Multiple Choice

From the moment I was born, I had been repeatedly told by my mother that my father was a bad man. I never understood why, but believed it anyway.

I had never met him. My momma told me that she had never told him of me because she didn’t want me to get hurt. I trusted her, and was grateful of her.

One day I found out just how bad my father really was. Someone knocked on the door, and my mother told me to hide in the closet.

I watched through the slats as she opened the door to let in a dirty, misshapen man who I had never seen before in my life. I had no idea who he could be because we never had visitors and my mother had never said anything to me about any of her friends.

I didn’t know why I had to stay hidden. The man looked tired and weak, harmless, and even nice to me.

At least it seemed like that at first. My mother smiled nervously and it occurred to me that she might like this man. It never crossed my mind that she might be afraid, I had never seen my mother scared, so I didn’t know what it looked like on her face.

They sat down at our kitchen table and were drinking coffee. My mother’s face gradually relaxed.

Then the man noticed one of my toys on the ground. It was a rubber dinosaur. For a moment I wished I had been a good boy and picked up my toys like my momma had told me to.

The man scowled and started yelling at my mother. They both stood up from their seats. They were talking about me, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know why that man was so angry and my momma looked so upset.

I don’t know how long I listened to them scream at each other, but by the time the man went towards the stove I was getting very upset myself.

When the man lifted a pan off the stove and swung it at my mother, I let out a cry. I remember jumping out of the closet when I saw my momma on the floor.

The man was still there, though. He grabbed me up from my mom’s side. I don’t think I had ever seen anyone that angry. He looked more angry than my mother when I didn’t finish my vegetables.

He called me his son. I didn’t know if it was true but I had a nagging suspicion it was because he was so mean.

He frowned at my crying, for by now tears were running down my face and I really just wanted to see if my mother was all right.

He asked me why I was being so serious. He told me he would make me smile forever. He took the knife from our cutting board and carved into my face as if he was carving into a turkey on Thanksgiving.

It hurt a lot. I don’t remember anything after that. I woke up to my mother screaming.

My momma gave me away after that and I never saw her again.