I jogged into the gray, into the dull thick green of summer in Central Park. The August humidity mounted quickly, and the mist along the clearings in ...he park seemed more like thin steam. When my breathing faltered I slowed to a walk until it returned, then I took up the jog again. I stayed on the main roads, the reservoir and other areas seeming too deserted. Then I ran all the way back to Martha's, and I felt it was still not good enough. The anxious pressure in my chest was still. My mother, in her kindness, had arranged it so that Tommy could come to my birthday party and stay the night. I played it cool, as I was developing that ‘cool all the time’ highschool guy mentality. But in reality, I was ecstatic. Tommy was coming and that meant it was time to get into, and out of, some trouble. All in good fun. And it was good fun. Tommy and I possessed the party and bent it to our will. Soon we had droves of teenagers roving the streets and causing all sorts of. More

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