face was clean and the top sheet of the proctor's bed had been folded neatly down to his midsection. Susannah had dressed him in a clean white shirt she'd found somewhere (in the proctor's closet was Jake's guess), and she must have found a razor, too, because his cheeks were smooth. Jake tried to imagine her sitting here and shaving the face of her dead husband-singing "Commala-come-come, the rice has just begun" as she did it-and at first he couldn't. Then, all at once, the image came to him, and it was so powerful that he had to struggle once again to keep from bursting into sobs.
She listened quietly as Roland spoke to her, sitting on the side of the bed, hands folded in her lap, eyes downcast. To the gunslinger she looked like a shy virgin receiving a marriage proposal.
When he had finished, she said nothing.
"Do you understand what I've told you, Susannah?"
"Yes," she said, still without looking up. "I'm to bury my man.
Ted and Dinky will help me, if only to keep their friends-" she gave this word a bitterly sarcastic litde twist that actually encouraged Roland a bit; she was in there after all, it seemed "-from taking him away from me and lynching his body from a sour apple tree."
"And then?"
"Either you'll find a way to come back here and we'll return to Fedic together, or Ted and Dinky will put me on the train and I'll go there alone."
Jake didn't just hate the cold disconnection in her voice; it terrified him, as well. 'You know why we have to go back to the other side, don't you?" he asked anxiously. "I mean, you knoiu, don't you?"
"To save the writer while there's still time." She had picked up one of Eddie's hands, and Jake noted with fascination that his nails were perfectly clean. What had she used to get die dirt out from beneath them, he wondered-had the proctor had one of those little nail-care gadgets, like the one his father always kept on a keychain in his pocket? "Sheemie says we've saved the Beam of Bear and Turtle. We think we've saved the rose. But there's at least one more job to do. The writer. The lazybones writer." Now she did look up, and her eyes flashed.
Jake suddenly thought it might be good that Susannah wouldn't be with them when-if-they met sai Stephen King.
"You bettah save him," she said. Both Roland and Jake could hear old sneak-thief Detta creeping into her voice. "After what's happened today, youjust bettah. And this time, Roland, you tell him not to stop with his writin. Not come hell, high water, cancer, or gangrene of the dick. Never mind worryin about the Pulitzer Prize, neither. You tell him to go on and be donewith his motherfuckin story."
"I will pass the message on," Roland said.
She nodded.
"You'll come to us when this job is finished," Roland said, and his voice rose just slightly on the last word, almost turning it into a question. 'You'll come with us and finish the final job, won't you?"
"Yes," she said. "Not because I want to-all the spit and git is out of me-but because it wanted me to." Gently, very gently, she put Eddie's hand back on his chest with the other one. Then she pointed a finger at Roland. The tip trembled minutely. "Just don't start up with any of that we are ka-tet, we are one from many crap. Because those days are gone. Ain't they?"
"Yes," Roland said. "But the Tower still stands. And waits."
"Lost my taste for that, too, big boy." Not quite los'mah tase fo'dat, too, but almost. "Tell you the truth."
But Jake realized that she was not telling the truth. She hadn't lost her desire to see the Dark Tower any more than Roland had. Any more than Jake had himself. Their tet might be broken, but ka remained. And she felt it just as they did.
FIFTEEN
They kissed her (and Oy licked her face) before leaving.
"You be careful, Jake," Susannah said. "Come back safe, hear? Eddie would have told you the same."
"I know," Jake said, and then kissed her again. He was smiling because he could hear Eddie telling him to watch his ass, it was cracked already, and starting to cry once more for the same reason. Susannah held him tight a moment longer, then let him go and turned back to her husband, lying so still and cold in the proctor's bed. Jake understood that she had little time