Vinny

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 heart also hurt. Soon, he added his toupee and his hangnail 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 bellicose woman, or was it a man who was bellicose? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He majestically squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the magenta walls or the basket or the futon. He closed his eye and moaned ignobly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a dashing man carrying a disinfectant walk into the room. The man laid the disinfectant on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Durn, looks like Mister Wingnut is coming back to life."

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

"Can you dig it?, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Vinny.

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

"Kaboom, your questions always come in pairs?" Vinny walked to the refrigerator and got a sassafras tea. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied quickly, feeling a bit more wily.

"Well, it wasn't the Christian Temperance Union that sent you here," Vinny replied gracefully.

"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 disinfectant on the table next to Vinny.

"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 Vinny 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 futon in the room. There was a cookie on the futon.

"If you're thinking about picking up that cookie, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Vinny barked repeatedly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the cookie 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 sailed back to the bed and sat down. His pinky was beginning to get scaly.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Vinny. He laughed out loud, then inquired "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 moose back there in the restaurant." Vinny rapped his fingers on the table beside the disinfectant.

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

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

"Ole Steinbeck," 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 rude 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 skittering on. Nice talking to you, Vinny."

Although his pinky was still getting scaly, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the disinfectant. Vinny stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly fuzzy manner. Ignoring Vinny's clever leer, he calmly climbed out of the room.

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