Pet Sematary(126)

Rachel pulled the door open quickly; Ellie was now moaning and holding her stomach. She retched twice, but there was no vomiting; they were the dry heaves of total nervous exhaustion.

When Ellie told her she felt a little better, Rachel took her over to the basins and washed her daughter's face. Ellie was wretchedly white, and there were circles under her eyes.

"Ellie, what is wrong? Can't you tell me?"

"I don't know what's wrong," she said. "But I knew something was wrong ever since Daddy told me about the trip. Because something was wrong with him."

Louis, what are you hiding? You were hiding something. I could see it; even Ellie could see it.

It occurred to her that she had also been nervous all day, as though waiting for a blow to fall. She felt the way she did in the two or three days before her period, tense and on edge, ready to laugh or cry or get a headache that would come bulleting through like a fast express, there and then gone three hours later.

"What?" she said now to Ellie's reflection in the mirror. "Honey, what could be wrong with Daddy?"

"I don't know," Ellie said. "It was the dream. Something about Gage. Or maybe it was Church. I don't remember. I don't know."

"Ellie, what was your dream?"

"I dreamed I was in the Pet Sematary," Ellie said. "Paxcow took me to the Pet Sematary and said Daddy was going to go there and something terrible was going to happen."

"Paxcow?" A bolt of terror both sharp and yet undefined struck her. What was that name, and why did it seem familiar? It seemed that she had heard that name-or one like it-but she could not for the life of her remember where. "You dreamed someone named Paxcow took you to the Pet Sematary?"

"Yes, that's what he said his name was. And-" Her eyes suddenly widened.

"Do you remember something else?"

"He said that he was sent to warn but that he couldn't interfere. He said that he was... I don't know... that he was near Daddy because they were together when his soul was dis-dis-I can't remember!" she wailed.

"Honey," Rachel said, "I think you dreamed about the Pet Sematary because you're still thinking about Gage. And I'm sure Daddy is fine. Do you feel any better now?"

"No," Ellie whispered. "Mommy, I'm scared. Aren't you scared?"

"Huh-uh," Rachel said, with a brisk little shake of her head and a smile-but she was, she was scared; and that name, Fax-cow, haunted her with its familiarity.

She felt she had heard it in some dreadful context months or even years ago, and that nervy feeling would not leave her.

She felt something-something pregnant, swollen, and waiting to burst. Something terrible that needed to be averted. But what? What?

"I'm sure everything is fine," she told Ellie. "Want to go back to Grandma and Grandda?"

"I guess so," Ellie said listlessly.

A Puerto Rican woman led her very young son into the ladies', scolding him. A large wet stain had spread on the crotch of the little boy's Bermudas and Rachel found herself reminded of Gage with a kind of paralyzing poignancy. This fresh sorrow was like novocaine, smothering her jitters.

"Come on," she said. "We'll call Daddy from Grandda's house."

"He was wearing shorts," Ellie said suddenly, looking back at the little boy.

"Who was, honey?"

"Paxcow," Ellie said. "He was wearing red shorts in my dream.

That brought the name momentarily into focus, and Rachel felt that knee-weakening fear again... then it danced away.

They could not get close to the luggage carousel; Rachel could just see the top of her father's hat, the one with the feather. Dory Goldman was holding two seats against the wall for them and waving. Rachel brought Ellie over.

"Are you feeling any better, dear?" Dory asked.

"A little bit," Ellie said. "Mommy-"

She turned to Rachel and broke off. Rachel was sitting bolt upright, her hand clapped to her mouth, her face white. She had it. It had suddenly gone through with a terrible thud. Of course she should have known at once, but she had tried to put it out of her mind. Of course.

"Mommy?"

Rachel turned slowly to her daughter, and Ellie could hear the tendons in her neck creak. She took her hand away from her mouth.

"Did the man in your dream tell you his first name, Eileen?"

"Mommy, are you all-"

"Did the man in your dream tell you his first name?"

Dory was looking at her daughter and granddaughter as if they might have both gone crazy.

"Yes, but I can't remember... Mommy, you're hurrrrting me-"

Rachel looked down and saw that her free hand was clamped around Ellie's lower forearm like a manacle.

"Was it Victor?"

Ellie drew sharp breath. "Yes, Victor! He said his name was Victor! Mommy, did you dream of him too?"

"Not Paxcow," Rachel said. "Pascow."

"That's what I said. Paxcow."

"Rachel, what's wrong?" Dory said. She took Rachel's free hand and winced at its chill. "And what's wrong with Eileen?"

"It's not Eileen," Rachel said. "It's Louis, I think. Something is wrong with Louis. Or something is going to be wrong. Sit with Ellie, Mom. I want to call home."