Sascha was a plain but neat looking girl that stayed next door. I wasn’t quite sure what the story on her was. The people living in the house were obviously not her parents, you could see the lack of enthusiasm they showed toward her. They only called her Sascha, never dear or baby or anything cute and cuddly that parents might call their daughter. Her life seemed like a regimen of school and home. I never saw them take her any place. It seemed she was a prisoner in that house. One Saturday, the man of the house left early. With the luggage he was carrying, it would appear he was headed out of town for more than a few days. Later that morning, his wife left also, I figured to probably do the weekend shopping. I was out at the curb, trying to get my weedeater to start, when Sascha, emerged from the house. “Mister, if you will choke it halfway, pull the rope once, then put it to start and pull again, it will start,” she said with a slight laugh in her voice. Not wanting to offend her, I did as instructed and the damn thing started. I waved to her a said an unheard thanks, as she collected the mail from the mail box next to mine, then went back inside. In less than an hour, all my weedeating was done and all that was left to do was sweep the sidewalk and dispose of the grass cuttings. Just as I got everything into the garbage bag and took it to the curb for pick up, Sascha emerged from the house with a tray of two cold drinks. “i thought you might be thristy, Mister, so I squeezed you some lemonade and thought I would have some too,” she said quitely, almost beaming, no doubt proud to be able to help someone. “Come on over to my patio,” and we’ll enjoy that lemonade, and thanks for the lemonade and for helping me with my weedeater,” I encouragingly asked her. “Okay, I can stay for a few minutes, Maggie won’t be back until later this afternoon, it’s her hairstyle and grocery shopping day,” she chortled in an unamused voice. As we sat down on the picnic table, across from each other, I looked her over pretty good. Just guessing, I figured she was 17 at the most. She was cute in a plain kind of way, neatly dressed in beige slacks and a light cotton pull over blouse. She was slender, not well endowed, rather a petite figure in 5’7″ frame.