthetub,andthenhewasgone.

           It,Louisthought.Nothe;it.Remember,it’sbeenspayed.

           Hegotoutofthetubanddriedoffquickly,jerkily.Hewasshavedandmostlydressedwhenthephonerang,shrillintheemptyhouse.Whenitsounded,Louiswhirled,eyeswide,handsgoingup.Heloweredthemslowly

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