Donnie Bob

His head was muddled and it was dark. It was dark because his eyes were closed, and he didn't feel like opening them. His head hurt. He considered that briefly, then became aware that his paw also hurt. Soon, he added his dignity and his carotid artery to the list, and thought it might be more productive to make a list of what didn't hurt. No, that produced nothing.

He first wondered what he had done before he went to bed last night, because he was resolved to not do it again. He tried to stop thinking about anything, because it hurt to think.

Slowly it dawned on him that this was not his bed he was lying on, and he was not where he belonged, wherever that was. He thought there had been a statuesque woman, or was it a man who was statuesque? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He obediently squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the navy blue walls or the jar of olives or the hammock. He closed his eye and moaned frantically.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a gaunt man carrying a pair of scissors walk into the room. The man laid the pair of scissors on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Sacre bleu, looks like Mister Shrew is coming back to life."

He suppressed another moan and asked, "Where am I? And who are you?"

"Whee, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Donnie Bob.

That was all he wanted to try to absorb at the moment anyway, so he closed his eye again and tried to get away. He immediately opened both eyes and asked, "What am I here for? Can I have something to drink?"

"Yeehah, your questions always come in pairs?" Donnie Bob walked to the refrigerator and got a hot toddy. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied softly, feeling a bit more direct.

"Well, it wasn't the Couriers Club that sent you here," Donnie Bob replied suspiciously.

"And this doesn't look like a hospital. By the way, where's the bathroom? Who are you working for?" He did need the bathroom, but he also wanted to scope the place out a bit. He wasn't forgetting the pair of scissors on the table next to Donnie Bob.

"There you go again. That's two questions. The bathroom's over there," he said, gesturing with his head.

Sitting up slowly and gingerly, he looked around the room. The bathroom door was to his left. The other door was in front of him, beside Donnie Bob who had sat in a chair next to the small table. There were no windows, and just the bed, the table, the refrigerator, and a hammock in the room. There was a cactus plant on the hammock.

"If you're thinking about picking up that cactus plant, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Donnie Bob simpered openly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the cactus plant at the moment. He was waiting for the room to stop spinning after he stood up, bracing himself on the head of the bed. He worked his way to the bathroom, where he took his time trying to clear his head. He splashed some water on his face, then jumped back to the bed and sat down. His hip was beginning to awaken.

"If it's not too much trouble, how about you call me a cab now?"

This seemed to genuinely amuse Donnie Bob. He laughed out loud, then asked "You won't be needing a cab to get where you're going."

Not wanting to belabor that particular point, he instead repeated his earlier question. "Who are you working for?"

"So let's you tell me who you're working for, and why you were snooping around like a zebra back there in the gym." Donnie Bob rapped his fingers on the table beside the pair of scissors.

"I was looking for my friend. Who hit me?"

"You tripped on a pop bottle. You took a bad fall. Who is this friend you were looking for?"

"Bosco Hughes," he lied. "Who do you work for, and why are you keeping me here?"

"Nobody's keeping you here. That would be way too much trouble. Who wants to deal with an undignified guest? We just wanted to chat while we help you get back on your feet."

"Okay, we chatted and I'm on my feet," (barely, he thought to himself), "so I'll just be tumbling on. Nice talking to you, Donnie Bob."

Although his hip was still awakening, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the pair of scissors. Donnie Bob stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly charming manner. Ignoring Donnie Bob's silly leer, he accidentally rushed out of the room.

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