Free Maya's Choice by Earl Sewell Page A

he’d take me to a park on Chicago’s lakefront and I’d play in the sand and splash around in the water. I was always bringing him something from beneath the sand or some object that had washed up on shore and he’d act as if it were the best gift in the world, which made me want to go find more stuff to give him. Dad loved playing softball and when I was nine he took me to the ballpark, where I’d watch him and all of his friends play. They were mostly guysfrom the neighborhood that he’d grown up with, but I considered them all to be my uncles because they never let anything happen to me. I always felt protected and safe around my father and his friends. My father had a reputation around the neighborhood, so no one dared to try to steal my bike if I left it on the sidewalk, or take candy from me. If someone tried, all I’d have to say was, “My father is Ricardo Vargas,” and they’d immediately apologize. It was the coolest thing to have a father who everyone feared. The reason they feared him so much was beyond me, because the man that I knew was kind and gentle. He and my mother also loved going to parties and doing the bachata. Sometimes I’d watch them practice around the house because there was always a bachata dance contest going on and they’d won a lot of prize money together. Whenever they danced they looked like the perfect couple. They were so in love. Sometimes when they danced I’d get between them. Admittedly, I was a little jealous of my mother. I didn’t want to share him with her.
    Then one day my father came home bleeding. His forearm had been ripped open by a knife. When I saw all of the blood I just screamed because I thought he was dying.
    â€œViviana, go to your room!” He looked me directly in the eyes, but I was too afraid to leave him.
    â€œNo,” I said with a trembling voice and eyes filled with tears.
    â€œGo on, I’m okay, it’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, trying to comfort me. My mother was running around searching for the first aid kit. When she found it she gave it to my father, then escorted me to my room. She told me to go to bed and that everything was okay, but I didn’t believe her.I tried to run past her and go to my father, but she stopped me. She pushed me back inside the room and locked the door from the outside. I kicked the door and screamed at the top of my lungs. I screamed and yelled until my voice was gone. Finally, I fell asleep on the floor.
    When I awoke the next morning, I was in my bed and my bedroom door was cracked open. I walked out and found my father in the kitchen, drinking orange juice directly from the cartoon. His arm was bandaged up and he said, “See, I’m fine.” I wanted to ask him what happened but I didn’t. I just walked over to him and hugged him as tightly as I could.
    â€œI’m going to teach you how to protect yourself. You’re ten years old now and you’re getting to be a big girl.”
    â€œProtect myself from what? All I have to do is mention your name and people leave me alone,” I said.
    â€œI know, but sometimes that may not be enough, and I may not always be around to scare off the bad guys. Let me see you make a fist.” I did what he said.
    â€œYou have strong hands like me. I’ll show you how to fight and protect yourself like a boy. That way you’ll fight differently than a girl,” he said.
    â€œBut why?” I asked once again.
    â€œBecause you just never know, a lot of things can happen out there on the streets and I want my little girl to know how to handle herself,” he explained.
    Thinking about my father caused my emotions to get carried away and the last thing I wanted to do was break down crying. I pushed my pain deep down and pressed my palms to my eyes. As I did this I could hear my father’s ghostly voice telling me to toughen up.
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    The following day I left the house