Monday, December 14, 2015

"They'd shoot me? Like an assassination?"


Sarah's mind slips wistful into the past, to that One Hot Summer in 1957 in Madison County...

"Miss Sarah, I've been a-thinking..."

"Yes, my sweet Mandingo?"

"What if I was to run for Mayor of our town?"

"That's funny, my Mandingo."

"Why is it funny? I didn't means it to be funny."

"It's funny because you are a Negro, silly."

"But I runs the Junkyard real fine, and I bet I could do the same for the Town if I was just given the chance..."

"Well, to begin with, Negroes are not allowed in Town after dark, so that would limit your ability as Mayor, right there."

"I bet I could gets everything done during the daylight, Miss Sarah."

"No, my dear Mandingo: the Real Governing doesn't happen until the Nighttime when the Bigwigs go off and smoke their cigars, let down their suspenders and get drunk."

"Maybe they'd change the Law for me, being Mayor and all."

"I don't think there's a chance of that happening in a million years, my Love: Negroes will always be meant to go home after dark. It is just the way it is: Negroes are hard to see at night, because they are black and all, and usually up to No Good..."

"I guess so..."

"Plus, politicians have to shake hands -- they have to shake a LOT of hands."

"I can shake hands, Miss Sarah."

"Oh, my silly Mandingo: most townsfolk would rather shoot you than shake hands with you, you being a Negro. You understand?"

"They'd shoot me? Like an assassination?"

"Oh, Mandingo: assassinations are for Important White People. You can't assassinate a Negro, it's like saying someone assassinated the chicken for dinner."

"It's a hard world here for a Negro."

"Try being a white woman, having to find Just the Right Dress to wear to the Mayor's Gala Ball..."

I am Laslo.



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