“Can’t afford no hospital,” Geoff shook his head. “My health plan lapsed years ago.”
Holly knew there were programs to help individuals who couldn’t afford healthcare. She also knew that didn’t cover all hospital bills, many times leaving people with staggering debt they couldn’t repay. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m guessing it’s pneumonia,” Molson responded. “Without an x-ray I can’t be certain. It’s only in the lower lungs so far so with antibiotics it should clear up. Unless it’s not pneumonia.”
“He needs a prescription to get antibiotics,” Holly frowned. “Geoff would have to visit a doctor anyways.”
“Don’t need any doctor. We’ve got Molson,” Geoff nodded.
Molson searched through his bag, pulling out a pill bottle. He counted out a few pills, putting them in an envelope, that he wrote the instructions on. “One in the morning. One at night.”
“Yes sir,” Geoff took the packet, putting it in his shirt pocket.
“How do you have antibiotics?” Holly took the bottle, examining it.
“I have my sources,” Molson took two soup containers and four snack packs, handing them to Geoff. “By the way, Candy thinks you’re cute.”
“Candy?” Holly asked, distracted as Molson took the bottle of pills, putting them away. “Who?”
“The lady in the cardboard box,” Molson explained. “She’s super shy so don’t go scaring her.”
“Oh,” Holly looked toward the box.
“I think you’re cute too, Beautiful,” Molson smiled, grabbing some more containers of food and taking them to Candy.
“How long has Molson been doing this?” Holly asked thoughtfully.
“Years,” Geoff shrugged. “I don’t rightly know. I met him about three years ago. Since then he’s been feeding and doctoring me when I need it. I tell you, if there were more people in this world like him, it would be a better place.”
“Ready for the next stop?” Molson asked as he approached them.
“Ready,” Holly got to her feet. “It was nice to meet you Geoff.”
“You two have a good night,” he uncapped one of the soups, smelling it.
“Stay out of the wet weather,” Molson advised him. “I’ll check on you later.”
They grabbed the carts and trekked along the alley.
Holly met Rebekah, who had an ulcer on her leg. She was a cheerful woman, happy to see Molson and exclaim over Holly. She met Ike, who had recently gotten a part time job at a Chinese restaurant, scrubbing dishes. Ike was slow mentally, but otherwise grateful for Molson’s help and proud of his new job. Then there was so many others, all with varying mental health issues, physical health issues, and in need of food.
Holly was surprised when Molson also handed out toothpaste, soap, toothbrushes, combs, replaced refillable water bottles, nail clipping kits, and even socks.
“If their socks are bad, their feet become bad,” he explained. “It’s just preventative.”
Holly watched as he bandaged scrapes and cuts. She chatted with the people they met, learning about them as Molson applied ointment, handed out medical advice, and generally greeted these people like old friends.
Perhaps they were.
“How often do you do this?” Holly dragged her now empty cart behind. Night had fallen, and he’d given her a flashlight for when they left the better lit areas of the city.
“Once or twice a week. I try for twice but it’s not easy with working and the hospital hours,” Molson responded. “This part of town, I want you to stay close. If I don’t talk to a person first, you don’t talk to them. Don’t ever come here alone. Bad things happen here.”
“Then why are we walking here?” Holly moved a little closer to him.
“Cuz people need help,” Molson said simply.
“Aren’t you worried that something will happen to you?” she wondered.
