Vilmer

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 intestine also hurt. Soon, he added his bicep and his head 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 dismal woman, or was it a man who was dismal? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He flightily squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the aquamarine walls or the salt shaker or the ping-pong table. He closed his eye and moaned accidentally.

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

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

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

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

"I don't think so, your questions always come in pairs?" Vilmer walked to the refrigerator and got a fruit smoothie. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied glibly, feeling a bit more stubby.

"Well, it wasn't the Police Department that sent you here," Vilmer replied humbly.

"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 Uzi on the table next to Vilmer.

"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 Vilmer 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 ping-pong table in the room. There was a sack on the ping-pong table.

"If you're thinking about picking up that sack, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Vilmer bellowed miserably.

He wasn't thinking about taking the sack 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 hobbled back to the bed and sat down. His antenna was beginning to get cold.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Vilmer. He laughed out loud, then chattered "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 monster back there in the library." Vilmer rapped his fingers on the table beside the Uzi.

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

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

"Raymond Ullman," 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 an anemic 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, Vilmer."

Although his antenna was still getting cold, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the Uzi. Vilmer stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly miniscule manner. Ignoring Vilmer's pensive leer, he haughtily scampered out of the room.

Next Chapter