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“Oh, he’s fantastic.Follow the yellow arrows.You’ll be great.Gotta run.”

And with that, Jay headed into the brilliant-and-brutal California sunshine.The heat hit me again in the brief moment the door was open, and I was very glad I hadn’t walked because I would’ve been soaked in sweat.Not a way to make a good first impression.

I smoothed my shorts, then set about searching for the yellow arrows.

As it turned out, the colored arrows were on the floor along with signs on the walls.I imagined being color blind would make the world of colored arrows more challenging, but they made it impossible for me to screw up.

Soon enough, I arrived at the mental and behavioral health department.

A lovely woman in a pale-blue pantsuit with pearls around her neck and in her ears greeted me.“I’m Violet, the administrative assistant.And you are?”

I took in her vibrant-red hair and soft-green eyes.Empathetic eyes.If I was judging correctly.God knew, though, I’d misread people in the past.“I’m Phillip Kaye.”

“Oh, you’re here to see Dr.Martin.I’ll let him know you’re here.”Her grin lit her eyes.“Thank you for filling out the questionnaire online.That makes things easier for everyone.”

“I don’t have insurance right now.”

She waved me off.“All taken care of.Anthony said he was working on something for you, right?”

“Uh, yeah.I just…this is all new to me.”

My mother hadn’t had insurance.Hadn’t trusted doctors despite needing the meds to keep her chronic condition manageable.Might she still have been alive if she had?I didn’t have a good answer to that question.In the end, what did it matter?Everyone died.Maybe she’d died earlier than she’d needed to.Hard to say.But that didn’t change my reality.

“Dr.Martin is ready to see you.”

Violet pulled me from my reverie and gestured for me to follow her down a hallway.She pointed to a door and, following her lead, I entered.

The man behind the desk moved forward and offered me his hand.“I’m Dr.Xavier Martin.”He shot a glance over my shoulder.“Thanks, Violet.”

“Sure thing.”She closed the door.

I shook the doctor’s hand.“I’m not a racist.”

He cocked his head as we let go of each other’s hands.“Why would you say that?We’ve barely met.”

“Because of where I’m from.”

Dr.Martin gestured for me to take a seat in an area off to the side.

I’d thought he’d sit at his desk, but he took a chair close to me.

I wanted to squirm, but I managed not to.

He offered a measured smile.“Phillip—you don’t mind if I call you Phillip, do you?”

“Uh, no.Of course not.”Because Mr.Kaye was my grandfather’s name and he was another man I wanted nothing to do with.

“Right.Phillip.I work very hard not to make any assumptions about my patients.I look at referrals, intake forms, and anything else that might arise, but I reserve impressions for when I meet them in person.”

I wrung my hands.“You know where I’m from.”

Slowly, the Black man nodded.“Not everyone from eastern Oregon is a racist.”

“We lived near the Idaho border in one of the last sundown towns in the US.”

“Okay, but I’m not?—”

“They were all racists.All of ‘em.Like, you just have no idea.”I gazed at him.“Or maybe you do.Maybe you’ve met tons of racists.Well, I grew up surrounded by them.And I know our little town.Not everyone out there was raised like I was, but trust me, you’d have been run out of that fucking place.”