Al laughed. How strange, I thought. Dad loved Al, but when he died, Al laughed. Perhaps men are just animals, really, not people like us.
When Dad was dead, I saw Al more often. I didn't like him much, but he was my only family. Sometimes we went swimming together with the kids, or out for a pizza. John didn't like me to talk to other men, but Al was OK, because he was my brother.
When Al was eighteen, he began a rock band, “Wild Boys”. He sang, and played guitar. At first they played in small restaurants, and then they made a record. Lots of people bought it. The band began to play in front of thousands of people. They made three more records, and travelled all over the world. It was wonderful. By the time he was twenty, my little brother Al was famous, and rich.