Crack. That shit will get you really high.

Eight months after Puger, my second step-dad, died, Mom's loneliness got the best of her and she told her friend, Timmy, she needed a man. Timmy was a meth-head that served time with Puger in Dallas County, and they continued their friendship in the real world. Timmy felt bad because Mom was so lonely without Puger, and vowed to help her find the right man. The next week, Timmy was picked up for outstanding warrants. He told his cell-mate, David, about Mom, decided that they were perfect for each other, and set them up.



David, a crackhead thief with a history of violence, began his seduction of my mom via telephone from the Ellis County jail. He told her that he was going to be released soon, and he'd like to take her to see Bonnie Raitt. When I talked to Mom about the impending blind date, she was very excited. She always loved to get drunk and sing along with Bonnie Raitt. I told her that I wasn't sure that dating a crackhead fresh out of jail was a good decision.



"Rebel, Timmy says he's a real nice guy, and David is a sweetheart on the phone."



"Mom, Timmy is a retarded meth-head, and nice guys do not rob little old ladies. Is he calling you collect?"



"I am a big girl, Rebel. I know what I'm doing."



Turns out, "sweetheart" lied. He didn't really have Bonnie Raitt tickets. He just had crack, and a trailer to smoke it in. Big girl decided that she would leave the relative sobriety of the methadone program (10 years clean), and jump headlong into the world of crackheadery.



Mom didn't call anymore, and I only heard from my sister Holly. She said that Mom stopped going to work, ignored her dog, and spent all of her time hiding from imaginary spooks. She had spectacular fistfights with her boyfriend in the apartment parking lot. It didn't take long for her to get fired, and the eviction notice arrived soon after. They stayed in the apartment for another three months, until they received a court order from the apartment manager, stating that the police would forcibly remove her from the apartment, and all her property would be seized if she did not vacate the premises by the following afternoon.



Holly was called to help her move. She said Mom spent the day asking her for money, cigarettes, or money for cigarettes. Holly told her that she didn't have money to give her. When my sister asked Mom if she could have the cast iron bull that was supposed to be my inheritance, my mom sold it to her.



"Hey Reb, Mom sold me your inheritance bull for ten bucks. I'll bring it to you the next time I come visit. I figgered if I didn't buy it from her, we'd never see it again."

***

Taking Red-Neck Crackhead to New Heights

Mom and David didn't have anywhere to go but my grandma's house. Mama Hall would not let them sleep inside the house, because they weren't married. They slept on the covered front porch instead.



They borrowed Mama Hall's car to get back and forth to the methadone clinic, and to buy crack. Holly kept me informed of the developments.



"Uncle Lowell saw Mom drivin' Mama Hall's car, and she had a black guy in the car. He said he knew she was headed over to the Flatts to buy crack, so he came over to Mama Hall's house and threatened to beat her ass if he caught her with a nigger in the car again."



"Mom called me last week, said she wanted to leave that fucking crackhead. Told me he was mean to her all the time, and she was tired of it. I told her she could come stay with me, but she wasn't gonna smoke that shit if she lived here. She didn't say anything else, and I ain't heard from her in three days."



"Your Mama got arrested. They picked her up over in Wilmer, and they were supposed to transfer her over to Seagoville, 'cause she's got warrants there. David told Mama Hall that she had to bail Mom out because she was gonna die in jail if she didn't get her methadone. Told Mama Hall she'd have a heart attack and die. Mama Hall called me, and I told her that was bullshit, she just needed to keep her money, and let Mom sit that shit out. Mama Hall didn't bail her out, but Seagoville never came to get her, so Wilmer just let her go. She called me, and I went to pick her up at the Conoco in Wilmer. I got there, and her face was all purple and swollen, and she didn't have no shoelaces. I said 'Mama, what the hell happened to you?' She said 'The fucking cops wouldn't give me my shoelaces back, and this bitch hit me in the face in there. She walked up when I was eating and told me to give her MY sandwich. I told her "fuck you bitch" then she punched me in the face.' She looks sick, Reb. She probably weighs eighty pounds. You can see all of her bones."



"I saw that motherfucker Timmy at the grocery store, and I told him I oughta kick his ass for hooking my mama up with that fucking crackhead. I asked him how it felt to know that he ruined my mama's life. I told him if I ever saw him again, I'd stab him."



"Mom called me. She wanted to know why I never let her see the baby, and I told her it's 'cause she's a crackhead, and I don't like that motherfucker she's shacked up with, and until she's straight, I don't want her around. She wanted me to tell you that she's still your mother, and she loves you, and you can call her anytime. Do you want the number?"



I did not. That is not to say that I didn't feel guilty about not calling my Mama, or worried that I might miss my chance to talk to her one last time before her inevitable death from excess. I didn't call because I knew that the conversation would end with a plea for money, and I do not like to hear my mom beg.



My sister relieved the large part of my guilt when she called last week.



"Well, we're probably never gonna hear from Mom again. Her and David took Mama Hall's car to the methadone clinic, but it broke down on the way there. They called Mama Hall and told her it was on the side of the road, and they were stuck in Pleasant Grove. She didn't hear from them for a week. When they finally called back, they told her the car had blown a head-gasket, and there wudn't nothin' they could do about it. The next day, Mama Hall got a letter from the bank saying that she was seven hundred dollars overdrawn, and all of her checks bounced. Your Mama stole one of her check books, and wrote checks all over town. Uncle Lowell says he's gonna shoot David. Carla and Wayne-Gene are pissed too. They packed up all her shit, and Mama Hall is supposed to call the cops if she steps on the property."