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I sensed something was up. At 9:45 he sat up and turned off the TV. “We’re going to have a guest,” he announced. “I want you to show him how subservient you are to me.” I got a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. He was testing my limits again, but I didn’t know how far he would go. I couldn’t imagine he would want a three-way. For one thing, we’re too close. For another, we’ve been monogamous for a very long time, so we feel safe doing unsafe things with each other, but I know. I concluded that I'd been sapped — hit on the head with a blackjack, most likely, I guessed, the one I saw stuck into the Sam Browne belt my captor was wearing.I stared at him, and when he didn't respond, I tried, "Hey."He looked at me some more. "Why am I here?" I asked carefully. He continued to stare, a look that frankly was beginning to creep me out a bit. I tried again. "Look, pal, I'll take the concussion and the free ride, but I think some answers wouldn't be out of line. What's going. It showed some wear and tear, but it was a miracle that this thing even ran at its age.“It was an old ... friend’s,” she replied cagily.A slim brunette woman in tight coveralls, probably in her late 20’s, got out of the car.“Thanks, Elle!” Demie pecked the woman on the cheek and dropped a roll of cash into her hand.“No problem, Demie ... glad to get to work on one of these!” She winked at me. “Hey there.”“Hey,” I replied. Elle had a smudge of grease on her chin, which somehow made her even. "Thank you, doctor. I appreciate all you and your staff have done for me. I feel like I've spent half my life in this hospital, even though it's only been five months. I'll be back in three months for my first checkup."I rode out of the hospital in the obligatory wheelchair into the cold, wet daylight of Minneapolis. There was no one to meet me other than the cab driver who would take me to my apartment building. I would be on long-term disability for some time yet, so I wasn't worried about.
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