We all went to the carnival — me and Burke and Betty Allen and the father Burke and the grandfather Burke. And I still had not made up my mind whether I would stay or whether I would leave. I just could not decide.

But the good news is that that the World-Famous Betty Allen Cake Raffle was set up on the lawn in front of the Lost Shepherd Church. The cakes were arranged end to end on a long table, and they were beautiful to behold.

There was a large glass fishbowl on the table, too, and every time somebody bought a raffle ticket, Betty Allen ripped the ticket in half and put one half into the bowl and handed the other half back to the person who hoped to win a cake.

The piano had been rolled out from the social hall, and Miss Lulu was playing what she must have thought was an appropriate cake raffling song. It occurred to me that no matter what I did, I just could not escape from Miss Lulu and her attempts at making music.

It cost a dollar for every ticket, and Burke Allen the grandfather gave me five dollars so I could purchase five tickets because I really, really wanted to win a cake.

“I would buy you all them cakes, doodlebug,” said Grandfather Burke. “I would buy you every last one of them. You don’t even got to throw your tiny hat into the ring. All you got to do is say the word and I will buy ’em all up for you.”

But I wanted to enter the raffle.

I wanted to throw my tiny hat into the ring.

I wanted to take my chances.

Miss Lulu continued to play music — pounding away at what sounded to me like a cake raffle dirge — until all the tickets were sold and then Betty Allen said, “We have seventeen cakes, ladies and gentlemen. And I will call seventeen winning numbers.”

People applauded, and I clapped, too. And then I looked down at my tickets. Were they winning tickets? I could not tell. I studied them very carefully.

Betty Allen cleared her throat. Miss Lulu played a dramatic piano roll.

Betty Allen said, “The first winner is two fifty-six.”

Well, I did not have ticket number 256. I went through my five tickets several times just to make sure. A very large lady in a purple dress shouted, “That’s me! That’s me! I have won a cake!” And she moved up to the table to select her cake while Miss Lulu played another dramatic roll on the piano, and everybody applauded.

And then we started all over again. Betty Allen put her hand into the fishbowl. Miss Lulu played some piano, and then Betty Allen pulled out a ticket and called out a number, and it was not my number.

Pretty soon, we had made it through almost all the cakes. There was just one left and it was the pineapple upside-down cake, and even though I would have been very happy to win it, I have to say that the pineapple rings on the top of it seemed the tiniest bit desperate. There is something very sad about pineapple rings.

I looked up at Grandfather Burke. He was studying me with a serious look on his face. And then I looked over at Betty Allen. She was holding the bowl with the numbers in it, and she was watching me, too.

I smiled at Betty Allen, and she smiled back at me. The light was shining off the fishbowl in a very beautiful way. Betty Allen put the bowl back on the table and reached her hand in and pulled out the last ticket. She did not once take her eyes off me.

I thought, I have won! I have won the last cake!

The fishbowl was all lit up with numbers and light. It really was a beautiful fishbowl.

And then I remembered the little glass bowls that Betty Allen had used for the ice-cream sundaes. I remembered sitting at the glass-topped table with all of the Allens. I remembered Grandfather Burke sliding his bowl over to me and saying, “That’s for you, doodlebug. Take what is offered to you.”

And I knew what I wanted to do.

I knew who I wanted to be.

I wanted to be the person who sat at that table.

I wanted to stay.

Betty Allen cleared her throat. She called out the last winning number.

And guess what?

It was not my number. I did not win a cake.

But I did not care.

I was staying.