Her hands were leathery enough with blisters so she didn't mind how hot the steering wheel was. All day in the Nevada no-shade that car had waited, but her hands could take this hot wheel. Like having your own built-in gloves, she thought. How good she was. And it was nice to be in a car instead of nowhere. No car, then you're really nowhere. But a car is somewhere to be.
She banged the back if her head against the headrest over and over. It was rubbery like the booth at the diner, or a really nice McDonald's.
The headrests on which she rested her head hadn't always felt rubbery. She had felt something hard there before a long time ago in another car, something with sharp edges. Like a big plastic disposable knife for your head.
Anyway, you couldn't hurt yourself too bad this way, not if you were just sitting in the car and the car was just sitting in the sun. It was warm and everything, but it didn't burn her. She was all leather now.
They didn't have those nice rubbery booths at McDonald's anymore. They were still the same shiny bright red, but now they were just hard, so you didn't want to sleep in there too long, and also it was probably easier to clean up. If somebody was a real painintheass and made a real mess, they could just hose it all away. You, too, Goldie. Move your ass out of here and stop coming back. You're not supposed to be here. We take showers here in America.
Oh, yeah? You don't belong here, either, lady! No one belongs here. You think they want us here? God don't make it rain. He wants us to burn out here. Because we're not supposed to be here. Shouldn't come out here where it's so hot and there's less than nothing. He's saying its your own fault if you die out here. He's saying I told you so.
Dang! Why didn't I listen?