“I remember feeling that way when I was young. Down south.” Mr. Washington seemed to drop into a momentary reverie, then clapped a hand on Rashid’s shoulder so firmly that it made him jump, resting it there for a moment. “Mr. Bryson. I learned of your brother’s misfortune, and I wanted to caution you not to let your loss interfere with your studies here.” He paused for a moment. When he continued, his voice was husky. “I have felt sadness much as yours. But I always remembered that I had been given a rare opportunity one that very few Negroes are granted. Just as you have been. It is important that you make the most of it. If I am hard on you in class, it is out of my belief that knowledge fought for is knowledge best remembered. I would suggest, as you go through your time here at Chelsea, that you adopt the attitude of the Stoics, maintaining a disciplined mind that nothing can harm. I think that you will find that to be the best course as you pursue your studies here.”

Mr. Washington’s hand remained on Rashid’s shoulder throughout this speech, tightening slightly as he reached points that he wanted to emphasize, but his gaze was focused on the middle distance, as though he couldn’t bear to look Rashid in the eye. Rashid didn’t know what freaked him out more—having Washington know about Kofi, that hand on his shoulder, or the peculiar way he was talking. He was too stunned to ask a single question—it was crazy to think that no one else would ever find out about Kofi anyway. Mr. Washington seemed to think that he was helping—but his eyes were far away. It was as if he was talking to someone else. “Um … okay, Mr. Washington. I know that this is a great chance. I don’t intend to blow it.”

“One thing more.” What more could there be? thought Rashid. “You have a great gift, Mr. Bryson. I have never seen a natural runner like you. I think with the proper coaching, you could excel to an extraordinary degree. Even perhaps compete at the highest level. I’d like to work with you a little outside the team practices, if I may.”

By now, they had reached the buildings and boys were beginning to surge past them on both sides. They stood, facing each other. “You would?” said Rashid. He heard his voice squeak a little, but he couldn’t control it.

“Absolutely. Come by my office so we can discuss some extra workout times.” Mr. Washington paused. “I might even run along with you sometimes. That can be a great encouragement.”