我又一次陷于兩頭都?jí)虿簧系闹虚g境遇，作為六個(gè)孩子中的老四，很多事情對(duì)我來(lái)說(shuō)不是因?yàn)槟挲g太小，就是太大而不合適。那天夜里就是這樣。我的兩個(gè)小兄弟在屋里睡覺(jué)，我的另外三個(gè)長(zhǎng)兄和姐姐在拐角與小伙伴們玩，而我甚至不被允許獨(dú)自過(guò)馬路。
　　“跑到街對(duì)面的加油站去給你自己買瓶可樂(lè)怎么樣？”祖父突然對(duì)我說(shuō)，我簡(jiǎn)直不敢相信自己的耳朵。我們一起看了看大街的前后左右。他放開我的手，我跑了起來(lái)。我從沒(méi)有跑得這么快過(guò)。街道似乎很寬，我懷疑自己是否能跑到對(duì)面。
　　冰涼的棕色泡沫濺在我的手上。我緊緊地抱著可樂(lè)瓶，生怕他讓我把可樂(lè)倒在杯子里，毀掉我的夢(mèng)想。我咕嚕嚕長(zhǎng)長(zhǎng)地吞下一口冰涼的可樂(lè)，冒汗的身體頓覺(jué)清爽無(wú)比。我認(rèn)為自己再也沒(méi)有過(guò)當(dāng)時(shí)那樣的自豪。
　　I know now that the man who sat with me on the old wooden stairs that hot summer night over thirty-five years ago was not a tall man. But to a five-year-old, he was a giant. We sat side by side, watching the sun go down behind the old Texaco service station across the busy street. A street that I was never allowed to cross unless accompanied by an adult, or at the very least, an older sibling.
　　Cherry-scented smoke from Grampy’s pipe kept the hungry mosquitoes at bay while gray, wispy swirls danced around our heads. Now and again, he blew a smoke ring and laughed as I tried to target the hole with my finger. I, clad in a cool summer nightie, and Grampy, his sleeveless T-shirt, sat watching the traffic. We counted cars and tried to guess the color of the next one to turn the corner.
　　 Once again, I was caught in the middle of circumstances. The fourth born of six children, it was not uncommon that I was either too young or too old for something. This night I was both. While my two baby brothers slept inside the house, my three older siblings played with friends around the corner, where I was not allowed to go. I stayed with Grampy, and that was okay with me. I was where I wanted to be. My grandfather was baby-sitting while my mother, father and grandmother went out.
　　Thirsty?" Grampy asked, never removing the pipe from his mouth.
　　" Yes," was my reply." How would you like to run over to the gas station there and get yourself a bottle of coke?"
　　I couldn’t believe my ears. Had I heard right? Was he talking to me? On my family’s modest income, coke was not a part of our budget or diet. A few tantalizing sips was all I had ever had, and certainly never my own bottle.
　　"Okay," I replied shyly, already wondering how I would get across the street. Surely Grampy was going to come with me.
　　Grampy stretched his long leg out straight and reached his huge hand deep into the pocket. I could hear the familiar jangling of the loose change he always carried. Opening his fist, he exposed a mound of silver coins. There must have been a million dollars there. He instructed me to pick out a dime. After he deposited the rest of the change back into his pocket, he stood up.
　　"Okay," he said, helping me down the stairs and to the curb, " I’m going to stay here and keep an ear out for the babies. I’ll tell you when it’s safe to cross. You go over to the coke machine, get your coke and come back out. Wait for me to tell you when it’s safe to cross back."
　　My heart pounded. I clutched my dime tightly in my sweaty palm. Excitement took my breath away.
　　Grampy held my hand tightly. Together we looked up the street and down, and back up again. He stepped off the curb and told me it was safe to cross. He let go of my hand and I ran. I ran faster than I had ever run before. The street seemed wide. I wondered if I would make it to the other side. Reaching the other side, I turned to find Grampy. There he was, standing exactly where I had left him, smiling proudly. I waved.
　　"Go on, hurry up," he yelled.
　　My heart pounded wildly as I walked inside the dark garage.I had been inside the garage before with my father. My surroundings were familiar. I heard the Coca-Cola machine motor humming even before I saw it. I walked directly to the big old red-and-white dispenser. I knew where to insert my dime. I had seen it done before and had fantasized about this moment many times.
　　The big old monster greedily accepted my dime, and I heard the bottles shift. On tiptoes I reached up and opened the heavy door. There they were: one neat row of thick green bottles, necks staring directly at me, and ice cold from the refrigeration. I held the door open with my shoulder and grabbed one. With a quick yank, I pulled it free from its bondage. Another one immediately took its place. The bottle was cold in my sweaty hands. I will never forget the feeling of the cool glass on my skin. With two hands, I positioned the bottleneck under the heavy brass opener that was bolted to the wall. The cap dropped into an old wooden box, and I reached in to retrieve it. I was cold and bent in the middle, but I knew I needed to have this souvenir. Coke in hand, I proudly marched back out into the early evening dusk. Grampy was waiting patiently. He smiled.
　　"Stop right there," he yelled. One or two cars sped by me, and once again, Grampy stepped off the curb."Come on, now," he said, "Run." I did. Cool brown foam sprayed my hands."Don’t ever do that alone," he warned. I held the coke bottle tightly, fearful he would make me pour it into a cup, ruining this dream come true. He didn’t. One long swallow of the cold beverage cooled my sweating body. I don’t think I ever felt so proud