Drugs...AA...Therapy...Child-support...and 1 fated plate of spaghetti

When it came to men, Ruth was the worst judge of anyone I’ve ever met. Her biggest problem was that she was a believer in rehabilitation. The fascinating individuals she would bring to our house astounded even Pap. She would relate to us painful accounts of the endless tragedies they had suffered and how they never got a break and how they were always being taken advantage of and how their fathers beat them with whips and put out their cigarettes on their bare skin. I would often say “Come on Ruth, anyone can see he’s a total wash-out”  He is not Agnes! He’s going to therapy, he goes to his AA meetings every week, he pays child support to all the mothers of his children, he’s going to be off probation soon, it wasn’t his fault his car got repossessed! He’s been clean for thirteen whole days!” Ruth put all her stock in these people and made attempt after attempt to cure them of their depraved and lecherous ways. I can honestly say that never once was she successful.

Ruth moved Leroy Lester into our basement in the hopes that she would be able to help him kick his cocaine addiction. He bathed biannually and wore the same two shirts interchangeably. In addition to his being a cocaine addict he was also a criminal mastermind when it came to getting free meals from fast food restaurants. Prior to moving in he twisted his ankle while crawling out the window of his previous residence while it was being raided He hobbled around the house sunken eyed and smelling of sweat and French fries. He lived with us for over a month before being kicked out by Pap. Pap didn’t care that he was a vagrant, pathetic user or that he drank rubbing alcohol on the weekend, or that he wore women’s underwear, but what got Leroy Lester ejected from the house was that one day he decided to re-heat a plate of spaghetti in the microwave without putting a cover on it first. Pap came home to find his usually, spotless and unsoiled microwave resembling a supreme pizza. Knowing that it couldn’t possibly be any of his children, as we knew just what an serious offence that was, it was clearly Leroy Lester who had done it. Pap went down to his room where he found him high and painting the toenails of his working foot. He knocked him around for a while before making him pack up his spare shirt, fingernail polish and leave.