He glanced at the clock, then back out the window. If only Granddaddy would meander past the school like he sometimes did, pausing to talk to anyone who happened to be out, or if Ned could just see him sitting in his spot on his porch, whistling or napping. The day was dragging on forever. When the bell finally did ring, Ned sprang out of his seat and dashed into the hallway. Just as he got to the door, Franklin grabbed his arm. “Is Granddaddy coming?” “He can’t today,” said Ned. “You guys go ahead without me. I’ll be back.” Ned ran all the way home, eager to see Granddaddy, to tell him about the challenge, dreading seeing an empty porch chair or Gladdy waiting on the front step again. But Granddaddy had nodded off on his porch chair like always, his chin resting on his chest, one arm resting on his belly, the other slack by his side. Ned hesitated at the bottom of the steps. What if Granddaddy wasn’t napping this time? What if he had died right there in his chair? How would Ned know?
