There’s still no news …and no leads about Stephen. Leah and Josiah still cry themselves to sleep at night. Shannon and Mom try to console them and not think about the sad reality.

   Rebekkah visits often, trying not to focus on her frustration of not being able to give them any new information concerning Stephen.  But one piece of new information that she is able to pass on, brings a bit of thankfulness around Thanksgiving.  

   She announces, “I received a call this morning.  Ray and Claudia had a boy. They named him Aidin Eadin ---Aidin Eadin Isaac.”
                  
   Rebekkah invites Ray and Claudia to Ruth’s place for Thanksgiving dinner, along with Charles, Sharon, and Merrie …Ray's little brother, sister, and their mom.   Rebekkah has the food catered, not to be a burden on either Cindy or Ruth.
                  
   Rebekkah is curious, “How did you come up with the name, Aidin?”
                  
   Ray likes to tell stories, “Well, Claudia says that I’d be a good dad as far as playing with the child goes, but I’d have to be taught a thing or two about responsibility.  I laughed and asked her if I was supposed to teach the child or the child teach me.  The Bible doesn’t say for the child to train up the parents in the way they should go.”
                  
   Claudia doesn't allow herself to be excluded from comment, “I said the learning goes both ways.  We teach the child and the child teaches us.”
                  
   Ray continues his story, “Anyway, I laughed and said I guess that would mean I’d have a help-mate and a teacher’s aid.  So I picked the name Aidin.  I figured that was appropriate, since he’d be my aid in responsibility.  Claudia doesn’t think I’m very disciplined, so I guess he’s supposed to be my aid in discipline too.  But I had to laugh when we later looked up the meaning of our last name.  I never knew that Isaac meant laughter.  I told Claudia that the child would be teaching her a thing or two also.   She can’t be so serious all the time, insisting on responsibility.   So, our son will be her teacher also ...her aid in laughter.”
                    
   Rebekkah smiles, “I like the name …Aidin Eadin Isaac.  I imagine cuddling the child …A-E-I, oh, you!”

Shannon quickly eats her sandwich and sets her plate on an end table. The placing of her glass of milk needs more attentiveness, but her reflexes more than compensate for her lack of gracefulness. Only a small portion of her milk spills on a magazine resting open on the table. And she quickly grabs her napkin to absorb the spill.

   The spill draws Shannon’s attention to the article entitled: “Request Granted by Make a Wish Foundation Ends in Tragedy”.   

   Rebekkah calmly reassures her, “Don’t worry, that’s just Boaters  magazine.  I get it once a month.  I first subscribed to it years ago, but don’t really find much time to read them.  I've been meaning to cancel it."  

Shannon looks at the magazine cover, featuring the article. She draws it closer to her face …then suddenly gasps!

   Startled, they all turn towards Shannon.  She gasps again, “It’s Dad!”

Rebekkah looks through the photos again. The magazine had cropped the photo to center in on the man in the captain’s hat. But the actual photo before enlargement clearly shows the men on each side. On one side is Scully’s shipmate, Doyle. But on the other side is clearly Crazy Larry. There is no mistake about that.

   Scully never cries, but he does feel the pain and attempts to fill the void, “I did have the authorities come out and they did locate my boat.   But they couldn’t locate your Stephen or the crazy Larry, as you call him. You’re sure it’s the ones you’re looking for?” 
   Rebekkah sadly confirms, “It’s them.  There’s no doubt by the photos.”

This news provides no comfort for those back home in Michigan. Though closure would be the eventual path all should go, they aren’t ready for that. They were still attempting to cling onto a faint hope. But now that small flicker of hope is extinguished. The fire and the watery grave stand as bold, uncaring forces that now consume them in grief.

   The children accept it better than Cindy had anticipated.  They talk as if Dad had died with honor and dignity, now buried at sea.

Cindy has many more tears to spend. She sits alone in a rocking chair, attempting to contain most of her emotion as she reflects back on the event of the previous day. Cindy is overwhelmed not only by the circumstances, but also by the number of people who had attended the funeral service. Besides Community Bible, there was the complete congregation of Metamora Fellowship. And it was unbelievable the number of people who’d become acquaintances of Cindy through the countless activities she had participated in over the past several years. But the most amazing fact of all was that, of all the students she’d taught those few years at Wing Lake School, nearly all of them attended the funeral service. And many of them had written her beautiful letters of how she had impacted their lives.

   Cindy sits in the rocker, reading some of the cards and letters as tears roll down her face.  The cordless phone resting beside her rings.                                                                                                      

   It is Fernye.  “How are you doing, Cindy?”
                 
   Cindy wipes the back of her hand across her tears, “Okay, …and not okay.”
                 
   Fernye inquires, “How are the children doing?”

Cindy wipes her hand on her shirt, re-gripping the phone with a dry hand, “Well, I don’t really know. Josiah pats me on the back and tells me it’s okay. Three years old and he’s already acting like the man of the house. Leah often cries bitterly with me. Right now, they’ve got all the dining room chairs pushed together, pretending it’s a boat. And they’re taking turns wearing the captain hat. I wish I could be like them …I'm not doing well at all.”

Cindy’s words get choked off by more tears.
               
Fernye finds it difficult over the phone, “How about Shannon?”

   Cindy sighs, “I don’t really know.   She seemed to do the best after Stephen disappeared, trying to attach herself to all the joyful things ...the fun, the adventure, the discoveries.  All her focus was on the living aspects of Stephen.  I guess I should be more like her.  I want to be more like her. I want to live the joys of Stephen, not the disappointments.   I think what  I want is to take up writing …supplementing what he'd begun to write.  And I believe what Rebekkah had sent for publication was unfinished.  I don't think he'd be happy with that.  I want to finish writing the book he started.  I want to live all the dreams.  In a couple years we should be moving into the walled community.  I want all that to happen.  I guess Leah shares my tears, Josiah is my comforter, and Shannon is my dreamer.  I don’t really know how Shannon is doing, Grandma.  Even though she had never seemed to get close to him when he was here, it was truly evident that he loved her.  And I’m certain she knows that.  Do you think it’s healthy for her not to shed any tears?”