The Family Tree

Here is another earlier effort of mine that was on another website, now just a dim, but fond memory. It is completely overhauled as new characters stepped forward and presented themselves. I hope you enjoy it -- it was fun to visit this one again. However, I must apologize up front for the deplorable pun near the end of the story -- when I rewrote it, I changed the family name from McGee to McCoy for no real reason and it was not until the moment presented itself that I committed the sin of punning. As always, I look forward to your comments and criticisms -- please take the time to offer me input, it is invaluable.

Oh yes, this is a work of fiction, any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental. All characters exist only in the story and in my head. Enough already -- read and enjoy!

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A few years back, my younger sister, Pam caught the genealogy bug and began researching our family tree. It became a tradition at family get-togethers for Pam to regale us with her latest discoveries. Tracing back our family tree became a passion with her and she very diligently researched our past whenever she had a spare moment from taking care of her husband and their children.

It intrigued me as well, although not on the same level as it did Pam. I did help her out when I could, often accompanying my sister to various courthouses and cemeteries as she ran down facts and clues about our family. It was fun to help my younger sister out. Growing up, we'd had all the usual disagreements and conflicts between siblings and being three years older than her, I ran with a different crowd. In helping her with her research, I got to finally start knowing my sister as a person. I began to realize how smart and funny and personable my sister was. I enjoyed our time together and finally it hit me one day, we were more than brother and sister -- we had become good friends.

Pam's great moment of triumph came when she announced she had traced our family back to the mid 1870s to a married couple named Sean and Mary McCoy. She found a pre-Ellis Island record that indicated that they had journeyed to America on an old steamship called the Athena around 1874 and that they had come from Ireland, hailing from a small village in County Kildare near the city of Lendip.

Later that same year, Pam would turn thirty-seven and for her birthday, I conspired with her husband to surprise her with plane tickets to Ireland for a week's worth of further genealogical research. My sister cried like a baby and then hugged me. We planned the trip to coincide with her summer vacation at her job and for her husband to accompany her and make it a second honeymoon.

As luck would have it however, her husband, a public accountant, had to spend that week at a new tax seminar and couldn't go. At the last minute, Pam begged me to go with her on the trip so she wouldn't be alone. At forty years old, I had been divorced for three years and with no children and had over a month of vacation time built up. I hadn't had a real vacation in years and it sounded like fun. A few phone calls and we were able to book a second hotel room and get things sorted out. Our mom happily volunteered to watch Pam's kids (we all knew darn well that Grandma McCoy was going to spoil them rotten).

The first few days were a lot of fun as we toured our ancestral homeland and laughed and cut up across Ireland. I took great pleasure getting to know my sister even better and enjoyed having her on my arm as we took in the sites. I marveled secretly that my little sister had grown up into such a vibrant, funny and I'll be honest, beautiful woman.

Pam was rather short at five feet, one inch and a bit stocky, all boobs and butt as I've heard her joke more than once. Pam does have nice and sizable breasts and I have caught myself staring at them more than once, especially as she favors sweaters and blouses that are deep cut and a bit revealing. Seeing the upper halves of my sister's breasts jiggling as she strides along are not uncommon. It made me feel a little weird thinking of my little sister in sexual terms, but I would dismiss the thoughts from my mind and go on -- until they cropped up in my imagination again.

Pam's most eagerly awaited moment of the trip was her appointment with the local village priest who was going to help us look for some records on our ancestors. The father turned out to be a very old priest who insisted on being called Father Donald. We watched with interest as he went back through the parish church's records.

Finally, after perusing many pages of his documents, he gave a hurumph of satisfaction and told us, "Now here we finally have it. A Sean McCoy, born 1854, and Mary McCoy, born 1856. There is even a notation that Sean and Mary left for America in late 1873."

Pam squealed with joy as Father Donald showed us the spidery scrawl of a long dead priest who had kept the records so long ago. Pam, ever inquisitive, asked Father Donald, "Is there any mention of Mary's maiden name? I've never seen a reference to it."

The old priest looked at her oddly and said, "Dear lady, her maiden name is McCoy, just like her brother, both born to James and Deirdre McCoy."

Pam's expression was one of confusion and she replied, "No, no, no. Sean was married to Mary and they traveled to New York City where Mary gave birth to our great, great, great grandfather in 1874. They weren't brother and sister, they were husband and wife."

The priest studied my sister for a long minute before replying in a tone that implied he did not make such mistakes. "My lady, there is no confusion in these records. The Sean and Mary McCoy that departed from County Kildare in late 1853 were brother and sister. Are you sure that you found the right girl in your research? Perhaps you have been tracking the wrong McCoys."

Pam nodded vigorously and pulled a copy of a document she had found on their entry into the United States. The paperwork indicated that both were from County Kildare, Ireland, the birthdates matched up down the day of the month and there was check in the box indicating that they were married. "See, they came over together on the Athena -- a married couple, not brother and sister."

Father Donald sighed and said, "Ms. McCoy. I'm not doubting your research, but I am suggesting you consider the facts. Sean and Mary were brother and sister."

Pam was getting a little riled and I squeezed her shoulder to offer support as she said with a little heat in her voice. "But that's ridiculous! They were married and had a baby together and three more children over the years! They couldn't be brother and sister -- that would be..." Pam stopped speaking and covered her mouth. She turned and looked at me in horror before turning back to stare wordlessly at Father Donald. It took a moment for the reality of it to kick in with me as well.

Father Donald sighed and reached out and took my sister's hand. "Think nothing of it, lass. That sort of thing happens now and again. It has gone on since the beginning of time, I'm thinking, and still goes on today."

"But that means my whole family began with -- with..." She couldn't finish her sentence. My sister reached out to squeeze my hand.

"Incest?" finished Father Donald. "Well, it happens, Ms. McCoy and probably between more brothers and sisters than any of us expect -- God forgive them." He smiled at Pam again, "But I'm sure the good Lord will pardon me if I say, if'n your ancestors Sean and Mary did commit the deed and the worse thing is that they're the roots of your family -- well, that cannot be too terrible a thing can it? The worse thing you can say is that your family was created out of love and in the Lord's eyes, I cannot believe that he would find too much wrong with that."

Pam struggled to reply, but couldn't find the words. Father Donald pulled out a notepad and writing something down, saying, "Well, if you want to seek more proof, I suggest you visit old Brian McCoy. He would be one of your cousins, several times removed, I'm sure -- the son of one of Sean's and Mary's brothers." He passed Pam the note and continued, "Here are directions to his farm. He's not a bad sort, a little crotchety in his old age -- being I believe ninety-one years old now." Father Donald grinned and said, "Not a young pup like me -- I'm seventy-nine myself."

We thanked him for his help and kind words and wondered out of the parish church in something akin to shock. Pam took it harder than me as we walked back towards our hotel. "Sean and Mary were brother and sister?" she said over and over, more to herself than to me, almost as if she were trying to convince herself of it.

"I think Father Donald was right, Sis," I started. "From everything you've found out about them, it sounds like they had a good life and if they hadn't been committing inc..." I stumbled over the word. "If they hadn't been lovers, we wouldn't be standing here now." I reached out and took her hand. I tried to come up with more comforting words, but had to settle for hugging her when she hurried into my arms. Sometimes a pair of friendly arms around you can do so much more than any words.

We were standing on an old stone bridge spanning a large stream and if I had been with another woman I would have thought it a romantic place and a romantic moment, but of course, this was my sister in my arms, snuffling against my sweatshirt.

Still -- feeling my sister's very shapely body pressed against mine had me responding as a man. I was quite aware of her full breasts flattening and spreading out against my lower chest. I even fancied I could feel her nipples pressing through the fabric of her bra, although I am sure it was just my imagination. I felt my penis begin to harden, sliding down my trouser leg, seeking space. I shivered as I felt her thigh against mine, but didn't move even though I was aware that she might soon feel my arousal.

I felt her shiver suddenly and pull back, wiping her eyes and laughing embarrassedly. "Thank you, Jake," she said. "I'm glad you're with me. David would just find this all horribly funny and I couldn't take that right now."

"My pleasure, little sister," I replied. And indeed it was -- I hoped I wasn't blushing and I hoped my erection wasn't too evident. Then, Pam caught me off guard by stepping up to me again and going up on tip-toe, kissing me on the corner of my mouth. As she did, her thigh pressed against the bulge in my pants and so the thrill that shot through me was in part from the touch of my sister's lips and from realizing that she could feel my hardened cock.

When she stepped back again, my sister looked at me a little oddly and then said, "Sorry, big brother. I hope I haven't embarrassed you."

I laughed and shook my head and then taking Pam's hand, led her on across the bridge. "Hey, not at all." I quickly changed the subject. "What say we find some lunch and then go find our cousin Brian?"

Pam agreed to this and so we lunched at a pub near the hotel, not saying much. Pam's mind, I'm sure was busy mulling over this morning's revelations. I was mulling over my sudden sexual reactions to my sister. This was something that was both shocking to me and incredible thrilling. As we quietly ate, I confess that a series of fantasies rolled through my mind. Images of my sister naked, kneeling before me burned themselves into my brain as I speculated on what Pam looked like naked. What shape were her nipples? Was my sister's pussy hairy, trimmed, or shaved? What would she be like in bed, submissive or a sexual tiger?

Every so often, Pam would look up from her food or turn her gaze from the view from the nearby window and smile at me, sending me further into my newly acquired fantasies. It took a while to bring them under control, but finally while she went to the restroom and I inquired about directions to Brian McCoy's farm, I was able to shake my naughty thoughts off and will my hard-on to shrink away.

Driving on the wrong side of the road helped keep my mind off my sister as we drove through the Kildare countryside, marveling at its beauty. Our directions were good and I only got us turned around once before we pulled into a driveway that ended at a modern looking house. Pam sort of pouted as she looked at the house then she laughed, "I think I was expecting the little cottage that John Wayne and Maureen O'Hara had in "The Quiet Man."

We climbed out of the car and from a shed nearby emerged an elderly fellow who did look like he had been in the cast of "The Quiet Man." Not much shorter than my own five foot, ten inches, he was somewhere between eighty and a million years old, gray hair sticking out from under his cap and smoking a pipe. He had thick glasses on and used a cane, but came quickly up through the tromped down grass path that led back to his house, calling out in a reedy voice, "Good day to ya. What brings you fair folk out to visit an old man? Are you lost?"

He approached us and then stopped and stared at us for a moment. "Well, I don't believe we met, but I'll bet my farm that you're both McCoys -- ye got the look about ya, sure enough."

Pam looked at me, her eyebrows raised and after we both closed our dropped jaws, I said, "I'm Jake McCoy and this is my sister, Pam."

The old man grinned at me and replied, "Americans, are you? Come home to track down the family roots? There's no inheritance for you -- I'm stone broke, ya know."

I opened my mouth to reply, but did not have a clue what to say, but the old man just laughed and said, "I'm just funning with ya, boy. I'm Brian McCoy and glad to meet some lost family." He stepped closer and shook my hand. He took Pam's offered hand and gave it a quick shake and then a kiss.

"Father Donald sent us to talk to you. We've been tracking back our ancestors and he thought you could tell us about Sean and Mary McCoy," said Pam in a subdued voice.

Brian rocked back on his heels and his eyes widened. "Well, I'll be damned. The prodigals return!" He turned and motioned towards the cottage. "Come on, we'll have a cuppa and see what I can tell you. He began walking away, shouting, "Moira! Moria, put on some tea, we have company!"

Moira turned out to be his granddaughter, a woman close to our age and having more than a slight resemblance to Pam physically, the biggest difference being a lovely mane of reddish-orange hair. She welcomed us in as family, and despite looking at Pam a little queerly, she scurried about making us comfortable and fixing us tea and producing some pastries. Once we were settled in, Brian fixed us with a steely gaze and said, "So you be the line of my Da's older brother and sister?"

Pam gasped a little and said, "So it's true? Father Donald is right? Sean and Mary were siblings?"

Brian nodded and said, "Aye -- fell head over heels in love, they did and Uncle Sean got his sister with child. Would've been a scandal I'm sure, but they ran off to America when me Da was about thirteen. No one outside the family ever knew for sure, but I'm sure there were those that speculated about it."

He looked at my sister's crestfallen expression and said, "Now girl, don't take on so. People fall in love all the time -- sometimes it shouldn't have been and sometimes nothing can stop it. Such was the case with Uncle Sean and Aunt Mary. You both look like fine folk -- so I'd think their union was blessed, wouldn't you?"

Pam nodded slowly. "I suppose, its just come as such a surprise. Are you positive? There couldn't be some sort of mixup?"

The old man snorted and turned to his granddaughter and said, "Moira, bring me my book." She smiled at us and left the room. Brian continued, "No mix up, child. My Da told me the story many times. Sean and Mary were always close and scarcely a boy could say a word to Mary or tip his cap and he might face Sean's protective wrath. In truth, Mary never showed a sign that she fancied anyone -- anyone exceptin' Sean. Sean confided in my Da, telling him how he had these feelings for his sister. Told Da that it wasn't lust he was feelin' but love."

Brian lowered his voice and said, "Da told me he seen them once -- out in the old barn we used to have. Said they were making love in the hay up in the loft." The old man's face softened and he smiled. "Da said they looked like two angels, faces full of love as they had their way with each other. He said, it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen."

Moira returned with a large, leather-bound book, loose leafs of paper sticking out here and there. She sat it on a small table and Brian scooted his chair closer to it and opened it up. "Mary told her mother that she was with child and she lifted her husband's purse and gave Sean and Mary running money. Told them to go to America and live their lives." Brian sighed and said, "Da says his mother got a terrible hidin' for that, but she did not mind. It was for her kids, may the good Lord keep and bless them."

He pulled out a yellowed envelope and from it showed us a letter. "My grandfather told Da to burn anything that Sean and Mary ever sent to them, but Da kept a few letters and such. The first letter he sent home, he sent money to repay what they had took. Da always respected his brother for that. Here, take a look at this." Brian handed the letter to Pam and we read it, me looking over her shoulder.

DA,

JUST A FEW WORDS TO APOLIGIZE FOR LEAVING YOU WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A GOODBYE. MARY AND ME CANNOT STAY -- WE CANNOT LIVE OUR LIVES THERE AS WE WANT AND NEED TO. I KNOW YOU WILL BE ANGRY WITH ME FOR A LONG TIME, BUT WE WANTED YOU TO KNOW WE MADE IT TO AMERICA. IT WAS A ROUGH PASSIGE IN THE BELLY OF THE BOAT AND MARY BEING SICK MUCH OF THE TIME. WE HAVE WOUND UP IN A PLACE CALLED PITTSBURG AND I HAVE FOUND WORK HERE.

MARY IS GOOD AND HAPPY AND WE HAVE A WEE LITTLE ONE. YOU ARE A GRANDFATHER, DA. MARY GAVE BIRTH TO A LOVLY LITTLE GIRL. WE NAMED HER JAMIE, DA. SORT OF AFTER YOU.

PLEASE DON'T BE ANGRY, DA. WE HAD TO LIVE OUR LIVES OUR WAY. IN NOONE ELSE'S ARMS COULD MARY AND ME BE HAPPY. AND WE ARE HAPPY, DA AND IN LOVE. MAYBE IT'S WRONG AND MAYBE IT'S RIGHT. IF I BURN IN HELL FOR THIS, IT WILL BE WORTH IT.

WE WILL WRITE YOU FROM TIME TO TIME AND MAYBE YOU CAN ONE DAY FORGIVE US. WE LOVE YOU, DA. MARY AND I BOTH LOVE YOU AND MA AND THE YOUNGER ONES.

SEAN

The letter was dated from late October in 1874. Pam wiped her eyes and handed the letter back to Brian. "Thank you," she said in a small voice. She reached out and found my hand and squeezed it tight.

Brian accepted the old letter back and tucked it away with great care. Moira leaned in and said, "Show them the picture, Grandpa." She looked up at us and said, "The family never heard a lot from Sean and Mary, but they did send a picture a few years later.

Her grandfather fished through his book and came up with a photograph. He handed it to Pam and she took a look and gasped. I looked over her shoulder and I gasped, saying, "My god, that could be you, Sis. Both of them look like you!"

It was a photograph of Sean and Mary, a little girl sitting on Sean's lap -- maybe three years old and in Mary's arm was an infant, probably not yet a year old. They were in clothes of the period and sitting stiff and formal -- barely a hint of a smile on the adults' face, although the little girl appeared to be on the verge of laughing.. The cause of my amazement was that Mary was a near twin for my sister. The same face with minute differences. The old fashioned clothes barely hinted at them having the same build, but I would have been willing to bet the house on it.

And her daughter -- I remembered what Pam had looked like as a little girl and their Jamie was the spitting image of Pam when she was little. Moira nodded in agreement. "I always thought I looked a wee bit like Mary," she said, "But I near enough fell over when I met you, cousin."