Chapter 8 - In the Mood

It took Harry a full five minutes to make the trip up the stairs. He sat, wheezing, on the bench across from the reception desk and leaned forward with his head down.

"Is that you under there, Denby?" Andy asked more out of curiosity than concern.

Still holding his head low to keep from fainting, Harry managed to raise one hand to acknowledge Andy's question. Then he let his hand drop, and concentrated on breathing.

"You got a lotta nerve walkin' in here in that condition." Andy strutted over to lecture him at a closer proximity. "You know, I thought your adventure last month would have put you off the stuff for good, Denby, but I can see now that you have an uncanny ability to rebound right back to the gutter."

Harry coughed a little, and tried sitting up. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm and managed to croak out, "Diane?"

"I guess it's your lucky day. She's not here."

"Right. Marvelous."

Andy was hovering over him on the verge of letting loose with a shower insults when he noticed the hospital band on Harry's arm. He could see the pulse pounding in Harry's neck and it finally dawned on him that he was having trouble breathing.

"So, uh, you been back in the hospital recently?" he offered cautiously.

"Yes." Harry's breath was coming a little slower now. He gave Andy a brief rundown of the last week, "Helped Diane move. Rain. Pneumonia. Early discharge. Stairs."

"Oh." Andy looked around sheepishly. "Well, geez you need some water or something?"

"Please." Harry rose awkwardly to follow Andy, but Andy turned back and made him sit back down with a firm push.

"Just stay there while I get it. Don't pass out or nothin'."

Harry was beginning to regain his color and normal breathing by the time Andy returned. After Harry finished his water, he wadded up the cup and made a perfect shot into the garbage can at the other end of the room.

"Nice one."

"Thanks, Sipowicz."