Martin got to his feet. “Can I speak to you for a moment?” he asked Anna, nodding toward the far end of the warehouse.

“Jesse, please have a seat here and I’ll be right with you,” she said. “You can look at my sketch for the mural.”

She walked with Martin nearly to the end of the warehouse.

“I’m not leaving you here alone with him,” he said quietly.

“Why? Do you know something about him?”

“No, but you can’t stay here alone with that boy.”

“And why on earth not? Plus my other helpers will be here in an hour or so.”

“It’s not right and it’s not safe.”

“Ridiculous,” she said.

“I’m not leaving until your other students come.”

“Yes,” she said. “You are.” Who did he think he was? Her father? This close to him, she thought she could smell alcohol on his breath. It was not even one in the afternoon. “This is my space and I make the rules.” She couldn’t believe she was speaking to him that way, but she liked the strength in her voice. “I appreciate your help and your concern, but I really do insist you leave.” She worried their voices had gotten too loud and the boy might hear them. She glanced toward him. He seemed engrossed in studying her sketch.

“It’s your neck on the line,” Martin Drapple said. “Not mine.”

He walked the length of the warehouse, flung his jacket over his shoulder, and left without saying good-bye. Jesse never even looked up from the sketch.

Anna walked over to the table.

“So,” she said, sitting down across from him. She was trembling slightly after the altercation with Martin, but pleased she’d held her own. “What do you think of the sketch?” she asked.

“You like red a lot.”

“I guess I do.” She smiled. “Do you think I’ve used it too much? The red?”

He smiled too, his gaze still on the sketch. His teeth showed. White, straight, with a slight space between his front teeth, and Anna realized who he reminded her of: Dabney Johnson from her high school in Plainfield. A big, shy, unassuming boy who did little to impress until you saw him play basketball.

“I think you ain’t used it enough,” Jesse said, his tone teasing, and she laughed.

“How about the composition?” she asked, wondering if he even knew what the word meant. He did.