I became daring in the dark. My grip froze. I gulped the moist night air and licked my lips.

Dont panic. Keep your feet up.It bucks and dips, pitches and plunges while cold water slams you every few seconds.

Should I tell my mother what I decided to do?A 5-year-old, less than one meter tall, I slipped through the turnstile without being noticed.

We were trying out young adulthood, but there were rules.What I recall is moonlight through a picture window until we heard his door open, Marshalls deep, slow Tennessee twang.

I had a layover in Elmira, New Yorksix hours long.Warblers, whistlers, and trillers sang. Joe and Maybe Dave knew when not to talk, too, when beauty itself was the conversation.

I began to pass little crosses made of sticks and string.It was fully dark outside now, a blackness unrelieved by any shaft of human-created light.

We had our audience!Fierce when necessary, and sometimes maybe just a little bit witchy

Quick! Let's get the oars!.Traveling fast, the tankers bow tossed large white-capped waves.

What was I doing here? Id been a fool to come.Too much of the past haunted the rooms.

"The Bottle Rocket War"by Richard L. Davis, Elk Grove, CA firecrackers on a stick, launched from tequila bottles!We had no Francis Scott Key to record our glory and legacy.