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LeBaron sister who was a member of the church, stood behind the pulpit, her play manual open before her. She stopped speaking and waited until we took our seats. She looked hot and uncomfortable in her flowered polyester dress. Her graying hair curled moist around her neck.
    She glowered at us. “As I was saying, if you want to have an active part in the play, you will make an effort to be on time at the practices. Now, our operetta this year is called Welcome to Gay Havana ,” Esther rattled on and on.
    My sister Fara, sitting on a rear bench, raised her eyebrows at me and darted a look at Lane. Franny glared disapproval as she scooted over to make room for us. “What are you doing?” she growled into my ear. “I thought you were breaking up with him!”
    â€œShh! I’ll tell you later.” I glanced at Esther. She looked up at us, briefly hesitated, and then continued outlining the play.
    Few people in the colony had tried harder than Esther Spencer had to bring a touch of culture to our pioneer-type existence. She had made up her mind years ago, when the church was first started, that the young people of the colony wouldn’t be deprived of whatever refinement she could teach them. She organized plays, piano concerts and talent shows for us to participate in, giving us something special to perform during our church’s semiannual conferences, something to show the visiting investigators of the church that just because we lived in Mexico and practiced polygamy, we weren’t ignorant or illiterate.
    â€œLet’s give the adults something to smile at!” Esther said in conclusion. “And during these hours together in practice, let’s have some good, clean fun!”
    Lane rolled his eyes, his face a mask of seriousness. Franny suppressed a giggle. Esther was staring pointedly at the left end of the first bench where a girl named Debbie Bateman sat. Fresh from California, Debbie’s legs were crossed, giving a full view of her thighs. Her short, tight skirt rode high on her hips. The huge wad of gum in her mouth popped and cracked as she watched Esther. Gossip had it that Debbie’s parents had accepted Ervil LeBaron’s offer to bring her to the colony, the plan being to get her away from her wild friends in California. And Esther, who took a maternal interest in all of us, was afraid that Debbie’s foul mouth and worldly experience would be a bad influence. Debbie was well aware that Esther, as a charter member of the church and a sister of the Prophet Joel, considered herself an authority on spiritual matters. So the new girl made a point of annoying her at every opportunity. With Debbie here, I knew that play practices would become interesting, indeed.
    Jay and Carmela sat close together on a rear bench, paying little attention to the rest of us. I could sense the strain between them, and Francisca noticed it too. “Are they just going to let that mean old Alma dictate to them?” she whispered. “He’s not her real father. How can he order her not to marry Jay?”
    I shrugged and sighed. I had enough problems of my own to worry about at the present.
    â€œDo you suppose Esther will tell Alma that they’re sitting together?” Franny breathed into my ear.
    â€œOh, my Lord, I hope not!” I glanced at Esther. Being Alma’s sister, she was no doubt aware of the situation. Didn’t Jay and Carmela have enough sense to be discreet if they were going to disobey Alma’s orders? I would have to talk to Jay when we got home, make him see he was being foolish.
    As we walked out into the sunlight, I turned to Debbie and whispered, “Don’t let Esther upset you, okay? She’s old fashioned and not used to someone from the states.”
    â€œDon’t worry about it,” she said, shrugging. She glanced over at Lane. “So. You and Lane back to makin’ it?”
    I stared at her in confusion. Debbie