I moved on legs that shook and buckled. I buzzed with adrenalin. I moved to wear I thought I had heard the whistle. The summer buzz of insects had quieted, I wondered if it would ever come back. The natural world had changed, and so had my expectations. There was nothing here, nobody. I was in the back yard of a suburban split level, an above ground pool blocking my view of the other side of the yard. At my feet was a chrome and white plastic pool ladder, and as I moved past it and around the yard, my hope evaporated as fear for the fate of the whistle blower grew. The sound of a sliding glass door opening sent me spinning, my shovel swinging at nothing. A girl who couldn’t have been more than 15 stood in the door with a shotgun pointed at me. “Say ‘Invader Zim’ or I’ll kill you”