Why, I graduated from college still a virgin, at least I thought I was. My mother and her husband had "hit that" when I was eight. I was a virgin not because I could not attract men. I attracted many men daily. I just didn't know what to do when in close contact. I would freeze up. I would get so nervous my hands would shake. I would tremble. I now know my body remembered what my brain would not.
That old Mathy Jane was my mother. Not just another old "yalla" whore either. My mother was a self styled witch, a "root worker", a conjurer, a soothe sayer. A good one too. Why, she had a pet nigger. He was a soldier sixteen years her junior, the same age as her oldest son.
He hated her but he was captured, caught like an animal in a trap. He turned out to be her fourth legal husband after living with her for over thirty years. Martha told every one this man was just a "boarder". When the church members got too nosey, always in her business , she made him her brother. Lied and said her father adopted him.
Well, for some reason when he got old he finally married her. It was "roots", old fashioned conjure, dirt off of a grave. We all knew and we all laughed , still never believing she would "root" us. Poor Lamb never had any money, never had a house, never had anything but the opportunity to be Martha's foot stool. He worked every day and every payday he was glad to hand over his check. Brilliant Martha let him keep part of it, the part he had to pay the bills will.
Martha was addicted to gambling and she only had one problem, losing. She lost way more than she ever won but the thrill of those "Slots" made her young again. Therefore Mathy could not afford to take those "roots" off of him. So as far as I know he is still wasting away, sitting in the dark, eating his food off of a wooden plank. Does he know he is rooted? I'm sure he does but, he too sang Mathy's song.
"You can't win for the fix you in, I can't lose for the stuff I use." So, he is a zombie, still her slave. Yes, I do pray for him. There can be nothing worse than being in love with a woman you hate. A woman that flat took your balls, all your money, deliberately whored around on you and laughed in your face.
Don't cry yet. I have five brothers in the exact same boat, in love with a bitch they hate and she's dead! They hate me also, partially because she taught them to and because I can't lie and cloak for her. Yes, I hate her guts! I'm working on it. Pray for me but, sixty-two years of her covert clandestine torture has left me with sever chronic PTSD. I know I have issues and will not lie, I'm as mad as a muthafucker! All those years of listening to that whore, being led astray by her because I feared her.
Jesus told us to "Fear no man." I should have listened. All I can do now is warn others.
"Come ye out from among them."
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