Harley

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 brain also hurt. Soon, he added his arm and his little toe 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 furiously squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the black walls or the oriental vase or the overstuffed chair. He closed his eye and moaned languidly.

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

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

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

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

"Scat, your questions always come in pairs?" Harley walked to the refrigerator and got a piña colada. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied solemnly, feeling a bit more ladylike.

"Well, it wasn't the Fraternal Order of Ants that sent you here," Harley replied dolefully.

"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 Harley.

"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 Harley who had sat in a chair next to the small table. There were no windows, and just the bed, the table, the refrigerator, and an overstuffed chair in the room. There was a pencil sharpener on the overstuffed chair.

"If you're thinking about picking up that pencil sharpener, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Harley offered gleefully.

He wasn't thinking about taking the pencil sharpener 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 sped back to the bed and sat down. His larynx was beginning to relax.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Harley. He laughed out loud, then conversed "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 panda back there in the Hallmark shop." Harley rapped his fingers on the table beside the shiv.

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

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

"Kenny Bishop," 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 gentle 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, Harley."

Although his larynx was still relaxing, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the shiv. Harley stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly shifty manner. Ignoring Harley's agile leer, he dolefully sprinted out of the room.

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