Cause and Effect

Celebrating my older sister's 65th birthday caused the intersection of two random memories.

1) I'm about 6 years old, perched outside on the concrete stoop in front of my small town bungalow at the corner of Locust and 10th watching small town street traffic. The dismissal bell rings at the high school a block away. I scurry upstairs to the bedroom window overlooking Locust and the spot I just vacated. As teenagers parade by in bobby socks, saddle oxfords or white bucs, pleated skirts or pegged jeans, and red/white letter jackets, I whoop and holler until they look up. Then I hide behind the curtain.

2) It's evening and I'm in the same bedroom, sitting on the floor by the other window overlooking 10th St. and the DX gas station across the street. I gaze intently at the lighted DX sign until it dims, then goes dark. That's my signal to slip into bed.

Only decades later do I get that the reason I religiously watched the sign until the station closed was probably because my predetermined bedtime had more to do with my family's exhaustion than mine.