Her horror and fascination with his size. His power, his hands, feet, mouth, dick, all that stuff that carried her across the door of that little frame-house on T Street and kept her there until her neck snapped. That’s part of it. I have to tell you that part so you’ll believe she stayed. I can’t believe it and I was there. Katherine Louise Wheeler, Baby Kate, my niece, the daughter of a famous author and a Delta beauty. ‘Cat’, he called her, and ‘Baby, Baby’, all the time when they were doing it. They were always doing it.
‘Wait till you meet him,’ she said. ‘And you will understand.’
‘All right. Bring him by.’