By Maik Strosahl
I was four when we moved into the house my parents still live in, and very shy. As I explored the new backyard, never straying far from the sidewalk, I noticed a tall man walking on the other side of the grape vine, from the neighbor’s garage up to that green house.
“What do you know, Flanagan*?” he asked as he noticed me watching him. That was enough to get me running back inside.