My Neighbor Reported My 79-Year-Old Father’s Garden. When the Inspector Returned at Six A.M., He Discovered Who the Harvest Was Really For

“I will be here at six o’clock Saturday morning.”

“Thank you, young man,” Dad said.

Wayne walked back to his white county vehicle and sat inside for a moment reviewing his notes before driving away down the road.

I turned to my father immediately.

“What on earth is happening on Saturday?”

Dad picked up his metal bucket from the porch floor.

“Saturday is simply Saturday,” he replied, turning around to walk back toward his green bean rows.

PART 4