Michael was the son of one of the few black neighbors who lived two houses down. I knew he had been at college and figured that he was home for the su...mer. He had always been a nice kid, doing odd jobs around the neighborhood, a bit shy and quiet, and a little pudgy. However, as he entered the pool I could tell that he had changed some while away. "Hi Ms. Wanda" he said when he saw me, "this is my friend Malcolm." "Hi guys, home from college?" I asked. They came over and put their towels on. Mr. Anderson even cleaned the basement himself. My father must have spent some time down there though because he not only knew about the tunnel but knew that it turned sharply at the old well. He also obviously knew about the books in the basement."I have no idea where he put the dirt he took out of the tunnel or where he got the stuff he used to brace the tunnel roof. My father was a small man but he was strong for his size. Still, it must have been backbreaking work for him to dig that tunnel. More

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