“Just how much money did you make at this little enterprise?”Paul answered, “Out records are up in the treehouse.”“One of you go fetch them,...�� Ted ordered, and Paul offered to be the one to do so. After he had left the legal guardian turned to Paula.“I assume you did the actual book-keeping?”The little girl nodded. “Yes. I handled all the numbers and danced. Paul was the DJ, bartender, and made sure other boys at school knew about the club.”“Bartender?” George’s mother asked.Ted asked, “Was. But after lifting himself off of his bed amidst the empty beer bottles and stale rinds of late night pizza that bed skirted his mattress, he went to the kitchen drawer where the silverware would have normally been kept and lit up a joint that cast its thick shadowy gloom over an otherwise sun-lit apartment. He had taken too many steps backwards to even think about returning to his glorious status as a saint. He was far too removed to pontificate to anyone on how they should lead a good, moral. More

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