"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 bum," 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."