I glanced at the field, where the Stratford quarterback had passed the ball to the wide receiver, who was passing it right back to the quarterback.
"No," I said. "That's a flea-flicker."
Stratford was leading 7-0 in the second quarter. I sat there watching fans cheer and groan, parents pass out burgers, tuba players blare the Rocky theme song. I had been to only one Summerville game in my life, so I couldn't quite gauge whether it was me or if the air really was lacking a certain charge. Ryan Snipes's mom sure noticed it. Then a Stratford kid fumbled, players dived for the bouncing ball...and the stadium went black.
Stone cold black, lights out, all four stanchions. A gasp went up. My heart clawed its way into my throat. A girl cried, "They're gonna bomb us!"
A teenager called, "What should we do?"
"Quiet!" men shouted. "Quiet!"
"Dad, look!" said Noah. "There's a plane up there!"
"It's O.K.," I said. All eyes were fixed on the blinking light. "It's just the electricity. The power went out."
On the field silhouettes stampeded here, then there. "Dad," said Noah, "don't you think we should go?"
"No," I lied.