'Do ladies always have such a hard time having babies?' Nick asked. 'No, that was very, very exceptional.' 'Why did he kill himself, Daddy?' 'I don't know, Nick. He couldn't stand things I guess.' 'Do many men kill themselves, Daddy?' 'Not very many, Nick.' 'Do many women?' 'Hardly ever.' 'Don't they ever?' 'Oh, yes. They do sometimes.' 'Daddy?' 'Yes.' 'Where did Uncle George go?' 'He'll turn up all right.' 'Is dying hard, Daddy?' 'No, I think it's pretty easy, Nick. It all depends.' They were seated in the boat, Nick at the stern, his father rowing. The sun was coming up over the hills. A bass jumped, making a circle in the water. Nick trailed his hand in the water. It felt warm in the sharp chill of the morning. In the early morning on the lake sitting in the stern of the boat with his father rowing, he felt quite sure that ge would never die. full stop. the simplicity of life and death.