‘You mean you sleep here?’ ‘Sometimes,’ I admitted. ‘Not always. Usually just when I’m too drunk to hitch-hike home.’ ‘I guess you don...��t live in town then. Where do you usually stay?’ I gestured vaguely toward the north. ‘Up near Chewey. On the Illinois river.’ ‘Oh, my! I bet that’s nice!’ ‘Most white people wouldn’t think so. But then I’m not white so it works for me.’ ‘Oh. Well, I’d really like to see how, uh, real Indians live around here…’ ‘There’s a nice Indian family that runs the motel. That evening she gave her parents the excuse that she was heading to her room to study and went there right after the dinner dishes were done. Instead of her normal sleeping attire of a t-shirt and sweatpants she donned one of her silkiest nighties and slid between the covers. She removed the creme colored envelope from her purse and gently pulled out the pages. She re-read the first page and then gently laid it aside and started on the second one. I saw the pictures that you posted on your. More

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