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- Стр. 1/409
Pet cemetery
Jesus
said
to
them
,
"
Our
friend
Lazarus
sleeps
,
but
I
go
,
that
I
may
awake
him
out
of
his
sleep
.
"
Then
the
disciples
looked
at
each
other
,
and
some
smiled
because
they
did
not
know
Jesus
had
spoken
in
a
figure
.
"
Lord
,
if
he
sleeps
,
he
shall
do
well
.
"
So
then
Jesus
spoke
to
them
more
plainly
,
"
Lazarus
is
dead
,
yes
...
nevertheless
let
us
go
to
him
.
"
--
JOHN
'S
GOSPEL
(
paraphrase
)
Louis
Creed
,
who
had
lost
his
father
at
three
and
who
had
never
known
a
grandfather
,
never
expected
to
find
a
father
as
he
entered
his
middle
age
,
but
that
was
exactly
what
happened
...
although
he
called
this
man
a
friend
,
as
a
grown
man
must
do
when
he
finds
the
man
who
should
have
been
his
father
relatively
late
in
life
.
He
met
this
man
on
the
evening
he
and
his
wife
and
his
two
children
moved
into
the
big
white
frame
house
in
Ludlow
.
Winston
Churchill
moved
in
with
them
.
Church
was
his
daughter
Eileen
's
cat
.
The
search
committee
at
the
university
had
moved
slowly
,
the
hunt
for
a
house
within
commuting
distance
of
the
university
had
been
hair-raising
,
and
by
the
time
they
neared
the
place
where
he
believed
the
house
to
be
--
all
the
landmarks
are
right
...
like
the
astrological
signs
the
night
before
Caesar
was
assassinated
,
Louis
thought
morbidly
--
they
were
all
tired
and
tense
and
on
edge
.
Gage
was
cutting
teeth
and
fussed
almost
ceaselessly
.
He
would
not
sleep
,
no
matter
how
much
Rachel
sang
to
him
.
She
offered
him
the
breast
even
though
it
was
off
his
schedule
.
Gage
knew
his
dining
schedule
as
well
as
she
--
better
,
maybe
--
and
he
promptly
bit
her
with
his
new
teeth
.
Rachel
,
still
not
entirely
sure
about
this
move
to
Maine
from
Chicago
,
where
she
had
lived
her
whole
life
,
burst
into
tears
.
Eileen
promptly
joined
her
.
In
the
back
of
the
station
wagon
,
Church
continued
to
pace
restlessly
as
he
had
done
for
the
last
three
days
it
had
taken
them
to
drive
here
from
Chicago
.
His
yowling
from
the
cat
kennel
had
been
bad
,
but
his
restless
pacing
after
they
finally
gave
up
and
set
him
free
in
the
car
had
been
almost
as
unnerving
.
Louis
himself
felt
a
little
like
crying
.
A
wild
but
not
unattractive
idea
suddenly
came
to
him
:
He
would
suggest
that
they
go
back
to
Bangor
for
something
to
eat
while
they
waited
for
the
moving
van
,
and
when
his
three
hostages
to
fortune
got
out
,
he
would
floor
the
accelerator
and
drive
away
without
so
much
as
a
look
back
,
foot
to
the
mat
,
the
wagon
's
huge
four-barrel
carburetor
gobbling
expensive
gasoline
.
He
would
drive
south
,
all
the
way
to
Orlando
,
Florida
,
where
he
would
get
a
job
at
Disney
World
as
a
medic
,
under
a
new
name
.
But
before
he
hit
the
turnpike
--
big
old
95
southbound
--
he
would
stop
by
the
side
of
the
road
and
put
the
fucking
cat
out
too
.
Then
they
rounded
a
final
curve
,
and
there
was
the
house
that
only
he
had
seen
up
until
now
.
He
had
flown
out
and
looked
at
each
of
the
seven
possibles
they
had
picked
from
photos
once
the
position
at
the
University
of
Maine
was
solidly
his
,
and
this
was
the
one
he
had
chosen
:
a
big
old
New
England
colonial
(
but
newly
sided
and
insulated
;
the
heating
costs
,
while
horrible
enough
,
were
not
out
of
line
in
terms
of
consumption
)
,
three
big
rooms
downstairs
,
four
more
up
,
a
long
shed
that
might
be
converted
to
more
rooms
later
on
--
all
of
it
surrounded
by
a
luxuriant
sprawl
of
lawn
,
lushly
green
even
in
this
August
heat
.
