Stephen Clark and his friends, including Daniel, say we shouldn’t be so focused on race. “That’s the only way to achieve a truly colorblind society.” But Stephen Clark and his lackeys don’t know what it’s like to live near people that hate you because of the color of your skin. Daniel must know deep down, but he erases it, offering himself instead to the fangs of the status quo.

The worst part is you don’t know who is a host carrying the contagion of racism. It could be your doctor or your dentist. The lunch server whose smile disappears just a little too quickly when they see your shining Black face. Or the CVS cashier who just happens to be fixing price tags in all of the aisles where you and your Black friends are shopping. Here, the hills really do have eyes. Here, I know they are watching.

I don’t want to think about race on this trip, however. I just want to drift like a leaf in the wind for once—not in the direction of any lurking serial killers or racists, of course—carefree and unbothered. I remember my session with Jennifer yesterday, connecting again to the bounty of healing waiting for me. I turn to Earnell, who is bouncing up and down next to me as the bus drives over uneven terrain, and sigh. “You know what we should do,” I say. “We should skip through the woods like Goldilocks looking for the three bears just to have a taste of natural freedom. We should ditch the white people and make our own Call Ceremony like Baby Suggs in Beloved. You’d make a great Call preacher, Earnell.”

Earnell looks at me with the glare of a thousand ancestors and says, “Nigga, have you lost your cotton-picking mind? I am not about to engage in a display of Black unity in the woods of fucking New Hampshire! That Christian white boy has confused you and infected you with his blue-eyed savior. Remove that ‘messiah’ from your wall. Jesus didn’t die for you. He died for them. He’s a portal to prosperity for them and look at the spoils they have reaped. They are the chosen ones. We, merely lambs to slaughter.”

“Jeez, Earnell. Can you be more depressing? We’re supposed to be having fun. Besides, you can’t be chosen or exceptional if you maimed and killed to get the glory. Righteousness has to be earned righteously. Philippians 3:9.”

“Sure, Dr. King,” he says dismissively. “Well, my strategy is to be quiet and vigilant at all times during this trip. I’d advise you to do the same.”

My eyes squint in skepticism and my lips curl up with doubt just like Gary Coleman in Diff’rent Strokes right before he says, “What you talkin’ ’bout, Willis?”

“You?! Quiet?! I’ll believe it when I see it.”