Woman by Richard Matheson

Charlie. And tell him how sorry I am."
     
         "Yeah," she said,
she looked at him questioningly for another few moments, then moved over and
kissed him on top of the head. "You'll be all right?" she asked.
     
         "I'll be fine. I won't
be tap-dancing but I'll manage."
     
         She smiled a little,
"All right," she said, "Just. . .stay off it."
     
         "I will." He
managed to return her smile.
     
         "I'll call you from the
hospital to see how you're doing," she told him.
     
         "Just call to tell me
how Charlie is," he said.
     
         She nodded and went back
into the bedroom. Wincing and hissing again, David got up and lurched to the
sofa,slumping down on it. He worked his right foot out of its slipper, groaning
softly as he did, then lay back on the sofa, propping his right leg on a
pillow. "Whoa," he
mumbled. He felt like an idiot for doing this. He hadn't sprained his ankle for
years. "Perfect time to do it," he mumbled.
     
         Fifteen minutes later, Liz
came out of the bedroom, wearing a skirt and a jacket over her sweater.
"I'll come back as soon as possible," she told him. "And I'll
call from the hospital to see how you're doing."
     
         "Okay." He nodded.
     
         As she left the apartment,
David leaned back on a sofa pillow he placed under his head. "Idiot," he murmured. He looked
concerned. How could he possibly make that conference now? And he'd canceled
his appearance on the radio, having them play a recording made yesterday.
"Dear God," he complained. "One thing after another." He
closed his eyes. Did he have an ankle brace he could wear? He didn't think so.
     
         He opened his eyes, hearing
a knock on the door. "What's the matter, did you forget something?" he
called.
     
         There was no reply. Another
knock. "Is it locked?" he asked loudly. "I don't know," he thought Liz
answered. "I hope not!" he said. "I can't get over there right now!" The door
opened and Ganine came in, wearing a tweed skirt and a snug beige sweater under
her jacket.
     
         For several seconds, David
couldn't speak. The sight of her was so disconcerting to him.
     
         "Ganine, you can't come
in," he told her. "I'm sorry but you'll have to leave."
     
         She closed the door, looking
at him pleadingly. "Ganine, I mean it," he said, scowling. She moved toward the sofa. "Are
you hurt?" she asked. "Ganine—!" He felt angrily frustrated.
"You cannot come
in!" Impulsively, he tried to stand but fell back with a cry of pain.
     
         "You are hurt," she said, a disturbed
look on her face.
     
         "Ganine, please?" he asked. He felt helpless
as she crossed the living room. "I cannot talk to you now." He felt an undercurrent of uneasiness about
her being there.
     
         "I can help you,"
she told him.
     
         "Oh, for God's
sake," he said. " Ineed to be alone."
     
         "Please, I can help
you," she said.
     
         He felt a shudder up his
back. Now what was she going
to do? he wondered. He felt increasingly nervous about her, about what she
seemed capable of doing.
     
         "Did you hurt your
ankle?" she asked. He had the sudden feeling that she'd made it happen. That was ridiculous
though. He wouldn't allow himself to succumb to such a childish notion.
"Yes. I did," he said. "Now will you please go? I can't talk
with you right now."
     
         It was as though he hadn't
spoken. "My father hurt his ankle once and I rubbed it and it got
better," she told him. She kneeled beside the sofa, smiling at him
timidly.
     
         "Really, Ganine—"
he said, starting to feel strangely helpless.
     
         He gasped in pain as she put
her hands around his ankle, realizing, at that moment that he was actually
afraid of her. He tried to repress the feeling but couldn't. "What are you
doing?" he asked in a weak voice.
     
         "Just lie still,"
she told him, sounding like a little girl