It had been months since I had a proper roof over my head. Roaming from town to town, doing what I could for spare change to afford fresh clothing at the thrift stores.

I had been spending my time in a warehouse, just something to protect me from the elements until the damn security guard caught me. Tossed me right out into the storm. Something wrong with that guy, nothing I could say would get through to him.

I had been walking down the side of the road in the pounding rain when Agatha picked me up. Dear, sweet Agatha. She took me in, offered me food and dry clothing. Her husband’s, she said. He looked to be about my size. He’d gone off to war years ago and never come home.

I actually got to stay for quite some time. She gave me shelter and in exchange I kept her company and did a few odd jobs around the house that she had become incapable of in her declining years. In the evenings, we would sit in the parlor and I would read to her, old, musty books of romance and adventure. Ah, she would laugh and clap her hands like an excited child. Other nights, I would read to her the letters her husband had sent home from the war. These always put a smile on her face, though I could see the tears glistening in her cataract covered eyes.

One day, I let out a sigh as I read the headline of the local newspaper. They were getting too close, and it was time for me to move on. I sat down and explained the situation to Agatha and she just nodded and smiled her sad smile. She said she knew that I, too would have to leave her eventually, everyone does.

She shuffled off to her bedroom and returned with a small wooden box. The box was stuffed to the brim with cash, mostly hundred dollar bills. She told me, “Take what you need. I won’t be needing it much longer, and I don’t have anyone left to leave it to.”

I took her old, arthritic hands in mine and told her to go lie down for a while, we could talk about it again in a bit. She nodded obediently and shuffled off to her bedroom. I took a little time packing my things. I placed the small wooden box in my pack, along with some clothing and a picture of Agatha herself. She had, after all, been a great friend.

Before leaving, I headed up to her room. I stood over her, watching her sleep for what felt like hours, my heart aching in my chest. I knelt beside her bed and whispered into her sleeping ear, “Agatha, I’m leaving now.”

“Alright dear, take what you need…” She mumbled, still soundly asleep.

I drank deeply from her, draining every drop. She passed on peacefully in her sleep, one final gift in return for her kindness, and letting me take what I need.