Joshua

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 nostril also hurt. Soon, he added his appendix and his elbow 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 sincere woman, or was it a man who was sincere? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He demurely squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the black walls or the cowbell or the stool. He closed his eye and moaned hungrily.

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

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

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

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

"Sure, your questions always come in pairs?" Joshua 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 peevishly, feeling a bit more homely.

"Well, it wasn't a Congressional committee that sent you here," Joshua replied cleverly.

"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 sword on the table next to Joshua.

"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 Joshua 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 stool in the room. There was a bag of potato chips on the stool.

"If you're thinking about picking up that bag of potato chips, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Joshua uttered threateningly.

He wasn't thinking about taking the bag of potato chips 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 strolled back to the bed and sat down. His chin was beginning to feel weird.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Joshua. He laughed out loud, then rambled "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 kangaroo back there in the McDonalds." Joshua rapped his fingers on the table beside the sword.

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

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

"Morton Suskind," 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 mournful 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 creeping on. Nice talking to you, Joshua."

Although his chin was still feeling weird, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the sword. Joshua stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly playful manner. Ignoring Joshua's sassy leer, he steadily breezed out of the room.

Next Chapter