“Tonight?” This was a terrible thing. Frankie was Gabe’s only friend within walking distance. They usually spent whole summers together—except for the summers Frankie spent with his dad. And this summer wasn’t supposed to be one of those. “So we don’t have time to talk her out of it?” He tried to think of apologies and promises that might somehow appease Frankie’s mom.

“Don’t try to talk her out of it,” said Frankie. “Really. Don’t. It won’t work. And at least in California I won’t have to see her glare at me for a while.” He kicked the sand under his swing with one foot. “I think we got the fuel mix wrong.”

“I think we shouldn’t have used a metal pipe,” Gabe told him. “Model rockets are usually paper and plastic. Lightweight. They cause less damage when they hit things. And they’re less likely to just fall over, spin in place, and spew flames.”

“But the pipe looked like it wanted to be a rocket, just sitting there in the garage,” Frankie said. “It was all shiny. Like it dreamed of becoming a rocket rather than a piece of plumbing. Anyway, thanks for saying it was your idea.”

“You’re welcome,” said Gabe.

“It kind of was your idea,” said Frankie.

“No, it wasn’t,” said Gabe. “Did any of the lawn furniture survive?”

“None of it,” said Frankie, his voice morose.

“Is lawn furniture expensive?” Gabe asked, a bit worried.

“Probably,” said Frankie. “I think she plans to take it out of us in leaf-raking and snow-shoveling later. But right now she doesn’t want to see either of us, so she’s banishing me to California. She’ll probably just ignore you if she sees you around. Were your parents mad?”

“Sort of,” said Gabe. “Dad tried to be, but he kept laughing. Mom was angrier, but mostly she was just relieved we didn’t die.”

He watched Noemi sift sand. Then he looked for Andrés and noticed that Andrés was no longer climbing stairs.

Gabe couldn’t see him. He scanned the various small children, looking for a familiar one. He stood up from his swing, still searching, ready to run but not yet sure which direction to run in.

Noemi still sat under the slide.

Andrés didn’t seem to be anywhere.

Then Gabe found him, finally. The toddler had left the playground, stepped onto the grass, and approached a very old woman sitting on a park bench. The old woman glared at the playground. She watched the children play as though planning to eat them all.

Andrés toddled right up to her as if he meant to offer himself as a sacrificial meal to spare the other kids. He stood and stared at the old woman. She stared right back at him. Neither moved or spoke until Gabe swooped in, scooped him up, and gave a quick apology.