My Dad Was A Spy

My dad was a spy.

Growing up I was certain-

We would be out messing with our small herd of 4H sheep-

Moving rocks for mom-

Splitting and stacking firewood-

And

I would ask questions about his job-

He was vague.

Rephrasing, searching for detail-

I’d ask about coworkers.

Trying to catch him up.

Asking about meetings.

Waiting for him to slip-

OH NO

.he.was.so.chill.

Never, EVER gave anything away

NOW

I am •almost• 100% positive

He is retired

BUT he >still< won’t crack.

Yet he continues to “hike the Appalachian Trail” which is clearly code for spy trip.

UGH.

Someday I will know all his secrets.

.

Let me tell you about one of my favorite customers-

I see at least once a week.

He buys a massive amount of bird seed and a Pepsi.

He explains that he worked for an agency with initials.

!Ekk!

He slips me stories

Every.single.time

Jerry Q.

Or at least that is what he tells me to call him.

Apparently, I have no problem getting some people to tell me their secrets.

.

What in the world would I do-

If they didn’t need me to stand behind the register-

At a farm store in the Midwest?