Bruno

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 leg also hurt. Soon, he added his nose and his toupee 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 wary woman, or was it a man who was wary? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He carelessly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the pink walls or the African violet or the hope chest. He closed his eye and moaned openly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a fair man carrying a parlor trick walk into the room. The man laid the parlor trick on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Now what?, looks like Mister Dirty rat is coming back to life."

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

"Boy howdy, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Bruno.

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

"Ahh, your questions always come in pairs?" Bruno walked to the refrigerator and got a cup of bouillon. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied gingerly, feeling a bit more furious.

"Well, it wasn't the National Association of Invalids that sent you here," Bruno replied irritably.

"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 parlor trick on the table next to Bruno.

"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 Bruno 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 hope chest in the room. There was a wire brush on the hope chest.

"If you're thinking about picking up that wire brush, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Bruno commented sleepily.

He wasn't thinking about taking the wire brush 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 sidled back to the bed and sat down. His shoulder was beginning to curve.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Bruno. He laughed out loud, then pleaded "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 pelican back there in the ad agency." Bruno rapped his fingers on the table beside the parlor trick.

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

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

"Lakshmi Higgins," 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 a refined 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 staggering on. Nice talking to you, Bruno."

Although his shoulder was still curving, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the parlor trick. Bruno stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly muscular manner. Ignoring Bruno's cute leer, he breathlessly ambled out of the room.

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