The four boys, two with baseball caps on backward, and a dog, continued up the side of the street until the pavement ended, then they walked in the middle of the hard packed dirt road.

They rough-housed, talked about Little League, and girls, but didn’t speak of the old school house until it loomed into sight.

A half a block away they stopped and stared. It squatted on the crest of a hill like Dracula’s castle. Through the dead cottonwood trees they could see the shake roof on the two story building with many shingles missing. The old red bricks scarred with time, and most of the windows broken

Bobby asked, “Any of you guys ever been in that place?”
As a group they answered in the negative.
“Who broke out the windows?” David asked.
No one knew.

Their approached slowed, but their eyes never left the imposing structure. Only Shep continued on, smelling everything he passed.

They circled around to where the license number was written in the dirt. Billy wrote the number down on some paper.