It was going to be a burner, one of those days when you wake up and the soles of your feet are wet with sweat. The way it had been, one day after another, with no letup. After a while it gets to a man, unhinges his brain, assuming he had some sense to start with. That's what happened to Billy Floyd at the auction sale. The heat wasn't the only reason, but folks understand weather. The sun shines on the sinners and the saved.

In Billy's case the reason he acted the way he did was in his blood, and the heat just brought it out. For as far back as anyone knew, Billy's people had never amounted to squat. Lots of high-flown notions and plenty of excuses. There was something downright childish about all of them but without the innocence folks are always hanging on children. I never held with that idea anyway. Some people go to the grave without learning anything. You can call that innocence if you've a mind, but to me it's plain dumb.

People looked out for the Floyds because God knows they couldn't fend for themselves, brought them food out of the garden or invented jobs for Billy. Each time Billy would stick his hands in the bib of his overalls, grin, and say, "You didn't have to do that." Hell, we knew we didn't have to, but if we didn't who would?