Martin Adagio

Martin Adagio was a mouse of small stature both physically and socially. His plain tailored clothes and patched vest were a result of his mother’s hard work as a seamstress, while his presence in Martino Leoni’s pool hall was a result of his father’s compulsive gambling habits. An earthquake of anxiety began to shake him as he approached Martino Leoni who was sitting at a booth with two of his associates, a surly-looking zebra and a shifty-eyed bear. Martin removed his cap out of respect. Martino brushed some of his oiled mane out of his face, focused his amber eyes on the quivering Martin, and said gruffly, “May I help you?”

Martin’s internal Richter Scale jumped to a 6.8.

“P-please, sir. My n-name is M-Martin Ad-dagio. My father is—ahem!—Sabatino Adagio. H-he owes you a d-debt.”

“And a large one at that,” Martino said. “Are you here to pay it off on his behalf?”

Martin hesitated.

“Please Signore Leoni, my family is very poor. Please give me a chance to earn back my father’s debt. I am a better poker player than he is.”

“Why should I do that?” the lion asked. “When I promise to do something I follow through on that promise. The word of a Leoni is sacred. Why should the word of an Adagio be any different?”

“Signore, the word of an Adagio is sacred too, but we are very poor. We would not be so if my father had not gambled away all our money. Please. I implore you!” Martin pleaded.

Martino fell into a skeptical silence. His eyes scanned young Martin Adagio. This caused Martin to shirk back in near terror as the lion sized him up. Martin found himself fumbling with his tail as he was one to do whenever he felt nervous. Finally Martino cleared his throat and spoke.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’m in a generous mood today. I will give you a chance to earn back your father’s debt.”

“Oh thank you sir! Thank you! Thank you!” Martin cried out in joy.

“But we won’t be playing poker. We’re going to leave it entirely up to chance.”

Martino pulled from his pocket two translucent red dice.

“Okay,” he said, “here are the rules. We each roll and whoever rolls the lower die wins. If you win I erase your father’s debt. If I win, though, I double your father’s debt and your whole family has to work for me until it’s paid off. You agree to my terms?”

Martino extended a large furry hand. Martin’s smaller and hairless hand reached out and shook it.

“Fine. On my count. Ready?” Martino said handing Martin a die. “One, two, three.”

The mouse and the lion let the dice fly from their hands. Martino’s die rattled around the table a bit before revealing a two. Signore Leoni bore a satisfied smirk. Martin’s die skitted off the table and onto the floor. Martino craned his neck slightly to see what had been rolled.

“Ha! A six!” he laughed. “Your father’s debt is doubled and I own you know.”

“Pardon me, signore,” Martin said timidly. “But you said the lower die wins?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Well you may have the rolled the smaller number, but my die is lower than yours. So according to your rules my father’s debt is cleared.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Martino said.

“It is what you said though, signore,” Martin said softly.

“He does have a point, Martino,” the lion’s zebra associate said. “You did say ‘lower.’”

“But that’s not what I meant. He’s manipulating what I said.”

“There wasn’t a rule against that,” the bear chimed in.

“Be quiet! The both of you! This is none of your business,” Martino snapped.

“But what’s this boy to you?” the bear continued. “Clear his father’s debt and let him be on his way. Or is the word of a Leoni not sacred any more?”

Martino glared at Martin, causing the mouse to squeeze his tail tightly, before finally saying, “Fine! Just go. Tell your father that his debt is forgiven.”

“Oh, thank you, signore! Thank you! Thank you!” Martin exclaimed joyously, bowing his head repeated as he backed away. When he reached the door of the pool hall he turned around and ran home to tell his father.