it all,” observed Mother dryly.
“Thanks, just the same, ladies. I don’t really need anything else. It’ll be lunchtime soon and Connie’s bringing something to the office for me.
“Who is behind this nonsense, Andy?” insisted Mother waving the injunction like a banner. “Jimmy Hershey’s been a friend for fifty years. I can’t believe he signed this ridiculous piece of paper. What’s going on?”
Andy shook his head slowly.
“I’m not really sure what’s going on. Seems to me like it would be a good idea to let those guys help out. Everybody else in town is swamped, and I know the Mexicans need the money. Most of the tobacco crop was wiped out by the storm, and they don’t have anything else to do right now. They don’t make much money in the best of times, and what they do make most of ’em send it back regular to their families. Two months without work could make a big difference, and it’ll be at least that long before plantin’ time. But I guess their contractor won’t let ’em do any outside work.”
Andy looked acutely uncomfortable. That was a long speech for him and I was sure he felt like he’d said too much. I probably should have let it go at that, but he had said something that piqued my interest.
“Contractor? I thought these men were independents who went wherever there was a need for laborers.”
“I’m not just exactly sure how it works,” said Andy, “but from what I’ve gathered, it’s a lot more organized than that. This bunch here definitely has a labor contractor. He brings ’em in from Mexico, sets ’em up with a work permit, finds ’em a job and a place to live, and sends ’em back home when their work permits expire.”
Mother was quick as a bunny. “The labor contractor must be the person who got Jimmy Hershey to sign the injunction,” she guessed.
Andy turned a bright telltale red from his neck to his ears. “I’m sorry, Miz Sterling. I’m just the bearer of bad tidings. I’m not at liberty to say any more. I’ve said enough already,” he added under his breath.
He stood up and brushed the biscuit crumbs from his starched uniform shirt.
“Gott’a be going. Thanks again for the breakfast. It really hit the spot.”
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