It was muggy as I passed through the doors of the car rental agency inside the airport. I immediately began to feel lines of sweat cascading down my back. I had forgotten how oppressive the heat was here compared to the more arid climate in Dallas. The whole county was saturated with the moisture coming off of Lake Waco baking in the high late-morning sun. The clerk escorting me, a tall lanky young man with shaggy brown hair, looked like he just graduated high school. He didn’t seem to take notice of how hard it was to breathe in this soup. He walked me to the small red coupe that had just pulled in under the covered entry and loaded my suitcase in the trunk for me before handing me the keys.
“I hope you enjoy your stay here, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” It’s “ma’am” now is it? I slipped him a
