Dear Mom,

How’s things back at home where the fences are for keeping the dogs in and the greatest danger is passing out when you see the grocery bill?

Me? I’m out here in my new job. Remember when I told you I was applying for a government job and you told me the only one I might qualify for was the post office?

Well, surprise! I joined ICE. The immigration custom enforcement. If we can’t find something to enforce, we’ll customize it. Something like that. I think that’s what it means.

No place I’ve ever worked has treated me better.

Not the janitor job. Not the busting rocks at the quarry or the tank cleaner at the septic company. And it’s the most I’ve ever been paid. Sixty thou a year will buy a lotta beer!

I’ve only been here for about a month. The people in charge told me I’m a genuine hero now, Mom! Shielding America from the terrifying hoard of immigrants who fled hellholes thinking they want a shot at a good life. Ain’t like that is our fault, right? We didn’t force ‘em to come here.

That woman that wears a cowboy hat was on the Zoom and said we were all patriots. Someone said she shoots herself in the foot so much you’d think she was wearing hush puppies and that got a couple laughs. I don’t get it.

Nobody said this job was gonna be easy. Someone’s gotta be the hero so that the rest of us can all sleep soundly behind our locked doors, fully stocked gun safes, guard dogs and motion sensor security cameras.

I thought I’d share with you what my life is like as a valued member of my crew.

Getting up at the crack of dawn, I make my way to the breakfast area of the motel we’re holed up in. The rest of us are there slugging down waffles and coffee that tastes like burnt watered down ashtray. Once we get that out of the way we set out for another round of protecting our glorious homeland. It’s like that movie Police Academy come to life!

Today, we nailed it first thing this morning.

Spotted a van driven by a menace named Maria. A 42-year-old monster with three kids in the back.

She said she’d lived here forever, but didn’t have any paperwork showing that she has.

But who cares about details when there is a three thousand arrests per week quota to be hit.

We all swooped in like the professionals we are. Busted the windows and cut the seatbelts. Pried those brats from her arms quicker than you can say “family dispersal”. Shuttled the little ones off to one of those five-star child-care camps they say we have.

From what I hear those places are a paradise, Mom. They get those shiny mylar blankets, lukewarm juice boxes and a lesson that America ain’t for poor losers.

No forms to fill out. Appeals disappear into thin air. Justice? That’s for suckers who believe in fairy tales like “equal protection under the law.”

Heroic stuff, right? Stomping hearts and families to keep the dream only for us taxpayers. What a rush!

Here’s an example.

Last week, I got a guy shipped back to wherever because of a form with a smudged signature that looked too “foreign.”

Or an epic bust of a birthday bash. We stormed in and rounded up the parents that didn’t run. While we were hauling them out a couple fellas shot up the pinata. Free candy! Ain’t that hilarious?

We’ve got the cool toys to make it all hum, too. Drones hovering like nosy neighbors. Facial recognition that tags grandma as a gangster. Databases stuffed fuller than your Thanksgiving turkey.

Privacy? That’s for people who ain’t got nothing to hide. Due process? Optional, like having desert if you deserve it.

There are a couple rules.

The one that works best is pick ‘em up for no papers and then also bust ‘em for faking papers. There ain’t no way out of that loop. It’s a masterpiece of central planning. Bureaucratic brilliance. All that time we were told big government was the problem. Now it’s the answer. Government. The cause of and the answer to all life’s problems.

We’ll all have more jobs for actual Americans. The companies, that never get penalized and keep hiring immigrants so that there is always a steady supply of low-wage workers, will now employ our countrymen and women. Countrypeople?

And thanks to the Miller guy that put this all in place. He kinda looks like a dweeb from junior high we used to beat up and take his lunch money. Small world ain’t it?

Anyway, Mom, duty calls. Another tour turning sinister scamming into handcuffs.

Tell Dad I said hi and keep calling your congressman to keep this high priced show funded.

Love you, and may “live free or die” morph into “submit or die”.

Your Patriotic Enforcer Son,

Cleetus

Hey! You made it until the end. Thanks for that.

Check out my detective novel. Also available on audiobook. The Lying Spiral

Follow me over her. Craig Tyson Adams

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