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Medical Transport Driver Part 3 - Brody's Knife

Updated on July 8, 2012

Your not going to believe how sharp this knife is.

Brody came out of his house with a weird grin that morning. I waited in the car and watched him through rain soaked windows. It was chilly and he was my first pick up of the day. That had been the routine with Brody for nearly a year now. He was tall, six foot six or so and he had the size but not the hands to be a football player. He had a football name even.

Brody had some mental issues and I took him each weekday to his program about twelve miles from his home. We were close in age and we had plenty to talk about but in most cases he would lay his head back and fall asleep. I would spend the rest of the next hour picking up other people on the way to the same area. On some days there were more than others but always there was Brody.

Regardless of whatever his issues Brody was a great big nice guy. He was the sort of guy that talked real slow and pretended to listen real intently but in truth he was only getting about half of what you were saying. Now, he wasn't dumb. He was simply on so many medications it was hard for him to stay completely there in the moment. He was a great guy and there were many mornings when a nice old lady needed the front seat and he would be the perfect gentleman and help her out, even though that was my job he always handled it like his mother had raised to him to do so.

No one was ever bothered by Brody. Although he was big fellow he was never scary or intrusive. Sometimes I would have to ask him to stop snoring and he would exclaim, "I wasn't asleep!" And then he would go right back to sleep.

Then there was Lita. She was a boisterous woman with a heart matched in size only by her giant hips. Though the top half of her reminded you of none other than Marilyn Monroe the bottom half reminded you she would never need a flotation device. She was funny and wise and constantly talking. She instantly seemed to find an attraction for big Brody.

I think it was because she smelled his innocence. Lita had confided in me in the past that she had at one time been a "Working Girl". In Brody she saw the innocence she once knew and the more he turned red with embarrassment the closer she leaned toward him.

So thick was his skull it took weeks for him to realize what was going on. Finally he asked, " you,think she likes me or something?" I laughed out loud and regretted it as he nearly shut down on me. I said, "No! I think she wants to do dirty things to you, Brody! I don't think she likes you! I just think she wants to make you her boy toy!" I laughed at his expense but I couldn't help it. I realized that my big friend here was what I had suspected all along. A virgin. I had brought it up before and he assured me there was a girl once...but I doubted it and I surely doubted it now.

Now, alright Lita wasn't young and built like a normal woman but she was attractive in her own way. "I think she might be a lot older than me!" He exclaimed.

I laughed again. "Dude, haven't I told you my girlfriend is seventeen years older than me? Its not a big deal! What other girl have you met in the last five years that wanted to get in your drawers?" I asked incredulously.

"Wow, seventeen years..." He shook his head at me. "You must be crazy, but I see your point. Lita sure isn't that much older than me." He admitted.

"No, there isn't nearly that kind of difference. Go out with her one night. I'll tell you what, if she says yes I'll be your chauffeur so you guys don't have to worry about a ride." I offered my services free of charge. The show alone would have been priceless.

Needless to say after that day Brody loosened up a lot. He actually began to stay awake once Lita was in the car. He talked and flirted back on occasion and he and Lita became really good pals. They never went out on that date though, sorry to say.

That day Brody came out with a weird grin on his face. Let me get back to that.

There was no one else for me to pick up that morning so it was right into the teeth of the traffic and on we went. Brody pulled a small, black handled pocket knife out of his pocket. For a moment he stared at the blade and then he said, "I stayed up all night sharpening this blade. I didn't sleep at all but this thing is so sharp I think it could cut anything."

I downplayed it purposefully. "Really."

"Do you have something I can cut? Let me show you how sharp this thing is!" He wanted to show me how sharp the knife was. Not an uncommon wish among friends of the teenage persuasion but as men in our late twenties? I tried to relay through my disinterest and handed him a piece of paper. He joyfully sliced cleanly down the length of the sheet, cutting it finely and easily like a razor.

"Yeah, that's a sharp ass knife, Brody!" But he wouldn't quit with the knife. He wanted to cut more stuff and suddenly he is cutting one of his belt loops from his jeans. Now he's looking for something else to cut and I am trying to appear as disinterested as I could possibly be but instead of changing the subject he becomes obsessed.

Then we were going through some tough traffic and while he was watching everything around us i asked, "Can I see that knife?" He handed it to me without looking. I pretended to be checking its balance and checking its blade during the next stop and he looked on proudly. Then there was a bit of a close call as yet another woman driver nearly killed me because she wasn't fully aware of her surroundings. Sorry, different hub needed for that issue.

I placed the knife down between us. Placeing it snuggly just under the middle cushion of the '94 LTD. I arrived at his destination and I began talking to him and reminding him that we would be picking up Lita on the way home and he conveniently fogot the knife.

He went inside and I was long gone when the phone call came. The dispatcher asked if I had seen a knife. I could hear the concern in her voice.

"Should Brody have a knife, Joe?" My dispatcher asked after hanging up with the program.

"No. Probably not. That's why I decided to keep the knife and not let Brody know I have it." I replied calmly.

"Ah, understood." She replied. She then contacted the program and explained what I had done and they were grateful. They said that Brody had been denying his medications and was acting very manic lately. They definitely did not want him to have a knife. I still have that knife today and I use it as a modeling tool for 40k. I have never needed to sharpen it.

That was one of the last times I saw my friend Brody. He was a good guy, an innocent kind of guy, that didn't deserve the mental illness that ruined his life.

He took his own life one night and left a note explaining his reasons. Most of his words were private and were not shared with his casual friends. The only reason I know of that he gave for committing suicide was his frustration with his favorite football team not getting to the superbowl. He was a Seattle fan, I have no idea why.

It was only a few years after that when the Seattle Seahawks went to the superbowl. I shook my head and cursed. Literally I cursed and spat at the ground. Isn't that how it always is? I never thought Brody would do something like that but I soon learned that when you mess with the dosage of your medications they can make you do things you normally would not. I shook my head. You mean, if he had never been given any medication in the first place he would not have committed suicide? Yeah, I wonder these sort of things about a lot of the people I met during this job. Is the cure greater than the curse?

I don't know. I surely am not qualified to make that declaration. I was paid to do a job.


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