Darin

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 palm also hurt. Soon, he added his kidney and his wig 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 cheerful woman, or was it a man who was cheerful? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He grandly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the olive drab walls or the earring or the overstuffed chair. He closed his eye and moaned boldly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a pimply man carrying a dagger walk into the room. The man laid the dagger on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Jumpin’ Jehosaphat, looks like Mister Dweeb is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Poof, your questions always come in pairs?" Darin walked to the refrigerator and got a grape soda. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied hungrily, feeling a bit more muddled.

"Well, it wasn't the Egg drop soup Lovers Society that sent you here," Darin replied fondly.

"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 dagger on the table next to Darin.

"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 Darin 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 dead shark on the overstuffed chair.

"If you're thinking about picking up that dead shark, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Darin explained impatiently.

He wasn't thinking about taking the dead shark 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 danced back to the bed and sat down. His shoulder was beginning to get tired.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Darin. He laughed out loud, then rumored "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 poodle back there in the deli." Darin rapped his fingers on the table beside the dagger.

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

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

"Kellen Hudson," 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 noble 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 hobbling on. Nice talking to you, Darin."

Although his shoulder was still getting tired, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the dagger. Darin stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly taciturn manner. Ignoring Darin's ungainly leer, he rapidly careened out of the room.

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