"Did you feel that coma boy? Your daddy's dead and you need to cinch your balls up and step up, son!" She said.

"Owww!"

She cocked back to slap me again.

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"No, no, no,no! Okay, I'm listening, tell it to me from the top, what was dad into and what can I do?"

"Have you ever lost a sock in the wash?" the man asked.

"Sure."

"It was them."

"Them?"

"The Hose heisters, numb nuts!" my mother growled. "It's psychological warfare. They've put more moms on psychotropic drugs than all the midlife crises of the modern world combined! They use it to their advantage, then they turn them, while they're weak," she said.

"So, when a sock goes missing, that's not just some weird thing, that's Russian spies? On purpose?"

"Yes! While Washington chases after Facebook Bot Farms, the Russians are driving middle America mad with missing socks," my mother said. "Your father was the front line of defense."

"And now we want you to take his route," the man said.

"Why? Aren't there other agents?" I asked. "I've got a job. I like my job."

"Listen to me, boy," my mother said. "If you don't take this seriously, the Russians win."

"Win?" I asked.

"What their immigrant prodigy running Google can't do, they'll finish," the woman said.

"Aw come on, you're joking, right?" I said.

"You think I'd joke about what happened to your father?" my mom asked. "I loved that man!"

"Look, kid," the man said. "We need your help. You know this neighborhood. People will trust you. We've been prepping you for this job since you were a kid."

"What?" I asked.

"You didn't think daddy just liked you on the route with him, did you?" my mom asked.

"Yeah, but he never said anything about socks," I said. "This whole thing is just way too weird."

"You never wondered why he spent so much time teaching you to match your socks? Even the plain white ones?" My mother asked.

Hours. I'd sat for hours once, with seven pairs of plain white tube socks, all seemingly identical, trying to pair them up so I could go roller skating with my friends.

"Son, it may not seem important now, but this skill is going to come in handy some day," he said, after I successfull matched 5 out of 7 and ran out the door, just as my ride pulled up.

What if they were telling the truth. Did it really matter? Did I really care? Would they let me walk away, no matter how I felt?

"Do I have a choice?" I asked.

"Not today," my mother said. "Avenge your father, then, we'll talk about it."

"All right, I'm in," I said.

Everyone was all smiles.

The man stuck out a huge hand, "I'm Gerald, welcome aboard."

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