| OCR Text |
Show in my father's house/ 121 then, and she smiled. "Maybe my nervous problems are like the hiccups," she told Aunt Helga. "This scare might be just what I needed." As we neared Mexico, the mothers discussed the possibility of being intercepted at the national border. "If they ask any questions, let's just play dumb," my mother suggested. Aunt Helga, said nothing, her mouth drawn in a thin line. When we reached El Paso, Aunt Helga decided to go on and enter Mexico at Laredo. "Too many polygamists have already crossed at Ciudad Juarez. Besides, you remember how terrible those Mexican roads are, Hannah. We'll do better if we stay in the States as long as possible. I don't think I could go through an ordeal like last time." "Last time?" I whispered to my mother. Then I remembered vague references to Mexico. "Yes. We went there in 1946 --or was it '47 -- because your daddy was on parole and we only got to see him for a few hours on Saturday or Sunday. So when Dayer LeBaron wrote and told him to bring his families and live on the LeBaron ranch at Los Parceles, your daddy jumped at the chance even though he'd also have to jump parole. A few weeks later he telegraphed us to join him. We packed some clothes and bedding into Brother Jesperson's car -- that's Aunt LaVona's brother, remember. In those days, the group hadn't split and he promised to drive us |
