I headed down Philadelphia Avenue on the oddnumbered side The dusk had deepened the humidity thickened into a palpable prickly drizzle that lent my walk a heightened feeling of sheltered stealth I knew this side of the street from the dawn of consciousness our neighbours the Matzes and the Pritchards and Han Kieffers grocery store and the Krings and the Pottses houses where my first playmates all girls lived These houses down the street though not every inhabitant was known by name to me had each been as distinct to my childish awareness as the little troughs in the cement which led rain from their roof gutters out through the sidewalk to the street and which punctuated my progress on roller skates or on my scooter As the street sloped downward there was a justperceptible descent in the social scale as well the porches got lower to the ground and the front yards became exiguous Over the years there had been changes wooden porch banisters and pillars had been replaced by wrought iron in a vaguely Southern or Spanish style Throughout Shillington not only had houses I remembered as homes become stores but stranger still stores  Pep Conrads up on Franklin and Second Han Kieffers here  had reverted to being homes How had the residents divided up those open shelved spaces How did they live with all those ghostly aromas of merchandise