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The
candy-stripers
bungled
in
,
one
on
each
end
of
the
hard
stretcher
,
the
one
they
used
for
people
with
spinal
or
neck
injuries
.
Joan
Charlton
followed
them
,
saying
that
the
campus
police
were
on
their
way
.
The
young
man
had
been
struck
by
a
car
while
jogging
.
Louis
thought
of
the
joggers
who
had
run
in
front
of
his
car
that
morning
and
his
guts
rolled
.
Behind
Charlton
came
Steve
Masterton
with
two
Campus
Security
cops
.
"
Louis
,
the
people
who
brought
Pascow
in
are
...
"
He
broke
off
and
said
sharply
,
"
Louis
,
are
you
all
right
?
"
"
I
'm
okay
,
"
he
said
and
got
up
.
Faintness
washed
over
him
again
and
then
withdrew
.
He
groped
.
"
Pascow
is
his
name
?
"
One
of
the
campus
cops
said
,
"
Victor
Pascow
,
according
to
the
girl
he
was
jogging
with
.
"
Louis
glanced
at
his
watch
and
subtracted
two
minutes
.
From
the
room
where
Masterton
had
sequestered
the
people
who
had
brought
Pascow
in
,
he
could
hear
a
girl
sobbing
wildly
.
Welcome
back
to
school
,
little
lady
,
he
thought
.
Have
a
nice
semester
.
"
Mr.
Pascow
died
at
10:09
A.M.
,
"
he
said
.
One
of
the
cops
wiped
the
back
of
his
hand
across
his
mouth
.
Masterton
said
again
,
"
Louis
,
are
you
really
okay
?
You
look
terrible
.
"
Louis
opened
his
mouth
to
answer
,
and
one
of
the
candy-stripers
abruptly
dropped
her
end
of
the
hard
stretcher
and
ran
out
,
vomiting
down
the
front
of
her
pinafore
.
A
phone
began
to
ring
.
The
girl
who
had
been
sobbing
now
began
to
scream
the
dead
man
's
name
--
"
Vic
!
Vic
!
Vic
!
"
--
over
and
over
.
Bedlam
.
Confusion
.
One
of
the
cops
was
asking
Charlton
if
they
could
have
a
blanket
to
cover
him
up
,
and
Charlton
was
saying
she
did
n't
know
if
she
had
the
authority
to
requisition
one
,
and
Louis
found
himself
thinking
of
a
line
from
Maurice
Sendak
:
"
Let
the
wild
rumpus
start
!
"
Those
rotten
giggles
rose
in
his
throat
again
,
and
somehow
he
managed
to
bottle
them
up
.
Had
this
Pascow
really
said
the
words
Pet
Sematary
?
Had
this
Pascow
really
spoken
his
name
?
Those
were
the
things
that
were
knocking
him
off
kilter
,
the
things
that
had
sent
him
wobbling
out
of
orbit
.
But
already
his
mind
seemed
to
be
wrapping
those
few
moments
in
a
protective
film
--
sculpting
,
changing
,
disconnecting
.
Surely
he
had
said
something
else
(
if
he
had
indeed
spoken
at
all
)
,
and
in
the
shock
and
unhappy
passion
of
the
moment
,
Louis
had
misinterpreted
it
.
