A Dime a Dozen by Mindy Starns Clark Read Free Book Online

because then nobody thinks I’m playing favorites.”
    He grinned and winked at Karen, and by her shy blush I guessed that there might be something more between them than simple friendship.
    “So what do you do when you’re not volunteering at Go the Distance?” I asked.
    He took a sip of iced tea and smiled.
    “I work over at Tinsdale Orchards,” he said. “I started out as general farm help, but lately I’ve been training on the forklift.”
    He went on to talk about the different jobs on the orchard, and I found the whole subject of growing apples fascinating. Clearly, there was much more to it than simply planting trees in a row and then picking the fruit when it was ripe! I sipped my own tea and listened as he talked about scabs and grafts and frost watches.
    “I could give you a tour sometime, if you’d like,” he said, and Karen nodded enthusiastically.
    “You really should tour the orchard, Callie,” she added. “It might give you a feel for what the migrants’ work entails. And Danny can explain the ways the migrants are essential to the whole process.”
    I agreed that a tour of an apple orchard might actually be the perfect way to begin my investigation, and we made tentative plans for me to meet Danny at Tinsdale Orchards the next afternoon.
    “While you’re out there,” another man said, “be sure to stop by Su Casa and say hello. Their facility is up behind the orchard.”
    “Su Casa?”
    “A nonprofit organization that builds dormitories for the migrant workers. My father runs it.”
    The man introduced himself as Butch Hooper, owner of Hooper Construction. He was a big man with a booming voice, genial if a bit intimidating.
    “My company works a lot with the Webbers too,” he added. “In fact, we built the MORE facility.”
    “Is Hooper Construction a nonprofit?” I asked.
    “Not intentionally,” he said, laughing.
    Dean joined our conversation, putting one hand on the man’s shoulder.
    “Don’t let Butch kid you, Callie,” Dean said. “He has a very successful construction company. But he always gives a big price break whenever he does work for us or one of our charities.”
    After chatting for a few more minutes, Dean led me around and introduced me to the rest of the people who were there, including the director of services for the migrant clinic and the coordinator of the local Head Start program. All in all, it was an impressive bunch, and I felt honored to be there in my own capacity. All of these migrant-related charities were connected to the Webbers’ charity, MORE. Hopefully, my investigation here would benefit them all.
    We eventually went outside and helped ourselves to the impromptu buffet. As I ate I talked with one person after another, and soon I realized I really had been able to relax. It was good to see everyone and to catch up on all of the family news. One by one, the charity directors finished eating and took their leave, and eventually I realized that all we were left with was family.
    Since it was a school night, those who had children departed right after dinner, and once they were gone things quieted down considerably. As I sat on the porch and took in the smells and sounds of a night in North Carolina, I was hit with a wave of familiarity so raw and so fresh that I might as well have been nine years old again and sitting on the front steps of my cabin at camp. As fireflies blinked in the darkness and gentle waves lapped at the dock, I closed my eyes and went back into the past, wondering how I could’ve survived a full two years without coming here to this place that was like my second home.
    As vividly as if it were yesterday, I could recall the first year I returned to Camp Greenbriar as a junior counselor, the year I turned 16. Like me, many of the counselors came from other states, but the camp also employed plenty of local teens—including one particularly cute fellow named Bryan Webber. During the afternoon sessions, Bryan was in charge of