Perched on top of a six-foot grape stake fence, in the thick of a shrub, leaning against the side of the neighbor’s house I could see better than I could be seen. I was, for the most part, invisible. If someone spotted me, I could hop down the opposite side and make my play. You see, to an eight-year-old boy, kick-the-can was serious business in my neighborhood. Believe me, the entire neighborhood was our playground. We didn’t r...
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