”“Those were Mexicans in the car that tried to kill you.”“I figured someone got to them before I had a chance to meet with them. They didn’t...want to talk to me.”“Do you want a beer?”“No.”David gestured to the refrigerator. One of the guys opened it and took out a beer. He tossed the can. David caught it, popped the top, and took a sip.“I’ll tell you honestly, we’ve busted up our fair share of niggers.”Martin grimaced at the language, but didn’t respond to it. This was one of the most hardcore. All I wanted to do now was to go backhome, but I knew that nothing I could say would convince my mother to changethe routine. I could resign from my job by simply phoning the office, butthat wouldn't please her at all. The following morning, just like every timethus far, she would make sure I was dressed up properly. Sometimes I'd weara dress, sometimes a blouse and skirt, sometimes she'd even let me choosemyself which clothes I would wear for the humiliation that awaited me,though she always. More

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