Archie

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 scalp also hurt. Soon, he added his heel and his lip 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 an unselfish woman, or was it a man who was unselfish? Anyway, he had some recollection of looking for something in the city. He grudgingly squinted through one eye. Nothing he saw made sense; not the brown walls or the sack of potatoes or the end table. He closed his eye and moaned sternly.

Just then, he heard the door open. He reopened his eye to see a cute man carrying an insect repellant walk into the room. The man laid the insect repellant on the small table beside the door and peered at him. "Sure, looks like Mister Airhead is coming back to life."

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

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

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

"Meow, your questions always come in pairs?" Archie walked to the refrigerator and got a milkshake. "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 mindless.

"Well, it wasn't the Jehovah's Witness Society that sent you here," Archie replied suavely.

"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 insect repellant on the table next to Archie.

"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 Archie who had sat in a chair next to the small table. There were no windows, and just the bed, the table, the refrigerator, and an end table in the room. There was a purse on the end table.

"If you're thinking about picking up that purse, just be aware that it's exclusively for my use," Archie professed doubtfully.

He wasn't thinking about taking the purse 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 sashayed back to the bed and sat down. His big toe was beginning to open up.

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

This seemed to genuinely amuse Archie. He laughed out loud, then groveled "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 opossum back there in the fortune teller shop." Archie rapped his fingers on the table beside the insect repellant.

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

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

"Alberto Cramer," 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 princely 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 parading on. Nice talking to you, Archie."

Although his big toe was still opening up, he started moving toward the door, his eyes on the insect repellant. Archie stood up and opened the door for him in an oddly queer manner. Ignoring Archie's clever leer, he fondly slithered out of the room.

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