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Show in my father's house/ 211 "What will Daddy say?" I asked. He had never told my brothers not to hunt, but anyone could tell how he felt. I didn't want any more distance between them. It was hard enough, loving all of them and feeling the earth split so that I had to stretch to reach in both directions. Jake and Danny shrugged simultaneously. "What can he say?" Jake asked. "We did what we had to do." Danny told me how Saul had been walking back to the car and stopped to tie his bootlace, propping the gun against his shoulder. Thaihe stood up, the gun bounding against his chest so that it went off. "Damn bootlace," Danny said, snuffling. "The safety on that thing never was any good," Jake muttered. Always had a hair-trigger." I thought of hair-triggered rifles and Saul's temper as I walked back to the shanty to check on the children and to pray until the afternoon was over and I could go home. My father came a3 quickly as he could, arriving in the evening to see Saul as soon as he was out of surgery. Even though he didn't dare remove the dressing, knowing the doctors would object, he promised Saul that he would live. "The Lord has an important work for you to do," he promised. "It isn't your time, yet, son." My father's statements had taken on an authoritative air. People in our group were calling him a prophet, asking his advice on every little thing. I don't know whether Saul believed what he said but I did. I couldn't bring myself to believe otherwise. Saul's life was saved by a hairbreadth, the surgeons claimed. We lingered together, expressing our gratitude that the Lord had |