Perry woke up again in a bed.
The temperature was perfect. A ceiling fan directly above the bed was giving him a nice, cool breeze. The mattress was perfect, not too stiff or so soft that he sunk into it. The sheets were soft and thin.
He had never been more comfortable in his life.
The scent of the room he was in was also perfect. It smelled like his father's house, if Linda were in it cooking her famous chocolate chip cookies.
The room looked old, but it had nice furnishings. Perry could see a doorway across from his bed leading to another room.
He had no desire to use it. He was perfectly happy to sit in bed.
Where am I?
The instant the thought occurred to him, Perry sat up. He looked cautiously around the room and noticed, for the first time, that a warm dish of pasta was sitting on a small wooden desk next to the doorway, next to a full glass of milk.
Who had brought him here?
Slowly, Perry got out of bed. The carpet wasn't that great. It was thin and hard, more like a cheap rug than anything else. The walls were peeling, and the ceiling looked as though it would collapse at any moment.
A knock sounded in the distance. Perry used the doorway and found himself in a small room that smelled of old books. There was a bookshelf behind a comfortable-looking couch.
The shelf was filled with his favorite books.
Confused, Perry touched the shelf gently. Was he dreaming? Hallucinating?
What had happened to him back on that street corner?
The knock sounded again. Perry headed into the next room.
This one was empty, with the same cheap carpeting, comforting smell, and cracking walls. A door that looked like it was going to come off its hinges was at the front of the room.
Perry opened the door. A man was standing there, a large smile on his face. He was holding a pan covered in tin foil, and he was dressed in a top hat and spats.
"…Uh…" Perry wasn't sure if it was right to say "How can I help you" if he had no idea where he was or how he got here.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The man said. "You must be confused. I should come back later- wait a minute, we've met."
"…We have?" The man did look sort of familiar. Perry couldn't remember where he last saw him.
The man held out the pan. "George Johnson Robert Milton Brown. But you can call me Mr. Brown. Here, I brought homemade brownies. I suppose we'll be neighbors from now on."
"…Neighbors? I… sir, there's been a mistake. You see, I think I may be hallucinating. I was in Danville a second ago, and then there was this zebra, and then some guy… and then I woke up here. And the fact that you understand what I'm saying… and you're human… yeah, I'm crazy. I should go back to bed. Did you see anyone bring me here?"
"Ah." Mr. Brown said sadly. "So… you don't know. I shouldn't have come. I should have waited."
"Can it, Mr. Brownie. What've I told you about greeting the newbies before I've explained everything to them? You're gonna confuse their brains out." A dog said, shoving the man aside. His eyes narrowed when he saw Perry. "You again?"
"…I…" Perry frowned. "…Daly? Daly, why…"
"Normally, I'd just say welcome, new guy." Daly said. "But in your case… welcome back to Gluum."
...
"Am I…" Perry asked. He couldn't get the words out. "I… am…"
"No, you're not dead." Daly said, looking slightly annoyed. "I'd know if you were. But I'd say you're in some bad shape if you managed to build a house here. Not dead, though. This is the second time you've managed to come down here while still tied to the real world. You must have some strong connections."
"So… I'm alive? You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
"What happened?"
"You tell me." Daly shrugged.
"I was standing on this street corner… it was raining… and then I heard this loud noise, and there was this bright light…"
"Hm." Daly said.
"How do I get back up?" Perry asked.
"Depends." Daly said. "You only get back up if you force yourself into consciousness. Which is difficult. Your soul needs to connect to your brain, and right now, that's like attempting to yell hello to someone in Australia while you're living in New York."
"How do I force myself?"
"Depends, like I said. You either figure out what's wrong with you and work from there, or wait until you get back up."
Perry sighed and sat down on the floor.
"Hey, it's not so bad." Daly said. "How did you find your home? Well, it's home for as long as you spend time here. Comfy? Food's to your taste?"
"Yeah." Perry admitted.
"Should be." Daly said proudly. "Gluum homes try to fit to the comfort of their owners."
"I'll just put these in here and be on my way." Mr. Brownie said, putting the tray inside the house. Perry had forgotten he was there.
"Anyway, no use moping." Daly said. "Get out and meet some of your neighbors. You'll find everyone's pretty nice around here. And of course, your friend's here."
Perry smiled a little. Knowing he was going to see Terrence again almost made him feel better.
But he wanted to know that he was going to see the boys again.
...
"Checkmate." Peter said.
"Peter, I told you. You don't say that until you capture my king." Kyle said.
"Oh." Peter picked up the king.
"You have to MOVE there, Peter. With the chess pieces."
"Let's play Candyland. I'm better at that." Peter said.
"QUIET, Agents." Ernest snapped from the red armchair in the corner of the room. "I'm reading."
Lightning flashed outside, and Carrie the cat sped across the room to hide under the piano bench.
"Come to think of it, why do we have a piano bench?" Kyle asked. "We don't even have a piano."
Peter shrugged.
"Carl!" Monogram called, coming into the room. "Have any of you agents seen Carl? His phone's been ringing."
Peter and Kyle shrugged.
Pinky, Darren and Devon shook their heads.
Carrie poked her paw out from under the piano bench to give Monogram a thumbs-down sign.
"You're a great help." Monogram mumbled.
"Here I am, sir!" Carl said, running into the room.
"Thank goodness. If I have to listen to 'That's Wings, You Turkey' one more time…"
"It was the cheapest ringtone available, sir. I didn't have much cash after the incident we had with the new recruits and the couch…"
The agency phone began to ring. Monogram sighed and picked it up.
"O.W.C.A Headquarters Speaking. Unless you have evil intentions, then this is NOT the O.W.C.A Headquarters and what would you like on your pizza?"
Monogram listened.
"I made up Epic Chess!" Peter said, knocking Kyle's king out of the way.
"Shh!" Pinky whispered. Monogram's facial expression was disconcerting.
"….Okay… where is he now? Is he all right? …Yes, I understand. Thank you. I'll be right there." Monogram hung up and looked at Carl. "There was an accident. Agent P was hit by a car."
The agents all gasped.
"What happened?" Carl asked.
"Apparently the man in the truck lost control of his steering wheel. It's bad. He's been rushed into emergency surgery. They've been trying to contact us for an hour now. We have to get to the hospital."
"I'll get the van pulled up right away, sir." Carl said nervously.
Carrie had partially emerged from under the piano bench, looking upset. Even Ernest looked worried.
Carl brought the van over to the front doors. Monogram pocketed his keys and quickly made his way to the exit.
Ernest, Pinky and Devon followed.
"No." Monogram said sternly. "You three stay here."
...
"How dare they make us wait, Carl?"
"Well, to be fair, sir-"
"Shut up, Carl!"
Carl sighed. The Major was impossible when he was worried.
A man in a white coat holding a clipboard came up to them. "Are you Major Francis Monogram?"
"Yes." Monogram said, hurriedly standing.
"I just came to let you know Perry's out of surgery."
"Will he be okay?" Monogram asked.
"We can't tell at this point. Once he's in a stable state we'll be able to figure out how best to help him."
Monogram sat down, looking devastated.
"I'm sorry, sir." The man said. "Remain hopeful. He survived the surgery, which is usually the hardest part. I'll let you know when I get more news."
The man left.
Monogram let out a shaky breath. "I can't lose him, Carl. Not now."
"It'll be okay, sir." Carl said. "Agent P's really tough."
"Dad?"
Carl narrowed his eyes. He knew that voice. He hated that voice.
"Son!" Monogram pulled Monty into a hug. "Son, you came."
"I only got your text a few minutes ago. What happened? Is Agent P okay?" Monty asked.
"It's awful." Monogram said. "They don't know if he'll make it."
Monty sucked in his breath. "Oh no. …I'll go ask the woman at the front if she knows what's going on now."
Carl wished he had suggested it first. Monogram beamed at Monty.
"Thanks… son."
"It'll be all right." Carl supplied.
"Be quiet, Carl. Can't you see I'm upset?"
...
"Perry!"
Perry turned around. Terrence ran up to him. "Perry, what are you doing back here?"
Perry grinned, his problems fading away at the sight of his old friend.
"Come here." Terrence said, grabbing him in a hug.
Perry felt happiness spreading through him. It had been so long since he'd felt those feathers against his fur, so long since those strong wings had patted him on the back…
"I… we're not going through each other."
Terrence stopped. He backed up. "You're right."
"Usually we can't touch each other." Perry began to worry again. "Do… you think it means…"
Terrence studied him for a long while and shook his head. "You're not dead, Perry. You'd be completely solid-looking to me if you were. You're still transparent."
"Good." Perry said. "I mean… I'm glad we can finally hug each other. And shake hands. It's been so long."
"Too long." Terrence agreed, putting a wing on his shoulder. Perry smiled.
"Anyway." Terrence said. "What happened, Per? How'd you get down here?"
Perry sighed. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."