The globe has a small imperfection in the middle of Texas, and I wonder if it has been dropped or bumped.

“The most accurate map of the world is the AuthaGraph, invented by the Japanese architect Hajime Narukawa in 1999, which divides the planet into ninety-six triangles. This allows the land masses to be shown in their correct relationship to one another.”

It could also be a used globe that Oz has picked up in a secondhand store.

“The Mercator method tends to accentuate the size of ‘White’ countries.” Oz places a finger on Africa. “You can put all of the United States and China and India right here, along with Spain, France, Germany, and Italy with room to spare.”

We don’t have a globe at home, but I can imagine having one would be handy.

“So, you see, even a globe can be concerned with politics and race.”

Oz gets to his feet and shuffles to the buffet. I follow him. We move along the line, helping ourselves.

“Your wife? She is feeling better?”

“I think so.”

“But she is still asleep?”

I help myself to the sliced tomatoes and cucumbers.

“So, you will look again today for the uncle Leroy and the bundle?”

“How’s your friend’s game going?”

“The Bears are still winning,” says Oz. “But the Bees are organizing.”

THE WOMAN’S NAME was Bobbie Sherman Darnell.

“Bet you’re surprised to find a woman selling cars.”

I admitted that I was.

“Daddy owns the dealership,” Bobbie told me. “My husband’s normally here, but he’s off playing golf with the boys, so I got the keys to the kingdom.”

There were pictures on the wall of a large man in a football uniform, down in a three-point stance.

“That’s my husband, Buddy. Played ball for the University of Oklahoma Sooners. He was on the team that beat Maryland twenty to six for the national championship in 1955.” Bobbie grabbed two bottles from a small refrigerator in the corner. “Buddy never started. He played centre behind Jerry Tubbs. But coach let him in for a couple of plays towards the end of that game so it would be official.”

It was cool in the sales office, the air conditioner going, the radio tuned to a local station that was playing Bill Haley’s “Rock Around the Clock.”

“Buddy don’t care much for rock and roll. Hope you don’t mind.”

Clinton had a high school. It was on West Gary.

“I went there. Went to OU too. That’s where Buddy and I met.”

Over a cold RC, I told Bobbie I was looking for my father.

“Knew a Blackbird when Buddy and I were in Norman.” Bobbie flipped through the phone book but didn’t find any Blackbirds. “Doesn’t mean your folks weren’t here. People in Clinton come and go all the time.”