Sleeping with Strangers
"So, do you want to sleep with us?" Doris Ann asked.
"I have to know some things first," I said. "Do you smoke?"
"Not in the room," she said.
"You should know that I snore."
"So do we," Doris said.
That's how I wound up sharing a room with a passel of librarians at the American Library Association convention this weekend in New Orleans.
I've been lucky with my hotel roommates. Most are considerate, don't hog the closet space or make noise if they come in after late-night celebrations.
Hospital roommates are another story. I get stuck with deeply devout women. And that brings out the devil in me.
A while back, I was in the hospital after a stroke (I'm fully recovered, thank you). My roommate was an 80-year-old woman addicted to televangelists' sermons at full volume. I'll call her Edna, because that's not her name.
I thought the white-haired Bible-pounders were whitened sepulchers, but Edna watched their rants with rapture.
At dinner, she came down off Cloud 9 and asked me, "Which evangelist is your favorite?"
"Uh – the dead one," I said. I figured that was a safe answer. One of them was always being called home. Not soon enough, thought, after watching them for 12 hours.
"Yes," Edna said, sadly. "His death was a great loss."
Dinner was punishment for my sins. But worse was in store – Edna decided to evangelize me.
"Jesus gave you that stroke," she said, "and you won't recover until you accept that."
It wasn't right. I had a good husband, a good career, a condo on the water and a black Jaguar. Jesus didn't get any credit for those. He got the rap for the stroke. I kept silent out of respect for Edna's age.
Edna persisted. "Are you married?" she asked.
"Yes," I said. "Don and I have been married 37 years."
"Do you have children?" she asked.
"No," I said, cheerfully.
"It's not a real marriage unless you have children," Edna said.
"It's a little too late for kids now," I said.
"No, it's not," Edna said. "God gave Sarah a child at age 80."
Respect for Edna's age went out the window. "That's proof God is a man," I said. "No woman would give another woman a baby at age 80."
At least Edna was quiet for the rest of my stay.
Another adventure with a hospital roommate started out well. I shared a room with a large woman 
who was sleeping of the just when I was admitted early in the morning. While the doctors prepared me for a complete walletectomy, I fell asleep, too.
At 1:30 that afternoon, I was awakened by a woman shouting, "Father God, heal our Sister in Jesus' name. Heal her legs so she may walk again."
"Yes, sweet Jesus!" Sister shouted.
"Heal her heart," screamed the woman preacher. "Heal her stomach! Heal her kidneys!"
At each request for healing, my neighbor cried again in a loud voice, "Yes, sweet Jesus."
This time, I prayed, too.
I prayed that the preacher woman would not go to any organs lower then Sister's kidneys.
My prayers were answered.
Saturday, June 25, is Mystery Day at the American Library Association conference
in New Orleans. At 10 AM I'm on the "Traditional Mysteries: Who Are the New Jane Marples?" panel with Rhys Bowen, TLC's Nancy Martin, Rosemary Harris and Jane Cleland as moderator.
At 3 PM "Laugh or I'll Kill You" is the topic for Rhys, Rosemary, Nancy M., Cathy Pickens with moderator Amy Alessio.
From 1 PM to 2 PM I'll be signing copies of my books at the Penguin Group Booth 1422.
