Desperation never looks good on anyone. Sammy looked horrible. Sadie watched him from the shade while he got mad at Angel, getting pink - pinker, if that was possible. His fat pocked cheeks quivered and his thick white hair stood straight up through the top of his sun visor. It was his best feature, his hair. That platinum shade caught the light nicely as he shook his head around - I've really got to try it, she thought.
Something Angel said that Sadie couldn't hear ticked Sammy off and he really started yelling. She looked sideways at Rosa who rolled her eyes. Then the terriers started barking, making him even louder. She had to step in before he'd start kicking at them like last time.
Rosa knew what was wrong but it couldn't be helped. There was nothing anyone could do for Sammy. Money was everything to him and he was broke. He might recover financially - someday. But it would stunt him emotionally. It already had. He was depressed and quit playing golf. He sat in the pool drinking beer all day, turning a scary scarlet hue before rolling into bed at dusk, sleeping until afternoon, and doing it over again. Sometimes he ate cold hot dogs out of the package or tortilla chips. Otherwise it was all beer all day.
Rosa figured Sammy's problems were hereditary. Alva was the same in that he lost a lot of money and got unhappy about it a lot. Or maybe it had to do more directly with Sammy's Great Uncle Johnny. Sammy's grandfather was lionized but his brother Johnny never measured up. He was "not quite right" to begin with and then grew resentful and hateful of everything and everybody. It was Uncle Johnny who told Sammy and Sadie that there was always a good and a bad twin and that Sammy was the bad one. How do you grow up hearing that? Rosa told them that's ridiculous and cited examples. Sadie got past it quick, but Sammy just used "bad twin" as an excuse every time he got caught. Still does.