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Show 12 He raced over to the Farrel's, who were selling the house and moving to Houston, but when he got there he couldn't find anything to say. "Wh-wh-what . . . " stumbled Funster to Farrel. "I can't do a damn thing about it," Farrel said, rubbing his forehead. "There's all kind of laws now. Besides, they got all the money they need. If they want it, they get it." Funster knew it might happen, xi If it didn't happen at Farrel's it was going to happen someplace else, xxaxx There were already four families down on 23rd St. and when he drove by the old Greek Orthodox Church the xix other day he saw the xxx FOR SALE sign was down. Somebody said maybe the Boys Club bought it, but that wouldn't be much better, he knew the difference between the xx" 'Y' and the Boys Club. Besides, two houses down Mrs. Flossie was in her eighties and two houses further the Baggerts were in there seventies, and so were Sixxxxxxxxxxxxx next to Rg&ftsxxaxxxM^xxxltirycMxxxxxaxxxxxxxxxxxx Red's. Mrs. Wheedle»s husband just died and she and her fifty year old retarded daughter weren't gxxxi going to last that much longer either. No, all he could do was hope they were different. Maybe they'd be Catholic, though Jinx had already spoiled that. Jinx rubbed his xxxx gigantic chin with his gigantic hand and said, "No fucking way. If he's dribblin a basketball, he aint Catholic. I deliver xxx potato chips to that little Sxixxixx Black Catholic x Parish down by the xxy Bay. They can't play basketball. The Baptists play basketball." Well Jinx knew that stuff. He got all around xx xxxx town in that Buckhorn Potato Chip Truck with the deer on the side, But it wouldn't matter if they were xx a good family or not. Funster knew it wouldn't matter. Last month at the GE plant he'd got a black on his work crew and that xxi guy wasn't a bad Joe either. He worked pretty hard. And Funster tried real hard to be fair to him to. He practiced for days saying xxxxx 'negro', just in case the fellow's race came up, but when it did he got corrected. "It aint negro no more," the man said to him. "It's black." And even though he went right back to work, Funster wondered where he got off telling his foreman how he could be addressed. Funster remembered when his own foreman would kick him in the ass for the slightest lip. Now niggers were telling him how to talk. So it didn't matter. They were all uppity, and even if the first...oiiCT wore-good»-o-vell, they had to be, but if one came, then |