There was a big area of grass to be cut. A big rectangle. Under the tree--near the center of the area was a big tree and the grass didn't grow very much in the big circle area under the tree. It was mostly leaves, twigs and weeds there. But you had to run the lawnmower across the entire yard. You had to cut the grass. There was no doubt about that. The deer under the tree froze--got scared by me and the loud noise of the lawnmower, but there was nothing I could do. The yard to cut got bigger. It was behind the Abrams house. I wasn't cutting in straight rows, but loops and curves and arcs. There was a hose pipe laid out--loops and circles too--and I kept trying not to run over it because the lawnmower would chop it up. A woman was sprinkling salt into a small container of rocks and water. The salt would stir up invisible but you could still taste it. It was for her husband. The salt would keep things from growing. Poison. There was an algebra test. I had all the answers for it written. ???. I couldn't help but laugh over Dora not being able to dance. When I took the test, I'd erased strategically, so it'd look like I had to work out the answer. On my desk I had a stack of albums and notebooks. One had a funny drawing of a blue monster on it. I held it up for a guy across the room to see and we laughed out loud. Next on the stack was an album by a band called "Twig Boy." I thought the name was so funny I held it up too. I went to the building next door and saw a man in a blue sweat suit, ringing the doorbell. I recognized him as being a runner I saw every morning in that sweat suit. I went to speak to him but he was not attentive. He was going on a ??? purposes. He was ringing Ben's doorbell. Ben came out and they left. I went by the store before going in. I got 2 cans of coke and 2 quarts of water. I went out on the back porch to look for something. It was night. A hand was reaching up and had cut through the screen. It was a man's hand. It was holding a rusted metal spike, razor knife. I knew he had climbed up on something to break in. And the evil way his hand was groping, I knew my hand had to smash his, but I was afraid he'd stab me with the rusted spike. More than afraid. I knew it would happen. So I picked up something, I had no time to find the best thing to use as a weapon--and I crashed down on his unsuspecting hand. (A he was reaching up from below, his head was below porch level, so he couldn't see me.) I came down with a bang and started screaming, "Call the cops! Call the cops! Call the cops!" I was stuttering. I'd been stuttering all through everything. I hoped my father could hear me screaming so he could call the cops.