I was taking an exam, sort of high-schoolish. Teacher was going over the questions first and everyone had an opportunity to look up answers in their books, but I couldn't find the right books and anyplace to sit; no paper, etc. Something to do with Alaska, also, and how you would get back to the U.S. through Canada, no roads N-S, only a long river that sparkled on the map, a tiny Eskimo propelled canoe through it. Everyone else was through with the exam and left; at last I had a seat, but they were painting the room and moving everything around and there was a lot of noise, so I went outside, hoping that my former geology lab instructor would follow me. He didn't; I went inside and found that this Negro painter had painted my pocketbook dark brown like the walls; I was sure he had done it on purpose (out of stupidity rather than any particular malice) and told him to take all the paint off with paint remover.