She said, “Girlfriend, this is what you get for being way too nice.”

We came to the nurse’s station and I said, “We’re here to visit the guy, the one who um…”

“Which one, Mr Jones or…”

I said, “I have no idea. He was brought in last night by ambulance?”

The nurses gave each other a look. One picked up a clipboard. “So what’s his name, age, address?”

“I literally don’t know. He was just in my yard last night. That’s all I know?—”

Jen said, “Wait, he didn’t have an ID on him?”

The nurse said, “No, nothing, he’s a John Doe.”

I explained, “That’s unfortunate. Sorry, I don’t know him, but he dropped something in my yard, I think he’ll want it. I brought it for him.”

The nurse pointed. “He’s in that room, but I wouldn’t give him his valuables.” She gestured to a sword and a knife on the edge of her desk. “He’s got a lot of valuables and weapons on him. He’d be better off leaving them with you until he’s released.”

I shook my head. “I mean, I really don’t know him, I think I need to return this.”

“Fine.”

Jen asked, “When will he be released?”

“By the end of the day, if we can get a positive ID on him.”

Jenand I walked toward the wide open door on the treatment room. It was darker inside, with two beds and a curtain down the length of it.

Jen glanced at me, but I shook my head, the old man in the first bed was not the man I was there to see.

I gave him a weird wave and sort of bowed awkwardly while crossing the room. Then as I passed through the curtain to the second bed, I called in cheerily, “Hello!”

And there was the man from the middle of the night.

He was handsome, with a chiseled face almost like Superman except rougher, not quite so clean cut. Like Superman if he also rode a motorcycle, or a horse, plus he smelled of hay and smoke and musk and incense. He had brown hair and a beard, but everything seemed dark about him, like he was sooty, maybe, or his aura wasn’t lit up enough.

I glanced at Jen. Her eyes were wide, she mouthed:I call dibs.

He couldn’t see her, either of us, because his eyes were tightly closed. I said, “Sir, I’m sorry to bother you.”

His pale yellow linen shirt was pulled down one side, and across his well-formed, muscular chest he had a strap connected to a sling holding his left elbow. The bedsheets were pulled up to his waist.

He opened one eye and squinted, then he squeezed his eyes shut again. “Och nae, tis bright.”

Jen looked around. “Is it?”

I pressed closer to the bed, standing between him and the window. “Sorry to bother, but it was my lawn… last night… I’m the one who found you.”

Both his eyes opened. “Dost ye hae it?”

“What, the thing — the thing you dropped? Yes, I’ve got it.” I rummaged through my bag, asking, “What is it?”

Jen nudged me and whispered, “Rude! Why you so nosy?”

I passed it to him. “Don’t know why I just blurted that out. I’m curious...” I waited, but he didn’t explain.

Instead he placed it beside himself on the bed with his hand on it. “Thank ye for it, Mistress. Where am I — what is this place?”