“I guess they do,” I said, trying to wrap my brain around it. Though the thought was a terrible one. I decided to change the subject. “I’m not sure the fire will work. It’s not raining anymore, but it’s still super wet outside.”

Jasper laughed and pointed to a few buckets and cans in the middle of the room, collecting drips from leaks in the ceiling. “Yeah, it’s pretty wet in here too.”

“Ugh,” I said. “That’s no fun. But anyway, I brought the other stuff we need. For flaming brains. And I found some marshmallows too.”

“What are we waiting for?” Jasper slipped on her flip-flops and I hoisted the bag up on my shoulder. Then we left the house to hike back down through the kudzu, slipping a little in the mud. We walked the short trek up the creek, and then to the farm, heading for the very middle, where no tree branches would block the sky. There I unpacked my bag and laid the quilt down. Luckily it was thick enough that the wet grass didn’t soak all the way through. I set out the marshmallows and the lantern in the middle of it. Then we sat down around the lantern. Almost like it was a campfire. Jasper’s face glowed in the lantern light.

Once we were finally sitting down, the night changed. It settled. It calmed along with us. The sky above us was overcast, soft and thick with clouds. It looked like gray felt. All around us, the trees dripped, and each time the wind blew, a scatter of drops could be heard hitting the ground. The occasional intrepid firefly blinked here and there. Everything felt hushed and cooler than usual. Like the night was waiting.

Jasper tore open the marshmallow bag and popped one into her mouth. “Okay,” she said. “What’s the big deal with these brains?”

“You’ll see,” I said, reaching for a piece of newspaper.

I laid it out in front of me on the quilt and folded the corners like my dad had taught me, into triangles, and then I popped the whole thing open, like a sort of box.

“Is it basically a paper airplane?” asked Jasper.

“More like a blimp,” I said, reaching for another piece of newspaper. I folded a second box. Then I stood and motioned for Jasper to do the same. “Come on,” I said. “Not on the blanket.”

We walked about twenty feet away and stood, holding our newspaper contraptions. I struck a match, watched it flare, and then lit Jasper’s brain. “Okay, now let go!” I said.