“Dear,” she said, “you really need to come to church more often.”“I only get one real day off,” I reminded her, but half-heartedly. She was right. I did need to go to church more often. Church wasn’t just the religious thing to do. It was where everyone in town congregates at least once a week to gossip about their neighbors. It’s a great way to keep your finger on the town’s pulse. “What did I miss at the chit-chat meeting this week?”“At the next town council meeting, Ruth Campbell plans to introduce a proposal to…” I heard Aunt Marge draw a calming breath, and exhale in a way that told me she was counting on her years of yoga to keep her blood pressure down. “To ban non-natives from holding jobs in Crazy.”I had to pull over. I just had to. I needed to thump my head on the headrest of my seat. “You can’t be serious. She can’t be serious.”“You know how she is,” said Aunt Marge diplomatically.“Yes, I do. She’s a damn racist bitch,” I shot back.
