This story is based on the language and customs of the mid 19th Century in the USA.

Widder Jenkins.

Jarvis wasn’t doin nothin. He was just riding into town from the East when Sheriff Wade spotted him.

“Hey you!” Wade shouted, “Come here boy.”

Jarvis didn’t like being called “Boy”, it was better than bein called a nigga but not a heap. He reined his horse in.

“What?” Jarvis asked.

“You come here, you rode past the Widder Johnsons place?” Wade enquired.

“How in the hell should I know?” he asked.

“There’s a fifty foot windmill and a sign saying Goldern Herd Catle Ranch,” Wade explained, “ceptin it aint spelled too good.”

“Sure,” Jarvis admitted.

“Then your under arrest boy,” Wade explained.

“What in the hell for?” Jarvis demanded.

“Bein a nigga mainly,” Wade said sadly, “But for your own protection really, anyway its a free supper and a free bed for the night.”

“What you mean own protection?” Jarvis asked.

“Last nigga we had got his self lynched,” Wade explained, “Raped widder Johnson, three times or so she said, damn lucky to escape alive.”

“I never raped no one.” Jarvis protested.

“Neither did the other guy,” Wade added, “Much to widder Johnson’s disappointment, anyways she’s more like than not to make out she bin raped so come round the jail house. You’ll be safe there.”

Jarvis saw the sense of a free meal and a bed for the night and as he weren’t in no mood for a shoot out and his horse was about done in he did as he was bid.

Wade filled in some paper work, “Name?”

“Jarvis,”

“First name,”

“Jarvis,”

Wade gave up, last nigga was called Umozulu or some such and he didn’t have a single clue as to how to spell that.

They put the horses in the jail house stables and he and the sheriff had a meal of beans and right about nine thirty widder Johnson was beating on the door.

“Sheriff I bin raped again, big buck black guy hung like a donkey done fucked me every which way.” she shouted.

Wade motioned Jarvis to keep quiet.

“When was this,” he asked as he went to let her in.

“Why a half hour since, just after I finished up the milking.” she declared.

“Big buck nigga on a brown stallion?” Wade enquired.

“Yeah, sure!” Widder Johnson agreed.

”This him?” Wade asked as he showed the widder in, “I already arrested him”

“That’s him!” she cried delightedly.

“I arrested him before supper, why he’s been here for nigh on two hours.” Wade continued.

“Oh!” says the Widder.

Wade continued, “Thing is Miss Johnson, you never been raped, you just dream some big buck nigga come and fucked you every which way and when one passes by and don’t do it you gets uppity and makes out he fucked you.”

“I never been so insulted!” the widder gasped, “I been fucked I tell yer!”

“Yeah whatever,” Wade agreed, “You boy, you guard her, shoot her if you have to, I’m off to get the Doc.” Suddenly it made sense to Jarvis why the sheriff hadn’t even tried to take his guns off of him.

Wade headed off. Jarvis watched Widder Jenkins. She had nice big tits, shame about the big fat belly.