LIFE IN A NORMAL TOWN

[Wichita Falls, Texas] Summer in North Central Texas, and the highway's a two-lane black typewriter ribbon bisecting long flat parched fields of dry grass and dust, and both go so far into infinity that the sky curves down, domelike, to greet them at the horizon. It is the 13th straight day of 100-plus temperatures.Distances shimmer. This is the heat from which mirages appear. So when you're perched at a stoplight on the outskirts of Wichita Falls--the first town of size in two hours--you may be inclined to ignore the sheik-like figure trundling toward you pushing a grocery cart. But he doesn't disappear. Closer--a bare-chested man, deeply tanned, yellow goggles, a towel thrown over his head. Closer still--the grocery cart is festooned with hubcaps, filled with recyclables and sports a jaunty orange plastic jack-o'-lantern. Stoic in the searing heat, the man passes, steering his cart towards the Taylor Foundry Recycling Center ("Since 1925"). Only then do you see the battered license plate dangling off the front: Oklahoma.