Max Gates

Chapter 4 : Dancing with Secrets

Later that evening, at the dinner table, the air hung heavy with a palpable silence. Rosie served a hearty fare of steak, mashed potatoes, and salad, yet the communal silence seemed to supersede the flavors. His mother, absorbed in her tablet, pushed her meal to the side with nonchalance. Meanwhile, his multitasking aunt skillfully juggled eating and browsing her phone, as Max quietly consumed his meal, his gaze oscillating between the two women.

Despite Maddie's assurance earlier that it was nothing, Max found himself wrestling with the persistent memory of the morning's overheard sentence. "You need to be more cautious; I wouldn't want him getting suspicious." Attempting to push it from his thoughts, he recalled a text from Ben advising him to approach his aunt for clarity.

Compelled by an escalating curiosity, Max mustered the courage to broach the subject. "So about–"

"Max, when is Mr. Wu coming back?" His mother interjected, cutting him off.

The abrupt shift in conversation hung in the air, a pivot from the anticipated inquiry, and Max, caught in the whirlwind of unspoken questions, found himself momentarily silenced.

Max, startled, responded, "Uhh, I think probably after the summer."

His aunt, adopting an air of casual intrigue, gently placed her phone on the table, diverting her focus from the screen to the unfolding conversation. "Who is Mr. Wu?" she inquired, exhibiting a curiosity that transcended the ordinary.

"Max's martial art instructor," his mother replied, decisively closing her laptop to fully engage in the dialogue.

"Max takes martial arts classes?" His aunt's astonishment was palpable.

"Yeah, Mom forces me to endure Mr. Wu's class twice a week," Max admitted with a languid demeanor, his indifference woven into his words. "I don't even know why."

Perplexed, his aunt sought clarification, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I do not see the point of it," Max clarified, his nonchalance echoed in the ripple of his words.

"Oh, this again," his mother remarked, capturing the recurrent theme with a note of weariness.

Unyielding, his aunt probed further, "You don't feel like maybe one day you might need to protect yourself?"

He chuckled dismissively, "From what. Whenever I'm going anywhere, Mom makes either Rosie or Richard escort me. And it's not like they could do anything if need be,"

"So, what kind of trouble could I possibly get into where I'll need to protect myself with martial arts?" he questioned, a trace of skepticism tainting his words. The sip of water that followed punctuated his sentiments.

"Well, Max, as I've reiterated countless times, things have changed. Many now pursue martial arts not merely for protection but for its artistry," his mother chimed in, carving a piece of steak with precision.

"I agree," his aunt concurred, a glance at his mother accompanied by a nod underscoring her alignment with this sentiment. "I think it's actually great you let him take the class."

"What!?" Max exclaimed, caught off guard by the unexpected alignment of opinions. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"Yeah, but this time I actually agree with your mom," his aunt confessed, unfazed as she took a forkful of potatoes.

Max, a slight frown etching his features, redirected his gaze toward his meal, contemplating the array of veggies before him. The tension in the air, a subtle interplay of opinions, lingered.

"So, what kind of martial arts classes do you take?" His aunt, seemingly seeking common ground, redirected the conversation.

Max, having finished chewing his veggies, responded with a newfound energy, "Karate and Muay Thai classes."