Кладбище домашних животных

61

           Watchingforwhat?Formeofcourse,watchingformetocomehome.Onlyhemissedme.Somehowhemissedme.

           Louisglancedatthefourbeercanslinedupinaneatrow.Notenoughtoputhimtosleep,butmaybehehadgottenuptogotothebathroom.Howeverithadbeen,itwasjustalittlebittoogoodtohavebeenperfectlyaccidental,wasn’tit?

           Themuddytracksapproachedthechairbythewindow.Mixedamongthehumantrackswereafewfaded,ghostlycatprints.AsifChurchhadwalkedinandoutofthegravedirtleftbyGage’ssmallshoes.Thenthetracksmadefortheswingingdoorleadingintothekitchen.

           Heartthudding,Louisfollowedthetracks.

           HepushedthedooropenandsawJud’ssplayedfeet,hisoldgreenworkpants,hischeckedflannelshirt.Theoldmanwaslyingsprawledinawidepoolofdryingblood.

           Louisglancedhishandstohisface,asiftoblighthisownvision.Buttherewasnowaytodothat;hesaweyes,Jud’seyes,open,accusinghim,perhapsevenaccusinghimselfforsettingthisinmotion.

           Butdidhe?Louiswondered.Didhereallydothat?

           JudhadbeentoldbyStannyB.,andStannyB.hadbeentoldbyhisfather,andStannyB.’sfatherhadbeentoldbyhisfather,thelasttradertotheIndians,aFrenchmanfromthenorthcountryinthedayswhenFranklinPiercehadbeenalivingPresident.

           "OhJud,I’msosorry,"hewhispered.

           Jud’sblankeyesstaredathim.

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