reactormag.com
Hitting Bottom: Stephen King’s Pet Sematary (Part 21)
Books
Reading the Weird
Hitting Bottom: Stephen King’s Pet Sematary (Part 21)
Once more over the deadfall as we reach King’s terrifying conclusion…
By Ruthanna Emrys, Anne M. Pillsworth
|
Published on April 9, 2025
Comment
0
Share New
Share
Welcome back to Reading the Weird, in which we get girl cooties all over weird fiction, cosmic horror, and Lovecraftiana—from its historical roots through its most recent branches. This week, we wrap up Stephen King’s Pet Sematary with Chapters 61, 62, and the epilogue. The novel was first published in 1983. Spoilers ahead! Ongoing content warning for dead kids and pets.
Having collected what he needs from his doctor’s bag, Louis crosses to Jud’s house. Church watches warily from the roof of the blue Chevette in the driveway, but he accepts Louis’s offering of cat food. While Church eats, Louis seizes him and injects a heavy dose of morphine. Church keels over and dies, for the second time.
In the Chevette are Rachel’s purse, scarf and ticket folder. His fears confirmed, Louis goes into the Crandall house. Beer cans and cigarette ashes show him where Jud kept overnight vigil, yet somehow missed Louis’s return. Though small muddy shoe prints lead to the kitchen, Gage doesn’t answer when called. Louis follows the tracks to Jud’s scalpel-slashed corpse. The old man’s eyes are open, accusing, but who’s to blame for this outcome? How far back does the chain of whispered secrets about the Micmac burial ground go?
As Louis covers Jud with a tablecloth, a stealthy scrape sounds upstairs. After loading three more syringes with morphine hyperdoses, Louis investigates. A giggle, “cold and sunless,” makes his skin crawl. He can feel his sanity slipping now. It’s an interesting, even amusing sensation. Then he sees the splayed and bloody body of his wife in the upstairs hall, and he screams. Images flood his tottering mind, from Victor Pascow’s death to the Wendigo “whose touch awakens unspeakable appetites.”
And Rachel’s not only been stabbed to death, something’s “been at her.”
Gage appears grinning, mouth and chin dripping blood. He attacks with Louis’s stolen scalpel; luckily, he’s clumsy, and Louis is able to jab the contents of two syringes into him. Gage’s monstrously contorted face returns to that of Louis’s son, unhappy, in pain, and so he too dies again. Louis crouches in a corner, thumb jammed in his mouth. It’ll be two hours before he recovers enough to turn the Crandall house into a pyre for Jud and Gage. Rachel he lovingly wraps in a sheet and carries outside.
* * *
Louis’s PA, Steve Masterton, has been worried about his friend. The day after Rachel’s call to the infirmary, he motorcycles to Ludlow to check on him. He arrives to find Jud’s house engulfed in flames. Neighbors have rushed to the scene, but there’s no sign of Louis. As siren-blaring firetrucks approach, Steve glimpses movement on the well-mown path leading from the Creeds’ backyard toward the wooded hills behind. It looks like a man carrying a large white bundle. An irrational certainty hits him that Louis is in terrible trouble. Steve’s scared, yet he feels a certain attraction to the path, and once on it he breaks into an all-out run.
He arrives at the Pet Sematary in time to see a suddenly white-haired Louis climbing its terminal deadfall with the insouciance of a sleepwalker. This close, Steve sees his burden is a body swathed in a bedsheet. The single dangling foot wears a woman’s black shoe. He’s convinced it’s Rachel’s corpse, and he screams Louis’s name.
Louis continues climbing. He reaches the top of the deadfall and begins to descend the other side miraculously unscathed. Back on the ground and heading deeper into the woods, he finally turns toward Steve, who’s struck dumb by how much his face has aged. Louis’s mouth twitches, as if he’s trying to smile. He says he’s going to bury Rachel—will have to do it bare-handed, which will take a long time, given the stoniness of the soil. Maybe Steve could give him a hand?
Steve’s horrified to realize he wants to help Louis; burying someone up in the woods seems so… natural. When Louis adds that he waited too long with Gage, that Rachel will be different, it’s clear he’s gone insane. Even so, when Louis tells him how to climb the deadfall safely, Steve tries it. He gets to the top, at which point Louis warns him not to worry about strange sounds—it’s just the loons down south. Figuratively, Steve totters between following Louis or not. What’s about to happen seems “very important. It seems like a secret. Like a mystery.” Then a branch snaps underfoot, and Steve actually totters. He just manages to make it back to the Pet Sematary.
Maybe Louis has killed Rachel, he thinks. He’s utterly mad—but there’s something worse, something in the woods acting like a magnet on Steve’s own brain.
A “low, chuckling laugh” rises, so huge Steve can’t imagine what sort of creature could be the source. Panic grips him, sending him running back toward houses and the road. Afterwards, he’ll remember little about this day, but in dreams “he would sense that something huge had shrugged by him—something which had reached out to touch him… and had then withdrawn its inhuman hand at the very last second.” The next year he will move to St. Louis. And he’ll never go to Ludlow again.
* * *
The police come late in the afternoon to question Louis. He wears a hat over his white hair, gloves on his ruined hands. They don’t seem to suspect anything.
That night he plays solitaire until long after midnight. At last the back door opens, and he thinks “What you buy is what you own, and sooner or later what you own will come back to you.”
“Slow gritting footsteps” approach, and a cold hand descends on his shoulder. Rachel’s voice, too, is “grating, full of dirt.”
“Darling,” it says.
What’s Cyclopean: Not-Gage’s eyes are “baleful, insectile in their stupid hate.”
The Degenerate Dutch: Steve Masterton was warned, in college, that being part of the Atheists’ Society could hurt his chances for a med school scholarship. His skepticism, however, doesn’t keep him from sensing something very wrong in the woods.
Madness Takes Its Toll: Louis’s sanity collapses, because sanity would get in the way of one last terrible choice. This is reflected by his hair going white, not even overnight but in a single moment of horror.
Anne’s Commentary
My last blog about Pet Sematary was all about the “if-onlies,” the character decisions and actions that could have prevented catastrophe, or the chance circumstances and events that could have saved the characters from themselves. The closing chapters of the novel provoke me to add some last if-onlies to the list:
If only Louis’s response to the carnage at Jud’s house had been to leave bad enough alone. Instead he tries to cut his losses by hauling Rachel’s corpse to the burial ground. There’s some twisted reasoning to this act, I guess. Of the human corpses deposited there—at least the ones Louis knows of—Rachel’s is the freshest. The fresher in, the less screwed-up out.
Although Church was pretty fresh, too.
If only the police who investigated the Crandall fire had checked out the rental car in the driveway. Rachel’s purse is in plain sight, presumably holding her driver’s license and other IDs. Maybe she died in the fire; its ashes have yet to be raked for victims’ remains. Or maybe she’s returned to her own house. In which case, not finding her there, wouldn’t they have questioned Louis more closely and taken him into protective custody? Not, I guess, that undead Rachel would have quietly returned to her stony grave just because she came home to an empty house.
If only PA Steve had arrived in Ludlow before Louis had gotten such a head start to the Pet Sematary and beyond. He might then have prevented Rachel’s resurrection and gotten Louis help. That’s if Louis didn’t disable or kill his would-be rescuer.
But…
The difference between these if-onlies and the previous set is that none would lead to a much happier ending. Or, let’s get real, to a much less miserable ending. The effective end of all tolerable ever-afters comes to Louis when he sees that not only has Rachel been killed, she’s been cannibalized. The legends are true: Who the Wendigo touches, it makes into a monster of “unspeakable appetites.” Too much. There’s a “(!CLICK!)” in Louis’s head, “the sound of some relay fusing and burning out forever.” The last connection to his former realities has snapped, and his sanity is bleeding out of the rupture.
No more if-onlies. On to “what-happens-next.” The novel ends with Louis avoiding detention at least long enough to receive Rachel home. She approaches him from behind, puts a hand on his shoulder, and grates, “Darling.” That’s it, cut to black and let the reader’s imagination take over. Is Rachel-returned going to be less a monster of “unspeakable appetites” than Church and Gage? Less malignant than Timmy Baterman? Grateful to Louis for rescuing her from Oz the Great and Terrible? Furious at Louis for burning Gage’s dead-again corpse instead of saving it for a second resurrection? After all, if you’re going to have one Returned in the family, why not two? What about Ellie? Leave her with Grandpa and Grandma? Hope that her psychic abilities may allow her to rejoin her sanity-challenged and post-living family? She did get used to Church 2.0 after a while, though she no longer loved the cat. Also, she got along pretty well with Pascow’s ghost when he slipped into her dreams. Can we hope to see Ellie strolling hand in hand with her parents through Disney World?
Uh, no. I don’t think Disney World is in any of the Creeds’ futures. If Louis survives Rachel’s return, he’ll still be so deeply traumatized that there’s no road back for him. The loss of both parents as well as Gage will likely leave Ellie broken; the question then will be whether she can heal, and to what extent.
There are two Pet Sematary movies, plus a prequel and sequel. Pet Sematary-1989 follows the novel closely. Pet Sematary-2019 makes a major change to the plot: It’s Ellie, not Gage, who dies in the road and whom Louis resurrects. I find the returned Ellie scarier than 1989’s returned Gage, who reminds me too much of Chucky. Besides, Ellie’s age has given her more personality and history; that makes her close-but-not-close-enough resemblance to the living Ellie the more harrowing.
PPet Sematary-1989 adds a brief coda to King’s ending. Louis embraces the resurrected Rachel. She takes advantage of his distraction to stab him (presumably to death) with a steak knife. Pet Sematary-2019 draws out the agony. Louis wakes up in time to see Rachel lowering Gage out the window of the bathroom in which she’s taken shelter from Ellie. He catches Gage and locks him for safety into Rachel’s car. Meanwhile, Ellie stabs Rachel, whose dying words to Louis are: Don’t bury me in the Pet Sematary. He doesn’t get a chance to honor her request, because Ellie knocks him out and drags her mother up to the burial ground. Rachel returns in time to save Ellie from Louis by, yep again, stabbing him. She and Ellie drag Louis into the woods. Back to Gage, waiting anxiously in the car. He’s glad to see Dad, Mom, and Ellie shambling toward him. Louis indicates that Gage should unlock the car doors, which Gage does. The End.
I assume Gage gets a quick trip to the burial ground, so that all the Creeds will be reunited in a second “life.”
Look out, Mickey. You may be seeing the Creed family after all.
Ruthanna’s Commentary
I was taught in high school that there were four basic types of story conflict: man versus man, man versus nature, man versus self, and man versus society. This is a dubious and oversimplified taxonomy (nor did we consider the possible variations on “man”). Nevertheless, it came to mind during the rapid wrap-up of Pet Sematary. Counting monsters as an aspect of nature, the pace for “man versus nature” here is really weird:
First half of book: normal life punctuated by normal death, and intro the power and problems of the burial ground.
Second half of book, minus a handful of chapters: unbearable death, followed by extremely slow build-up to Louis choosing to use the burial ground, and slow-train-crash implementation of that plan as everyone else fails to stop him.
3 chapters: Gage and Church easily kill everyone but Louis.
1 chapter: Louis easily re-kills Gage and Church.
1 chapter: Louis goes and makes the same mistake over again. Masterson doesn’t stop him but doesn’t get grabbed by Wendy either.
Epilogue: Mistake appears, with consequences by implication.
The actual killing is very brief, with little meaningful resistance: both the killing by the monster puppets and the killing of the monster puppets. This pacing isn’t built around those confrontations. It’s built around Louis versus temptation: by Wendy, sure, but the fundamental conflict here is Louis versus Louis. Louis the doctor (and husband, and father) who knows death is natural, versus Louis the doctor (and husband, and father) who can’t accept his lack of absolute control. His conviction that he can overcome the risks of the unknown through pure rationality. His conviction that he can undo what he’s done, if it turns out to be a mistake, with no one the wiser. And yes, Wendy has its claws in him, but I think there’s a reason it uses him, and that it’s stronger in his presence than in all those prior years of dogs and bulls and Vietnam vets. Louis doesn’t simply have bad timing: he’s an opportunity.
Even Stephen King knows, at some level, that toxic masculinity is a fatal flaw—and that its fatalities aren’t always well-contained.
Because the danger here, fundamentally, comes from Louis not being able to handle failing at the impossible. He’s been raised and educated to find his worth in protecting his family, not expressing easy affection to them. To find emotional comfort in sex with his wife, not conversation. To make hard decisions on his own, not in collaboration. And to be the last stand between mortals and death, regardless of whether there’s any meaningful ground there on which to stand.
Under mundane-ish circumstances, this results in someone like Jud: a well-meaning guy who drinks too much, lies to his wife to “protect” her from his own weaknesses, and gives other men bad advice. You can track that advice all the way back, generation after generation, to Stanny B’s father’s north country trader and beyond. But provide a path to walk farther outside the bounds of sense and sanity, and enough pressure—of course the inheritor of all that terrible advice will walk that path. No matter the consequences for everyone around him.
Poor Rachel. She tried so hard, and now has exactly the mad death that was her worst nightmare.
And poor Ellie. Most of all, poor Ellie. Chapter 64 will be beyond all imagining.
Next week, we celebrate National Poetry Month with Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s unfinished “Cristabel”. Then in two weeks, join us as we begin our new (short-ish) longread, Hildur Knutsdottir’s The Night Guest as translated by Mary Robinette Kowal![end-mark]
The post Hitting Bottom: Stephen King’s <i>Pet Sematary</i> (Part 21) appeared first on Reactor.