She had agreed to coming to the dance, but said her parents would drive her there, so they could meet all of us. Probably a bit unsure of what a dance...like this would be; maybe they were concerned about Lori’s new friends. Friday evening, I got dressed for the dance; it was being run by the local Methodist church; the same group that had their ‘gospel service’ on the second Sunday of each month in the Memorial Hall. The minister – the Reverend Gough – wanted to have a modern, revival style. He’d died trying to take care of them.After years in low-rent housing, struggling to keep a life going for them, even spending a year in a shelter, Laura’s mom, almost as beautiful as Laura, had re-married for money. “Love doesn’t keep a roof over your head,” she’d told Laura.When we finally got dressed, we walked out through a hung-over crowd that watched us with one collective eyebrow raised.Laura stopped at the door and gave me a lingering kiss. She whispered, “Stay a hero.”Then she was. More

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