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Show in my father's house/ 208 felon." He sucked his teeth. "They don't care that the U.S. Supreme Court would have overturned our sentences if we hadn't already served them. No. They're, just worried about their own hides. The pressure's on from the medical men. They just can't stand the competition of osteopaths and naturopaths and chiro-practers. Means they might lose a few patients and a few dollars here and there." His biting edge of sarcasm pointed up his fatigue and frustration. "If I can just keep it alive 'till this wave passes over us...." He shook his head again and my mother came to him, rubbing his neck and massaging his scalp. "If I didn't have all this traveling to do," he added. "I'll be grateful when that rat-race is over. I haven't nearly enough time for my priesthood duties as it is. And we know the Lord's work comes first." He told of the growth of our fundamentalist group from one to two thousand in the years we had been away. My mother nodded. "You'll just have to cut something else out." But her face looked pinched and worried, as though she thought she might be the something else cut. "Right," my father said. "That's why I've decided to move Rachel and Elsa to Wells." He named the gambling village sixty miles away. "Oh no!" My mother clapped a hand over her words. "But Rulon...do you think it's wise? Wells is such a small place, and you know how Nevada is, with inter-town sports and all - people would find us out in no time." My father didn't respond for a moment. Then, rubbing his forehead, he spoke. "I just don't know what else to do." |