Daddy held that big bible open, stained from it's interactions with four generations of McClouds. Daddy asks son to close his eyes and put a finger onto the book and to hold it there. Trembling with terror , the boy does so. "Genesis 43:22:" , His dad says with that sadistic look of power in his eyes. Son wishes he was somewhere else, somewhen else. "We also have additional money to buy more grain" , Dad reads and stops. "Now finish it" , he commands, a glistening residue of cruelty shines in dad's eyes. " Thank the Lord for this blessing" , The boy says in a quavoring fearfull voice. Dad slams the book closed on son's hand , son crys out in pain, then forces himself not to cry, though he shakes with harsh sobs. Dad squeezes the book in his cologne smelling lap. Son grits teeth, feeling the crushing pressure on his bruised hand. " We have no idea how the money got into our sacks." , His father corrected as he withdrew the book, the holy book, the sacred, sacred book. Years later son finds out that the Father did not have the whole book memorized as claimed. He also found dad's hidden porn stash.