The Motel

It was built piece by piece by a proud father and a passionate mother. You could say that one might see a motel like this one in every place and perhaps you are right in your own way but when you are through, you will know that it is …….

It was situated just outside the town and in every sense it appeared more like a home than motel. It was Monday morning and the occupant in Room No: 1, Peter, was the first to wake up. He was like a flower which would follow the Sun even on a cloudy day. Come rain or winter, he will be out for a 4 mile jog everyday. His job brought him to this town and Darby and Joan always kept this room reserved for him. They knew him for over 2 decades. He smiled a lot and always had something pleasant to say to everyone. He left for work at 8.00 in the morning.

Room No: 2 had cack-handed Richard who would wake up with a jeer in his mouth. He treated everyone like a dartboard and whenever he opened his mouth, he only had poison injectors to offer. He never had any regular work and would venture out of the room once in a while. They tried to evict him once but he came back begging for pardon and promising that he would never do it again. But look from any end, he always spelled trouble. He woke up at 8.30 and the next thirty minutes were like hell itself. He went back to his room by 9.00.

Andrew was in Room No: 3. He was a charmer, an Iguana looking for a Chinoa flower. It is good if you have the talent of selling but he behaved like an egghead of the terra who owned all the wise acres in the World. Street smart but earthy, he was a guy who would head to the rumpus room every time to blow his own trumpet. He slipped in and out of the motel at his own will and wish. He was a slimy eel, dangerous if provoked. He liked to dominate and forced his way through things all the time with men. But when he saw a woman, he acted nice and enthralling as long as she laughed at his kooky jokes. The moment she doubted him, he became the hell’s angel on Harley showing his true colors.

Father Jacob stayed in Room No: 4. He had stayed back at the Church last night and was seen only in the evening. There was a rule of the motel. Every one of them had to join for supper at dinner table and Fr. Jacob was no exception. Father Jacob was a well read, highly respected member of the town. He was deeply religious and it was like he was head and foot at the service of the God. He had a resplendent aura about him. Even his silence spoke a message of its own.

At the dinner table Andrew was as usual spilling his guts out about his achievements of the day and Richard hogged everything on the table, down his throat. Both could never stand Peter or Father Jacob and always looked suspiciously at them. After the dinner they would hit their rooms but Peter would stay back and talk to Darby and Joan as they did dishes and Father Jacob always joined the conversation.

Everyone retired to their rooms and after sometime Father Jacob had showered and was ready for his last activity before he went to bed. He knelt by the table for his prayer. Dear God, he began………

I know pa and mom have christened me Peter and I am glad that you gave me such a wonderful body. I am sorry for being Richard while I drove to the Office. I never meant to insult those old couple in the Pontiac but their pace was too slow for my comfort and I lost of my cool. Please forgive me for that. I am sorry for being Andrew to the gullible customer in the shop. I know I sold her a bad product at a high price. Please forgive me for that. As a soul in this body, I long to see that Peter remains his self all the time but there are other rooms and it will take a while for Richard and Andrew to leave. Please give me strength to make Peter realize this malady.

Amen!
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