One day, from his hidey place inside a bottle, Buford – hadn’t called him Daddy since that day – told me he ain’t my daddy, went after my mama ‘cause she was eager to bed ‘n wed, what with you runnin’ aroun’ ‘n startin’ to sass like a five year old does, livin’ with a brother out Muleshoe way, carin’ fer his young’uns and fightin’ him off, the brother, his wife tired ‘n ‘bout to birth another. Yeah, I heard the story and had to confront Mama, to hear from her why Buford played nice with me until a brother and sisters came along, then the hate began -- the You leave them kids alone! Go get my strap you’n nuthin’ ta me! It’s me or him, Sheila Lou! Long days of punishment for something I’d no part in, long nights of crying and planning. Punishing me for being sired by a man that wasn’t him, l
