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2.

The Deputy stops the car in a lurch! We's all throwed forward, lurch back ag'in the seat.

He hops out, like in a hurry, leaves his door standin' open. Keys in the ignition swing, clink on the column, get my attention. He goes around the front of the car, wavin' to Miz Furche.

The Sheriff opens his door, struggle to get his left foot to come to enough to get it out, reach with both hands under his leg to lift it out, spin his big self out and use his hands up top of the door to pull hisself up and out. I hear him either grunt or pass gas.

God make him leave the door standin' open. I'm gettin' to be a prayin' man! He does.

Deputy next to me got the door open, gets out, standin' close, holds that shotgun by the barrel, then start walkin' with it like a cane, lift it up, set it down, goin' down to Miz Furche.

Driver Deputy gettin' there ahead of him says, "Hey Mamaw!"

'Hey... Mamaw!'

They's kin!

The Sheriff come behind the car, get on the sidewalk, waddles slow down there, scratch his ass with his right hand, seat of his pants saggin' low, take his hat off with his left hand, reach, shake her hand with his ass-scratchin' hand. They stand talkin'.

Gramaw Mamaw's boy of a sudden come at a run, open the right front door, get out my walkin' stick, barely look at me, go at a run back.

He rolls the stick over in his hands. I guess they lookin' at it. She reaches, touches it, touch the twisted knurl near the top, that white cap. She take it, raise her arms with it in one hand, push her hands up in the air two, three, four times. She give it back to Mamaw's boy and they all turn... and look... at me.

I sit, all the doors standin' open now, lookin' back at them. Don't nobody come an' ask me nothin'. They go on talkin', look at each other, out at me. I finally look away. Don't pay to look at white folk too long. They think they know what you thinkin'.

I see those keys in the ignition.

Finally Sheriff shakes her hand again. She step back, up on first step, cross her arms. He come waddlin', Deputy behind with shotgun. Mamaw Boy walkin' backwards, wavin' at her, turn and come, put my stick in, close the front door same time Deputy come in the back with that shotgun.

Mamaw Boy get around to de front to drive same time Sheriff turn his big ass to plop in. Mamaw Boy in, start the car. Sheriff havin' trouble with his big legs again, lean back against me, big hogleg pokin' my thigh. He in, door close, not quite, open again, slam. We goin'. We goin'.

The road goes by slow. They ain't in no hurry. I see folk along the road, sittin' on porches, walkin'. Everybody stop and look at the Sheriff car. I don't want to let these people know these other people friendly of mine. Don't wanna bring my trouble on nobody. I hope... I hope some of them see me though, there in the back, no hat, Sheriff and two Deputies. Maybe somebody do... somethin'. But I cain't count on it. Do what? I don't know. Do what? I'm on my own in here. I.. stand accused.