Free The Other Side of the Island by Allegra Goodman Page A

She loved Quintilian. At first Honor didn’t think she could share her mother’s feelings, because the baby had caused so much trouble, but gradually she changed her mind.
    Quintilian was cheerful. His dark eyes were perfectly round, and when he learned to sit up, he clapped as if he were applauding himself. He made Honor laugh. She liked to squeeze his fat legs and watch him learn to stand and babble. She loved to rest her hand on his huge fuzzy head.
    On Errand Day, when the family slept in late, Honor would carry Quintilian into their parents’ room. Then she’d bring in the Errand Day Leaflet from the front door, and Will and Pamela would sit up against their pillows and fold paper gliders from the leaflet’s stiff pages, announcing the new week’s Goals and Initiatives. Waste Not, Want Not: Save and Reuse Boxes, Bags, Bottles, Shoes. Anti-roach Week: Invest in Traps TODAY. Families were meant to post the Goals and Initiatives on the wall right next to their picture of Earth Mother. Sometimes the Greenspoons did, especially after Mr. Pratt or his wife, Mrs. Pratt, came calling. Most weeks they forgot.
    Whoosh! Will and Pamela launched those paper gliders over to Quintilian, where he stood holding on to the foot of the bed. He’d laugh and laugh. Sometimes he laughed so hard he lost his balance. Then, with a surprised look on his face, he’d find himself sitting down. When Quintilian picked up the gliders, they went straight into his mouth.
    For breakfast on Errand Day, Will made pancakes. He fried them on his griddle. “A big one for Daddy, a middle-size one for Honor, and a wee little tiny one for baby,” he said.
    “Aren’t you forgetting someone?” Pamela asked.
    “Patience, patience, don’t be in such a rush,” teased Will.
    “I’m hungry, you know,” said Pamela.
    “Do you think we should feed her?” Will asked Honor and Quintilian. “Well, all right. A great big enormous one for Mommy.” He scraped up all the leftover batter and poured an extra-big pancake for Pamela at the end.
    Then, when breakfast was over, the family would go off shopping or wheel their dirty clothes to the neighborhood washing machines. They’d pile up their laundry in Quintilian’s stroller and he’d ride on top.
    But the best times of all were afternoons at Peaceful Park. The park was big and dusty, and hardly anybody played there. No one liked that scorching field without a single tree. No one except the Greenspoons. Peaceful Park was perfect for flying kites.
    Will and Pamela built two kites, and they were amazing creations. Pamela cut the kites out of old red rain ponchos. Will rigged the fabric to the lightest, thinnest lengths of green bamboo and tied each kite to an extra-long roll of cord. Finally Pamela drew faces on the kites with black laundry marker. Great toothy smiles and crazy bloodshot eyes. On breezy days when the wind was not too light and not too strong, Will and Pamela and the children flew their homemade kites in Peaceful Park until they were specks in the blue sky. When the wind was just right, the kites felt so strong and safe up there that Honor imagined nothing could budge them.
    “Ho hum,” boasted Will, “I could stand here all day and this kite would hold. It’s like fishing.”
    “Fishing in reverse,” said Pamela. “Sky fishing.”
    “What do you fish for in the air?” asked Honor.
    Pamela and Will started laughing. “Oh, planets,” said Will. “The occasional comet. An asteroid or two.”
    Honor held one kite string, and Will held the other. Pamela held Quintilian. On those afternoons, four did not seem like the wrong number for a family. Four seemed just right.
     
    Other days were difficult. Will stayed out late and Quintilian cried and wouldn’t go to sleep. Then Pamela stroked his back, and Honor tried to sing him lullabies. She sang him “Safe We Shall Abide,” the hymn she’d learned at school. “Safe we shall abide, from wind and rain and tide . . .”
    But