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Jacob would scream when he called back.

“How did you know it was me?” I would shout back, trying to hold back laughter.

“AAAURGH!” he screamed, before hanging up the phone.

As the sun set on that March afternoon, I left my parents’ house in Freedom and drove down the winding Conway-Wallrose Road, to where it met the Ohio River Boulevard. I looked out at the rail yards. When I turned left at the stoplight, at the gas station and the drug store, I remembered how Jacob and I piled three or four of our friends into our cars and lined up next to each other at a stop light, urging each other to see who could go faster. I hit the clutch and shifted the gears of my Jeep and remembered the fun and the fear or hitting the gas pedal, the screams and shouts and laugh...

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