She had tasted freedom now, and so far she had not felt the need of protection. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. She auditioned and got a summer job teaching violin at the Mozart summer music camp for children, catching the luckiest of breaks. It was his heart. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it was in view. "There he is!" "I fear not," said her father, with a doubtful shake of the head. She met his eye for a moment in curious surprise. She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. They parked a block away from Michelle’s house in the opposite direction of where the Beck’s lived. If I told you the facts, I expect, since you are in love with me, you’d explain the whole business as being very fine and honorable for me—the Higher Morality, or something of that sort.
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