“Have a heart, lady,” he said and emptied his cup on the counter. The woman looked at him in distaste before she counted the money.
“That’ll cover it,” she said, taking all the money, including his last $2. “Now step aside. You’re holding the line.”
Brandon abandoned his can of beans on the counter as he offered the water to the older man.
“Here you go, sir. I got you water,” he spoke slowly and clearly, ensuring the man could see his face if he needed to lip-read. And the man thanked him. They left the store together, and Brandon headed to his tent on the bare patch of ground adjacent to the station, but the man stopped him.
“Wait!”
Brandon turned around.
“Why did you help me when you obviously needed the money?” asked the older man, noticing Brandon’s tent where Brandon’s eldest daughter was helping her two siblings wash up in a bucket.
“But what are your kids going to eat? I saw you leave the beans on the counter.”
“We have the last of yesterday’s bread, and there’s a good chance I’ll find some scraps at that fast food joint across the street,” Brandon replied. “We’ll get by.”
The man walked away but with a frown. Brandon noticed he got in a gleaming SUV and wondered why a man like him couldn’t afford a bottle of water.
