Memorial Day weekend, my twin sister Mel and I trekked around Hot Springs, Arkansas, checking out locations where we once lived. I drove and took us to a house on Bower Street near downtown, just off Central. I parked the car in front of a lot where steps led to a vacant spot where our house one sat just a year ago. I remember glancing at the old house with broken windows, with the wood rotting last summer, only now the home was gone.
The house which used to sit there, with the oddshaped rooms and the garage leading into the rising hill, sparked questions, and I wondered if we ever toppled down those steps as kids.
Soon I drove to another part of town, beyond the cemetery and across the railroad tracks on Summer Street. Again, I parked, and this time, no one lived in that house, and it was for sale. We lived there during elementary school and often played on those tracks.
