ear,
the lake shrinking, the birds, the fish . . . " She shuddered.

"More wine, mother?"

"Yes, a little."

The next day passed quietly. Brendan split and Joe stacked a large pile
of firewood. Ann went shopping. They took naps. Brendan and Joe went
out for dinner to the "Fisherman's Friend."

"Now that's a haddock plate!" Joe said.

"Finest kind," Brendan agreed. "La Nouvelle Cuisine has not reached
Stonington." They had coffee and mammoth pieces of pie.

"Ann seems to be taking it pretty well," Joe said.

"She's a trooper," Brendan said. "What was your mother like? You know,
I grew up with that drawing. Whenever I saw you, I always felt the
similarity."

Joe leaned back in his chair, surprised. "Well, she wasn't a trooper.
She was talented, I guess."

"Do you think of her often?"

"Hardly ever--not very good memories."

"Like?"

Joe sipped coffee. "She was always leaving me places. Once, when I was
six, she left me with an old couple in New York. They were very old.
They made me stay in a playpen for a week."

"A week?"

"Yeah. It was torture. I was used to having the run of the block. It
was summer. The playpen was by a window where I could see the street;
that was good, anyway. I remember the dust floating in the room."

"How awful," Brendan said. Memories rushed into Joe's mind as though a
lock had been picked.

"I used to listen to radio shows every day at five o'clock. Sergeant
Preston of the Yukon and his Great Dog, King. On KING! AroofRoofRoof .
. . " Joe looked around the dining room and lowered his voice. "I found
a dime on the couch one afternoon and showed it to my mother.

"'Where did you get that?' she wanted to know.

"Found it on the couch.

"'Don't lie to me!' she said. 'You stole it, didn't you? Maggie told me
the kids were taking money from little Sean. Tell me the truth.'

"I found it on the couch.

"'You're lying.'

"It's five o'clock--Sergeant Preston . . .

"'You're not listening to the radio until you tell me the truth."'

Joe made a face. "I was so desperate to hear Sergeant Preston that I
told her I stole the dime." Brendan was silent. "She wouldn't believe
me," Joe said. "That was the worst. She wouldn't believe me." Brendan
looked at the napkin Joe had crumpled in one hand, and he shook his
head.

"I guess," Joe said, putting the napkin ball on the table, "if I wanted
to be adult about it, I'd say she was too high strung--one of these
people with major leag