Del

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 Adam's apple also hurt. Soon, he added his liver and his skull 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 funny woman, or was it a man who was funny? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He carefully squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the sea green walls or the bilge pump or the wooden crate. He closed his eye and moaned glumly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a smallish man carrying a disarming smile walk into the room. The man laid the disarming smile on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Of course, looks like Mister Wimp is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Bless my hide, your questions always come in pairs?" Del walked to the refrigerator and got a Bloody Mary. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied excitedly, feeling a bit more brilliant.

"Well, it wasn't the International Society of Gamblers that sent you here," Del replied softly.

"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 disarming smile on the table next to Del.

"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 Del 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 wooden crate in the room. There was a notepad on the wooden crate.

"If you're thinking about picking up that notepad, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Del interpreted charmingly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the notepad 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 sallied forth back to the bed and sat down. His liver was beginning to move.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Del. He laughed out loud, then screamed "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 jaguar back there in the clothing store." Del rapped his fingers on the table beside the disarming smile.

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

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

"Milton Cain," 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 pesky 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 going on. Nice talking to you, Del."

Although his liver was still moving, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the disarming smile. Del stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly spunky manner. Ignoring Del's dismal leer, he defiantly slunk out of the room.

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