Crawford Allen, Mississippi Negro, lay sick abed in his shanty just across the Louisiana line. It was night and his wife Anna slept deeply beside him. Nearby slept his three pickaninnies, Teelie, Lewis, Myra. None of the Aliens had any clothes on; it was August, hot. . . .
Two white men came in, flashed lights, grinned, shouted. At the point of a gun they shuffled the Aliens into an automobile with only a towel more or less to cover their nakedness. Before dawn, white faces and black bodies were in Louisiana. White...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
