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Show in my father's house/ 143 "C'mere," he said, beckoning. His face was uneven, eyes and mouth out of balance, his head like a rough-hewn block of wood. "Jeannie!" My mother shrilled as she hurried to me. "Come inside now." She grabbed my hand and dragged me toward the house. "Mama, I want to watch," I pleaded, trying to pry her fin-gers loose from my hand. "No. They're not in their right minds." "I'll stay with Danny. Please let me watch." She sighed and let go of my hand. She was easily defeated these days. "Promise you won't go any closer. They're sick, and there's no telling what that Ben will do. I don't know why they let him out of the hospital." "Aren't they funny?" I whispered, clutching Danny's belt loop. "Shut up," Danny hissed. "What if they hear you?" But the two men had stretched out on the gravel and were doing push-ups. "Doesn't that hurt, the rocks grinding into their hands? Why are they doing that?" Danny shrugged. "To prove how strong they are. They want us to say they are heads of the Priesthood. But we know Daddy is the one." Soon, my father's car appeared in the lane. Once parked, he jumped out smiling with his hand outstretched halfway across |