when Digger got back to his room. He bumped quietly against a wall. He couldn’t remember that wall being there. He would have sworn that side of the room opened onto a beautiful oriental garden. "Excuse me," he told the wall. "So there you are, you son of a bitch," Koko said. "Shhhhh, you’ll wake me up," he said. "Where the hell have you been?" "Looking for you." "Did you try here?" Koko asked. "This was my last hope." Koko turned on the lamp and the light flooded the dark room, stabbing Digger in the eyeballs. When he could see, Koko was pulling the sheet up to her neck. They stared at each other. "So it’s you," he said. "I was wondering who was in our room." "You’re whacked. What the hell time is it, anyway?" "I think it’s four o’clock." "You’re a son of a bitch." "You’re opinionated, obnoxious, and much too short," Digger said. "Four o’clock," she intoned. "Time for beddy-bye," Digger said. He struggled out of his clothes which he dumped onto a chair. When he got down to his shorts, he peeled away the surgical tape that held the microphone wire to his side and unhooked the thin belt that held the tape recorder around his waist.
