A story about a beach in Maine, a pseudo spy, beer, and jalapeño and green pepper jam
Other than the attaché handcuffed to his wrist he looked like any other vacationing camper. Joe Spy, that’s the nickname we gave him that summer in Maine at Hermit Island Campground.
We were staying at Western Reach 13, our favorite site, and for supplies we would wander down to the Kelp Shed. To get to the Kelp Shed we had to pass by the beach camp sites and that’s were we first encountered Joe Spy. Every time we saw him he had an attaché case handcuffed to his wrist.
Joe Spy didn’t go swimming or to the beach, in fact, he never left the campsite. We knew this because we could see his campsite from ours on top of the hill. If we said hello he would look up, :: Follow Gromit’s tracks for more