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Show in my tatner's house/ 268 duplex, so why couldn't I at least choose the apartment I wanted?" My father stomped around the kitchen like a nervous stallion about to be bridled. "It is amazing to me that people have so little concern for others. I need Helga in the office. I must have her help. Can't you see that?" My mother nodded, but she was quietly insistent. "You know I don't like to make trouble but it isn't fair, Rulon." He complained about my brothers, their reluctance to contribute to the family good. He listed his debts and obligations. He spoke of his troubles with the Healing Arts Committee, his fear of state interference in his practice, and his problems with group-members. My mother listened quietly without retracting her stand. Finally he sighed and put his arms around her. "Keep this apartment, please. I'll buy new carpeting, if it'll make you happy." She relented. Soon she returned to her truer character, studying the brighter side of things. "The wood of my cabinets is much nicer than Helga's," she confided to me. "And I'm glad I don't have to contend with those neighbors." Meanwhile, the friction between Saul and my father increased. There was the old argument about money, for my father wanted Saul and the other boys to pay all my mother's expenses beyond the mortgage payment. "I'll never be able to finish college if I have to do that," Saul countered. Saul knew that my father sank most of his money into his ranch dream. It was not a dream they shared. But my father had no patience with Saul's plaints. "That university has only taught you in the ways of the Devil, not the |