99 Stories of God

82. Polyurethane

She liked traveling through the American Southwest and staying in the rooms of old hotels in forgotten towns. The questionable cleanliness of the rooms did not bother her, nor did the indifferent food served at erratic times in the local cafés. She went to markets and churches, bought trinkets and the occasional rug. She never had any real experiences, but she was content. This was how she spent her monthlong vacation year after year. She was a teacher of history and mathematics, though not a particularly dedicated one. She moved them along, the little ones.

One evening, in a particularly garish room of awkward dimension, jammed with oak furniture, with prints of long-ago parades covering the walls, after preparing a drinking a cup of tea — she always brought the supplies for tea time with her, including a heating coil — she realized she had no idea who she was or why the end of a day would find her in this close room. She felt anxious but did not give in to the temptation of making herself a stronger cup. Instead she decided to remove the few articles of clothing she had placed in the bureau drawer and return them to her valise. This gave her the feeling she would soon be on her way again.

Removing the cargo pants with just the touch of spandex to add stretch and the linen shirt with hidden button-front placket — garments as yet unworn, which added to the sense of unfamiliarity and unease — she noticed writing in the bottom of the drawer. Under the sensible beam of the flashlight she always carried with her, she read:

On the displacement and destruction of the American Indian, George Catlin wrote in 1837:

For the American citizens who live, everywhere proud of their growing wealth and their luxuries, over the bones of these poor fellows, there is a lingering terror for reflecting minds: Our mortal bodies must soon take their humble places with their red brethren, under the same glebe: to appear and stand at last, with guilt’s shivering conviction, amid the myriad ranks of accusing spirits, that are to rise in their own fields, at the final day of resurrection!

She immediately vowed to no longer frequent public accommodations. She would purchase a mobile home and continue her travels unharried by the sentiments of others. Still, she had no idea who this person who would continue was now.