Andy drives in as I step out of the shower. He's my favourite guardian but has a full life outside the taxi business. He can't make school visits, meetings or price giving ceremonies but he buys the best snacks. That's what the majority of a person's diet consists of when they don't have a normal family. My meals are a quick trip to which ever store is closest after a last ride call. Store pies, drive through junk, a pack of fruit and lots of packet chips and cookies. Every now and then I get a home-cooked meal from Brad and Andy and those are the best days. That's mostly on weekends when I get to spend most of the time alone, eating and sleeping. I may be an orphan but I'm over fed and happy generally. I don't have Child Services checking up on me because they believe I'm still under the care of that God forsaken foster family. Also because they don't care enough to follow through on old cases.
Andy makes my day and has supper with me. He brought an electric heater for us to sit right in front of. He's also brought me a second blanket for tonight. The rain hasn't stopped since this afternoon and the temperature has dropped significantly. I'd be excited if today was Friday then I could sleep and fully enjoy the bad weather.
"What kind of medication does Brad take for his old age?" I ask Andy as he washes our plates and cups. Yes, cool Andy doesn't make me wash dishes. He laughs first before asking why I think Brad's on medication. "School". I say then pause. The liar in me is full and sleepy. "They're teaching you about medicine for old people at school?" Andy asks now looking at me. "No. It just came up when one boy asked to leave early so he could go get medication for his 68 year old grandfather". He believes me and admits he doesn't know if Brad is taking any medication but I push on. "But what kinds of pills do old people need?" Andy isn't well vested in the subject but gives me enough information to convince nurse Clara that my grandfather needs to be registered to receive medicine at the clinic.
*****
Health on Wheels clinic is nothing more than a reception area with a whole lot of drugs at the back. They also have a make shift office on the side with just a desk and 3 chairs. One for the health professional and two across the table. I initially told Clara I was there to pick up my grandmother's medication. When she asked for her name and security number whilst fixing to type in the information in the computer; I knew I needed a better story. "Brad Jones" "Didn't you say you're here for your grandmother's medication?" "I lied. My grandfather needs medication but refuses to bring himself so I decided to take matters into my own hands. Bring him the medicine."
She bought the story but still insisted on an identity document and a prescription. Now I just need Brad's medical files.
YOU ARE READING
Born A Murderer
General FictionLabled a murderer from birth and kicked out of his home at two days old; ...... spends most of his life planning to prove his innocence and claim what he believes is rightfully his.
