Free Maya's Choice by Earl Sewell

decided to come and see what the big guy was cooking,” I said, trying to sound very sweet, innocent and nonthreatening.
    â€œBratwursts, Italian sausage and my favorite, steak burgers.” Martin coughed as he flipped the meat over.
    â€œWell, save some for me, I’m starving.” I smiled as sweetly as I could, even though I hated the guy.
    â€œAre you doing drugs?” Martin leaned toward me and looked deeply into my eyes.
    â€œNo,” I said, slightly offended that he believed I’d stoop to such a low level. “I’m just trying to be nice,” I said as I pretended to punch his big belly.
    â€œThat is so special, Viviana.” My mother smiled gleefully. She fell for my line of crap hook, line and sinker. At times she could be so naive, especially when she felt as if she were in love or had found her soul mate yet again. If the truth were to be told, I also had a bone to pick with her, because I knewMartin was the type of guy who’d eventually get physically abusive. However, for some reason that is beyond my comprehension, my mother viewed him as a gentle giant.
    I pretended to not know the difference between a bratwurst and an Italian sausage and asked Martin to show me which was which. While he was distracted I reached for his wallet. I almost had it completely out of his pocket when I heard his stomach grumbling. Martin opened his mouth and let loose a very loud belch that reeked of bad breath and beer. The foul odor that passed through his lips was enough to make my stomach turn sour. I backed away from him, not wanting to go through the torture of inhaling another whiff of the foulness he’d released. As I moved away, I lost my grip on his wallet and it fell to the ground.
    â€œIt’s better out than in,” Martin said, just as his wallet flopped to the ground. He turned to see what the sound was.
    â€œWhy, you little—!”
    Before Martin could finish his sentence I said, “I think your wallet fell,” and reached for it.
    â€œYou were trying to rip me off!” Martin quickly lost his temper and I suddenly realized he was perhaps the last person I should have attempted to practice on. However, I didn’t want him to think the worst of me, so I glanced at my mother, who was still trying to figure out what had set Martin off.
    â€œNo, I wasn’t,” I said, handing it over to him.
    â€œI know that my wallet was deep inside my pocket, little girl!” Martin barked, so I moved away from him.
    â€œWell, apparently it wasn’t, because as soon as you belched it fell out of your pocket,” I said, holding on to my lie.
    My mother came over and took the wallet from me and placed it back inside Martin’s rear pocket.
    â€œCalm down, baby. Just be glad you didn’t lose it on the street,” my mother said, using her sweet caresses to calm her ogre down. I backed away from them.
    â€œI’ve been around pickpockets before. I wasn’t born yesterday.” Martin shot bullets at me with his eyes.
    â€œWhatever, man,” I said, putting more distance between us. I went into my room and sat on the bed. It didn’t take long for Martin to start verbally abusing my mother. I grabbed the knife I’d found and walked toward the back porch. I’d planned to stand watch in case he decided to put his hands on my mother. She eventually worked her charm and got him to calm down. Watching my mother bend over backward to soothe Martin’s every tantrum was beyond irritating. She behaved as if her very existence depended on how happy he was. I eventually went into Martin’s spare room and shut the door. I sat on the bed, exhaled, and then just glared at the floor as I thought about my father.
    My dad was my world and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t miss him. At times he’d tickle me to the point I’d almost pee on myself, but I didn’t mind. Whenever he had the time