My sister Mindy stopped dead in her tracks and threw her arm in front of me, as if I were about to be hit by a truck. I nearly dropped the bag of warm bagels we were bringing home for Sunday lunch.

Mindy towered over me although she's only a year older. "Look, Ben!" she said in a loud stage whisper. "They really are making Leo Wolf clean the wall." I peered down the wide alley between Kuper's Bakery and World Wide Travel. Sure enough, there was Leo, balanced on a ladder, his thick muscular arm slapping white paint over the bright graffiti he had scrawled on the side of the building last summer. Because he was only 13, his punishment was "restitution." In normal language, this meant he had to put the wall back the way it was. It seemed Leo was painting the wall clean.

"Crime doesn't pay," I quipped, but Mindy just frowned.

"It's not funny, Ben," she said, stepping closer to the alley. I tried to stay behind her, hoping Leo wouldn't notice me. At school Leo goes out of his way to knock me into the lockers whenever he sees me in the hall. He thinks that's absolutely hilarious. As for me, I spend lots of time avoiding him. Mostly, I'm in the band room, trying to blow jazz notes out of my clarinet, and trying to forget Leo even exists.

Hiding behind my sister didn't work. "What're you staring at?" Leo barked. "Get out of here before I accidentally spill this paint. You'd look even uglier with white hair."

I knew Leo wasn't kidding. I tried to push Mindy forward, but she was rooted to the sidewalk. "You don't scare us, you big bully," she said firmly. I couldn't have agreed less. My mouth went dry.

"Come on, Mindy," I said. "Leave him alone."

Leo sneered down at us. "My graffiti was nicer than anything else in this alley." He waved his arm toward the trash and weeds that covered the empty space. "Who cares, anyway? Here's a news flash--this place is a dump! Pass it on."

Leo's words stuck in my head as we headed home. The alleyway really did look like a dump, littered with broken glass, rusted car parts, and bags of trash. My mother set out the regular spread for Sunday lunch--bagels, cream cheese, lox, and a plate of sliced tomatoes and onions. But I didn't feel like eating. I kept glancing out the kitchen window, watching Leo painting that wall. Slowly the fat letters that said "Giants Rule" and some choice swear words in red and blue spray paint began to disappear. The wall near Leo now read "ants rule." That was certainly true for the alley. The September sun glinted off a broken car fender. "Who cares?" Leo had asked. I wondered--who did care?

"What's so interesting?" Dad asked, piling onions on his bagel and lox sandwich.

"Leo Wolf's punishment for vandalism was to paint the alley wall across the street," Mindy piped up. "Although it's going to take a lot more than paint to make that spot look good."

Dad looked toward the alley. "Not exactly picturesque, is it?" he asked.

"Neighbors have complained so many times," Mom said, "but nothing changes."

It sounded like a lot of people cared about the weedy lot. The space was small, but the mess made a big impact on the neighborhood. After lunch, I headed downstairs. Mindy followed me. "What are you up to?" she asked.

I ignored her and walked down the creaky wooden stairs that led to the musty basement. The custodian had a couple of rakes neatly hung from the wall. A box of trash bags and a pair of work gloves sat on a rickety table nearby. I put on the gloves, and took a rake and a trash bag.

Mindy draped her long, skinny body across the doorway. "What is the password, o toady one?"

"Out of my way, string bean." I nudged her aside. "I'm going to clean up the alley. Maybe if Leo sees that someone does care, he won't be so cocky about what he did."

Mindy scowled. "Stay out of it. If you start working over there with Leo, people might think you're as guilty as he is."

I hesitated for a moment. Mindy might be right. I sure didn't want anyone thinking I'd been part of what Leo had done. I thought of the different neighbors who hire me to do odd jobs. They might not trust me again. But I felt that I had to do something.

"If people think I'm doing this because I'm guilty, that's just a risk I'll have to take." I hoped I sounded convincing, although I wasn't sure I had convinced myself. I could feel Mindy's eyes on my back as I dashed across the street, darting between cars and stepping into the alley. Leo glared at me, then turned back to his painting.

I raked up rusty nails, broken bottles, empty soda cans, and coffee cups. I was struggling to stuff the trash bag when two hands reached out to hold it open for me. It was Mindy. She had brought another rake and the entire box of trash bags, and she was smiling. "I though you could use some help."

I grinned back. "I guess the neighbors will think we're both guilty!"

"I decided you've got a point about showing that someone cares," she admitted. "If we can at least pick up the broken bottles and other nasty stuff, maybe kids could actually play here." We rolled an old tire toward the curb. "Remember what the rabbi said about making the world a better place?" Mindy asked.

I hadn't thought about that talk since the Rosh Hashanah service, but maybe the idea just needed a dose of reality to make it seem possible. "Let's pile up the bigger things for the trash pickup," I said. "Smaller pieces of junk can go into bags."

I lugged my first bulging trash bag out to the curb, and saw my friend, Gabe. He played a mellow saxophone in jazz band. "What's up, dude?" Gabe asked. "I thought Leo had to clean up this mess."

"He's painting," I said. "But I thought it would be good to clean up the whole lot, instead of just the wall."

"I'd steer clear of Leo if I were you," Gabe said. But when I went back to the lot, Gabe followed me. "Hey, I gotcha covered, man," he said, using what he though was his best jazz lingo. He started pulling weeds from a dirt patch along the wall opposite Leo. "There are flowers in here," he said. "I think this used to be a garden. Cool!"

A woman walked by pushing a sleepy toddler in a stroller. "Is the city finally cleaning up this eyesore?" she asked.

"Not exactly," I said. "A few of us thought we'd try to spruce it up a little."

The woman looked up at Leo, and her expression soured. "Are you the kids who put that filthy mess on the wall? You should be ashamed."

"We didn't write that," I said lamely, but I was talking to the woman's back. She pushed the stroller away as if we all had a communicable disease. Mindy shot me a look that said, "I told you so." I shrugged it off, but felt the sting of being put in the same guilty category with Leo.

My sense of defeat was short, though. Mr. Kuper came over from the bakery and started to help us. "This lot has needed a cleanup for too long," he said. "Glad you kids got things started." I gave Mindy a triumphant thumbs up.

The activity seemed like a magnet. More people stopped and helped without being asked. They stayed for a few minutes, or an hour, and did whatever needed doing.

A stooped man in a baseball cap dragged in a small bench. "This was in my hallway," he said. "It could make a good place to sit and talk." We placed the bench in a sunny spot.

Leo climbed down from the ladder and rubbed his arm. "This is hard work." The top portion of the wall was finished, but the bottom was grimy brick. He lowered his eyes. "I didn't think anyone would want to come into this alley."

"They will if it's clean," I said. "Are there any extra brushes?"

Leo pointed to a package. "And there's plenty of paint, since I didn't dump any on you." He grinned sheepishly.

I started painting the bottom of the wall. "And don't shove me into the wet paint, either," I said. Leo shook his head. Maybe he'd actually leave me alone at school. Mindy and Gabe picked up brushes, and the four of us worked together.

"Let us know when you're tired," one of the neighbors said. "There are lots of helping hands here."

I looked at Leo. "I think you started something good, although you didn't know it," I said. "And here's a news flash--this place is a park. Pass it on!"