Sven

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 artery also hurt. Soon, he added his waist and his intestine 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 silly woman, or was it a man who was silly? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He deftly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the fuchsia walls or the pair of binoculars or the footstool. He closed his eye and moaned kindly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see an attractive man carrying a dart gun walk into the room. The man laid the dart gun on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Pish posh, looks like Mister Nerd is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Excuse me, your questions always come in pairs?" Sven walked to the refrigerator and got a Dr. Pepper. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied ruefully, feeling a bit more clever.

"Well, it wasn't the U.S. Congress that sent you here," Sven replied despondently.

"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 dart gun on the table next to Sven.

"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 Sven 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 footstool in the room. There was a playing card on the footstool.

"If you're thinking about picking up that playing card, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Sven conversed swiftly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the playing card 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 straggled back to the bed and sat down. His brain was beginning to rattle.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Sven. He laughed out loud, then blurted "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 dachshund back there in the haberdashery." Sven rapped his fingers on the table beside the dart gun.

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

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

"Luann Moore," 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 comely 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 bouncing on. Nice talking to you, Sven."

Although his brain was still rattling, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the dart gun. Sven stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly crazy manner. Ignoring Sven's vile leer, he quietly stormed out of the room.

Next Chapter