Newspaper Spies: Part 1 – From Behind the Paper

As I walked past a park bench, I had the oddest sensation that someone was looking at me. I looked to my right to see a person sitting there reading a newspaper. It was chilly and I wondered why they had chosen to sit outside on a day like today.

“Excuse me,” I asked them moving slightly closer so they would know I was referring to them. “But aren’t you cold?”

“No,” said a male voice. “I have a jacket. I like your scarf.”

“My scarf?” I blurted out. It took me a moment to realize that he hadn’t put the newspaper down. How had he seen it? I was about to ask him just that when he spoke again.

“Damn! I blew it again. I’ll never get this newspaper thing down!”

I took a half-step back. “Um sir, what are you talking about? Newspaper thing?”

The newspaper lowered to reveal a scruffy want-to-be beard and a head of curly dirty blonde hair belonging to a twenty-something man.  “The newspaper trick. Like in the old spy movies? Where they would sit in public places and look through their newspapers? Don’t you know about that?”

“Um, yes I do.” I was slightly taken aback. “But why? I mean why are you looking out from behind a newspaper?”

“It’s my thing for this month.” He said as if it was obvious.

“What thing?”

A look of understanding came across the man’s face, “Oh right, sorry. Every month I try to do something that I haven’t done before.”

“And I take it this month it is trying to be a spy?” I said, not fully understanding why this man was putting himself through this. Why not just go home and watch a film? Or talk with friends like a normal person?

The man looked at me as if he had heard my thoughts. Had he? He was kind of weird sitting out here in the cold on a bench looking through holes in a newspaper (which I could see now if I looked close enough). Maybe he could read minds.

“I know what you’re thinking.” And now he was trying to show me that he could, great! “I get that same look from everyone I talk to this about. You’re judging it and you don’t even know anything about it yet.”

“Oh really? Well you’re doing the same thing, thinking you know what I’m thinking.” I said despite the fact that he had done just that.

“Yes really. But I’ll give you a chance to prove me wrong if you want.” He said patting the place next to him on the bench with a hand red from the cold.

I hesitated, but not wanting to prove him right, I sat down next to him. “Okay, now what?”

“Here, I brought another newspaper just in case this one got damaged. You can have it if you like.” He held out a folded newspaper to me. I glanced at the head line, but it was celebrity nonsense.

“You want me to sit here and look through a newspaper with you?” I took the newspaper as I said it, though I thought it sounded like a waste of time.

“Unfold it and then I’ll poke holes in it for you. You have to be careful where you put them, otherwise it’s obvious.” He promptly poked holes just below the head line.

“Why not inside the letters?” I wondered, curious despite myself.

“People will read the head line, but they won’t look just below it; they go right to the picture.”

“Okay, got it. So do I just hold it like this?” I held it up to my face and peered through the eye holes. The world looked different, as if I was peering into an old time movie where it has gone grey at the edges. Beside me the man was holding his own newspaper too, he nodded. “So, what kind of spy should I be?” I couldn’t help it, he had a firm hold on my curiosity now.

“Any kind you want to be,” the man said with a smile on his face. “You know, you’re the first one to actually join me and not just walk away.”

“How do you know I won’t still do that?”

“You sat down and are now looking at passing people through two holes in a newspaper, I don’t think you’re going anywhere soon.” Even though I didn’t want to admit it, he was right.

And that was how I met Oliver Jones.