“Hey, you want to play horseshoes?” Coralee says, and I nod, because I’ll do anything to keep from thinking about the contest. We take Bert’s phone away and drag him with us.

“You cheated!”

“Coralee, I did not. There is no possible way to cheat at horseshoes.”

“Yes, there is, Bert. I saw you step over that line.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. Ellie’s still winning.”

I only half hear them. It’s been ten minutes and still no Grandpa. I leave them to it and go back over to the picnic tables. Our place is now taken up by a family with a stroller, and I can’t see Mom or Mema anywhere.

I roll back into the gym. Maybe they’re bidding on the silent auction. But it’s so hot in there, I can’t stay more than a minute or two. Just long enough to see they’re not in there.

I’m about to go back to the horseshoes when Mom comes running.

“Ellie, we’ve got to go.” She takes me by the handles.

“Hey, no! What are you doing? They haven’t even announced the winner yet!”

We’re wheeling toward the parking lot so fast, the wind’s whipping my hair.

“You grandfather’s gone. He took the Buick.”

“What?”

But I see Mema already in the front seat of the van and motioning out the window for us to hurry up.

Nobody says a word as we speed toward home.

Our street is quiet. There’s not even a dog barking. It seems like the whole world went down to church today.

The Buick’s not in the drive.

Mema starts to cry.

Mom turns around in her seat to look at me. “Ellie, I need you to stay here.”

“Mom, no—”

“Hush now. I need you here in case Grandpa comes back or somebody calls the house phone. Can you do that for me?”

She’s already out of the van and lowering the lift. So I just nod. I’m too scared to do anything else. I’m barely out and on the front walk when they back down the driveway in a cloud of dust.

I know I’m supposed to go into the house, but it’s too quiet. I can’t sit still. I rock back and forth in place. I tilt back and look at the blue, blue sky cut in half by the telephone wire. Somewhere up in the tree, a bird caws. It sounds like a crow. I drop back down and roll along the front walk, bumping over the seashells Mema put down in the cement after their one trip to the beach. I stop by the canning shed and sit in the shade. I try not to panic.

That’s when I hear it.

A humming.