Part Nineteen
A COMPLAINT FROM INDIA

Mother Teresa’s accented voice could be heard over most of the storeroom, saying she wanted to be with her people instead of all these Heathen gods.
“Shame on you for talking that way,” said Barbara as she reached the Indian section. “Haven’t you learned compassion after all your years as a nun? And if you’re talking about the Christian section, they’re overcrowded — or chock-a-block as you say in India.”
Krishna stopped playing his flute and looked at Barbara. “Don’t listen to her. Mother T’s only a holy person. I’m a god, and I demand you throw out that ugly Pakistani Bull on top of the pillar. It’s low-caste. Untouchable, even. Out with it!”
He was the god of love and compassion; Barbara sometimes wondered why she bothered. She looked at him severely. “The Sacred Bull is from the 5000-year-old Indus Valley Civilization. Please show more respect.”
“Call that a civilization. It didn’t even have a writing system,” sneered Saraswati, Goddess of Wisdom.
“It did. Sort of. It just hasn’t been deciphered yet.” But Barbara realized she was being drawn away from her subject, Gratitude, as it so often was. “And you each get a turn to be on top of the pillar, so —”
“I think only the more attractive gods should be allowed on the pillar,” interrupted Lakshmi, putting one of her four arms over her lovely face in a modest gesture.
Barbara ignored her and said to the others. “Look at all your space here. You should be grateful. The Medallions are stuck on the ceiling and they just performed a Gratitude Play for me.”
Several of the Hindu gods sniffed with contempt.
“What I should do is bring more Asians to join you,” said Barbara, using light threats before turning to the heavy stuff about telling them she was donating the whole damn lot to a thrift store. “You’ll be a little crowded, what with tribal gods and —”
“All right. We get it,” said Durga, the Warrior Goddess. “We’ll get up a play to show our whatever. Gratitude,” she added sarcastically.
“I still want to be with the Saints,” repeated Mother Teresa, who was known for her obstinacy after her long years of working for the sick in India.
“Okay. I’ll take you over there.” Barbara picked her up and took her over to the overcrowded Christian section. She’d have to do something about it. Mother Teresa was silent for a long moment, then—
“I want to go back to my friends in India,” she whined.