Chapter Nineteen
The Green Rush
At five in the morning, I wake briefly. Iridescent porcelain covers the world. Fourteen stories below, a team of men shovel the walkways around the bank tower next to the hotel. Later, I lay in bed with the quiet and darkness and warmth, then go down and eat a huge breakfast near the big plate windows. Two inches of snow fell in San Antonio on January 11, 1985, and shut the city down for two days. We don’t have any snow plows and Houston was using theirs, so they wouldn’t let us borrow. The mayor came on TV and told everyone to just stay home. And we did.
I go back to the room and dress for the day ahead: b*a and underwear. Thermal stockings that stretch up to my stomach and a camisole down to my panty line. My thickest socks. Flannel lined khaki pants an
