1942

1942 was the year Timmy Baterman, one of roughly twenty young men from the town of Ludlow, went overseas to fight in World War II. He left that year, and he returned in a flag-draped coffin in 1943, killed in Italy. His father, Bill Baterman, a lifelong resident of Ludlow, received the telegram and seemed to go quiet and crazy at the same time. He knew about the Micmac burying ground beyond the Pet Sematary, and he had already decided what he was going to do.

The Baterman Story

Jud Crandall, who was one of the railroad men who unloaded Timmy Baterman's coffin at the Orrington depot, later told Louis Creed the full story. The coffin was unloaded by four railroad men, Jud among them, while an army officer from Graves and Registration sat drunk in a boxcar that still held twelve other coffins. Bill Baterman stood by, his face stony and dry, weeping no tears. Timmy's body was taken to the Greenspan Funeral Home and buried two days later in Pleasantview Cemetery with full military honors. But Bill Baterman had already decided to use the Micmac burying ground. He dug up his son's body and reburied it there.

The Return

Four or five days after the burial, the mailwoman, Marjorie Washburn, saw Timmy walking up the road toward York's Livery Stable. She was so frightened she nearly drove off the road. She described him as pale, dressed in old chino pants and a faded flannel hunting shirt despite the ninety-degree heat, with his hair sticking up in the back and his eyes like raisins stuck in bread dough. Other people saw him too. A woman named Mrs. Stratton saw him from her porch, standing at the edge of the road, his hands dangling at his sides and his head pushed forward. When he turned, it was like watching a drunk man try to do an about-face. He grinned at her and asked if she still had those jazz records, because he wouldn't mind cutting a rug with her. Many people saw Timmy Baterman walking back and forth along the Pedersen Road, back and forth all day, his shirt untucked, his face pale, his hair in spikes, his fly sometimes unzipped. He moved like a zombie in a movie, but there was something more—something sly going on behind his eyes.

The Confrontation and Aftermath

A group of town leaders, including Jud Crandall, went to the Baterman place to confront Bill. They found him sitting on his back stoop with a pitcher of beer, looking damned, his eyes sunk back in their sockets. Timmy was at the back of the yard, staring up at the red sun. When the men tried to reason with Bill, Timmy walked over to them. He stank of the grave. He began to speak, revealing terrible secrets: he told Alan Purinton that his wife was sleeping with the man she worked with; he told George Anderson that his grandson was only waiting for him to die to get his money, calling him "old wooden-leg" behind his back; he told Hannibal Benson something bad; and he told Jud something bad too. He only spoke of the bad things, the hidden shames. Two nights later, the Baterman place burned flat. Range oil had been splashed from one end of the house to the other. Timmy had been shot twice in the chest with a pistol Bill Baterman kept handy. Bill had then sat down in his easy chair, spilled the oil, and shot himself. The county medical examiner said it looked like Timmy Baterman had been dead for two or three weeks before the fire. Jud told Louis this story as a warning, to show him what could happen when someone tried to bring a person back from the dead using the power of that place.