She left a hole in their lives. A hole that they tried to fill, but it was too deep, too wide, too easy to fall into. They erected barriers around it. But the barriers became bigger than the hole. They distracted attention, got in the way. The danger of falling into the hole was gone, but now the barriers tripped them up.

They had different ways of coping. Jeff shut himself off. Scott and Virgil threw themselves into study and sports. John began writing. Alan was too young to really understand their loss.

Gordon clung.

Gordon clung to John and John, surprisingly, allowed it. They sat on the roof together, looking at stars. 'Fish of the sky' Gordon told his brother, and John laughed. 'Fish of the sky,' he agreed.

'Is mom ever coming back?' Gordon asked.

'One day,' answered John. 'But not now.'

'Why? Why not now?' Earnest brown eyes met Nordic blue ones.

'Because she has things to do.'

Gordon frowned, his childish features pinching together. 'Like what?'

John put his arm around Gordon's shoulder, pulling the smaller boy close. 'Feeding the fish of the sky. It's a very important job.'

'Oh,' said Gordon, awestruck.

When Jeff took the whiskey bottle out of the cupboard, Gordon toddled over and stared at him until he put the glass down. 'What?' he said irritably.

'Mom's feeding the fish,' said Gordon happily. 'The fish of the sky. John said so.'

'Oh he did, did he?'

Gordon nodded gravely.

'Then you tell John,' said Jeff, leaning close. 'That he's absolutely right.'

'I will,' said Gordon, running away. 'I will.'