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plastic turtle graced the yard next to the cracked and weathered porch. 
    I looked back at the house, and it was as dark in the back as it was in the front.  The house was simple but nice, and the trees around the lot meant that this place must have been nice and cool in the summer.
    The back yard was fenced in, and I was grateful for the chance to get close to the creepy house without being observed.  I didn’t have any real reason to be doing what I was, and if I thought about it long enough, I might come up with an explanation which might have raised an excuse even for me.
    At the edge of the yard, I looked at the fence for a moment.  It was eight feet tall, and that was three feet higher than I was currently occupying.  Hmm.
    A quick glance around the yard didn’t give me any inspiration, so I was about to leave when I noticed the swing set was just a foot taller than the fence.  Worked for me.  I climbed the play area quickly, and found myself in a small clubhouse with the roof high above me.  I tried to see what was in the house, but I couldn’t get a good angle on it.  I worked my way to the outside of the little clubhouse, and climbed slowly to the top of the awning supports.  I straddled the top beam of the clubhouse and looked out over the yard to the house beyond.
    It was as every bit as dark as the front.  A small stream worked its way through the properties in this area, and I could see it was deep enough to dam if they wanted a supply of water and fish right outside of their door.  A big bay window allowed me to peek into the interior of the house and look around.  At the worst, I could see if there was anyone living there at all that my Dad could visit.
    From my perch I could see very little.  It was dark and gloomy, and there didn’t seem to be anyone around.  The house was very neat, and there didn’t seem to be a speck of dirt anywhere.
    That last thought struck me as odd.  Shouldn’t there be some dust?  Just as I pondered that, a face appeared in the far window.  I was so startled I nearly fell off the swing set.  As it was, I managed to nock an arrow and aim a shaft at the face staring out at me.
    As quickly as It had appeared, it was gone.  I wondered for a minute while I composed myself.  I was breathing hard, trying to decide if I had seen a ghost. Just for the heck of it, I aimed the arrow at the house and let go, not caring where it hit.  I lowered the bow, and as I climbed out of the playset, I heard a bang as the arrow I shot collided with something sturdy. I had a lot to tell Trey, and the sooner the better. 
    I ran back to the street and down to the cul-de-sac.  One of the homes was occupied, and I could see people moving about as the day was coming to a close.  I worked my way over to the back of the furthest house, guessing Trey’s would be right on the line. 
    I checked the area and didn’t see any problems, so I slipped down the bank of the creek and worked my way slowly across.  I didn’t mind getting wet; I knew I was going to be home soon and would be able to dry off quickly.  Dad might wonder what took me so long, but he’d forget about it as soon as I told him the valley house was occupied.
    On the other side of the creek I had to be wary of Trey’s nets and trap lines, and it took me a good ten minutes just to clear his yard.  Crossing the road, I went through the front gate of my own property and stopped cold.  In the middle of the yard sticking out of the ground was my arrow—the one I had shot at the valley house.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was panicky, because I didn’t want my dad to find out, and I really didn’t want my mom to find out.
    I raced to the garage and put away my gear, dripping water all over the floor.  Judy, dad’s mare, looked at me with big brown reproachful eyes as I stumbled and dropped things all over the place.  I threw an extra handful of grass in her bin to keep her quiet, and then I went back out to the