The Shrinking Man by Richard Matheson Read Free Book Online

covered him. He drew back from her, feeling almost ashamed. His hands fell from her body.
    “Honey, what
is
it?” she said.
    “You don’t know, do you?” He was shocked by the trembling sound of his own voice.
    His hands went up quickly to his cheeks and he saw in her eyes that she suddenly knew.
    “Oh,
sweetheart
,” she said, bending forward. Her warm lips pressed at his. He sat there stiffly. The caress and the tone of voice and the kiss—they were not the passionate caress and tone and kiss of a woman who craved her husband’s want. They were the sounds and touches of a woman who felt only loving pity for a poor creature who desired her.
    He turned away.
    “Honey, don’t,” she begged, taking hold of his hand. “How could I know? There hasn’t been a bit of love-making between us in the last two months; not a kiss or an embrace or—”
    “There wasn’t exactly time for it,” he said.
    “But that’s the whole point,” she said. “How could I help but be surprised? Is it so odd?”
    His throat contracted with a dry, clicking sound.
    “I suppose,” he said, barely audible.
    “Oh, honey.” She kissed his hand. “Don’t make it sound as if I—turned you away.”
    He let breath trickle out slowly from his nostrils.
    “I guess it… would be rather grotesque, anyway,” he said, trying to sound detached. “The way I look. It’d be like—”
    “Honey, please.” She wouldn’t let him finish. “You’re making it worse than it is.”
    “Look at me,” he said. How much worse can it get?”
    “Scott.
Scott
.” She pressed his small hand to her cheek. “If only I could say something to make it all right.”
    He stared past her, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s not your fault,” he said.
    “Oh, why don’t they
call
? Why don’t they
find
it?”
    He knew then that his desire was impossible. He’d been a fool even to think of it.
    “Hold me, Scott,” she said.
    He sat motionless for a few seconds, chin down, the fixed dullness of his eyes sealing the mask of defeat that was his face. Then he drew back his right hand and slid it behind her; it seemed as if the hand would never reach her other side. His stomach muscles flexed in slowly. He wanted to get up from the couch and leave. He felt puny and absurd beside her, a ludicrous midget who had planned the seduction of a normal woman. He sat there stiffly, feeling the warmth of her body through the silk. And he’d rather have died than tell her that the weight of her arm across his shoulders was hurting him.
    “We could… work it out,” she suggested in a different voice. “We—”
    His head twisted back and forth in erratic motions as though he were looking for escape. “Oh, stop it, will you? Let it go. Forget it. I was a fool to…”
    His right hand pulled back and clamped tensely on the knuckles of his left hand. He squeezed until it hurt. “Just let it go,” he said. “Let it go.”
    “Honey, I’m not just saying it to be nice,” she protested. “Don’t you think I—”
    “No, I
don’t!”
he answered sharply. “And you don’t either.”
    “Scott, I know you’re hurt, but…”
    “Please, forget it.” His eyes were shut, and the words came softly, warningly through clenched teeth.
    She was still. He breathed as though he were suffocating. The room was a crypt of futility to him.
    “All right,” she whispered then.
    He bit his lower lip. He said. “Have you written your parents?”
    “My parents?” He knew she was staring at him curiously.
    “I think it might be wise,” he said, holding his voice in carefulcheck. He shrugged ineffectually. “Find out about staying with them. You know.”
    “I
don’t
know, Scott.”
    “Well… don’t you think it’s a good idea to make some recognition of the facts?”
    “Scott, what are you trying to do?”
    He lowered his chin to hide the quick swallowing movement in his throat. “I’m trying,” he said, “to plan some disposition of you and Beth in the