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Show in my father's house/ 253 God at all. They think He's just an idea men made up out of fear." I rubbed damp palms against my blue-jeaned knees. "Do you think that's true?" "I don't know...I don't think so. I believe in God. But I'm not sure why, Jeannie. I've asked myself a lot of questions. I don't even know if I'll ever get married." I gasped. "Not get married! Oh, Saul that would be terrible. If you don't get married, you'll be damned!" Saul smiled slowly. "Well, some people think marriage is a kind of damnation. Don't worry about me, little sister." And he tousled my hair as he left the room. In my new school, I found a friend. We shared our names and our birthdays - both called Jeannie and born within a week of each other. We shared secrets, too: I told Jeanne everything I dared without coming right out and stating that my father was a polygamist. I opened my heart and poured out the thoughts brooding there - about people, life, death, and dreams. We compared our bodies and our relationships with our brothers, and discussed the peculiar character of the human male. At last I knew what it meant to have a 'best friend.' Jeanne's mother fed us homemade banana bread and peanut brittle (Christmas treats in our household!) and indulged overnight visits and long walks. But she asked questions about my father. Why, in all her visits to my house, had Jeanne never met him? What did he do for a living? Traveling - what an awful way to survive! Didn't my mother get lonesome for him during the weeks he was away? Another sensitive point was my burgeoning |