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CHAPTER TENOn Sunday afternoon, Ernesto checked on the computer and found that the 1992 Volvo was still available for five hundred dollars. Ernesto had saved four hundred dollars from birthday and Christmas gifts. Now he added another hundred from working at the pizzeria. Ernesto’s father drove him to the small used car lot so that he could look at the car. He knew his friends, and especially Clay Aguirre and his gang, would laugh at him if he bought the Volvo. But he needed a reliable car for the time being. The ad said the car worked well, and Ernesto liked that. He didn’t have money for costly repairs.
“There’s the place, Ernie,” Dad noted, slowing down. About fifteen cars were on the lot, all of them old. The lot was not high end. It was a place where poor people and kids came
