In this world, my playlist had bands I had never heard of in my old world, and that probably didn’t even exist there. And for good reason. Their music was bland and soulless—tepid, that’s the word. Like stuff you’d hear playing in the background while the dentist drills on your molars. It had no passion—no forward momentum. It just spun in uninspired circles.

I found some “Black radio stations” but it seemed like rap and hip-hop never made an appearance here. Instead, it all felt stuck in the past. Just rehashed soul riffs that hadn’t evolved in fifty years.

I quickly came to realize that what passed for mainstream American culture here had no bite, no flavor. Mayonnaise blandness on all fronts. So, added to my shock was pity. I pitied the people who called this world home. People who couldn’t conceive of anything better.

I spent Saturday morning online, searching for Leo, terrified that I might not find him. That maybe he didn’t even exist. It was a pain that he had such a common name because there were hundreds of Leo Johnsons on social media. A lot of them showed no location on their profile, and could have been anywhere. It took hours of searching, but I finally did find him. I was relieved, but also troubled.

Leo still lived here in T-ville, and he worked at a supermarket. That much was on his profile. Finding which market he worked at took some legwork. Turns out it was a Publix on the white side of town. His family wasn’t supposed to shop there, but he could work there.

That afternoon, I went to find him.

I knew the Publix—it was one of the stores my family shopped at. Like everything else, it looked just a little bit different. I circled the block at least half a dozen times, building up the courage to actually park and go inside. Meanwhile, my current playlist featured a band called Amber Wave, which really should have been called Pea Green Hurl, because they were that bad. Finally I turned off the music and pulled into the lot to park. Even so, getting out of my car was like jumping off a high dive. I had to build up courage just to open the door and take the leap.

Once in the market, I saw Leo right away. He was the checker on register three. My heart sank to see him there, because I knew this wasn’t just a part-time job. His profile didn’t list a school.