"Naw, not a bit, Dicky, and then he got ta slappin' her across the face, too, then he'd punch her up some more and then put a piller ‘cross her face'n press down fer, like, a
"Fuck, yeah. Must'a been what he was doin', I'd say."
"Uh-hmm, so's this voice in my head tells me ta run back to the house'n call the poe-leece'n tell 'em Mrs. Houser's bein' raped."
"Did the cops catch the black fella?" Dicky asked.
Balls paused, ruminating. "Naw, 'cos, see, I never called 'em. Just as I were about to run home, this
"Shee-it, Balls!"
"I know, man. That's low-down, but that's what I did. I stayed at that winder'n watched this guy fuck Mrs. Houser
Some silence stretched by, then Dicky blinked through something like dread and asked, "Balls, what happened next? Did that big player kill her?"
"Nope, but that's what I thought shore were gonna happen next. But ya know what he did instead? Shee-it. He untied her'n took off the gag, and then she gives him a big sloppy kiss'n says, ‘Oh, baby, that was great! I love you so much!'"
"Well I'se'll just shake the shit out my drawers!" Dicky honked laughter. "So's she were one'a them
"Guess so," Balls assumed. "The whole time, the joke was on me. Shee-it, I thought he was
"Must'a been," Dicky concluded.
Balls shook his head. "I turn around to go back home but that big black fella's standin'
"What'cha... what'cha do, Balls?"
"Tried ta run, a'course, but that guy's hand landed in my hair and yanked me back like I was on a tow-line. He chicken wings me, see, holdin' me a dang foot off the ground, I'se swear, and he says, ‘Just you watch, white boy,' so's I look and I see Mrs. Houser on her knees at the winder, and ya know what she's doin'? She's lickin' my fresh nut right off the shingles beneath the sill."
"Aw, man! That's some groaty shit!"
"Shore is, and once she's done eatin' all my load, she come over all grinnin' and she pulls down my drawers'n starts playin' with my peter whiles she's sayin' ‘This little shit'n his friend've been beatin' their little-boy dicks at my window for a coupla years, they have, the dirty little fuckers,' and then she starts
"Bet'cha were, Balls... "
"—I'm all cryin' and shakin' and fuckin' terrified, but ya know what? And it's the strangest part of all, but even in spite'a bein'
"Shee-it, man, ya'd think it'd be limp as a dead man's dick—"
"Yeah, that's what ya'd
"And-and... what 'bout that black fella?" Dicky asked. "Did he snap yer neck?"
Balls frowned. "No, ya A-hole! If he'd snapped my neck, I wouldn't be sittin' here tellin' ya the story, would I?"
"Uh, oh. No," Dicky said.