It was Methuselah. Gracie could tell because whenever Methuselah spoke, the wind smelled of jelly beans. Gracie liked jelly beans, so she like Methuselah, too.
'Well, come on,' Methuselah said. 'Can't stay down there all day.'
'Otay,' said Gracie, who was still a little teary-eyed.
Somewhere in the not-so-far-off distance, a farmer stopped his tractor and stared at the clouds above.
'Did you go down there because you got in trouble, today?'
'Yesh.'
'Bet that hurt, didn't it?'
'Muh huh.'
'Martha,' said the farmer to his wife. 'I'm headin' up town to see Doc Harris. I'm hearing voices again, and I swear to God it smells like jelly beans out there.'