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forever.
    He played with the idea of registering under a pseudonym—perhaps S. Isyphus, or Dr. F. Austus. But in the end he rented the Vice-Regal Suite under his own name. The woman who had shown him to his suite had stood in the middle of the living room, hesitating. She studied Lewis. She nodded her head once she was sure that she recognized him.
    “Are you?” she asked, her eyes sparkling.
    Lewis did not immediately answer. Raising his eyebrows in an unintentionally comic manner, he reached into the inside pocket of his suit. The hotel employee could not help but notice the thickness of the envelope. Lewis held up a hundred-dollar bill. Pausing, he pulled out a second.
    “Not anymore,” Lewis said. He held up both bills. The employee nodded. When she’d taken the money, Lewis read the name tag pinned above her heart. “Beth, I’ll need a haircut, too.”
    “I’ll make you an appointment.”
    “Can you send him up?”
    “Now?”
    “Yes.”
    “Like, right now?”
    “Well, as soon as possible.”
    “It’ll still be a couple of hours.”
    “Okay, then.”
    “Is there anything else?”
    “I’ll let you know if there is,” Lewis said, and he closed the door of the Vice-Regal Suite. He went into the bathroom. He filled the bathtub but didn’t get in. He pushed down the plug in the sink and filled it too. He sat on the edge of the bathtub, looking from the sink to the tub, then the tub to the sink. But ninety minutes later, when he heard a knock on the suite’s door, the miniature version of his wife had still not appeared. Pulling the drain in both the sink and the tub, Lewis went to answer the door.
    Lewis did not open his eyes until the barber took the towel from his shoulders. Tiny pieces of hair floated through the air. Lewis focused on these, consciously avoiding his reflection in the mirror directly in front of him. When the barber had finished sweeping up, Lewis removed the envelope from his inside pocket and took out two bills. He held these out to the barber.
    “This is too much.”
    “It isn’t. You’ve really helped me here,” Lewis said. He made eye contact with the barber. This was the first time Lewis had done this. It was the first time he’d made eye contact with anyone since leaving the limousine. The barber nodded and took the bills. Lewis walked the barber to the door of the Vice-Regal Suite and held itopen for him. When he was gone, Lewis locked the door and slid the chain across. Then he returned to the bathroom. He stood in front of the full-length mirror. He took a very deep breath. He looked up, and looking back at him was someone trustworthy. Someone who was well adjusted. Someone who hadn’t just failed to attend his wife’s funeral.

6
Lewis finds God
    Lewis used his teeth to sever the thin plastic string. He put the tags in the garbage can beside the full-length mirror and pulled on the freshly purchased jeans, which were stiff and difficult to button. Pushing with the end of his thumb, he took the toothbrush from its packaging. Remaining shirtless, Lewis began brushing his teeth and was suddenly filled with a sense of comfort, familiarity and home—all three of these sensations caused by a toothbrush.
    An hour after his haircut, Lewis had left his hotel room and gone to the Bay, where he’d purchased a complete new wardrobe of clothes in a conservative style, all vastly different from what he typically wore. He’d also bought a razor, deodorant, toothpaste and a toothbrush. It had been quite some time since he’d purchased his own toothbrush, as Lisa had always bought his for him, and unknowingly he had selected one with soft bristles. Lisa had always bought the kind with firm bristles, which was why the toothbrush in his mouth felt broken in and familiar even though it had never been used it before.
    Lewis carefully set the brush on the side of the sink. He spit. He walked out of the bathroom and stood over the phone on the bedside table. Picking up the receiver, he