Devin

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 neck also hurt. Soon, he added his thumb and his lung 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 high-strung woman, or was it a man who was high-strung? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He caustically squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the azure walls or the cupcake or the bunk bed. He closed his eye and moaned victoriously.

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

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

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

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

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

"What accident?" he replied jokingly, feeling a bit more irate.

"Well, it wasn't the University of Wyoming that sent you here," Devin replied woefully.

"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 air freshener on the table next to Devin.

"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 Devin 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 bunk bed in the room. There was a candy bar on the bunk bed.

"If you're thinking about picking up that candy bar, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Devin groveled unexpectedly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the candy bar 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 flounced back to the bed and sat down. His chin was beginning to ache.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Devin. He laughed out loud, then thought "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 groundhog back there in the used car lot." Devin rapped his fingers on the table beside the air freshener.

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

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

"Marisa Sitting Bird," 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 pert 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 hopping on. Nice talking to you, Devin."

Although his chin was still aching, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the air freshener. Devin stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly agitated manner. Ignoring Devin's dowdy leer, he gracefully dove out of the room.

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