If Jillian Wasn’t a Secret Agent
Summary:
We personally think Jillian Marshall shouldn’t have been a secret agent. So here’s how think Jillian’s life should’ve gone.
“I grew up in Minneapolis, Minnesota,” Jillian thoroughly explains to her precious friend Connie as they travel to their destination in northern Minnesota. Jillian needed to pick up antiques for Jason. “Really?” asked Connie as she pulled onto the highway. “Yes,” Jillian replied, “my parents weren’t around much when I was a child, and it wasn’t like we had a ton of money, so creating stuff with my imagination was a big part of my upbringing.” Connie stepped on the pedal with force to speed the vehicle up to the posted speed limit. It was her first time driving the car since she had gotten the repairs on it. “That’s really interesting, Jillian,” Connie said, turning away from the window and firmly saying, “My imagination got me into so much trouble, let me tell you a story.”
One day I woke up on my couch, which had been turned into a makeshift bed in my parents’ one-bedroom, one-bath apartment. From the looks of it, it seemed like it was going to be a normal day. I skipped breakfast, which was probably just a three-day-old stale doughnut one of my brothers had found in the lobby staff break room. It was Saturday, and I usually went to look for work to help my family. One thing was for sure: I never wanted to be in my parents’ situation.
I started at the park, where a lawn service is usually trimming and cutting the grass, but they weren’t there that day. As I was walking out of the park, I noticed something particularly peculiar happening in the north-west corner of the entrance: two men were exchanging something. Even though I couldn’t see what they were doing, I noticed that both of their faces were conveniently covered by their dark hats and coats.
I was curious, too curious. I carefully tiptoed over to the handoff point after they had left to see if anything had dropped. Something was there: a single bright green dollar bill laid on the ground parallel to the rendezvous point. I took it, of course, because I’d never gotten a dollar without working for it, so this was special for me. Unfortunately for me, I forgot about seeing these two men exchange whatever and kept right on with my day. That was my biggest mistake.
“Wait a minute, Jillian, I need to stop and get gas really quick.” Connie pulls into Pete’s Gas and Chow and pumps her gas. Then Jillian continues on, saying, “Connie, let me continue on…”
I went to the grocery store and picked out a whole stack of candy to buy with my shiny new dollar bill, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what happened next. When I gave the cashier my bill, he held it out and then went into the back. I didn’t know if this was normal or not since I had never bought anything before this. The cashier came back and nicely asked who gave me this dollar. I didn’t know what to say, so I told him that my father had given it to me. He asked me if I was sure, and I confirmed my story to him, not knowing what he was about to say next. The man behind the counter told me that this was a fake dollar bill and that my father and I would need to speak to the police.
Eventually I had to fearfully admit my true story; of course, I got in trouble for not telling the true story and was told that the fake dollar bill was from a counterfeiting ring.I didn’t know what that was until my father told me. My information helped shut down part of the scam, but even though I helped stop a counterfeiting ring, I found out that day that the whole secret agent/sneaking around thing wasn’t for me.
“Wow, Jillian, it sounds like you had a rough life.” Jillian replied, stating, “Connie, if I hadn’t grown up like that, I would’ve never been inspired to work hard for things.”
“I guess so” Connie said, as they pulled into the antique shop parking lot.
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