CHAPTER 3

acob Two-Two’s mother disliked Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse even more than he did. “Must we have that awful man in our house again?” she asked.

“I’ve known him for what seems like a hundred years,” said Jacob Two-Two’s father, “and Perfectly Loathsome Leo never gets invited anywhere else.”

“No wonder,” said Jacob Two-Two’s mother.

Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse’s suit was so shiny you could just about see your reflection in it. His shirt collar and cuffs were badly frayed. He used a rope, instead of a belt, to hold up his trousers. One of his socks was brown, and the other black, to match his smelly shoes, one black, the other brown. He had never married, because a wife would be too costly, as would children, always growing out of their clothes, and he didn’t bathe very often either, because soap was so expensive.

“He’s so mean,” one of the poker players once said, “he wouldn’t help a man off a hot stove unless there was some gain in it for him.”

“He has the first dollar he ever earned,” said Jacob Two-Two’s father.

Whenever he came to the house, Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse would pretend to be fond of Jacob Two-Two when the other men were around, but played nasty tricks on him if he caught him alone. That very evening, for instance, as Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse approached the house for the poker game, he came upon Jacob watering the front lawn. “My God,” he said, “do you still live here?”

“Why not? Why not?”

“Your mother told me she was having you exchanged for a girl. Maybe the deal hasn’t come through yet.”

Later he caught Jacob Two-Two alone in the kitchen and immediately indicated an imaginary spot on his shirt. “Hey, is that a bumblebee I see there?” And when Jacob Two-Two lowered his head to look, Perfectly Loathsome Leo flicked Jacob’s nose hard with his bent finger. “Gotcha, didn’t I?”

Because he was such a miser, the other poker players, including Jacob’s father, tried their best to beat him in the game. But, unlike the other men, who came to have fun and trade stories about the good old days, Perfectly Loathsome Leo was a very careful player, and that night, as usual, he ended up being a big winner. Whooping with joy as he scooped up his money, he then looked longingly at the food that remained on platters on a sideboard, and said, “Oh, I didn’t have time to shop today. Do you mind if I take home enough food for my lunch tomorrow?” And then, without waiting for an answer, he wrapped up enough smoked salmon, salami, ham, potato salad, and coleslaw to last him the rest of the week. Next he turned to Jacob Two-Two’s father, and asked, “Are you, um, through with this morning’s newspaper?”

“Take it,” said Jacob Two-Two’s father, laughing out loud.

“Anybody driving my way?” asked Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse.

“Now that you’ve got all our money,” said one of the players, “why don’t we call you a taxi?”

“Oh, no!” protested Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse, alarmed. “I’ll walk.”

“Don’t worry,” said the player. “I’ll drive you.”

Once Perfectly Loathsome Leo Louse had gone, Jacob Two-Two’s mother opened up all the dining-room windows to air things out. “I will never understand why you put up with that man,” she said to Jacob Two-Two’s father.

“Because Leo’s an original,” said Jacob Two-Two’s father. “There’s nobody else quite like him.”

“Thank God for that,” said Jacob Two-Two’s mother.