“But they’ll all have the same yellow trim,” Dr. C said, as we carried cans of paint from the trunk of his car to the porch of the building we were supposed to be painting.

Josh put the cans down and wiped his forehead with his T-shirt. “How come? I mean, why not just have them be totally different?”

“I like the symbolism,” Dr. C said.

Josh looked at me.

I shrugged. “What does the yellow symbolize?”

“It’s not about the color,” Dr C said like this was completely obvious. “It’s about the connection.”

“Oh,” Josh said. “I get it.”

“You do?” I said.

“Not really,” he whispered.

“Come on, guys. Think! It’s not that deep. You, me.” He thumped his paint-splattered, Hawaiian-shirted chest. “We’re different, right?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“But we’re still connected, right?”

“Yeah?” I still didn’t get it.

He threw his hands in the air. “Community! It symbolizes community!” Then he walked off to get more paint.

“Oh, I guess I see now,” Josh said.

I did too, but I was pretty sure nobody else would unless Dr. C explained it to them as well. Maybe he could write an article about it for the paper.

As Josh and I painted the side of the building a blue-green color Dr. C called “teal,” Josh told me all the new stuff he’d learned about the Tea King. He’d become a walking, talking Alhaadi Okello Wikipedia page.

“Listen to this quote I found.” He put down his brush and took out his phone. “‘I love to compete. I hate my competitors. You really have to love to compete to be successful in business.’”

For my sake, I hoped that wasn’t true. “He sounds like Jeanine. Just remove ‘business’ and insert ‘Geo Bee.’”

“Think about it. This guy came here with only two hundred dollars and a suitcase full of tea leaves, and look at what he’s done. And this… I don’t know, I feel like he’s saying, to succeed, he had to be tough, to want to fight, you know, like he was prepared to do whatever it took.”

“He’s like a business action hero. I can see the movie trailer now.”

Josh laughed. “But he is, kind of, you know? I mean, he’s a total hero to the people who live in that town.”

I’d been joking, but I was with Josh. Even though nobody would ever make a movie about Alhaadi Okello, the Tea King was a hero.

“Hey, did you read that stuff I sent you?”

“I read some of it.” I’d still be reading if I’d read everything Josh had found on Okello.

“Did you read that interview he did with the Albany Times?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You need to read that one. Okay?”

“Okay,” I promised.

• • •

At dinner that night, I could barely keep my eyes open. Between getting up at 5:30 that morning to make doughnuts before school, a full day of classes, working at The Doughnut Stop, and then painting in the heat, I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed. The problem was when I got up from the table, I didn’t have the energy to drag myself up there.