When Gabe was almost five years old, he fell into a creek while fishing with his family. The water was deep, the current swift, and the child was immediately disoriented. He sank toward the bottom, too terrified to move in the dark, cold water. It was only a matter of seconds before his father hauled him out by his hair and dumped him, dripping wet and bawling, into his mother's arms.

He was back in that water now – cold and impenetrable and so very lost.

Where were his father's strong and capable hands this time? Why couldn't they seize him from this terror once again? And where were his mother's soft, comforting arms that should be holding him, warming him, soothing away the fear with her favorite lullaby?

Then he remembered.

Roses love sunshine, violets love dew, she had told him. She was alive in the ER, but if she was all right why wasn't she here, with him? He had heard his father's voice, and there were weird flashes of memory that kept trying to trick him. He remembered trying so hard to ask about her, but the words wouldn't come out.

Hear the wind blow, Dear, hear the wind blow. Those words came out. Angels in Heaven know I love you, not Is my mom okay?

He struggled to reach the surface. He could hear Teddy's voice, softly telling him how much she loved him. That was Teddy, always getting mushy about things. This one time, though, he wished he could lift his arms and reach for her.

"You're my baby brother, Gabe. I'm supposed to help take care of you. How can I do that if you won't wake up?" She asked. "Our house will just be too dull without you. Who's going give everyone a rough time if you're not there to do it? Please, you're . . . you're my baby brother."

Give my heart ease, dear, give my heart ease.

Later, he thought he heard a man crying. Gabe wished he could squirm. Bad enough to hear a woman cry, but a man sobbing was just too much pain to endure.

"I'm sorry I fought with you so many times," the man said. PJ?

"Mom says we should sit here and talk to you because you can hear us," PJ continued. "She says you're still in there somewhere. She's got to be right, Gabe. Please, I – I . . . "

Mom says? She's not dead?

"You can't just be . . . gone, not like this. I've still got to teach you about girls, y'know? Dad was really awful teaching me that stuff: 'Always treat a lady with respect, PJ. Hold the door for her; tell her she's beautiful, blah blah.' But I was going to teach you the good stuff. How to get a girl to let you kiss her, hold her hand, maybe even get to second base, right? Or maybe you're not old enough to be thinking about second base, yet."

Oh, I think about it. Almost got there with Jo Keener – twice.

"I know the girls in your grade like you, Dude. You don't ever notice it, but I've seen the way a couple of them look at you. See, that's something else I should have taught you – there's just a way a chick looks at you sometimes that lets you know that yeah, you've got a real shot with her. Gabe, who else can I teach all this stuff to? Sure, I've got to make sure Charlie knows how to stay away from guys like me. But I want to teach you to be a guy like me."

Angels in Heaven know I love you.

Still later, he heard Teddy's voice again, and his father's voice, and the PJ's again. Then he heard crashes and shouts, PJ's voice raised in anger, and then the slow, steady sound of his sister weeping.

Down in the valley, the valley so low.

***GLC****

Amy chafed at being so close to her son, but still unable to go to him. She knew it would be a matter of hours. First, they would gradually raise her head until she was able to sit upright without dizziness. Then they would show her how to stand up with a walker and take a few steps. Three steps. When she could take three steps to a wheelchair, she would be wheeled down to Gabe's room.

She refused to believe that he was gone beyond their reach. She had seen patients come back from this point, and she was determined that her little boy was going to be one of the rare ones to wake up after this many hours.

"I don't want him to be alone," she had instructed her family during an impromptu family meeting. "I want someone with him at all times. Talking to him, touching him—because physical contact is really important. He needs to know we're here with him."

Alone with Bob for a minute, she begged him to lift her into the wheelchair and take her there now. He refused.

"Do you have any idea how lucky you are to be alive at all?" He demanded. "Being able to walk is a bonus. I'm not going to take any chances with you."

"But Gabe –"

"—is going to need you if he wakes up," He finished for her. "Please, Amy, I can't lose both of you."

"Stop that!" She snapped. "You keep talking like he's gone. Don't say "if". We can't give up on him, Bob. We just can't."

He didn't answer.

Throughout the long hours of that day, they took turns with Gabe and with Amy, and even caught catnaps in uncomfortable chairs. They ate cold Kwikki Chikki food for lunch and again for supper when Mitch returned with another armload of food. Spencer came and went, bringing them bottles of water and phone chargers and anything else the family needed. Later in the day, Amy asked Teddy to have Ivy bring Charlie up to the hospital so she could see her family.

PJ was the first to completely lose control. One minute, he was talking to Gabe, and the next he was overturning trays and punching walls in a fit of blind fury.

"It's not fair!" He raged.

"You're right!" His father raged back. "But breaking up Gabe's hospital room isn't going to bring him back!"

"But he's just a kid. Kids aren't supposed to die, Dad. He never even made it to high school, or learned to drive, or . . . Dad, I can't remember if I ever told him I love him. What if he didn't know?"

"He knew, PJ." Bob pulled his oldest child close and fought back his own tears as PJ sobbed into his shirt.

"It's not fair," PJ said, more quietly this time. "They were just driving down the road. Five seconds earlier or later, and that tree would have missed them. Five seconds, Dad. Five seconds, and I'd still have my brother."

"PJ, he can hear you," Teddy whispered. "Don't give up on him. Mom said he needs to hear positive—"

"Mom doesn't know, Teddy. Look at him. We've been talking to him all day, and nothing. He's not in there anymore. Face it, he's gone!"

"No, he's not!" She cried fiercely.

"Enough," Bob told them. "No more shouting. PJ, let's go clean up your hand. Looks like you messed it up pretty good when you hit that wall."

Alone, Teddy squeezed her brother's hand and laid her head on his chest. "Don't you listen to them," she told him. "I know you can hear us, and you're still fighting. Mom will be able to be here soon, and Charlie is on her way, so we'll all be together. I promise."

*****GLC*****

Almost done! Two more chapters to go. Thank you all so much for sticking with it. I'm trying to figure out how to put a link to YouTube for the song, but I'm not very good with computers. Until then, if anyone wants to hear it and look it up on your own, the best version is the one by the Smothers Brothers.

A little reminder: the lyrics to "Down in the Valley" are in the public domain.