A Spoonful of Sugar

A Spoonfull of Sugar

This is my first story of any kind. I used to hate writing, but for some reason I find myself writing a story out of boredom. I must say, it was fun. I have been reading on Lit for a number of years on and off. Curious what the reception is. This story starts off slow to set everything up, so nothing erotic in the first chapter, but there definitely will be moving forward. There is no incest, gay, lesbian, or anyone under the age of 18 in this story. Feel free to be critical or praising. I welcome both. People, places, and events are entirely made up. Enjoy - NC24

***

"

We are hitting some rough patches. Please keep your seatbelts fastened, and the rest of the flight should be smooth the rest of the flight once we're through. Thank you

."

Henry woke up from the combination of turbulence and the captain, a little disappointed since he can never sleep on airplanes. Sleep was hard to come by lately.

He recently had gone through a break up. Long enough to get over the thick of it, but not long enough to not think about it at least once every few days. It was a hard breakup. Eventually time would be the ultimate healer, but this impromptu trip would be some much needed medicine.

"

The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else

" is all he heard from his friends. As if it were that easy. Henry wasn't the most appealing guy. 24, 30lbs overweight, 5 foot 8 which wasn't tall enough for some girls. He had green eyes, which girls tended to say they liked. His confidence was never awful, but it wasn't an A on a good day either. The hotter the girl, the more nervous he became. He had slept with 4 women at this point in his life, but none more than a 5 or 6 outta 10, and none very fit either.

But here on this plane Henry found himself taking a much needed vacation, even if it may not have been a planned one. He received terrible news that his grandmother passed away at the age of 94 years old the week prior from old age. He wasn't too stoked to go and see relatives in South Dakota because they were always wondering he was going to stop "fuckin' off" and get a real career. He worked a dead end job in a restaurant in Washington not knowing where life was headed. And he absolutely hated hearing about it from them, but at least this trip gave him reason not to be at the job he disliked going to everyday.

This flight though was bringing him some peace. A chance to reflect and relax a little, even though planes normally gave him anxiety. Henry did not like turbulence, nor crying babies, and especially not sitting next to uncomfortable people in tight spaces. But this flight had none of that. He even had the middle seat next to him empty. He was able to just sit back and enjoy the time off he had.

"And what would you like to drink sir?" asked the flight attendant as he was slowly dozing off again finally. Her name tag said 'Sophia.' He would have been disappointed normally from being woken up, but her bright smile woke him up completely.

"Uhh ginger ale with ice please and thank you," Henry said, trying not to look her up and down, as difficult as it was. She greeted him upon boarding an hour prior. She was very cute. Now, getting a second look, Henry was able to check her out more as she went to helping the adjacent seats on the other side of the aisle after she gave him his drink.

Henry couldn't decide what he liked more about her, her infectious smile or her wide hips that were very tightly hugged by the uniform she was wearing. She had glowing light brown eyes, and a smile that made him melt into his seat. Her long straight brunette hair flowed down to her chest, which wasn't big, but proportionate. Roughly 5 feet tall, she looked at least a few years older than him, but no more than 30. Henry had never been with a woman older than him, even by a little, but always wanted to know what it was like to be with a woman who was more than a novice. When she moved to the row behind him, he noticed a ring on her finger. A little disappointed, but who was he kidding, he would never get that lucky anyway.

Henry was definitely an ass man. He thought a great ass and a small chest looked proportionately better than a big bust and a flat butt. But as he got older, for some reason he started liking a woman's chest more than her hips. But hell, he loved both. Even more so, he loved a pretty smile and eyes more, but who doesn't? One feature Henry did absolutely love, however, was shorter women, and 5 foot tall Sophia had him feeling anxious in his seat anytime he caught a glimpse of her.

He spent the remainder of his flight relaxing, listening to music, and looking at his new favorite flight attendant until the plane landed in Minneapolis. His parents had already flown in a couple days prior and drove up to his uncle's farm. Henry was greeted at the arrival gate by his dad and uncle. The drive west was about 6 hours, and he wasn't looking forward to the millions of questions he was about to get about what he was up to in life.

Thankfully, most of the drive was filled with stories about Henry's grandparents. His now late grandmother, who was his dad's mother, was widowed for nearly 45 years. His grandfather passed in the early 1970s from a heart attack, after smoking two packs a day for years. They were both very strict Catholic and lived on a farm their whole lives. Very old fashioned, which at the time he wasn't a fan of, but he had to respect their way of life because it worked for them.

He had never been interested in learning about his family's history, but Henry figured this was the best time to start asking questions, especially since he didn't want to talk about himself.

"Your grandfather didn't 'ave a lot o' time to do a lot other than work," my uncle said. "He raised us five kids and worked the farm. But he was a collector of many odds and ends." He went on to tell stories of grandpa working in the Dakotas in the 1930's and not being home for weeks at a time. And how his grandfather immigrated her with a huge family from Prussia in the late 1890s.

Henry knew a lot more about his grandmother since he had actually known her and visited nearly every year of his life, but she was a very simple woman. She did as any traditional wife would. Took care of the home and kids while the husband worked. She was a very worrisome woman, always having an opinion about something. He couldn't blame her though, being that old he was sure he would have as many opinions as she did.

He was mildly interested in learning, but not enough to ask too many questions. So, he just let them talk. Henry was named after his grandfather, Henry Hughes. His dad didn't share that first name, so he was Henry Hughes II. Henry never cared for his first name to be completely honest, but at least the last name made a good flow, at least he thought it did. And he sure as hell didn't like the nickname Hank.

Henry's uncle took over the farm when he became an adult, and lived there his entire life. He was the eldest of the 5 kids, and the expectation was that he would take over the farm when he turned 18. His father passed when he was 15. He's married, but never had children, so the farm tasks always took a toll on him, especially since he had another full time job. "Farmin' isn't what it used to be," he said. So he contracts the work out and he takes a cut from it. Either way, it seemed like a hard life, but Henry didn't have much room to talk since his uncle paid the bills much more comfortably than he did.

"Do you need any help while I'm here for a couple weeks?" he asked his uncle.

"Not entirely, but I could give ya a project if yer up for it. It may be a bit o' work, but there could be some cool stuff in it for ya depending how far ya get."

Confused by what he meant by a reward, he asked, "What do you mean by cool stuff?"

"Like I said, ya grandfather used to collect a bunch o' random trinkets, rocks, and fossils. He used to go into the Black Hills among other places while he was off work and find whatever interested him. He mentioned a long time ago he buried these treasures in the pasture aroun' the three cottonwood trees. He told me, 'When you're of age, I want you to 'ave what's I've found over the years,' but I never got aroun' to it because life 'as always been too busy. But if you're bored, go ahead and grab a shovel and see what's down there."

Henry personally wasn't too interested in rocks and fossils. The thought sounded boring to him actually, but he figured, why not, he has two weeks to kill. Farm country, depending who you are, can get boring real quick. Although it's better with friends, which here he had none.

He passed out for the remainder of the drive until they got to the farm after just under 6 hours, getting a little more much needed sleep. They had dinner and talked some more with the rest of the family, but Henry crashed hard again shortly after.

***

"Henry! Breakfast is ready! Eat up and lets get to work!" Henry rolled over to the clock reading 5:14am and mumbled to himself,

Fuckin farm life, I thought he said he didn't need any help

. He normally worked evening shifts at the restaurant until almost midnight, got home and chilled before going to bed around 3am. So waking up at a little after 5am, even though the 2 hour time zone change was still 3am according to his circadian rhythm, he was dreading getting up, but oh well he mumbled again. He got up and scarfed down his bland oatmeal and orange juice, then went outside to find his dad and uncle working on the tractor.

"Hey Henry what took ya so long? Come 'ere and giv'us a hand," my uncle said.

Working on cars became a hobby of Henry's a few years ago, but never had the money to support the hobby. Working on a farm tractor was definitely new and exciting for him, even though doing it at 6am had him much less interested. They put in a new belt, new fuel pump, and topped off the fluids that morning before Henry was completely exhausted. Not by the amount of work, but because it was June and already hit 75 degrees by 11am. He wasn't a hot weather guy, he mostly preferred the cold, mainly because in his opinion it is easier to warm up than it is to cool down.

He loaded the tools back in the wagon and wheeled it to the shed. When he locked the shed, his dad shouted over at me, "Get in the car, we're going to Newsome's for lunch and beer." Newsome's was the local bar in the small town a few miles over. The town wasn't bigger than the four way intersection. The Midwest is full of these types of small towns with surrounding farms. 3 of the 4 corners of the intersection have a convenience store, a church, and a bar, the 4th could be anything from to auto shop to a post office to a butcher.

They got to Newsome's and sat down at the bar, and just like any small farm town, everyone knew each other. Old friends of my dad and uncle gave their condolences to their mother, and my grandmother, including the bartender.

The bartender greeted them with as much of deadly smile as Sophia did to Henry yesterday on the plane. "Hi there, my name is Macie! I'll be your server today. What can I get started for you?"

Henry was frozen to his seat as much as his lips were to his voice.

"Hey Macie, we'll take two Miller's and whatever Henry is havin'," his uncle said as Henry struggled to open his mouth.

Dear Lord was this girl beautiful. She looked about 5 foot 5 and 22 years old, give or take, and had a bubbly personality. Shoulder length blonde hair with some curls that led to her tight green t-shirt containing her filled out chest. At least DD's he thought, and they were difficult not to look at. No cleavage, but that's how he preferred women to dress. Henry wasn't necessarily modest, but he liked it when women kept him guessing. He couldn't see the rest of her yet besides a sliver of her tight waist that was showing below her shirt, but she had green eyes like his, which were his absolute favorite eye color.

"I'll take whatever IPA you have," Henry said, trying to not stutter, but she smiled at him anyway knowing he was trying to keep it together.

"Sorry hun, but the only brews we have here are lagers. You know, light beers and such."

Forgetting he was in the Midwest now and not in Washington, he replied, "My bad, I don't live here, I'll take an old-fashioned." She seemed surprised with the choice, but looked at him with her lovely smile and said she'd be right back with our drinks and to take our orders. Maybe because it was 12 in the afternoon, but he just could not stomach light beer. Henry's inner man was not wanting to unimpress her by not getting a drink at all. The Pacific Northwest has as many microbreweries as coffee shops, and he had grown accustomed to IPA's and stouts as he got older. But whiskey was going to have to be the choice for him during his stay.

As she walked away, he saw her light blue jeans that fit her ass well. Not the widest hips he had ever seen, but her thighs and butt had some thickness to them.

"Just like your dad!" his uncle roared with laughter as he saw him checking her out. "You got nothin' to be nervous about Henry. Plenty o' girls around in the world, no use in gettin' nervous by 'em."

"I just went through a breakup and I am 24, can you fucking blame me?" I spat back defending myself.

"I'm just givin' ya shit Henry, dammit, would I love to be in my 20's again. 59 isn't too kind to people, let me tell ya."

Macie came back a few minutes later with their drinks and took their lunch orders. Food wasn't half bad, and the drink was actually impressive for a bar in the middle of nowhere. When she came back with our check, Henry told her to leave it with him, knowing full well it was tough for him to pay for two others and a round of drinks, let alone my own food. He was trying to impress her because hell, why not. He's on vacation, a little vulnerable, and doesn't have anything to lose. Macie had another surprised, but impressed look in her grin, but took the cash and off we went.

His uncle looked over at him with a half grin, "You aren't fuckin' around nephew, I like that. You're not as timid as ya used to be." Henry could tell his dad felt a bit uncomfortable and proud at the same time, a unique combination, but that's how he was too a long time ago.

They got back to the house and his uncle said he wanted to run some errands for some more parts for the tractor. He had been trying to get it back up and running since he never had time for farm projects, but now since he had a week off of work with family in town, he had time to get some long due projects done. Henry told his uncle he was going to stay back and take a nap, so off him and his dad went. His mother and aunt were at the house socializing in the living room when he walked in. He said hello, but went off to his room to take a nap.

Henry lay in bed, tired from the food and whiskey, but couldn't fall asleep. He played a game on his phone for 30 minutes and thought about his grandpa and his collection. For some reason it interested Henry a lot more at this moment than it did before, so he got up and headed for the shed to grab a shovel, gloves, and a bucket for anything he might find.

In the pasture, three massive cottonwood trees must have stood there for decades it seemed. His grandpa had built this farm in the 1930's, and one would imagine these trees were here back then. This homestead was roughly 200 acres of mostly corn fields, with some woods and a pond, aside from the house, barn, shed, and small pasture. Cows used to roam this pasture a couple decades ago, he barely remembered them when he was very young, but now the farm was strictly corn and fall deer hunting.

Henry looked at the cottonwoods wondering which one he should dig around first. He figured he should go smallest to largest tree, although he wasn't gonna dig around all three trees in one afternoon. This would most likely be a one tree per session ordeal. He was not in the best of shape, and digging sounded like a chore, but something told him he was not going to regret it. He picked the smallest tree, even though all three were extremely large, and started digging away. After five or six scoops, he noticed something shiny in the dirt as he turned over the shovel, picked up what looked to be a small gem. Looked like an onyx almost, but Henry was no expert in geology. He threw it in the bucket and kept shoveling.

A few more turns and he found another gem. This was obsidian. Very black and shiny, it was volcanic glass that formed from lava. He remembered it from a friend who used to collect it. He was into minerals and gems having special properties. He said it was used for calming the mind. Henry never thought it was totally true, but never bullshit either. He was open minded when it comes to things he didn't know much about. Learning was something he loved, so maybe he could start learning about these gems he was finding. Or rocks? He didn't know the technical terms, but he would find out soon enough. All he knew is that they were pretty and interesting.

An hour passed by and he had himself a collection of unique looking gems, including another obsidian chunk about the size of his fist. He was insanely tired from the digging and the fact it was 85 degrees, and decided to head in for dinner. But he wanted to go back for more.

"Find anything cool?" His mom asked when he got back inside.

"Oh yeah! Some various types of rocks, and one the size of my fist!" His mom and aunt looked at them with curiosity. They were mildly surprised that he found anything at all.

Henry's aunt was especially interested in them. "I always wondered what might be in the pasture, but never worked up the courage to go look myself. I am glad someone finally did. No matter what anyone says, I think you should keep what you find. Don't let you uncle or father tell you to split it with them. You did the work, you earned it."

He nodded in agreement, and glad she said that because he thought they may ask for some of it. "Honestly, I wouldn't mind leaving some with you, but I may just keep the coolest ones."

"That's a good plan. Dinner will be ready in 20 minutes. Go wash up, you look filthy from all that digging."

He went down the hall and into my bedroom. The room he was staying in used to be his grandfather's study room. The house he built was pretty decently sized, two stories, and maybe 4000 square feet or so. When his grandfather built the farm in the 30's, he had a small house for 10 years or so while he built this one, mostly by himself, but with help here and there. This place had four bedrooms, three bathrooms, two living rooms, and an entire unfinished basement. The smell of old home, but peacefulness in a way filled the air and brought a calmness. Henry was thoroughly impressed grandpa built this himself, knowing he could never do something like that, but he also lived in a different time.

He went and washed up and went to the dining room for dinner. His dad and uncle had gotten home just in time and they sat around the table and ate steak, corn, and potatoes au gratin, one of my favorites. Of course his uncle wanted to go through what he had found, but his aunt came to his defense and his uncle piped down. He was kind of a greedy man, nice, but liked to push the envelope to have it his way. His wife, Henry's aunt, was a good woman for him, keeping him in check when needed.

They finished dinner, socialized and watched television for a couple hours before heading off to bed. Henry lay in bed wide awake, thinking of what could be down there. He knew there had to be a big rock, a few times the size of the obsidian he found earlier in the day. After about 45 minutes laying restless in bed, he got up, went outside, grabbed the shovel, and headed for the pasture.