The Party Pile Up  I'm having a party at home in Oak Valley. A carload of drunk kids leave. There is a struggle, like a gang battle, between these kids and another group. Across the street in Thompson's old house is where the battle occurred. One of the groups took a plastic garbage can and put a cannon ball sized smoke bomb in it. The can was then moved from the sidewalk/steps of the house to the middle of the southbound lane of Home Avenue, by one of the gangs. Cars swerve to avoid it, and go off the road. Several cars crash. Soon there is a long pile-up of cars. I'm outside in the front yard. I yell for the people inside to call the police, and I run out to the cars. I see if people are okay. Several people are shaken up. I tell them not to move: the police are on their way. A crowd has gathered to see the half-block long pileup. When the police officers arrive I walk up to talk to them first, since I was an eyewitness. I tell them what happened, and about the gangs fighting. I surreptitiously put the blame on one of the gangs, the gang which wasn't at my house, to exonerate myself from guilt. The police seem to think that searching for the gang is futile. Eventually there may be a reward, and a search for them. I see my aunt Annette Colby in the crowd.