Lost and Found

Who am I? Name is Peter, grew up on a dairy farm in west central Wisconsin, was forced to enlist at 18, carving out a life as an electrician after the service and I parted company. The departure was less than amicable. I'm 6'1", weigh between 230 and 240 all the time. My body is well toned, I stay very active on my job so have never felt the need to join a fitness place or gym. The most notable thing about my appearance is that I have long hair generally kept in a ponytail, and a beard longer than most. Because I sometimes work around moving equipment and belts, OSHA requires that I keep it no longer than 4", or have it covered, to prevent a safety hazard. Since I don't like it covered, I simply keep it at 4".

I've lived in this little Missouri town over three years and never saw this farmers market before. I enquired if it was new, was told it had been around over ten years. The selection was good, most of the produce looked fresh, and there were a limited group of trinket vendors. The bangles and beads and homemade nick knacks. Growing up with fresh produce, I looked forward to the local open markets each summer.

I arrived toward the end of the day the Saturday I discovered it, so many of the vendors were already packed and headed home. I ask one of the remaining guys if anyone had been selling pickling cucumbers. He mentioned a gal named Mary, who had just left, she was always on the end of his row. She had the best cukes and sweetcorn but was only there every other week.

Two Saturdays later I was at the market by 8, things were already well picked over in some booths. I sauntered to where the fella had said this Mary gal was supposed to be. She had a lot of product displayed, she and a young girl were still unloading from the van behind her. As I looked over the produce I couldn't stop staring at the girl, she looked so much like my younger sister at that age.

The lady stepped forward saying, "the produce is on the table, is there something you're interested in?"

"I'm sorry, it's just that she's a spitting image of my sister at that age."

The woman's eyes peered, her brows scrunched as she studied my face, slowly coming around the end of the table. Upon reaching me she smoothed my beard tight against my chin whispering, "Peter?"

I moved the hair out of her eyes and said, "Kitten?"

She instantly reached up to the back of my head and kissed me, a long soft kiss.

"I knew you weren't dead, I knew they had lied to me, I knew we'd find each other some day."

Then I asked the $64,000 question, "Is this girl ...?"

"Yes Peter, that's our daughter."

We were sorely interrupted by some shithead, "hey, get a fuckin room, I'm tryin to get some sweetcorn." As I looked at him he said, "move it asshole, or I'll move you."

Years of pent up anger boiled to the top, with Mary still holding my left arm my right shot straight out grabbing the fat little piece of crap by the throat. As I squeezed I felt Mary's hand on my face, "no, Peter, let him go, he isn't worth it."

As I released him I grabbed his collar jerking him to us, "now dirt bag, apologize to this lovely lady and her daughter for your filthy mouth and unacceptable behavior."

He mumbled something, I reached for his neck, he quickly spoke up before scurrying away.

"Come behind the table, let me look at you." While Carol (daughter) tended to customers, Mary and I caught up a little. Finding it hard to believe we'd finally found each other after all these years.

"I was told you sold the best cucumbers for sweet pickles, where would those be?"

"Still in the van." We moved to the back door of the van, Mary put her arms around my neck and kissed me again. She held on and hugged me tight as she sobbed, burying her head against my chest. We maintained that embrace until Carol needed mom's help.

"Let me have your cell Peter, I'll put my number in, call me about 4, by then it will have slowed down. I'll give you my home address, I want you to come to the house tonight, about 6."

"Okay, but I still need those cukes, and 6 ears of corn."

When I got home I cooked up a few ears of corn for lunch, man were they good. I dug out my old number 20 crock and started mixing the brine for my sweet pickles. What a day it had been. I found the sister I was forced to leave almost 8 years ago. I had never seen our daughter before, in fact, I didn't know if Mary kept our child or not.

Mary and I came into existence very late in our parents lives. Mother was 42 when she had me and had Mary 14 months later. Our dad was a hard headed, hard fisted son of a bitch, who never hesitated to dole out punishment, even if it wasn't called for. We milked cows and there were always lots of chores to do. As far as he was concerned that was all my sister and I were good for, doing chores.

Mom was a school teacher, how she ever got connected with our miserable father was always a mystery to Mary and I. Mother's twin sister had married the farmer a mile down the road from us, she cared for us during the day when we little. When we started school, it was where we were dropped off at until mom got home. Mary and I were inseparable. Mother used to say, "if you're looking for Mary, find Peter, and if you're looking for Peter, find Mary. If you can't find either one, look for Shep's wagging tail, because he's always with the kids."

We lived in a typical old two story farm house with little to no heat in the upstairs. Mary and I slept in the same room, each had our own bed, but we seldom slept apart, usually it was Mary who crawled into bed with me. We would cuddle tight together under that thick layer of warm quilts, we never felt more safe than when we were snuggled together. We kept that sleeping arrangement until Mary started puberty, mother insisted Mary have some privacy.

Living on a farm can be lonely for kids, Mary and I became best friends. We did everything together, bringing the cows in from the pasture, getting them in the right stanchion, feeding calves or dry cows, we did it together. When Mary turned ten I taught her how to drive the tractor enough to bale hay while I rode the wagon and stacked. Back at the barn she would unload while I stacked in the mow, it was hot, sweaty, dirty work, but at days end we'd run to the pond and jump in.

I remember when Mary started her first period, she wasn't feeling good. We sat in the hay mow for hours, me simply holding her around the shoulders. Mary didn't like crowds, didn't feel safe. There was more than one high school football game where I would sit with Mary in the bleachers, instead of running with my friends.

The old man was old school, he always had a team of horses to spread manure, pull a stone boat, or skid logs in the winter. I taught Mary how to harness them and drive when she was 13, we both loved that team. A gelding and a mare, totaling out around 3400 pounds. When we sold sweetcorn along the highway in the summer we always pulled a wagon with the horses. The city people would see the horses and stop, we sold out every Saturday. Mary and I used the horses to pull a wagon for the homecoming parade my junior year, suddenly we weren't just those farm kids who smelled like milk all the time, suddenly we were cool. Our fame was short lived, very short lived.

As we aged the old man didn't hit us as much, I was already bigger and bulkier than him when I was 15, and I always protected Mary. Something Mary and I hadn't figured out yet, is that we were falling in love with each other. We were allowed to date on a very limited basis, when we did we were always dissatisfied. What we didn't realize until much later was that I compared my dates to Mary, and she compared her dates to me, they always came up wanting.

Life was rolling along well, Mary and I were never closer. I had graduated and was working on the farm with the old man part time while I took classes at the local tech school. Then it all went to hell in a big hurry. Mary had been pestering mom for bikini panties, saying she was the only girl in school who still wore what she called "granny panties". Mother resisted, mostly because the old man called them whore panties. Mother finally relented, after all she was 18, old enough to decide what kind of underwear she wanted. Before she could tell the old man about them he'd seen some folded on top of the laundry waiting to go to our rooms. The old man always took a break before milking about the time we got off the school bus. Both mother and I were home early that day from a dental appointment. As Mary walked in the back door the old man grabbed her, threw her across his lap, lifted her skirt and slapped her ass hard. He was screaming, "I told you not to wear those whore panties" as he ripped them from her body, causing Mary to cry out in pain.

He proceeded to spank her bare ass with a vengeance until I knocked him off the chair, both tumbling to the floor. Mother was in the room by that time and grabbed Mary, pulling her out of the way. The old man was on his feet before me and as I began to get up he punched me in the stomach so hard it caused me to double over. I was waiting for the boot to my face when I heard a loud thud. Mother had hit him across the shoulders with a baseball bat, with enough force to knock him out momentarily. As he got up he was spewing, "So, mommy has to protect that little whore and her faggot brother, this isn't over."

Mother got right in his face, "Listen you son of a bitch, if you ever touch these children again, I'll put a boning knife between your second and third ribs, right into your heart."

The old man knew she'd do it and backed off. Mom told me to ignore chores that night and stay in the house. The old man never came in after milking, he was at the tavern, his comfort zone.

Mary had come into my room crying, lying next to me.

"Peter I'm not a whore, am I? I just wanted to wear panties like all the other girls and not be laughed at in the showers."

I assured her she was nothing of the sort, got her calmed down and was ready to send her off to her room. Suddenly she reached my crotch whispering, "Peter, make me your woman, show me I'm not a whore."

"Mary, we shouldn't do this."

"I know, but just once, I love you Peter. Treat me like a wife, not a sister."

The one time we'd broken the rules was all it took. Mary was pregnant, which mom soon figured out in the second month. We'd made love in January, my 19th had been in Oct with Mary turning 18 in December. After we'd made love, before we knew she was pregnant, we realized our deep seated love for each other. We would find dark corners in the mow or barn to kiss, We promised each other we'd go away somewhere after she graduated, we'd live as husband and wife. As soon as it was revealed Mary was indeed pregnant the daily onslaught of who the father was began. After a week of that at every meal I finally slammed my fist down and said, "It's me, I'm the father."

The old man sat at the end of the table, I sat in the chair to his right. In a split second the old man had clubbed me with the back of his hand and was standing up to pound on me. I wasn't having it this time, being at least a half foot taller than him I wailed into him with all the anger I had pent up through the years. It was all a blur to me until I felt Mary's hand on my face, she was calling my name, "Peter, leave him on the floor, he isn't worth it."

The old man left for the bar, not returning until morning milking. Mother had stayed home, he told her he would be gone for a few days, she'd be responsible for milking and chores, then left. We pitched in with mom and had the milking and chores by 6, mom planned to have supper by 7. We saw the old man pull in the drive about 6:30, he drove to the barn and stayed in the milk house. About 7:15 he walked in and sat in his regular spot.

"Peter, you are going to be given two choices, I personally don't care what you do, you've ruined your sister and you can rot in hell. First, you can pack your shit and leave tonight. I've arranged with mother's sister to let you stay there until you can leave town. You will enlist in the military, and never return here again. Second, if you choose not to do as I've just mentioned, I'll file charges of rape and you'll go to prison. Your choice asshole. If you stay with your aunt, you will have nothing to do with this family or your sister ever again."

What choice did I have, I went to my aunt's. I saw Mary the next day at school before she boarded the bus, we promised we'd find each other. We swore our love for one another and vowed to somehow make a life together. The day after that Mary was gone, I had no idea where, and no one was going to tell me.

Meanwhile, back at the Farmers market.

I chose to go back to the market and see if I could help her tear down. She was most appreciative, she gave me her address, telling me to go home, she'd see me at the house after six. I asked about a wine or something. Said to pick up some beer, she wasn't a wine person.

I was nervous as a long tail cat by a rocking chair. I got a 12 pack of cold beer on the way and grabbed a bouquet of assorted flowers while in the store. As I pulled up I noticed a nice home, looked to be a three/four bedroom ranch on at least two acres. The veggie van as she called it was under a carport and a newer Sonata sat in the garage. I rang the doorbell and was greeted by Mary and Carol, big smile on their faces, I gave the beer to Mary and the flowers to Carol. Carol was so excited, no one had ever given her flowers before.

"Nice move Peter, nice move" said Mary as she watched our daughter. "Come with me Carol, we'll get a vase and put them in water."

"Can I keep them in my room after supper mom?" Mary told her that would be just fine.

Mary had made a fresh salad, some bratwurst, and potato salad. Remembering I was not a potato salad guy, she had pan fried some taters, onions and mushrooms for me.

Carol was the first to speak, "So, Mr. Peter, did you know my dad. Mom says he was a great guy."

"I did know your dad, and I know he thought as much of your mom as she did him."

Mary was clearing the table, as Carol and I talked, Mary leaned over and gave me another soft kiss.

"You must be pretty special Mr. Peter, mommy never kisses any guys. Have you known her long?"

"All my life honey, all my life."

Carol asked to be excused to take the flowers to her room and play. Mary and I sat on the couch talking. We hadn't been sitting more than 15 minutes, Mary grabbed a blanket, snuggled into me, took my hand in hers and put it right on her mound. I stared down at her, our eyes met, she kissed me again.

"Peter, I want you with me, but I need to introduce this to our daughter in a way that doesn't harm her, or your relationship with her. I need you to give me a few days to introduce you into our lives, because if it were up to me, we'd be down the hallway with you screwing my ass into the mattress."

I felt my dick twitch and begin to respond. So did she, as she smiled and kissed me again.

"Where did you go after I went to stay with auntie? I asked.

"I was shipped to Iowa, to the Aunt Cora we never knew we had. She had married a very prosperous farmer of Mexican descent, the family dis-owned her. Only mom stayed in contact with her throughout the years. Cora was good to me, protected me from the horny farm hands and the boys in town who thought because I was pregnant I was an easy lay. She got me through high school, and then watched Carol for me as I obtained a degree in accounting. That's what I do now, I'm a CPA, catering to the farm community, the clients the big firms want nothing to do with. I figure if they want to throw away a hundred and fifty grand a year, I'll take it. You, what do you do?"

"I'm a master electrician. I work for Amp Electric on the other side of town."

"I know them, good people. And you, where did you end up once you were shipped off?"

"I enlisted in the Air Force, they taught me a skill, but I was so full of anger, I took it out on any and everybody. I was always fighting someone. My First Sergeant took an interest in me, found out my story, and proceeded to help me get a general discharge before I ended up in jail. He had a brother in Montana looking for an apprentice, I met him, we both got along, and with the help of the top, I got a general discharge and headed to Montana."

"I tried to find you, but never could. Every agency I contacted said you were dead." Mary uttered.

"When I got to Montana I changed my last name to Murphy, so the old man could never find me. I wrote mom a few times, and spoke with her one Mother's Day, until the old man made her hang up. Haven't talked with her since. I tried finding you, but I was told you didn't exist."

She laughed, "I changed my name as well, I took moms maiden name, Hutchins. No wonder we couldn't find each other."

"Do you ever hear from mom or Aunt Kathy?

"They're all dead. Dad died within two years of you being gone, massive coronary milking cows. A month later Uncle Ivan was mauled to death by a bull, which left mom and her sister owning half the valley we grew up in. They sold the cattle, the young stock, and the machinery. They kept a few steers for the freezer. Leased out all the crop land and rented the barn to the Tomkins for their young stock and dry cows."

"When did mom die?"

"Damndest thing. She and Aunt Kathy had driven to see me and the baby, mom had never seen her, she was already 4 years old. It was late fall, but no snow or ice yet. Somehow a semi crossed the median and hit mom's car head on, both died on the spot."

"No shit. What happened with the farms?"

"Since Ivan and Kathy had no children they left everything to you and I. Mom had amended the will after the asshole died and left everything to me upon death. Lawyers tried to find you for two years, the courts called the case closed and awarded everything to me. There is over $400,000 sitting in a bank waiting for you to show up in my life."

"Then when Aunt Cora died she had no children either, leaving over a million dollars to me, and 800 acres of crop land I lease every year. Your eyes are bulging out of your head, it's mind boggling, I know. Peter, I have nearly two million dollars in a bank, not including your 400 grand, or my yearly earnings. Our home farm was bought by the Olson's at the end of the valley, their oldest son is farming it. Kathy and Ivan's farm got parceled off into what are called farm-ets to city people who want a horse."

"Are they buried at Button Cemetery?"

"They were all cremated. Mother wasn't going to memorialize the son of a bitch who sent her kids away, she dumped his ashes in the manure spreader, he's spread on the fields with the rest of the cowshit. Uncle Ivan was from the UP, so he wanted his ashes spread amongst the Finlanders on the Upper Peninsula. I spread mom and her sister on the hill above the north pasture, where you and I used to hide from the world."

Mary got up to get two more beers telling me she was going to change and be more comfortable. She returned in a long tee and what I assumed were panties, with no bra. Mary is only 3" shorter than me at 5'10", she has a lovely figure, soft hips, slender waist, breasts which stand straight out, probably a small C cup now, didn't remember her being that big when we were younger. Long neck, covered by the coal black silky hair half way down her back. Legs, well the damn things went on forever.

As she sat down she pulled the blanket over us and put my hand right back on her mound. I could feel panties through the shirt and stroked the hair a little bit. She smiled, putting her hand on mine, as if to say enough for tonight. Carol was buzzing around, it was close to her bedtime, Mary having let her stay up later because of company.