"Do you have to be rich to have a car like this?"
Malik looked toward the Ferrari.
Then toward the boy.
He remembered being nine years old in his father's garage, holding a magazine with a photograph of a red sports car.
For a moment, he could almost hear Samuel laughing.
He smiled.
"Cars like this are expensive. But you don't have to be rich to enjoy learning about them."
The boy nodded.
Malik continued.
"And you don't need an expensive car to be somebody important."
The child looked confused.
Malik pointed toward the old toolbox.
"My dad was a mechanic. He spent his whole life fixing other people's cars."
The boy looked toward the tools.
"Was he rich?"
Malik shook his head.
"No."
Then he smiled.
"But he was one of the best men I've ever known."
For several seconds, the boy was quiet.
Then he asked whether Malik's father taught him how to repair cars.
Malik nodded.
"Sure did."
The child's face brightened.
"Can you show me something?"
Malik laughed.
"With your parents' permission, absolutely."
The boy grinned.
Then hurried home to ask.
Malik watched him ride away.
For a moment, he felt tears gathering.
He looked down at the old wrench in his hand.
And remembered the day his father placed a similar tool in his palm.
Knowing you don't know something is how you start learning.
Malik smiled.
Then whispered, "You would've liked that kid, Dad."
Denise appeared at the garage doorway a few minutes later.
She carried two glasses of lemonade.
Malik looked up.
"Thanks, Mom."
She handed him one.
Then admired the Ferrari.
"You know, your father would've spent all day looking at this thing."
Malik laughed.
"He did."
She smiled sadly.
For a moment, they stood together.
Then Denise looked toward the street.
"I heard Victoria moved."
Malik nodded.
"Yeah."
His mother considered that.
Then asked, "How do you feel?"
For several seconds, Malik remained quiet.
He looked toward the Ferrari.
The driveway.
The house.
And the neighborhood he'd refused to leave.
Then he answered.
"Better."
Denise smiled.
"Good."
Malik took a breath.
"I used to think I'd feel better when everybody knew she was wrong."
His mother waited.
He continued.
"But I think what matters more is that the company is changing and those homeowners are getting answers."
Denise nodded.
For a moment, her eyes filled.
Then she touched his shoulder.
"Your father would be proud."
Malik looked toward the toolbox.
He smiled.
"I hope so."
She laughed softly.
"Oh, I know so."