Tarred and Feathered

First they grab me up by my neck and my arms, two on this side, two on that.  Straight away, they rip my shirt off my back.  A Sunday shirt too – ripped it to shreds.  Too many of them was hollerin ‘bout what I done.  Callin me coward this n’ that.  I tried to fight ‘em off, but they was on me like ants on a lump of sugar.  Throwed me all over the street.  Couple of them laid their knuckles right across the top o’ my head.

I lost a shoe in the ditch.  I was fightin like hell to keep my pants up, but eventually they rip those right off me too.  Next thing I know, my ears was ringin and I was stark naked, still gettin shoved this way n’ that.  I didn’t know where they was takin me.  It was a pack of dogs, I tell you.  Every one of ‘em frothin at the mouth, cheeks red as the devil’s ass. I was sure they was ‘bout ready to string me up for good.

One of ‘em run off and come back with a few buckets of tar.  Dumped that straight over my head.  Humiliation is what they was going for.  Men like that don’t give a hoot about laws, or personal rights.  Their problem was that I didn’t support their war.  That’s all it took.  Turn them into a mob of damn vermin.

People think tar will boil your skin right off your back.  That ain’t the truth of it though.  It don’t hurt you so much as they do, jerkin you all over town.  They was lookin to send a message.  It’s was humiliation they was after. 

Pine tar is what they gone and dumped on me.  Naked as the day I was born and covered in hot stinkin pine tar.  That’s the stuff they use for waterproofin boats n’ all of that.  In baseball, they’ll put a dab of that pine tar on the bat for grip.  That stuff dripped down through my hair into my eyes.  I was blind in a second.  It gets into you real nasty like.  They must have poured two or three buckets on me.  The ones holdin my arms and had the worst job out of the bunch.  I made sure to wriggle enough and press right up against them.  I wasn’t gonna be the only one lookin like a spittoon.

I was out of energy by then.  They were huffin right along with me, but it was at least fifteen of them, only one of me.  The best I could do was blink real hard and do everything I could to keep that stuff out of my eyes and mouth.  Worst part ‘bout it, I knew who all of them men was.  They was my neighbors, went to the same church, some of ‘em even pretend to be my friend before all of this go down. 

They got ahold of the feathers and hit me with them next.  Pushed me on the ground and rolled me in whatever was left.  The pine tar gets thicker as it cools and there ain’t nothin that it don’t catch.  Grass, dirt, feathers – it was all on me good. 

Picked me up and throwed me off in a cart and ‘bout a half dozen more join in with the hollerin.  Best I could do was stay in a ball, sliding back and forth, scraping myself to hell in that wood cart.  Every once in a while, someone would reach in and take a cheap shot.  I was prayin for it to be over by then.  They must have ran me up and down every street in the whole town yellin about what a coward I was. 

Tryin to make a point, but it wasn’t the way to go about it.  Scared the life out of my wife ‘n kids.  Probably scared lots of other people too.  I wasn’t the only one thinkin the way I do.   There was a whole heap of us who didn’t support that goddam war – I guess I was the only one dumb enough to open my big mouth.