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Rated: E · Fiction · Contest · #2134359
A harmless, 74-year-old taqueria owner steps out of her comfort zone to save her customer
Marta was 74 and ran the taqueria next to the bar in the strip mall. She always charmed her customers with kindness.

"Black beans or pinto?" she'd ask. Whichever it was, Marta smiled with delight at the answer. Even the grumpiest customers left the taqueria feeling good. She filled tummies with positivity and spicy burritos.

The abuelita of the strip mall had, in 49 years, never been to the bar next door. Marta's nice reputation, she thought, would be shattered if she were caught in a watering hole. But she always wondered what it would be like to be on the other side of the adjoining wall. She'd check it out once she retired. Marta would take a chance on the world outside the taqueria, someday. The timing just had to be perfect.

Monty was Marta's customer for years. He was a retired member of Hell's Angels who lived around the corner. Monty ate burritos everyday before or after his daily trips to the bar. He was polite to Marta. The road had taught him respect until proven otherwise, and Marta had always been kind to him.

Everyday Monty stacked a penny on Marta's counter next to the "Take a penny, Leave a penny" tray. The pile grew and grew, like stacks of poker chips in front of a winner. In return he'd gained Marta's intrigue. He always peppered her with invitations to join him in the bar. "What if today you took a walk on the wild side?" Marta always declined. But she loved hearing Monty laugh through the wall.

The night of the taqueria's 50th birthday came and abuelita wouldn't retire. The timing just wasn't right. Her first pub crawl would have to wait.

Marta was closing up when 3 tough guys walked in. They all had tattoos and leather jackets. Their leader, a tall, bald man, came to the cash register. Marta noticed a Hell's Angels patch on his arm. He noticed she noticed.

"You ever see that before?" Marta glanced at the stack of pennies.

"No sir!" She smiled.

"Mhm. Just some food then."

"Yes!" The man didn't see her delight. He was listening for something. Marta listened too. She caught the familiar sound of Monty's laugh.

"We'll get you on the way back." The Baldy knocked over a stack of Marta's pennies. His boys followed him out the door.

Marta looked around her quiet store. What would she hear in a second? Her eye returned to her pennies. The timing wouldn't ever be right, she thought. This was the moment.

Marta turned on the grill burners. She took off her apron and turned it out into a big sack. She pushed the pennies into the sack and tied it at the end. Marta marched out the door for the last time.

Abuelita burst into the bar. It was dingier than she thought it would be, but livelier. She saw the three thugs scanning the room. Then someone recognized her.

"Marta! Is that you?" Several other folks turned. Marta suddenly had the whole bar's attention, including the ruffians. People pushed forward to hug her. They vied to buy her first drink. As she was scooted towards the bar counter, she locked eyes with Monty at the back of the room, over the shoulder of the bald man.

Marta couldn't help but smile at the first sight of Monty. But her eyes quickly went wide and motioned Monty's gaze to the bikers. Monty looked. He saw the back of the Hell's Angels jacket in front of him. He got up to sneak out the back.

The Baldy saw Marta's eyes too. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused, then looked behind him to see Monty trying to escape.

"There he is! After him!" His two associates sprinted towards the back door.

The leader stepped in front of Marta and the group ushering her towards the bar. He put his hand up. "Hold on."

Baldy studied Marta, towering over everyone in the room. The joyful mood turned somber. Marta stepped forward.

"Permisso," she said. "I'm trying to get my first beer."

"I don't think so. You sent my boy out the back. He owes me. Big time."

"Monty is a good man. Whatever happened with you I'm sure he had good intention."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, grandma." Baldy moved towards Marta. She gripped her bag of pennies.

"Don't take another step." Monty walked in, shielding Marta. He had bruises on his hands. Marta smiled. She handed forward her bag of pennies.

"Well," Baldy said. "Look who has a crush on--"

Monty interrupted him with a smack of pennies across Baldy's mouth. Monty swept out his legs and sent his assailant to the ground.

"Come on! His guys are down, but they'll be back." Monty grabbed Marta's hand and led her out of the bar.

"Mira!" Marta saw three motorcycles parked across the street and the two other Hell's Angels coming around the block.

"Espera. One last thing. You go to the bikes." Marta grabbed the sack of pennies from Monty and pushed him towards the motorcycles. Monty sprinted and slashed the tires on two of them. He hopped on the third bike, revved the engine, and burned out in front of the taqueria.

Marta was staring through the taqueria windows at the burners she'd lit.

"Come on!" Marta looked back at Monty. He held out his hand for her to jump on the back of the bike. She smiled that warm smile that burned into everyone's souls.

"Take a penny, leave a penny." Marta flung the sack of pennies at the window, smashing through the glass. They landed on the burners. She turned and grabbed Monty's hand, swinging herself on the bike. Monty revved the engine and they fled the strip mall.

The two bikers watched Monty and Marta drive away. The taqueria burned behind them.

"Well," one of them eventually said, "Should we get a beer?"


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