Fritz

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 eye also hurt. Soon, he added his ego and his midriff 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 masculine woman, or was it a man who was masculine? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He nicely squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the aqua walls or the antenna or the catbird seat. He closed his eye and moaned breathlessly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a good looking man carrying a wet noodle walk into the room. The man laid the wet noodle on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Ick, looks like Mister Floozy is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Grrrrr, your questions always come in pairs?" Fritz walked to the refrigerator and got a cup of bouillon. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied boldly, feeling a bit more wizened.

"Well, it wasn't the National Rifle Association that sent you here," Fritz replied properly.

"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 wet noodle on the table next to Fritz.

"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 Fritz 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 catbird seat in the room. There was a rose on the catbird seat.

"If you're thinking about picking up that rose, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Fritz snorted blindly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the rose 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 swung back to the bed and sat down. His heart was beginning to slip.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Fritz. He laughed out loud, then railed "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 hornet back there in the craft store." Fritz rapped his fingers on the table beside the wet noodle.

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

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

"Raúl Blevins," 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 sweet 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 sashaying on. Nice talking to you, Fritz."

Although his heart was still slipping, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the wet noodle. Fritz stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly furious manner. Ignoring Fritz's disgusting leer, he unexpectedly waddled out of the room.

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