By Philip Johnson
Chapter One
His name was Sam Conklin, just over six feet tall, twenty nine years old and reasonably handsome. He had medium brown hair that parted on the right because he was left handed and he was clean shaven. Sam owned the right half of a duplex that was empty on the left half and had been empty for several weeks. When Sam was home he preferred to wear shorts even well into the fall when everybody else was pulling out the sweatshirts and he frequently shunned a shirt. Shorts and loafers were about it unless he expected company. There were four duplexes arranged in a circle around a cul de sac and that provided each duplex with some semblance of a private backyard. They were all very similar, two bedrooms and a bath and a half but they also had a small basement for storage and a washer and dryer. Because they were fairly inexpensive to own they were popular with the under forty set, though there was one crabby old couple that lived in one of the end units. Sam had decided they were bitter because they weren't under forty anymore. Considering that they were mostly younger people it was surprising that it was a fairly stable little group, mostly consisting of couples including a gay couple that lived next to the crabby older couple. Over the last couple of days the maintenance guy had been working on the back sprinkler system around the cul de sac, turning a zone on for the season and testing the sprinkler heads, fixing and repairing the ones that didn't pop up before moving to the next zone.
The for sale sign on the unit next to him came down so it was just a matter of time before he would have a new neighbor. That was one bad thing about the duplexes. Every time somebody moved out the other half of that duplex had to accept whatever moved into the unit next to them. It helped a lot to be tolerant and forgiving. After the for sale sign disappeared it continued to stay empty for a few more weeks. Sam had been working six and seven days a week so he hadn't had time to even give it much thought let alone worry about a new neighbor. When his hours were finally cut back to five days a week he felt like he was working part time.
Sam finally saw his new neighbor. She was fairly tall, longish brown hair done in a ponytail with a rubber band holding it together. She was wearing baggy sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt and beat up white athletic shoes. Understandable while she moved in but a week later she was still dressing about the same way. Good looking? Who could tell? Not even any makeup that he could detect. The tall part was about all he could be certain of. He made a point of catching her out in front and introduced himself. She might as well know what or who was living next to her. She wasn't cold exactly but very aloof and not very inclined to make small talk but he learned her name was Amy. Well at least she wouldn't be a bother to him. It was doubtful she'd have noisy parties of that he felt sure. Sam had moved in just a few weeks before so it wasn't hard for him to remember what she was going through.
He was looking at the backyard through the small window over his kitchen sink when he heard a muffled sound and then a yelp and a cry. He stood there for a second and then wiped his hands and went out the backdoor to investigate. He didn't notice at first but when he heard her cry out again he followed the sound and found her on the ground next to a couple of low bushes. She was on her back and crying and mumbling something. "Amy what happened?"
She was still moaning and mumbling but he got, "I tripped over something."
"You okay?"
"Hell I don't know." Her tone was anything but friendly but he wrote it off to her being in pain. She caught her breath and just stared at him.
"I'm Sam your next door neighbor in case you don't remember."
"Of course I remember. You just going to stand there?"
"No I was thinking I'd go back home and finish my chores."
"And leave me here?"
"I don't know, maybe. Would you like me to help you?"
She toned it down and just said, "Yes."
"Okay. Where do you hurt?"
"My right ankle and both of my wrists."
"Then I guess I'd better carry you inside." She was looking up at him standing there in his shorts and no shirt.
"You'll what?"
"That's the best way to get you in side. Of course I could drag you in by your hair caveman style or maybe by your uninjured ankle. Another alternative would be a five hundred dollar call for an ambulance."
"My God no, I don't have any insurance yet."
"Okay." He just stood there looking at her. He knew he'd help her regardless but he didn't take kindly to being treated rudely so he was going to make her work for it. She looked at him expectantly.
"Well?"
"I was waiting for you to decide how you wanted to be transported inside. If you can't decide I can come back in an hour or so."
"Damn it carry me okay?"
"Okay." He was going to make her say please but he changed his mind.
He got on his knees, worked his arms under her and managed to get her up and pulled close to his bare chest. Her right arm went behind him automatically and she tried to hold on without using her hand or bumping her wrist. It was quite a scene at her door. He couldn't reach the doorknob and she couldn't use her hand. "You'll have to wrap your arm around my neck and hang on so I can open the door." With that done he got her in and onto the couch. He straightened up and caught his breath as he surveyed the situation. "Who can I call to come help you?"
"I don't know anybody here, I'm from St. Louis."
"Amy I think we better call an ambulance for you."
"Damn it Sam I can't afford that. I don't think I broke anything."
"I could take you in my car."
"But I'd still have to pay for everything there."
"Well yeah I imagine so."
"I don't start my job for ten more days, that's why there's no insurance."
"Then I don't know what you're going to do. At the very least we have to get some ice on your wrists and ankle. Do you have any frozen peas?"
"Why do you care what's in my freezer?"
"To use as an icepack."
"Oh. No, I hate peas." "Do you have ice made?"
"Of course."
"Where are your kitchen towels?"
"Left of the sink." Sam made a couple of icepacks and did his best to put them on her wrists. Then he squatted down and started to move her pant leg up. It figured that she would choose that day to start wearing jeans.
The outside of her ankle was puffing up nicely and looked painful. "Amy I think I have an ace bandage at home somewhere. I'll get that so we can do a better job with the ice. You're ankle is really swelling. Keep it elevated and I'll be right back."
Chapter Two
Sam returned with the ace bandage and had a package of frozen peas and it only took him a minute to get her ankle wrapped. Amy seemed to be regaining some control but her eyes were still red and puffy from crying. He got her a glass of water and had her take four ibuprofen to help with the swelling and perhaps help with the pain a little. Then Sam pulled a chair closer to her and asked her, "Okay we've made temporary adjustments but do you have a plan from this point?"
She sniffed and said, "No" and she started to cry again. She was hard to understand but between sobs he managed to get, "I miss my old house, I miss my yard, I miss my friends back home and on top of that I hurt like hell, I'm almost broke and the only person to help me is you."
"Gee thanks."
"I mean you're a guy."
"I noticed that this morning when I shaved."
"No I mean I have to pee" and she cried all the harder.
That was something that Sam hadn't even considered. Sprains he knew about from high school football. Helping a woman pee was new territory for him. He stared at her for a minute trying hard to come up with a plan but it took him a couple of minutes.
"Okay. At least for this time I'll get you a towel and we can put it between your legs. You can pee into the towel and then I'll rinse it out."
"Oh Sam that's gross."
"No it isn't. Hell I've dealt with worse things than that. You don't have much choice I'm afraid."
"Oh God this is awful. There is nothing left to go wrong now. It just can't get worse than this. God how I wish I'd never left St. Louis."
"I'll get a towel. It will be okay you'll see." He was back a second later and rolled it up and then stopped. He'd forgotten about her jeans.
He went back to her bathroom and returned with her other towel and draped it across her pelvis and she watched him in disbelief as he reached under it and started to undo her button and zipper. A man she hardly even knew was taking her pants and panties off. This had to be the worst day of her life.
Once her jeans were unfastened he had her raise her hips the best she could and he started to coax them down. Too bad they fit her hips so nicely. Baggy ones would have been a lot easier. In getting her jeans down the towel wanted to move too so he'd have to stop and reposition the towel and then work on the pants again. It took him some time but he got them down and then had to unwrap her ankle so he could slide her jeans the rest of the way off. Once that was done he had to deal with her panties. He'd removed his share of women's panties but this was awkward for him. Once again he felt under the towel and started to work them down. Amy was dying of embarrassment but she kept
silent. She had to pee too much to complain anymore. "Amy do you think you can position the towel once I get it close?"
"I don't think so."
He mumbled to himself, "I was afraid of that" and proceeded. He had to touch her he couldn't help it. His hands brushed the insides of her thighs as he worked the wadded towel up against her. "Spread your legs a little more." She couldn't believe what was happening. She resigned herself to it and spread her legs and he said, "Okay. Want me to leave the room or something?"
She laughed out loud. "My God Sam after what you just did? No that won't be necessary" and when she let go it felt to her like she was going to go forever and worried that the towel wouldn't hold it. She didn't want to pee all over her sofa. She told him when she was done and he reached under the towel that was over her hips. His thought was the rolled up towel next to her thighs would stay dry and just the center would be wet but when he retrieved it he discovered it was pretty well soaked. He disappeared into the bathroom and soon returned with a washcloth. "Amy I really should clean the insides of your thighs but I won't if you don't want me to." She didn't answer him right away. She managed to get the towel that was across her pelvis between two fingers on her left hand and whipped it off.
Looking up at the ceiling in embarrassment she whined, "Damn it Sam just do what you have to do." He was frozen in place. He was looking at her nearly shaved mound. Amy didn't want to even talk to him a day ago and here he was looking at her nude below the waist. He realized he was staring and started to gently cleanse her thighs. He left to rinse the rag and returned and proceeded with his task. How much did women clean up there after they peed? He'd seen a woman or two wipe themselves and it always seemed like they were pretty thorough.
