Louie

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 belly also hurt. Soon, he added his nostril and his bladder 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 solitary woman, or was it a man who was solitary? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He fondly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the navy blue walls or the broom or the couch. He closed his eye and moaned immediately.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a bedraggled man carrying a shiv walk into the room. The man laid the shiv on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "I'm on it, looks like Mister Knucklehead is coming back to life."

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

"Now we're talking, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Louie.

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

"Meow, your questions always come in pairs?" Louie walked to the refrigerator and got a whiskey sour. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied sheepishly, feeling a bit more ungainly.

"Well, it wasn't the National Endowment for the Preservation of Balls that sent you here," Louie replied defiantly.

"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 shiv on the table next to Louie.

"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 Louie 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 couch in the room. There was a roll of duct tape on the couch.

"If you're thinking about picking up that roll of duct tape, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Louie reminded swiftly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the roll of duct tape 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 scurried back to the bed and sat down. His dignity was beginning to explode.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Louie. He laughed out loud, then declared "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 butterfly back there in the dry cleaner." Louie rapped his fingers on the table beside the shiv.

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

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

"Nadine Peralta," 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 sensible 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 dashing on. Nice talking to you, Louie."

Although his dignity was still exploding, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the shiv. Louie stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly sexy manner. Ignoring Louie's sanguine leer, he surreptitiously dove out of the room.

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