It was summer in Sante Fe, New Mexico. The sun’s heat was powerful; so powerful that not even the wind dared to disturb it. My brother was too little to be any fun, so I played alone. Sporting blond pigtails with pink bows, I was the princess of the jungle gym. This afternoon though something drew me away from the metal bars to the corner of the yard where the fence was. It was tall, too tall to see over, and made of wood slates, one right after the other with no space between. It had been weathered grey, and the wood was rough even on my calloused hands, tough from climbing and playing outside. The boards were spotted with knot holes, and it was to one of these that I gravitated towards. My small hands pressed against the hot wood, supporting my body as my little bare toes pushed me up the extra few inches I needed. Placing my eye up to the knothole, I peered through into my neighbor’s yard.