9 Tales of Space and Time by Anthology

Author:Anthology [Anthology]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-02-20T16:00:00+00:00

Jane and Dave came to see her at ten o’clock Sunday. Bettyann was awake. “Don’t stay too long,” Wing told them. They sat for five minutes in her room, talking quietly.

Bettyann was tired and listless. She tried to reassure them. She was ashamed of herself for what she was doing to them. She began to cry. “I didn’t intend . . . I didn’t intend . . .”

She tried to choke back the tears.

Jane went to her and touched her face and Dave cleared his throat uneasily.

After they had gone, she lay staring at the smooth white ceiling. You spoil everything, she thought. You do. Everything.

She slept, awoke hungry, ate, and felt infinitely improved.

The cost of the hospital room weighed heavily on her. I’ll make it up to them, she promised herself over and over. It’s not right, she thought, I’ll . . . I’ll get a job. I’ll . . . Oh, I don’t know. I feel so awful about everything. I can’t do anything right.

Listlessly she plucked at the sheet. She stared down at her body, and for a moment she hated the sight of it.

Wing came again at four o’clock. “Hello, young lady. Feeling all right?”

“Fine,” she smiled.

“Now, now. Lie back there!” He drew up a chair to her bedside and sat down. She was still smiling at him. Her eyes had followed his every movement.

“I wondered where you’d been?” she said. “I hoped you’d be by this afternoon.”

“I intended to come earlier. I got tied up. And how are you now? Better than this morning?”

“Yes.” She wanted to reach out and touch him. “I’m much better, now.”

Looking into her face, into her eyes, deep and innocent, into her youth, Wing felt a surge of new life. Gone was the sense of weariness and frustration that had been building a shell of insensitivity against his emotions. He felt tender and kind, and the world seemed full of a potent and beautiful magic. He cleared his throat in embarrassment. “Well, well,” he said. “That’s the way I like to hear you talk.”

Without taking her eyes from his, she lay back. She moved her hand in coy distraction. She half pouted at him. “Why so solemn”

“I? Am I, now? Tired, perhaps.” He was disappointed that there was no outward transformation in his face. For a moment she had undone reality, and now she called it back. I shouldn’t work so hard, he thought. I guess it’s beginning to show. But it’s tiredness that isn’t physical, Bettyann . . . He looked around the clean bright room . . . It’s gone, he marveled.

Poor dear, she thought. “Have—have you seen Mr. Starke today?”

“He’s about the same.”

Those were terrible words, filled with ice, and they slammed into her with brutal force.

He can’t be! she cried to herself. Not, not after I’ve done all I can! Her thoughts swirled desperately to escape defeat.

I stopped it! I did, I know I did. You’ve got to see that. Use X rays again, something, anything. I’ve stopped it.

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