Lights flickering, the clanking of metal from the corrugated gate grinding downward behind the group coincides with a low hissing sound from the roof ...vent appearing to be leaking smoldering fumes. Another quick flicker or two, then pitch darkness, the hissing sound above them louder, the nervous giggles, squeals suddenly becoming rasping coughs, nervous grunt, unintelligible diatribe followed by silence. The labored sound of the slow starting of the truck’s engine as its starter cranks,. He won awards for science projects and had ribbons for perfect marks on tests strewn about his room. He had a habit of pushing his glasses up on his nose when he talked, probably trying to make himself look more grown up. Steven was four (‘Four and a half, daddy!’). He was the baby, but I had worked on bringing his up so that he wasn’t spoiled. He chipped in where he could, helping pick things up from the floor that the rest of us didn’t see. At least he wasn’t feeding them to the dog, Flash.. ‘Because you have a sl**p disorder? What time is it anyway?’ ‘Three fifty-seven a.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time,’ I replied after checking my watch. ‘You’re nuts. Where are you?’ ‘Across the street.’ ‘From where,’ she asked. ‘From the Hopwell Residence for Unwed Women,’ I answered. ‘You are?’ then after a couple of seconds silence she said, ‘Where? I don’t see you?’ ‘The phone box…where are you?’ ‘Look to your right…second floor,’ she instructed. I looked up and quickly spotted her standing. To my horror, my dad insisted I perform flick-flacks and tumbles for them. From then on, all three of his sons, particularly Gerald, referred to me as ‘The Ballerina.’ Fortunately, Harold and Arthur, Monty’s other sons were not as annoying as Gerald was. Gerald was two years older than I was, and all three siblings had been born a year apart, with Arthur, the youngest, my age.During future visits and for the next four years, Gerald made sure that at one or another point when we were alone, he.