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Little Jimmy was proud of his Huffy. It had been his father’s bike when he was a kid. His dad fixed it up and repainted it, and Jimmy was proud of that. It was fire red with bright cobalt blue stripes down the body. Some of the other neighborhood kids thought it looked stupid, but Jimmy would have none of it. He showed them how inferior their bikes were compared to his, the weakness in the construction, and how much heavier and better built his was. And that would shut them up. That and his ability to jump a ramp farther than anybody else in the neighborhood.
Old Mrs. Neebody’s house had always appealed to him. Not because he cared anything about the well-kept yard or the dormer windows. Instead, he liked the little knee wall that stretched down the left side of the driveway, separati
