Sarah's mind once again slipped wistfully into the past, to that One Hot Summer in 1957 in Madison County...
"Miss Sarah, I has a question..."
"Yes, my sweet Mandingo?"
"Why do white men keep wanting to look at my genitals?"
"What?"
"Genitals. You know, my cock."
"I know what genitals are, my Mandingo. What happened?"
"There was a burglary in town so the Police came to my shack, and asked to look at my genitals."
"Why would they do such a thing?"
"That's what I asked them, Miss Sarah. They said you can often tell if a Negro has committed a crime by looking at his genitals."
"Well, maybe they can. Science is coming up with amazing things."
"I don't think so, Miss Sarah. I'm thinking they just wanted to look at my cock."
"Well, many people believe that the Negro possesses a much larger manhood than the average white person."
"Is that true, Miss Sarah? I mean, you've seen my coc-- my manhood."
"I'm a respectable white woman, my dear Mandingo: I have not seen the manhood of many men -- even white ones."
"Surely you've seen one."
"Well, there was Ben Brady..."
"Ben who works out at the lumber mill?"
"Yes, my Mandingo. We were young, just being foolish like the young often are, and he showed me his shlong."
"His what?"
"HIs manhood. He called his manhood his schlong. I think he might be part Jewish."
"So you have seen one!"
"Yes, my Mandingo. And it was much smaller than yours, but it may have grown bigger since then."
"Have there been any others, Miss Sarah?"
"Well..."
"Do tell, Miss Sarah! Do tell!"
"There was a time when I was little with my Uncle Paul, but I don't like to talk about it."
"Oh my."
"Needless to say, my Mandingo, I never got the pony I was promised..."
I am Laslo.
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