Bean Stew [ Fiction]

If my mama could shoot lasers from her eyes at me from the doorway, she would do so without a second thought.

Rolly's Diner was slightly busy as the sheriff's deputies cuffed five dishevelled, bleeding men and hauled them toward their patrol car. Mama walked past them and headed straight for the counter where I sat.

I blinked hard, black spots clearing in my eyes as she stared me down. If only the ground would see my shame at that moment, open up and swallow me whole. Anything to get away from the sadness and disappointment in her soft brown eyes.

I'd done it again. I didn't mean to. My resolve to do better, be a better son who brought her nothing but joy and peace was slowly slipping away.

“It-it was the bean stew,” I wheezed, struggling to breathe.

Her face crumpled in confusion and disgust. “What bean stew? That's your excuse this time?”

“No, ma'am,” I replied and gave her the short version of the commotion that took place before her arrival.

I had come to simply pick up her order, already packed by good old Rosalie, owner of the diner, when a group of riffraff stormed into the place.

There were five of them. They looked road-worn, dressed in oversized, filthy clothes, throw knives tucked into leather sheaths at their waists.

Only one other man sat at the far end of the diner, nursing his meal. There were no other customers.

I paid the riffraffs no mind and walked to the counter when the loner at the last table suddenly screeched like a girl. The men were on him within seconds, wrestling to take his bowl of bean stew away. I glanced at Rosalie and saw the fear in her eyes.

She was just a frail, middle-aged woman working to keep bellies warm. It had been a long time since waywarders came through to harass her or her customers.

I didn't think twice before jumping in, disarming the fools and knocking them around until the sheriff showed up. Then mama showed up too, afraid something had happened to me.

“That's the honest truth, Ma Troy. If Dennis hadn't been here, I don't know what I would have done,” Rosalie added, giving me a grateful smile.

Mama nodded once. “Go home then and clean up,” she ordered. But still I caught the pride in her eyes.

Perhaps I had redeemed myself.

I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "bean stew".

Thank you for visiting my blog.

^{_{Image credit: Juliezimmi3}}