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Show S3f My father was unusually quiet, leaving most of the conversation to my mother. She spoke effusively, expressing her excitement over my graduation from college and the promise of a teaching job. i n t e n t ly My father stared^at" the walls, as though trying to see beyond the coat of p a i n t . I wondered what he was thinking - about Saul's l e t t e r s , about me and Brian? Perhaps he saw and the spiritual stains of rapeAincest on the wallpaper beneath the fresh white p a i n t . Perhaps he was t r y i n g to assess the atmosphere in which I would r a i s e my child. I tried to get him to taJ^k. , t r i e d to r e - e s t a b l i s h the easy, teasing r e l a t i o n s h i p we had enjoyed so long ago. At one point, he sneezed - perhaps i t was the cayenne pepper -- and as always, his sneeze shook the windows and echoed off the walls. "Excuse me, dear," he said, looking up at me. Wfti lAshocked and vaguely hurt. I had never heard him apologize for sneezing. "That's all right, Daddy. A man under as much Pressure as you are has to let it off somehow. I'm glad you sneeze." He smiled tightly and said nothing. I thought of the smile and the apology for sneezing. It was as though he was afraid to express pleasure, as though his smiles were really meant t° be grimaces. I didn't know how to get him to talk about anything within his interest. I was no good at punning ~ having been overlooked at this bequest. The only other thing I knew he enjoyed was talking about the Gospel, and 1 was in no way prepared to discuss it in the way our relationship demanded: me asking the questions and he giving |