Free Not Without My Sister by Kristina Jones, Celeste Jones, Juliana Buhring Page A

would be just Dad and me again together, but instead Marianne told me,

"You'll be staying with Michael and Patience in their room." "But why can't I stay with Dad?" I pleaded.
    "You'd be better off with Patience, who can take care of you properly."

I resented this change. Patience was the last person I wanted to live with and I was frightened of being separated from my father, who was my only protection. But we were kept apart and I only saw him once a week, when we went to visit Serena and the girls for our Freeday.

On one Freeday, Dad and I watched a video compilation of the
Benny Hill Show
. In one scene Benny Hill was a news presenter and he did a play on the phrase, "Fish and chips."
"Ummm, fish and chips!" Dad moaned, licking his lips. "Fish and chips wrapped in newspaper with vinegar. It's the only thing I miss from England."

"Yuck!" I exclaimed. "Dad, newspaper is dirty. All that ink comes off on your hands."

He smiled and shook his head. "It adds to the flavour. One day, we'll go to England and I'll buy you English fish and chips," he promised.

It was the first time I heard Dad reminisce or say anything positive about England. Mo often ranted against America and the West as "cesspools of iniquity" and Dad believed that God would soon judge England for their "rejection of God's children."

Every word Mo said was taken so seriously, even down to his likes and dislikes. One of my jobs was to set the table for dinner, and one day I was instructed to lay spoons instead of forks and knives. After the meal, I asked Dad why.

"Well, Grandpa said that all you need is a spoon." He went on to demonstrate. "You can scoop things up with it, and use the edge to cut. You really don't need forks. The food just falls through anyway."

"But I like forks," I replied.

I thought it was ridiculous. We could not use black pepper, women could not wear jeans, and men replaced their briefs for boxer shorts, just because Mo expressed his dislike for them. Fruits and vegetables had to be soaked in salt water for twenty minutes--which made them taste awful; salt was supposed to kill the germs. Mo always boasted how frugal he was--his childhood in the Great Depression of the 1930s had left a mark on him. He could take a shower in a bowl of water, he saved stamps, and always made the most of a napkin, by first using it to wipe his mouth, then clean his glasses, then blow his nose, then finally to wipe his bottom.

Ewww, I thought when I read that.
How gross
.

He also declared that three sheets of toilet paper were all that you needed for a bowel movement. This became a Family rule. We were always threatened with the Scripture, "The eyes of the Lord are in every place, beholding the evil and the good," and I did my hardest to fold carefully those three sheets to maximize their use. I was convinced that Jesus was there in the toilet with me, watching to make sure I didn't use more than I was allowed. At this time I started to suspect that Mo lived nearby. His location was supposed to be top secret but I noticed that Paul Peloquin and Marianne often disappeared for a few days only to return with new rules, projects and "news from Grandpa." Paul talked often about Mo's household and would introduce new rules that he had picked up from his visits to their Home.
    One evening, he announced during a meeting, "I want everyone to write down in order of preference who you would like to be on the date schedule with. You won't be guaranteed that you'll get the person you asked for, so put down your first, second, and third choices." While the adults were given a choice, Paul arbitrarily decided my and Armi's date schedule. We had to have a date--sex in other words--with both Patrick and Nicki, twelve and nine years old, once a week.
When Nicki and I were five years old at the campsite, I remember fooling around with him and mimicking sex like we had seen the adults do, and it was fun. I liked him. But being forced on to a schedule where I had to perform