Run from his Shotgun

Chapter Two- The Things You Learn

"Didn't you take all that last week?" George frowned. I nudged him because he had just said that Andrew didn't have to explain. 

Andrew didn't seem to mind the question. "There's been an issue." And then I noticed his temple. 

"What happened to the side of your face?" There was a large bruise there accompanied by a small cut.

His fingers touched the bruise and he explained, "That's a just a little token. There's a fight on the streets. Drug related or something, I don't know. I try to keep away from all that. All my things got taken in the middle of it."

"What fight?" I was curious.

"Ah, always a street-gang, throwing little punches to massage their ego." Vera spoke up behind us. She had her arms full of shampoo- all the shampoo we had in the store. "It's always money. Never anything else."

"Ah Vera," George said slowly, as he eyed the load of shampoo, "I like your hair as it is. Don't you?"

Vera's eyes, small and beady as they were, narrowed into thin slits. "Don't you know better than to insult a woman like that? Old man like you, you should be ashamed of yourself." She sniffed loudly. 

I cleared my throat. "Your hair is lovely Vera. I'm sure George is just a little concerned about all that shampoo washing away its vibrancy. He was only trying to compliment you. It's a shame it came across a little...insulting, right George?"

George mumbled something that sounded like a grudging agreement.

Andrew was staring at Vera, his eyes bright with curiosity, "How would you know about street-fights? I'd say it's about drugs."

Vera barged past us, dumping the shampoos with a loud thud onto the counter. "From my experience, boy. I know a lot more than you think. Drugs are money." 

"OK." said Andrew, but it was clear from his face that he thought Vera didn't know much about that world.

"Ha, kids." Vera muttered under her breath, shaking her head. "They think they are the only ones that face problems. The only ones with their kind of problems."

George looked at her, "Vera, are you OK?"

"Why would I not be OK? Silly old man." She shuffled towards another aisle, leaving the pile of shampoo on the counter. 

Andrew eyed the bottles with great interest and asked, "Do you have also have chilli?"

"I don't think so. From what I made out earlier, we only have soup and some beans. Clam chowder?" I offered, though the suggested made me feel queasy. He seemed to feel the same way.

"You OK, Andrew? How many of your things were taken?"

"I didn't have much anyway. I'll go back once I hear they're gone to check things over, in case anything is left behind." I noticed he was distracted by something behind me and glanced over to see Vera who'd returned.

"Gone?" She hissed, "They are never gone, boy, not really."

Andrew asked, "OK, so what would you know about it?"

Suddenly a fierce look captured her face, her eyes flashed full of fire making us all slightly jump at the abrupt change. "You all think that it's just poor old Vera, wandering around the streets, that no one wants to put up with me so I'm just discarded like trash. Well, no one knows me! The things I know, the things I've been through, everything I've been through..." she trailed away, as through her energy was all spent by her short speech, now looking forlorn and lost.