* * * * *
Comfortable with a cot and a mirror and a washbowl. I washed my face and lay on the cot with a washrag soaked in cold water on my throbbing eye. I must have dozed off. When I woke the Old Man was standing over me. I sat up and the rag fell off my eye.
"What's cooking, Bossman?"
I don't think his frown was completely genuine. "You, apparently."
I swung my legs over the edge of the cot and stretched. "Have a seat and a cigarette."
He sat down beside me and reached for his lighter. "Peter, I wish-"
I cut in on him. "Item one, I want my pants."
He gestured impatiently. "You'll get them. Now-"
"I said, I want my pants."
He began to get annoyed. "I told you-"