Кладбище домашних животных

37

           ChurchhadbynomeansturnedintoFrankencat.Hewas,inmanyways,asgoodasever.

           You’rerationalizing,avoicewhispered.He’snotasgoodasever.He’sspooky.Thecrow,Louis...rememberthecrow?

           "GoodGod,"Louissaidaloudinashaky,distractedvoicehewasbarelyabletorecognizeashisown.

           God,ohyes,fine,sure.IftherehadeverbeenatimetoinvokethenameofGodoutsideofanovelaboutghostsorvampires,thiswasit.SojustwhatwhatinthenameofGodwashethinkingabout?Hewasthinkingaboutadarkblasphemywhichhewasevennownotwhollyabletocredit.Worse,hewastellinghimselflies.Notjustrationalizing,butoutrightlying.

           Sowhat’sthetruth?Youwantthetruthsofuckingbad,what’sthetruth?

           ThatChurchwasn’treallyacatanymoreatallstartwiththat.Helookedlikeacat,andheactedlikeacat,buthewasreallyonlyapoorimitation.Peoplecouldn’tactuallyseethroughthatimitation,buttheycouldfeelthroughit.HerememberedanightwhenCharltonhadbeenatthehouse.Theoccasionhadbeenasmallpre-Christmasdinnerparty.They’dbeensittinginhere,talkingafterthemeal,andChurchhadjumpedupinherlap.Charltonhadpushedthecatoffimmediately,aquickandinstinctivemoueofdistastepuckeringhermouth.

           Ithadbeennobigdeal.Noonehadevencommentedonit.But...itwasthere.Charltonhadfeltwhatthecatwasn’t.

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