Goodbye Girl

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R410a
R410a
2,943 Followers

I hadn't paid much attention to the different old pieces of machinery the day before, there behind an old Allis Chalmers open-seat combine was a huge pile of straw. Or so I thought. After digging through the first foot or so my hand hit something hard. My heart was racing and my breathing had increased in tempo as I quickly moved away the layers of straw. In front of me was a tarp covering what I hoped was my pickup. I continued digging away layers of straw along the bottom until I could lift the tarp. There it was, my trusty 1937 Ford pickup.

Now that I knew it was there I could relax. What I didn't realize was that it had taken nearly the entire morning to find it. Glancing at my pocket watch I noticed it was 11:30. I hurried to the house and found gran napping in her chair. As I walked by to wash she stirred.

"Guess I'd better get some lunch for you."

Lunch was not something I normally partook of, but when she mentioned it my stomach growled. Hmmm, I may have to change my routine if I'm going to be working on the farm every day. I had an idea.

"Is the Krystal Café still in town gran?" She nodded. "Let me take you to lunch, it'll be like the old days."

'I don't know Georgie. I don't get around so good these days."

I sat on the floor next to her, "I'll help. We can take our time. How long has it been since folks in town have seen you? I know Pauline takes care of the groceries and such. Must be a long time since you ate at the Krystal."

She patted my hand and smiled, "How can a girl possibly turn down an invitation like that? Let me powder my nose and I'll be right with you."

Though she could no longer drive, and her old Buick hadn't been driven in years she insisted on keeping it. We took her car into town, it needed fuel anyway. The car would be one more thing for me to look at, I was sure it needed an oil change and tune up. Both things I could take care of at home. Folks that hadn't seen gran in years stopped by our table, a few stopped long enough to catch up on the latest gossip. Gran would smile and nod, she may not have agreed with what they'd said, but she was also not one to get into a disagreement at her age.

We'd been there over an hour, I'd finished my blue plate special along with pie and coffee. Gran had picked at her salad and made darn sure I got a piece of pie to go for her dessert after supper. I told gran to stay put while I paid the bill and I would help her to the car. I noticed while standing at the counter that a woman I seemed to recognize sat and began talking with grannie. Maybe from high school, she was somewhere around my age, or so it seemed to me. I stood waiting as the two talked. Gran finally motioned for me to sit.

Around ten minutes later the lady stood, "It was so good to see you Harriet. It's been way too long. I'll visit more often now that we're neighbors." I stood to shake her hand and introduce myself. She smiled.

"Hey George, I haven't seen you in decades. Gotta go, bye Harriet."

On the way to the gas station I asked gran how that lady would know me because I couldn't remember who she was. She chuckled.

"Do you remember Claire Bachmann? She was a few years ahead of you, anyway she moved away for college, she and Pauline were close friends. Pauline chose farm life, Claire chose... hmm, I'm not sure what she chose, but she needed a college degree for it, whatever it was."

I grinned and reminisced. Did I remember Claire Bachmann? How could I forget. It was she who taught me about sex the weekend before I left for the Army. She'd been home to visit, found out from Paulie that I was leaving and decided I shouldn't join the military as a virgin. What a Saturday night, she was patient, encouraging me to slow down as things heated up and made it the best experience of my young life.

I was uncertain what to do after we were naked, she pulled me on top, reached between us to grab my dick, moistened the tip in her slippery warm folds and pulled me forward. As I entered her vagina it was like heaven, never had I felt anything so miraculously warm and smooth. It enveloped my cock like a soft delicate sheath attempting to draw me in further. I knew what to do after that. I was balls deep in three strokes, she was smiling at me, lifting her hips to meet mine and telling me I was doing good.

Sadly I didn't last long, after I softened she told me to lay with her on the blanket a few more minutes. She obviously knew more about what would happen than I did, in less than ten minutes she had me rock hard again. The second go round was with her on top, moving up and down she took my hands and put them on her breasts. What a night, pussy twice and getting to feel her tits while she rode me. Thankfully I lasted longer the second time, long enough for her to climax as well.

As the orgasm passed she flopped own on top of my chest, our hearts were pounding hard enough we could feel it. I remembered asking if she would be my girl and write to me. She smiled and softly stroked my face with the palm of her hand.

"I'll try to write George, but I'm taking 16 credits per semester, and I can't promise. As for being your girl, I can't. You'll be gone four years and I'll be in a doctorate program by then. That won't work. How about this, instead of being your girl, I'll be your goodbye girl. The one who said goodbye by making you a man."

Did I remember Claire Bachmann grannie had asked. Oh yeah.

Back in the car after fueling I inquired, "What did she mean now that your neighbors?"

"Yeah, that's interesting. The story goes that old man Simpson was ready to retire and sell the farm to some real estate developer like the Bachmann's did with their pasture land. Next thing ya know it isn't for sale anymore, someone had bought it, lock, stock and barrel. Turns out it was Claire. She sold the cattle and had an auction for the bulk of the machinery. I think she kept a couple of old pieces. The ag land is leased mostly to the Boyers, Lord knows they need more land if they're gonna milk enough cows to support two families. Their oldest and his family live on the farm in a mobile home."

When we got home I helped gran into the bedroom and onto the bed for a nap while I set out to look at the buildings once more. In the bright daylight I could see more holes in the barn roof, it was going to be more than a patch job, more like an entire replacement. If that was going to be the case then I would have a metal roof installed, longer guarantee and far less maintenance. Walking around the chicken coop I made the decision to rent an excavator and put it into a pile. The local volunteer fire departments were always looking for old buildings to burn for training.

Standing in the empty milk house I was imaging how I could turn it into an impromptu workshop. Unlike most milk houses it had a room off to the side with doors to keep it dry. Gramps would store feed in there at times. If I removed the wall between the spare room and milkhouse it would be not only dry and heat able, but somewhere to keep my tools, set up a table saw, miter saw, and bench with a vise. With its own 100amp panel there would be more than enough power available. Opening the breaker panel door I noticed there were several open circuits. I was just about to walk out when the door opened, in walked Claire.

"Hi again neighbor." She chirped.

I smiled, "The goodbye girl. We never did get those letters written did we?"

With a grin she shook her head, "Nope we sure didn't. I thought about you from time to time wondering where you might be. I was just down along the creek bottom looking for Morell's by the dead Elms. They seem to grow best on the north side. At least, that's where we always found them as kids, I saw you moving around and thought I'd stop in. How does it feel walking around the farm after being gone over 30 years?"

My first thought was, yeah, things had certainly changed, then I spoke.

"It's different that's for sure. I almost didn't recognize the town. Everything has changed. When did they move the bridge over the river? It used to be by the IGA."

She looked at the floor a minute, "Mmm, its gotta be 8 or 9 years now. Downtown was flooded one too many times, the riverbanks were raised and covered in rip-rap so they didn't erode. Then the new bridge was built by what is now the Festival grocery store, which opened a few years ago. Downtown hasn't flooded since. It took them almost fifteen months to complete."

Walking from the milkhouse down the driveway I asked, "How long have you lived here? I mean on the Simpson farm? How do you know all that stuff about town?"

"I used to get the local weekly fish wrap sent to me, it was always a week or so after publication but at least I kept up with what was happening. It may sound odd, but I found the obituaries and high school sports to be the most interesting. I bought the farm two years ago, took a two-month sabbatical from my work, got the herd sold, machinery and equipment auctioned off and the land leased. I knew Mr. Simpson wanted to go south but wasn't quite ready. We worked out a deal where he could live on the farm paying utilities only. No rent. It worked for him, worked for me, I had someone on the farm, he had a place to live."

She still hadn't told me how long she'd been living on the farm. I was about to ask again when she piped up.

"I moved here about eight months ago, last fall. Mr. Simpson was ready to leave, and I was ready to retire. Long story short, here I am."

We'd been jabbering almost an hour when she announced it was time to go home. I walked with her to the end of the driveway.

"I'm sure I'll see you again George. This old creek, I'll bet it has some tales to tell. Say hi to Harriet and have a good evening."

"It was nice to see you again Claire, my goodbye girl."

She laughed, "That was one very exciting night wasn't it?"

Up until that point I hadn't paid much attention to what she looked like. Watching her hips sway slightly as she walked away I made a mental assessment. Her hair looked natural with some streaks of grey here and there. It appeared that she had all her teeth and her body wasn't rickety. Her face exhibited the crow's feet and wrinkles we all seem to sport with age. Her chest wasn't too big or too small, it didn't appear to have changed much in all the years. They fit her slender anatomy perfectly. I found myself wondering if I would ever have my hands on those wonderful mounds again. All in all she looked good for being 53. Yup, I'd do her again.

Walking toward the house I spotted gran on the porch rocking gently. My grannie, what a woman, I was in my late teens before I realized her name was Harriet. Everyone around me always called her Grannie, including all her kids. I plunked myself in the old Adirondack chair next to the swing, I could remember it being there when I was a kid. Gran looked at me with a grin.

"I see you and Claire talking on the bridge. What was that all about?"

"Oh, mostly talking about her buying the farm and then moving here last fall. How could she afford to buy that farm? She must be loaded."

She sighed and proceeded, "According to your sister she didn't get just one degree, she got 3 of um. One in Physics, one in Chemistry, and another in mathematics. Something about she had to take all that math for her Physics and Chemistry doctorate, so she figured why not do the math one right away. Anyway, she was hired by some company in Japan as a research scientist in medical biology for their stateside lab. Destroying atoms and all that stuff according to Pauline."

I was taken aback, "Wow, that's quite a story."

Gran smirked, "That aint the half of it. After working in their US branch a few years they paid to move her to Tokyo where she was a senior scientist. It's also where she lived and worked for over 25 years. Never been married, saved her money. She also received a pile of money when her brother sold the pasture land to developers. Word was they each got over 300 grand, and there's another 217 acres to sell when she and her brother are ready. It's his boy that has the diesel business. Just after she bought Simpson's the company she worked for wanted to downsize and she was ready to retire. They offered her a huge severance, she would have been nuts not to take it. She worked for them another six months training someone to take her place and came home last September."

I must have looked stunned, "Close your mouth Georgie, the flies will get in. You about ready for supper? I'm famished."

Meat loaf, mashed potatoes with gravy from the drippings and steamed carrots. Yes, it was good to be back and despite having eaten lunch I had a strong appetite. I knew at that point the fresh air and manual labor were going to be good for me. Having been in the Army Corp of Engineers, manual labor and long hours weren't foreign to me, but as an E-8 the past six years I'd spent more time behind a desk than on the job. Not that I was flabby, more like I was in need of a tune up. As much as I wanted to pull the '37 out and start working on it I knew that if I started, everything else would take a back seat. Knowing it was still there gave me peace of mind.

The next few days were spent measuring, calculating, and researching prices of materials. Gone were the days of reasonably priced lumber. I nearly messed my pants when I noticed that common wall grade 2x4 studs were close to $5 each. I wanted to be pissed as I did more research until it dawned on me, grumbling and moaning wasn't going to change the price. It was what it was, therefore, I needed to prioritize. I had the money, that wasn't the issue. The next morning I was talking about what needed to be done and the cost of materials with gran at breakfast. She sat back.

"Then do it. Get the stuff you need and do it. I bank most of what I get from leasing the land. There's plenty of money in the farm account for those repairs. It'll be smart money spent in the long run. This farm will go to you and your sister someday, may as well take care of it."

It wasn't that I didn't have plenty of my own money. E-8 pay is substantial and considering my retirement would be 75% of that base pay each month I had no worries. Combined with what I had stashed away in savings and investments I could live debt free until death. After lunch I was on the porch checking my eyelids for holes when gran hobbled out and put a ledger in my lap.

"It's all in there. Look at it and figure out what you wanna order first."

I perused the pages for about ten minutes, closed the ledger and looked at her.

"Gran. There's over $143,000 in this account. What were you planning to do with it? And how do you pay your bills?"

She smiled, "I still get Merle's SS every month, that's enough to cover my expenses. The land leases cover taxes and the rest. If you hadn't come home the money would have set there until I croaked, then you and Pauline could fight over it."

I chuckled to myself. Well of course she had money in the bank. Anyone who had lived through the depression years knew how to do without and save money. Later that day Paulie stopped in to see how I was adjusting. I was in the milkhouse making a bench when she opened the door. As we talked about the upcoming projects the money in the farm account came up. She held up her hand.

"Did she tell you about the cash in the cigar box under her bed? No? I'm not surprised. George, there's nearly $35,000 cash in that box. About five years ago she had a similar amount, I convinced her to put it in the bank. By the time the bank got done asking where she got all that money and the rest of their bullshit questions she swore never again. Says she needs it just in case."

I looked at her, "Just in case what?"

"I have no idea and neither does she George. But it isn't worth a pissin contest and now that you're living with her I won't worry. You still have your guns, don't you?"

I nodded as she continued, "Good, not that you'll likely need them, but you can't be too careful with all these crazy asswipes running around."

I hated to broach the subject but I needed to know. "Gran says Rod's not doing well. How are things?"

With a dead serious look she stated, "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies."

I winced, "That bad huh?"

Tears had begun to well in her eyes, "Worse. He's in stage 4. The oncologist told him 6 to 9 months, which is bullshit. I've been with that man over 30 years, I know him better than he knows himself. If he makes it four months I'll be surprised. I felt sorry for the young doctor he had. When he gave him a prognosis of 6 to 12 months Rod laughed. Then he said, "That's why they call you guys practicing physicians, cuz you don't know shit. You're just practicing."

I laughed until my belly hurt.

"It aint funny George. I wanted to crawl in my shoe. The guy was trying to be optimistic and give Rod some hope. It was well intentioned even if it was wrong."

She looked at her watch, "I should get going. I heard you met Casey at the café?"

"Oh, I thought her name was Claire."

"It is. The only ones who call her that are people gran's age and her mom. She prefers to be called Casey these days."

Casey huh? I would make sure I kept that tidbit on file for future reference. After having a contractor look at and price a new metal roof on the barn at over fifty grand I thought, up yours. I was born at night, but not last night. When I figured the price of all the materials it came to just over twenty grand, I was sure I could hire someone to do the install for less than thirty grand. Discussing my hesitance about the contractor over supper one evening gran gave me a heads up.

"You know. You should go see them Amish guys over in Bells valley. They're younger guys who broke away from the old ways, they use trucks and modern stuff at a much lower rate than what you were quoted. If you bought the materials and paid them labor I'll bet they'd go for it."

I was confused, "They aren't Amish anymore?"

"Oh, they're Amish, have Amish wives and kids. The wives now wear dresses more like the Mennonites and without the big bonnets. The guys just use modern tools and stuff. Rumor is when the first of them got electricity and laundry equipment all the rest of the wives did as well. Why the heck would you be washing by hand and hanging them to dry in this day and age. Mind you, I like hanging sheets in the warm weather, but not everything. There aint nuthin like sleepin on fresh sheets that flapped in the breeze all day."

After talking with Pauline she offered to drive me to the area where the Amish families were living. She'd had them do work and was well pleased. We met with three men in their early thirties. After going over details concerning labor costs and job expectations we agreed on a price. They liked the fact that they wouldn't need any cash outlay for the metal roofing. I was assured they had several younger men working for them and that they would be ready to start as early as three weeks from that day. Which would give me time to have the materials ordered and delivered.

I was on the computer the next morning checking the social media shopping sites when the land line began to ring. Gran meandered to the phone.

"Hello. This is Harriet. If yer sellin something I aint buyin."

Silence and then, "Oh, hi Claire. Yup, he's here. Just a minute."

I took the phone from gran, "Howdy neighbor. Paulie said you call yourself Casey now. Is that what I should call you?"

I could hear a soft chuckle before she spoke, "No, I think I'd like you to call me Claire, we have too much history to start with a new name. I'll explain the name changing thing some other time. Hey, Paulie said you were looking to have a new roof put on the barn. Is that right?"

"Yep. None of the beams are rotted so if I stop the leaks now it should last a good long time. I struck a deal with the Amish guys, now I need to find steel at a reasonable price."

R410a
R410a
2,943 Followers