The heist

The local shelter is full but there is a cot available at the shelter in the next town, a 40-minute drive.

To disuade him from pestering me to allow him to stay here, I let him borrow my car to drive the distance. I cross my fingers hoping he isn’t pulled over by the cops and my car impounded again. He promises he’ll be back first thing tomorrow morning to get his regular dose of medication.

On the way out he sees some acquaintances who had given him a ride before. They now ask him for a ride. He’s going their way. They both climb in.

The friends ask if he wouldn’t mind a quick stop at Walmart to pick up a few groceries. He drives up near the door but they tell him to pull over to a specific spot, which he finds odd but doesn’t think anything of it. The gal hops out saying she’ll be no more than 5-10 minutes.

She’s out in less time than that. She hops in the back and says go now, fast, but not too fast. Soon the truth comes out that she has just stolen 30 lbs of fresh meat. She’s going to sell it to friends for money to buy herself drugs.

Will anyone believe my son’s innocence if they get pulled over? Has my car been reported as part of a theft? Did the plates get caught on security cameras? Are the police going to pull up my driveway, knock on the door, ask my 93-year-old very frail mom about the location of my car? And am I complicit in this theft because I allowed my son to drive my car? Welcome to the underbelly of drug addiction.

 

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