|Posted on September 7, 2010 at 3:33 PM|
Mother said they lived on the other side of the tracks because that's where the poor people lived, and besides, they was colored. I used to go down near the tracks and look at the shanties and lean-to's.
But, then later, I noticed that over in the center of town all the rich, white folks had huge, fancy houses. I knew we weren't rich, and the colored's were definately poor, so we must be kind of in-between. When I ask mom about it she said we were getting by, and not to worry about it. I asked dad too, and he said we were keeping our heads above water.
Then one night I had this dream that the coloreds came over the tracks and snuck into my bedroom. They held me down and cut my buttocks off, and ran back across the tracks to fry up some fresh white buttocks. I had that dream for years, and every time I would wake up in the morning and the first thing I'd do is reach for my butt, and then let out a big sigh of relief that I had made it another night.
Years later, I had a baseball game down by the tracks, and I noticed a bunch of the coloreds were watching us real close. They had a barrel with a wire grill on top of it, and they were warming their hands over it. Towards the end of that game I saw some of them cooking something on that grill, turning it over and over. The smell of that cooked meat was wafting over the outfield, and I was getting a real strong whiff of it. It smelled really good, but I couldn't wait for that game to end so I could high-tail it home.
I still have that dream now and then, but now when I wake up I reach for my butt, and then laugh out loud. Also, when I go near railroad tracks I often smell meat cooking.