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ONEJUNE 12The dusty RV wailed along the flat interstate, its tires whining on the hot pavement. Behind the wheel was a gaunt, reed-thin driver, his thinning black hair whipping in the furnace of hot air that streamed through the open window. He sucked on a bottle of water to keep from dozing, arcs of sweat staining his white shirt. It had been unmercifully hot since they left Omaha, heading south and then due west on Interstate 80, with towns and small citiesKearney, Cozad, Gothenburg blurring past them as they paralleled the river. He drove straight into the sun, into the hot June afternoon, whizzing past the Nebraska farms and fields, uncluttered, lonely, and dull in their sameness.As was his wont, he bitched to himself as he drove.What's the use havin' air-conditionin'if he don't let me turn it on?A few miles later. Shaking his head.Never laiew nobody loved the heat like this one. Must be a hunerd-ten out there, he wants the damn window open.Another couple of miles.Nobody t'talk to. Won't let me play the radio when he's sleepin'. One of these days I'm gonna just doze off Nodding to himself. bug off the road, we'll both end up wrapped in this RV in the middle of godforsakennowhere Tapping the flat of his hand on the steering wheel. damn buzzards eatin'our eyes out.Brother T was stretched out on a fiiton spread across two seats. He was uncomfortable sleeping in the main suite, as he called it, while the RV was on the highway, preferring instead3