Американские боги
Chapter 7
WhenSalimwakes,thecoldsuncreepingintothewhiteroom,heisalone.
Also,hediscovers,hissamplecaseisgone,allthebottlesandringsandsouvenircopperflashlights,allgone,alongwithhissuitcase,hiswallet,hispassport,andhisairticketsbacktoOman.
Hefindsapairofjeans,theT-shirt,andthedust-coloredwoolensweaterdiscardedonthefloor.Beneaththemhefindsadriver’slicenseinthenameofIbrahimbinIrem,ataxipermitinthesamename,andaringofkeyswithanaddresswrittenonapieceofpaperattachedtotheminEnglish.ThephotographsonthelicenseandthepermitIDdonotlookmuchlikeSalim,butthen,theydidnotlookmuchliketheifrit.
Thetelephonerings:itisthefrontdeskcallingtopointoutthatSalimhasalreadycheckedout,andhisguestneedstoleavesoonsothattheycanservicetheroom,togetitreadyforanotheroccupant.
"Idonotgrantwishes,"saysSalim,tastingthewaythewordsshapethemselvesinhismouth.
Hefeelsstrangelylight-headedashedresses.
NewYorkisverysimple:theavenuesrunnorthtosouth,thestreetsrunwesttoeast.Howhardcanitbe?heaskshimself.
Hetossesthecarkeysintotheairandcatchesthem.Thenheputsontheblackplasticsunglasseshefoundinthepockets,andleavesthehotelroomtogoandlookforhiscab.
