for a moment , a flood of memories rides up , surging on the air and the smell of honeysuckle : hana and i squeezing lemon juice on our hair to lighten it , stealing sodas from the cooler in uncle william 's store and taking them down to back cove ; clam-pot dinners on the old wooden porch when it was too hot to eat inside ; following gracie 's tricycle down the street , wobbling on my bike , trying not to pass her .