Atchison is still on the map, on a bend of the Missouri River where Kansas looks across at Missouri. The rest is not on any street. A hamburger in a brown paper sack and a frosty mug of root beer, warm cashews from Woolworth's, six bottle caps and a dime for the Saturday picture, sheets brought in off the line, and the smell of the grain coming in on the wind. Thirty-five chapters about the Atchison you grew up in: Commercial Street and the Mall, the drive-ins on Skyway, the schools, the parks and the lakes, the theaters and the Hilltop, the floods of 1958, and the bridge that brought you home. The names are real and the streets are real. For anybody who grew up in Atchison, or left and never quite finished thinking about it.