The Ballad of Dixon Bell

“Salvadore, you must go to class. You need these credits to graduate next year.”

“I know, Mama, I know. I’m going this afternoon. But I had a job this morning, unloading furniture at Joe’s. I earned fifty dollars. So this afternoon I’ll figure out how to do algebra.”

With another sigh she closed her eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. “The fifty dollars is nice. But you need a diploma to get a good job. In the long run, a diploma is worth a lot more than fifty dollars.”

He didn’t argue with her, just let her doze a little as he drove across town toward one of the brand-new subdivisions where her afternoon job was located. These big, new houses were easier to clean, she said, because they had all the modern conveniences. She didn’t work nearly as hard there.

Sal only wished she didn’t have to work at all.

They stopped for a fast-food lunch before he dropped her off at the big house on a street where all the trees were too young to make real shade. “I’ll be here at five,” he promised as she leaned in the window to give him a kiss.

“Go to class,” his mother ordered.

And because he promised her, he went. He was late, of course, which meant checking in through the office and getting a lecture from the secretary. School schedules never took into account that teenagers might have real lives. If he didn’t drive his mother to work, she couldn’t get there. If she didn’t get there, she didn’t get paid, and his brothers and sisters didn’t eat. That was a pretty simple equation, he thought. Maybe the algebra teacher could explain it to the front office.

After two hours of algebra, the teacher gave them a fifteen-minute break. Sal went in search of a cold drink and the one person who made him feel as if the future held promise for someone like him.

He found Kelsey lingering by the vending machines. The way her face lighted up when she saw him was worth all the hassle of going to summer school.

“Sal!”

“Hey, querida.” He put an arm around her waist, felt her yield to him with a surge of pride. She was gorgeous, she was sweet as candy, and she was his. “How are you?”

“Better, now. Where were you all morning?”

Sal didn’t like being questioned, but he did like it that she cared. “I had some work to do. Judging from the last two hours in class, I didn’t miss anything.”

He let go of her long enough to get a drink from the machine, then grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall after him. “Let’s get out of here for a few minutes.”

The afternoon was hot as hell, even in the shade of the tree they had chosen as their special place. Sal leaned back against the trunk and pulled Kelsey to stand between his legs, then took a long swig of his drink. “That’s better. You and a cold soda—that’s about as good as a summer day gets.”

“You’re so sweet.” She smiled at him, her brown eyes bright, her mouth full and soft. “You deserve a kiss.”

“You’re right. I do.” He took it, meaning to keep things light, but holding onto his control with Kelsey was becoming harder and harder. At least here they were out in public, where things couldn’t go too far.

Too public, it turned out.

“Mr. Torres, Miss LaRue…must I remind you again about the school rules prohibiting public displays of affection?”

Kelsey gasped and stepped away from him as Sal opened his eyes to see the principal glaring at them from barely ten feet away.

The big man crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the asphalt. “Well?”

“No, sir.” Sal straightened up and sidled out from underneath the tree branches. “You don’t have to remind us.” They’d been caught last Friday afternoon, but that was inside the building. Sal had hoped being outside would keep them off the radar, so to speak.

“One more incident, and I will notify your parents and assign both of you detention. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“As it is, you are going to be late for class.” The bell rang to emphasize his point. “Your teachers may be assigning detention, as well.”

A glance at Kelsey as they trailed Principal Floyd into the building showed Sal her red face, her scared eyes. He understood her fear—if the principal talked to her dad about him, Kelsey would have hell to pay. Hard as it was, for her sake, he would have to keep his hands off her during school hours.

But school hours took up so damn much of the day. After class, he picked up his mother, took her to the grocery, helped her at home with the younger children. By the time he got free, Kelsey’s curfew was in effect. He’d spent a lot of evenings this summer watching movies with her at her house. At most, they found enough privacy for a good-night kiss. He wanted more…and yet more would just get them into trouble.

Couldn’t anything in life be simple?

He saw Kelsey again after class ended for the day. This time, the complications came in the form of her little brother walking down the hall beside her. Trace LaRue had inherited his dad’s redneck attitude. He hated Sal on the principle that he was Hispanic, which made them about even, because Sal hated Trace on the principle that he was a bigoted jerk.

So he made sure to demonstrate how things stood between him and Kelsey every chance he got. “Hey, beautiful,” he said as he reached her, putting an arm around her waist. “Missed you.” He bent to kiss her cheek.

“Sal!” She drew away. “Remember what Mr. Floyd said.”

“I remember.” He pushed open the door and ushered her ahead of him out of the building, then let the heavy panel swing back on Trace. “But we’re out of school now. The big man is watching the bus line in back. We’re safe.” Lifting her thick blond hair in one hand, he placed a kiss on the nape of her neck.

A hand grabbed Sal’s shoulder and jerked him around. “Take your hands off her, Spic.” Red-faced and sweating, Trace looked just like his old man when he got mad.

Sal shoved back. “Make me.”

Before either of them could move, Kelsey pushed in between them. “No, you will not. Neither of you is gonna start a fight at school over me. Do you hear? I swear, Sal, if you take this any further, I won’t see you or talk to you again for…for…for weeks. Is that what you want? Is fighting Trace worth it?”

He was tempted to take the boy on in spite of her warning. No woman told him what to do. But…

Sal knew he couldn’t live without seeing Kelsey. She kept him sane, gave him a reason to get up in the morning.

“Go,” he said through clenched teeth, with a nod across the parking lot to the Volvo where their mother sat waiting. “Just go.”

Trace grabbed Kelsey’s arm. “You heard the jerk. Let’s go.” She went with her brother, looking back over her shoulder at Sal the whole time.

Sal watched them drive off, then went to his own car and sat in the heat, fuming. The situation was impossible—he and Kelsey should have the right to see each other without so many hassles. He was beginning to think they would have to change the whole world, just to be together.

But this afternoon, changing the whole world looked like way too big a job for one Hispanic kid to handle on his own.

KATE WAS BETTER PREPARED to face L.T. when he came to get the children for breakfast on Saturday morning.

She opened the door and managed a smile as she stepped back to let him in. “Good morning.” Beyond him, she could see his girlfriend…mistress?…fiancée?…waiting in the car at the end of the walk.

“Are they ready?” He went across the hall toward the living room, but stopped on the threshold. “What happened to the furniture?”

“I’ve done some rearranging, that’s all.”

“Why the hell would you do that? You’ve got the dining-room table in the wrong place. Who wants to eat in here?”

“I thought we might enjoy our meals with a fire in the fireplace, come winter. Especially for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. And this way, we can sit on the love seat by the big window at the other end and look out at the garden. It’s just an experiment.”

“I think it’s a disaster. Put the furniture back the way it’s supposed to be.”

She drew a deep breath. “L.T., you don’t live here anymore, so it really doesn’t matter what you think. Trace and Kelsey and I like this arrangement, so it’s going to stay this way until we want to change it.”