was born a year later.
When Hector was ten years old, they moved to Hibbing, which was near a manufacturing plant. At first, Hector loved living in a small town, but once he became a teenager, he realized there wasn’t a lot for him to do, so he shuttered himself in the basement, where he learned to play video games. When he turned sixteen, he spent his summers mowing lawns and became a part-time employee of a landscaping service. His parents let him spend half of his own money on the games, insisting he save the other half for college. When Hector was in high school, it became clear that the family could not afford to send him and his sister away to college, so Hector decided to look into getting a degree in electronics through an online course of study. At least there would be no room-and-board fees, except what he gave his parents every month from his various jobs. His sister got a scholarship to a state college and worked as a waitress to help pay for her room and board.
The family wasn’t poor, but they understood the importance of saving money and not being irresponsible about spending. Besides, Hector actually liked living at home. His mother was an excellent cook, specializing in many originally Cuban recipes, and his father was a great musician, playing guitar and serenading the family on Sunday afternoons. Friends and neighbors would stop by often. Some would bring instruments, and they would have jam sessions on the front porch. If it weren’t for the boredom, Hector would have liked it just fine. Miami was too big, and Hibbing was just a little too small, but for now it was home. And he had a friend a few blocks away. Even if he couldn’t hang out with her.
Chapter Nine
Mitchel Haywood slumped down in his car as the police officer drove past. He guessed that the cop knew he was sitting in the driver’s seat, but he didn’t want to be too obvious. He couldn’t tell if the cop had seen his face. Yeah, the cop could run his plates. But so what if he did? You can’t arrest a guy for sitting in his car. Mitchel knew the rules. A hundred yards. He had measured it one night. In all directions. Same thing at the school. He wasn’t going to let that wretch ruin his life. And she sure wasn’t going to keep him from his kid. No. He’d figure out a plan.
He lit another cigarette and cracked open his thermos of coffee laced with bourbon. He checked his glove compartment to make sure he had the bottle of Listerine handy.
That was how he had gotten out of the past two DUI close calls. The only difference was that both of those times he didn’t have an open container in the car. When the flashing lights appeared in his rearview mirror, he had quickly grabbed for the mouthwash and taken a big swig. But he didn’t have an opportunity to spit it out so he had to swallow it. Man, did it burn. He had pulled his car over and rolled down the window. “Something wrong, Officer?”
“License, registration, and insurance, please.” The cop turned on his flashlight and waited.
“Of course.” He slowly reached up and pulled the registration and insurance from the visor clip. “My license is in my wallet. Give me a sec.” Mitchel wiggled his scrawny ass and pulled his wallet out of his back pocket. It was a bit of a juggling act, but he didn’t want to get out of the car unless the officer instructed him to do so. He fiddled with the wallet and handed his license to the cop.
“I noticed you rolled through that last stop sign.” The officer aimed the flashlight toward the back seat, then the front.
“So sorry. My foot must have eased off the brake.” Mitchel tried to act composed and sober.
“I see you live a few miles from here. I’ll let you go with a warning, but you need to follow the rules.” The officer handed back Mitchel’s ID and papers.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Mitchel proceeded to put the items back into place and waited, hoping the cop would leave before he did. He pulled out his phone and pretended to make a phone call. Since he was parked on the side of the road, he wasn’t breaking any laws. At least not for being parked where he was. A few minutes later,