Annie sneaks up on Trashy the Clown from behind this time, surprising him.
“Gimme some pills!”
“You’ll have to stay behind from this point on, Young Ruby,” commanded Annie, hands on hips at the entrance to the sugar house.
“I thought you were an *artist*, Aunt Annie.”
“I’m slipping. Karl is threatening to turn blue again. I need a cash replenishing. This will do it.”
“Don’t do it. Think of Tennessee. Would *she* stoop this low?”
“Many times,” countered Annie to the youngster, not her real niece but a faux relationship Ruby deemed necessary. And she had that power, thanks to Mabel. But she couldn’t take away her free will. “Many times with many men,” Annie furthered. “And their many parts.”
Ruby continued to pout outside while Annie signed up for her new business. “If you tell Karl, I’ll kill you,” she told Ruby later. Annie may have to have some therapy soon. I chalk it up to the recent pill popping. Red and blue are all mixed up for her, undifferentiated.