Mrs. Donohoe was the original Edward Scissorhands, wielding a pruning tool like an extension of her hands. She took great pride in her lawn and flowerbeds, clipping, digging, fertilizing, and transplanting, from dawn until dusk, spring through autumn. The only time she broke from her work was to threaten trespassers with her pruning tool and a harsh, "Step on my lawn and I'll cut off your ears."
Most children feared Mrs. Donohoe, often crossing to the other side of the street to avoid her property. Some eased past her house, carefully monitoring each step to avoid accidents. A few brave ones watched for her to settle into weeding position on her knees, touched a toe or finger to her grass, and ran when she finally rose with the pruning tool to come after them.
Adults either laughed at Mrs. Donohoe, "You'd think those begonias were gold," or resented her, "Who does she think she is?" Mr. and Mrs. Johnson took it even further; they hated Mrs. Donohue. "We don't care about her pansies. Kids will be kids and she'd better leave ours alone." They taunted her. "Move if you don't want our kids picking your tulips."
One summer, Mr. Johnson's brother and his family came to stay with our Johnsons, bringing the total number of Johnson kids on the block up to eight. Mrs. Donohoe wore herself out chasing the new kids with her pruning tool. She left her own yard and chased the Johnson kids off every lawn. The neighbors congregated in lawn chairs to laugh and talk about her. The crazy lady should mind her own business.
The new Johnson kids tired of picking tulips and pansies and taught the original Johnson kids new games. They flattened metal garbage cans, toilet-papered trees, and egged houses and cars. Mrs. Donohoe couldn't keep up with them. When she called on the neighbors for help, they refused her because the original Mrs. Johnson always waved when she passed and the new one was expecting another baby any day. Besides, both Mr. Johnsons were loud and owned guns, so nobody wanted to cross them. They said she should really just mind her own business; the neighborhood belonged to everyone.
Daddy Johnsons came home from an auction with baseball bats, gloves, and balls, and the Johnson kids turned the street into a baseball field. A few people sided with Mrs. Donohoe when they tired of parking at the corner because they couldn't get through the game to their homes. They slipped over to her house late at night, when the Johnsons weren't looking, and asked her to expand her pruning tool chase into the street.
When the sun came up, they stayed inside and left her on her own. Some continued to shout insults at her while they waved to Mrs. Johnson.
For Sale signs went up in three yards after the owners replaced baseball-shattered windows in their cars and homes. Others tired of replacing glass and covered their windows with boards. The only prospective buyers willing to brave crossing the Johnson kids and their baseball bats were those carrying weapons bigger than the baseball bats.
Soon, the Johnsons were the only people on the block who ventured outdoors. There were two ways off the block: through the alley and selling property at half its value.
Mrs. Donohoe let her yard turn into right field. She sold her pruning tool to replace the side panel in her front door.
Most children feared Mrs. Donohoe, often crossing to the other side of the street to avoid her property. Some eased past her house, carefully monitoring each step to avoid accidents. A few brave ones watched for her to settle into weeding position on her knees, touched a toe or finger to her grass, and ran when she finally rose with the pruning tool to come after them.
Adults either laughed at Mrs. Donohoe, "You'd think those begonias were gold," or resented her, "Who does she think she is?" Mr. and Mrs. Johnson took it even further; they hated Mrs. Donohue. "We don't care about her pansies. Kids will be kids and she'd better leave ours alone." They taunted her. "Move if you don't want our kids picking your tulips."
One summer, Mr. Johnson's brother and his family came to stay with our Johnsons, bringing the total number of Johnson kids on the block up to eight. Mrs. Donohoe wore herself out chasing the new kids with her pruning tool. She left her own yard and chased the Johnson kids off every lawn. The neighbors congregated in lawn chairs to laugh and talk about her. The crazy lady should mind her own business.
The new Johnson kids tired of picking tulips and pansies and taught the original Johnson kids new games. They flattened metal garbage cans, toilet-papered trees, and egged houses and cars. Mrs. Donohoe couldn't keep up with them. When she called on the neighbors for help, they refused her because the original Mrs. Johnson always waved when she passed and the new one was expecting another baby any day. Besides, both Mr. Johnsons were loud and owned guns, so nobody wanted to cross them. They said she should really just mind her own business; the neighborhood belonged to everyone.
Daddy Johnsons came home from an auction with baseball bats, gloves, and balls, and the Johnson kids turned the street into a baseball field. A few people sided with Mrs. Donohoe when they tired of parking at the corner because they couldn't get through the game to their homes. They slipped over to her house late at night, when the Johnsons weren't looking, and asked her to expand her pruning tool chase into the street.
When the sun came up, they stayed inside and left her on her own. Some continued to shout insults at her while they waved to Mrs. Johnson.
For Sale signs went up in three yards after the owners replaced baseball-shattered windows in their cars and homes. Others tired of replacing glass and covered their windows with boards. The only prospective buyers willing to brave crossing the Johnson kids and their baseball bats were those carrying weapons bigger than the baseball bats.
Soon, the Johnsons were the only people on the block who ventured outdoors. There were two ways off the block: through the alley and selling property at half its value.
Mrs. Donohoe let her yard turn into right field. She sold her pruning tool to replace the side panel in her front door.
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