“He told me something, Cathy. He’s decided he wants to be a minister.” Pain and sorrow were in her voice, and I didn’t understand at all. “Don’t you want to be a minister’s wife?” I asked, while I was so frightened underneath. She seemed so remote. “Ministers expect people to be perfect,” she said in that deadly, scary tone, “especially their wives. I remember all the things the grandmother used to say about us. About us being Devil’s issue and evil and sinful.
