Dad built the wooden fence around our yard to keep my brother and I from running out into the street. We were rambunctious toddlers and our yard led directly into a narrow alley downtown, so an inattentive moment could be disastrous for us.
I remember him digging deep holes and pounding the posts into the ground. Then he nailed two rails across the posts.
The screams of the belligerent teenager next door were not considered when constructing the fence. Mom and Dad figured her parents were dealing with a rebellious teen. Even when her little sister would cry and yell and kick when her father would pick her up from playing with me to take her to their cabin, Mom would try to soothe her. "You can come back to play after your trip. You can start where you left off." She didn't realize that the little girl would never be able to start over again.
When Dad read in the newspaper that the neighbour was being investigated for sexual abuse, he and Mom decided to put the house up for sale. The fence had kept us safe from running out into the street, but now seemed too weak to protect us from others getting in.
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