by Cynthia Sherwood – My friend Julia and I were jumping rope outside our two houses. It was a sunshiny afternoon. Robins hopping, daffodils blooming, breezes blowing, bushes sneezing… Wait a minute! Bushes don’t sneeze. Besides, I’d know that sneeze anywhere. It belonged to Ripley McDougal. Whenever we played, he spied on us, but his...
