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Show 113 "Ain't this a night," said Nick, "to remember." In November it got cold. Steven puts his hands up to the orange glow and thinks of Ifach-covered with clouds, troubled with unseasonable rains, and now, in December, topped with snow. "Por primera vez," Enrique had said, continues to say, "I tell you it is the first time ever for weather like this." "Shit," says Nick, Nick has said a hundred times since the skies first turned foul, "it's bound to get warmer." But it didn't. It just got colder. The three of them had laughed, at first, to find themselves sitting down to eat in their heaviest clothes-Sara in her ridiculously too-large sweater, Nick in his beat-up Army jacket, and Steven in his blue nylon windbreaker which hardly helped at all. After they had stopped laughing, after a week, Sara had said, "Maybe we should buy one of those little gas space heaters." Steven agreed. "Candy-asses," said Nick," both of you." "But it's freezing in here," she said. "We can see our breath." "Just a little chilly, just a little chilly. No space heater and that's final, we got better things to spend our money on." In the afternoons Nick was gone; cooking up a deal, he said, |