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Show 28 train whistle or diesel motor. Those 10:00 PM to 5:00 AM hours had an almost dangerous, potentially magical feel for me, and when I moved out of that house later and tried to reflect on those years I could only remember the summer at night. Still, I got lonely in that routine. I was shaking like a shoplifter by the time I made it to the van, but everyone else was impatient and bored by the wait. But nobody complained, for once, probably because we hadn't done this in a while. I was the second to last stop before the waterfall. Next we drove to the Walkers gas station up the street to pick up drinks. Since they didn't brew coffee that late, and I wanted to be sure to stay alert, I filled a large cup with cappuccino from one of those press-button machines that tell you to release the button when the cup is 2/3 full, a warning I always took for too conservative, and later tried to stop the warm powdery water with a napkin before it spilled over the side onto my hand. Everyone else bought Icees because Brenda, who usually worked that shift, gave them to us for free because she grew up with Brad's older sister and babysat him a long time ago. She was gone this time, but everyone except me bought an Icee out of habit, and because they "mixed well." After Walkers, we drove up 800 North, turned left on Locust Avenue, right on Anderson drive and followed that as it devolved from pavement to gravel and wound behind the fenced off water tower to the base of the mountain. From there we had the option of waking left-through Kiwanis Park and up to the large, |