Maverick

Maverick

By

Matt McGuire

My father's real name is Jehuda Lejb Goldfarb. But you'll never hear that name spoken.

Anywhere.

My Dad's family were Polish Jews who came to the United States to escape the Nazis. My grandfather changed his name to Golden and became a Maryland Methodist. When I was two my dad moved us down here to Gas Vegas to remove himself further from our Judaic roots. He got a job with Sherwood Industries as a floor boss, and we've lived here ever since. The Sherwoods fired him for being late too many times because he worked at night too, as a jailer. That's when my dad scrounged together enough capital to open First Trade and Loan, but he kept his night job as well. My dad was always working. That's why I'm always working. To be the best.

I play football, baseball, basketball and soccer. I have a four point oh and several scholarship opportunities, both as a place kicker and a third baseman. The only reason I don't have one for basketball is because I'm only five seven, but I got a jumper that'll make you slap your momma. I fuck a lot of girls. Not because I particularly like fucking more than one girl at a time, but because the best always have the most. And if you don't have the most, you're nothing.

I drink too much, which isn't really that much at all. Most of the time I fake being drunk because if you let your guard down, you're gonna get hit. Bam. Just like that. You'll get taken out, because this is a dog eat dog world and the cream rises to the top. Always. You can take that to the bank.

I work at Food Value every night except Saturday, and sometimes Friday during football season, or when I have to be at practice for a sport. In the summer I mow lawns, bag groceries, and do night stock at another supermarket and save every penny. I buy my clothes at Goodwill, but if you ever tell anyone that I'll break your fucking neck. Yeah, I've had a few run ins with the cops from time to time, but good American boys have run ins with the law. Run ins with the law make you a man, just like playing football and fucking girls. If you don't believe me, ask any of the dumbasses I go to high school with.

I have few friends. Friends are a liability unless they have money or connections, or can help you get to the top some way. I keep my friends close, but my enemies even closer. I'm not gonna get shit on, I can tell you that right now, jack. I'm going somewhere in life.

I've applied to the Naval Academy. Pilot training. I'm gonna fly jets. When they say, where'd who go? That who is going to be me, shoving a sidewinder missile up their ass and then doing a goddamn flyby, making those son of a bitches know that Johnny Golden is headed for the tarmac, so break out the beer and the volleyballs, niggas!

Everything has to be perfect. The way I dress, the girls I fuck, my extra points and field goals, and the cans of corn on the shelves at Big K. I gotta get those sons a bitches exactly straight, and if I don't, I'll do it until my eyes bug out. Cause it's at three in the morning. Haha, but whatever, right?

My most embarrassing moment in high school, a real shitass of a time, was when I didn't hit that 60 yarder in the playoffs last year. We won anyway, but I didn't do my part. Jake Biggins and Rob Suddeth beat my ass really good after that game. They took me out behind the greenhouse and beat me into the dirt. Then we all had a few beers, and they went home with a high five, and I went on third at the Big K. I was ten minutes late and I had to hide my bloody nose and that cut above my eye, because I can't lose my job. My family really needs the money. I've got four little sisters and my Dad's business isn't doing so hot. People found out he was a Jew. Goddamnit, we're Methodists now. So I might get another job. Don't know when, but we gotta pay the mortgage or my little sisters aren't gonna live in the best house in Piney Flats.

I draw some. When I have time. I really like to draw. I've been drawing since I was three. Flowers mostly. Fuck you. I shouldn't have told you that. Yeah? Whatever.

My mom is sick. She has cervical cancer and she can't get out of bed most days. She just lies in that big four poster, looking at the ceiling. She's got a 42 inch t.v. in there, but she never turns it on. Sometimes I sit with her, and hold her hand. She's really doped up all the time, but she sings this song every time. You Are My Sunshine. She used to sing that to me in the front porch swing when I was little. She used to be so pretty. She can't cook,or clean, or any of that stuff now. My grandma lives with us now since my grandpa died, and keeps my little sisters, but she's almost 80 years old and has to ride around in one of those rascal things. That cost a lot too. My Dad does most of the housework, and I do the rest. I don't see my Dad very often, and when I do he's pissed off. He knocks me around a little, you know, cause he's my Dad. I know he doesn't mean anything by it. He's just blowing off steam. We all need to blow off steam. Sometimes we'll go out in the yard and throw the football. You know, round three in the morning. Haha, right? But most of the time I don't even see him anymore unless I go by First Trade to clean the shelves and do some inventory.

Can I tell you something? You promise you won't tell anyone? I mean, you fucking swear on your grandpa's grave?

I hate my life. I hate High School. I hate working so much. I hate football. I hate that I got best looking. Everyone's always looking at me...I can't stand it anymore...

Damn it! My allergies must be acting... up...*stammers*...*turns to face the wall*...I don't want my mom to die. I just want to be normal. I can't stand this fucking shit anymore. HELL NO, I'm not crying! Shut the fuck up! *sobs and SLAMS fist on the table* Don't look at me like THAT! I'm the BEST and don't you goddamn forget it!

*room cools for a moment* Haha. Sorry, man. No, I'm straight. *wipes tears from his face with his palm and then thrusts his hands into the pockets of his workpants, leans back, stretching and stands for a moment, looking at the ceiling* Yeah? Okay. Just don't fucking look at me like that, okay?

I gotta go back to work. Can't hang out here in the breakroom all damn day. Will you hand me one of those paper towels? Hey, you mind if I borrow ten bucks? I'll pay you back next Thursday. I just want to take my mom some flowers. They got those Gerber Daisies over in Floral and my mom loves the color yellow. Thanks. Please don't tell anyone what I told you, okay. Please, man. That shit could ruin me if anyone found out. See you next week? Cool. Catch you on the flipside, G.