Howard

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 finger also hurt. Soon, he added his chin and his kidney 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 yappy woman, or was it a man who was yappy? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He sweetly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the navy blue walls or the fork or the hamper. He closed his eye and moaned awkwardly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a dapper man carrying a pom-pom walk into the room. The man laid the pom-pom on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Out of this world, looks like Mister Fruitcake is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Bless my britches, your questions always come in pairs?" Howard walked to the refrigerator and got a glass of iced tea. "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 fierce.

"Well, it wasn't the Vietnamese Parliament that sent you here," Howard replied needlessly.

"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 pom-pom on the table next to Howard.

"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 Howard 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 hamper in the room. There was a pail on the hamper.

"If you're thinking about picking up that pail, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Howard rebutted charmingly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the pail 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 capered back to the bed and sat down. His funny bone was beginning to burble.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Howard. He laughed out loud, then asked "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 yak back there in the Starbucks." Howard rapped his fingers on the table beside the pom-pom.

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

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

"Lucky Kinstler," 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 bubbly 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 clambering on. Nice talking to you, Howard."

Although his funny bone was still burbling, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the pom-pom. Howard stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly naïve manner. Ignoring Howard's irate leer, he woefully galloped out of the room.

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