“Ruth? Darla, can I look in the bag?”

Darla trusted me. It took some time for them to find me. I get along with anybody. I can be a total ass, especially with needy people. People who whimper and whine make be dizzy. But I’m naturally in tune with the human condition. I’ve been accepted into homes where no one else could get a foot in edgewise.

“You can look quick” Darla shot back, “An don let the ripe air out either!”

Darla Little hadn’t been to school since the 4th grade. No, she wasn’t a baby when she was being tossed around, she was a fat nine year old. Her mother and boyfriend were screaming at each other and the HBO, when Darla emerged from the bathroom drenched in blood. She ran and jumped into her mother’s lap screaming in terror. Her mother, full of beer and pot, tossed Darla to her boyfriend. He tossed her back. Darla’s mother pulled her hands back instead.

“Darla, I’m going to look into the bag, you want to come look with me and show me what you have and tell me the story about Baby Ruth?”