Youth: a tale of the ’40s told by an 11-year-old, signifying nothing . . .

Part Two: Caught, Captured, and Summarily Dealt With . . .

From the pages of BLITHE SPIRIT, May 8, 1996, Two Cents and worth it.

We left our heroes on the third-floor landing, balancing a garbage can
on Mr. McLaughlin’s railing. A dog started barking in the next yard. . . .
We froze again. Then Mel gestured, “Let’s go.” He tied twine to the
can, now balanced on the rail and made sure it was good and tight, giving it a
pull while I held the can steady. Then he threw the ball of twine over the
railing to the pavement below, where it landed with the slightest pop. Then
we started down the stairs, quickly as we could, quietly, one flight then an-
We were already grinning with the sheer fun of it as we headed to the
first landing where the new people lived. Mel even jumped the last few
stairs, landing with a thump. Then the screen door flew open, and out jumped
the biggest guy I’d ever seen. . . .

For the rest, go here . . .