Bufford looked away from the bobbing head to his brother. “Clyde, he’s a good old boy.”The police chief shifted in the cushy chair, crushed his ...mpty beer can, and, with a flick of his wrist, hurled it at the black woman. It bounced off her back and clattered on the floor. She flinched.“You don’t know him from Adam,” the police chief said.“I’ve been watching him. He’s one of us.”“He’s not from around here. And he ain’t related so he’s not one of us.”“He treats niggers like dirt.”The black woman. Had circumstances been different, and if the male appendage had been that of a lover, Libby would have felt little spikes of pleasure shooting up to her sex, but, for now, she was concentrating so intensely on making Jack’s buttocks as red and sore as possible, that any feelings of excitement were lost for the moment.Her hand rose and fell dozens of times and Jack had begun howling, first in protest and then in agony. Apparently his penis was on a different sensual circuit and was oblivious to. More

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