Carter sighed, questioning his decision to bring Burke into the field, and said, “Fine. Let’s take your car, and I’ll ride with you.”

The kid’s eyes went wide, but before he could say anything, Carter added, “I’ll give you a minute to clean it out.”

Five minutes later, they were on the road inside Burke’s 1967 Firebird two-door coupe. The paint looked new—a deep and dark metallic red, almost burgundy or maroon, which reminded Carter of a glass of French wine—and the motor rumbled so loudly Carter could barely hear his own thoughts.

“What kind of engine is in this thing?” he asked.

“I replaced the original Pontiac 400 with a crate LSX454R.”

Carted nodded, having no idea what Burke was talking about. “What kind of horsepower?”

“776.”

“I had a good friend who had this 1969 Mustang that was fastest thing on the road when we were kids. He told me it had 320 horsepower.”

“Then my Firebird has 242.5 percent more horsepower than your friend’s car.”

“I’ll take your word on it.”

“I did some research about you online,” Burke said.

“Oh, really. Why exactly did you do that?”

“The more I know about a person, the more I can understand and predict their behavior.”

“Find anything juicy that I should know about?”

“Define juicy.”

“Did you learn anything about me that you didn’t already know?”

“I didn’t know that your wife is deceased. Or that she was a white woman.”

“Do you have a problem with a black man and a white woman getting married?”

“Absolutely not. You just asked if I learned anything about you. That’s what I learned. I actually think that racial mixing should be encouraged. People have enough things that divide them and cause them to be persecuted or bullied; the world would be a better place if we were all mixed race. Think of how much more we could accomplish as a society if we didn’t have to worry about the color of our skin or our outward appearances.”

Carter shrugged. “We would just find another way to divide ourselves. That’s a terrible misconception we’ve created in our world today. We want to eliminate our differences because we think that everyone should be treated fairly. But eliminating diversity and miscegenation or mixing of races, that diluting down of our cultural heritage, is not the answer to combatting racism and bigotry.”

“Then what is the answer?”

“Ubuntu.”

Burke pulled out onto the highway, traveling at precisely the speed limit. “Like the Linux-based operating system?”

“No, the philosophy. And why do you have such a fast car with all that horsepower if you always drive the speed limit?”

“I take it to a closed track. Plus, it’s the condom principle.”

“Excuse me?” Carter said.

“You know, I’d prefer to have all that speed and not need it, than need it and not have it. The condom principle. What’s Ubuntu?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain. We’re all different, and it’s human nature for us to divide ourselves into groups. It’s a conditioned response because there’s strength in numbers. It makes us feel at home and secure. I’m a Yankees fan, which means that I hate the Red Sox. That doesn’t mean that I feel the need to ram my fist through the face of every person I see wearing a Red Sox T-shirt. When I was a kid, I always dreamed of playing for the Yankees.”