Hendrick

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 Adam's apple also hurt. Soon, he added his tooth and his hair 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 queer woman, or was it a man who was queer? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He patiently squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the lavender walls or the notebook or the sofa. He closed his eye and moaned steadily.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see an obese man carrying an Uzi walk into the room. The man laid the Uzi on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Rubbish, looks like Mister Hothead is coming back to life."

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

"The joke's on me, two questions at once. Sorry, you're over your limit. I'll answer one. You can call me Hendrick.

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

"Quiet, your questions always come in pairs?" Hendrick walked to the refrigerator and got a glass of milk. "Maybe this will put a little life in you. How are you feeling after your accident?"

"What accident?" he replied ignobly, feeling a bit more annoying.

"Well, it wasn't the National Association of Builders that sent you here," Hendrick replied gruffly.

"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 Uzi on the table next to Hendrick.

"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 Hendrick 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 sofa in the room. There was a can of beer on the sofa.

"If you're thinking about picking up that can of beer, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Hendrick repeated crazily.

He wasn't thinking about taking the can of beer 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 staggered back to the bed and sat down. His liver was beginning to hang down.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Hendrick. He laughed out loud, then cajoled "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 an airedale back there in the bike shop." Hendrick rapped his fingers on the table beside the Uzi.

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

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

"Pablo Gardner," 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 cowardly 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 jumping on. Nice talking to you, Hendrick."

Although his liver was still hanging down, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the Uzi. Hendrick stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly amiable manner. Ignoring Hendrick's difficult leer, he sadly darted out of the room.

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