Kelly

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 front tooth also hurt. Soon, he added his adrenal gland and his artery 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 cunning woman, or was it a man who was cunning? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He shyly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the teal walls or the peach or the crib. He closed his eye and moaned quietly.

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

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

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

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

"Ay chihuahua, your questions always come in pairs?" Kelly walked to the refrigerator and got a glass of orange juice. "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 brash.

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

"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 bazooka on the table next to Kelly.

"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 Kelly 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 crib in the room. There was a pumpkin on the crib.

"If you're thinking about picking up that pumpkin, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Kelly emphasized warily.

He wasn't thinking about taking the pumpkin 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 lip was beginning to get tangled.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Kelly. He laughed out loud, then began "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 pigeon back there in the auto repair shop." Kelly rapped his fingers on the table beside the bazooka.

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

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

"Doc Ming," 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 melancholic 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 waddling on. Nice talking to you, Kelly."

Although his lip was still getting tangled, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the bazooka. Kelly stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly bold manner. Ignoring Kelly's direct leer, he carefully scampered out of the room.

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