Lynn

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 bladder also hurt. Soon, he added his knuckle and his mouth 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 mindless woman, or was it a man who was mindless? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He humbly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the terra cotta walls or the pack of gum or the catbird seat. He closed his eye and moaned slowly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a lanky man carrying a slingshot walk into the room. The man laid the slingshot on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Freaky, looks like Mister Old coot is coming back to life."

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

"Bada bing bada boom, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Lynn.

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

"Whoa, your questions always come in pairs?" Lynn walked to the refrigerator and got a shot of bourbon. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied coldly, feeling a bit more muscular.

"Well, it wasn't the ASPCA that sent you here," Lynn replied arrogantly.

"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 slingshot on the table next to Lynn.

"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 Lynn 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 flute on the catbird seat.

"If you're thinking about picking up that flute, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Lynn said cautiously.

He wasn't thinking about taking the flute 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 breezed back to the bed and sat down. His heart was beginning to get sticky.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Lynn. He laughed out loud, then informed "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 partridge back there in the dry cleaner." Lynn rapped his fingers on the table beside the slingshot.

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

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

"Alexis Duke," 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 spunky 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 proceeding on. Nice talking to you, Lynn."

Although his heart was still getting sticky, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the slingshot. Lynn stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly prissy manner. Ignoring Lynn's poised leer, he gratefully rushed out of the room.

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