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Show 3^7 "Uh...we've had some trouble with Jeannie. She tried to take some things from the store. It's all right, Mom. I'll handle it. No, she doesn't have to go to jail. She's a minor. It'll be all right. Don't cry. We have to take her in for some counseling in the next few days. We'll be home in a little while." I can't remember what happened after I got into the car with Saul - it is one of the two or three blank spaces in my memory, the place so dark and incomprehensible that I cannot summon an account of what was said or where we went, or how I made it through the turbulent darkness into the next day. I worried all through the holidays that the 'youth counselor' would ask questions about my family. I was prepared to tell him the truth, if I had to. I didn't know how else to explain what I had done if he asked. But the 'counseling' was a quick session with a retired police officer wherein my hands were verbally slapped. No questions were asked about my father or the rest of the family. I wondered briefly if my mother would tell my father about the shoplifting. One evening, during supper, he began to speak. "I was in prison twice, with the worst sort of people in the world," he said to no one in particular. "It is no place to be. The men are vile - with the worst sort of thoughts and language - and no respect for life. It is no place to be." He bit into his roll and s^aid nothing more. He didn't look at me, not once, for the rest of the evening. |