Back to Grad School

"I thought you were exclusively a red wine man, Jack." Maggie commented, playfully.

"I stray from the norm on occasion, particularly in the heat of summer when it gets too damned hot for reds."

It was an impressive wine collection not because it included a big selection of prominently displayed trophy wines, often purchased as a status symbol but because of its eclectic choices. The two moved outside to explore the grounds. The dogs gleefully joined them in their exploration.

"Maggie, this is a working farm of just over 1,000 acres. I have a full time manager who lives just on the other side of that corn field to your left. We grow entirely too much corn and he often grumbles about it. I grew up surrounded by the soft swish of corn blowing in the breeze. We also grow soy beans, oats and, of course, lots of hay. We have a small dairy herd which is hardly profitable. I bought out a bankrupt farmer to the South, invited him to stay on, modernized the operation and pay him a salary which amounts to more than he ever made farming it himself. He lives rent free; actually I've already deeded the house he lives in and a few acres around it back to him, although he doesn't know it yet. He has full responsibility for the dairy herd and works with the farm manager on other things."

Jack continued to talk as they walked. "The chickens aren't really a cash crop but another one of my idiosyncrasies. Same goes for the hogs; they basically break even. The beef cattle actually make money. By the time I pay the expenses and salaries to include bonuses, the whole thing breaks even---which is all I ever needed it to do. We also run a small truck garden operation which started as a big vegetable garden for the three families and assorted farm workers and turned into a commercial endeavor. Actually what is turning into the real money maker started out as a hobby---fish. In fact this year, in spite of my generous profit sharing plan, we're going to make money, thanks to the fish."

"Fish? Like cat fish?"

"No, they do far better in the South. We raise rainbow trout, primarily for the high end restaurant trade. We also raise Koi on a wholesale basis---another hobby that got out of control. Do you want to see them?"

"I'd love to."

They entered the small barn which contained an old but obviously serviceable open seated, door-less jeep Wrangler.

"You might want to fasten your seat belt. I'm going to go pretty slow so the dogs can keep up but there are a few bumps in the road. I had to hire another full time manager to handle the fish operation. He has years of experience in aquaculture but never had the capital to really make a go of it on a large scale. The fish business is separate from the rest and is set up as a limited liability company or LLC. My manager is really part owner and doesn't draw a salary."

They bounced along the narrow gap between the corn rows; in a few minutes breaking out into an open area. On either side were hundreds of yards of man made ponds; at the far end of the ponds was a large concrete building.

"It took a few years to make this work, what with government regulation and all. We run fifty million gallons of fresh water through these ponds every day. We've dammed a small, spring fed river or creek at the top, taking almost two thirds of the flow. The river was---and still is, upstream---phosphate polluted with a high level of bacteria from inadequate sewage disposal. We clean the water by running it through acres of vegetative filtration which soaks up the phosphates and the excess bacteria, then mechanically filter out the particulates that haven't settled out. We go through the whole process again at the down stream end of the operation. The water that reenters the stream bed is cleaner by far than it was when we acquired it."

Jack brought the jeep to a halt next to one of the ponds and continued. "After fighting us tooth and nail, the environmental wackos have become very good friends. We pump out the sludge periodically from the settling fields and the fish ponds and use it as organic fertilizer. Fortunately, heavy metals aren't a major problem but we test regularly to ensure that it stays that way. There was a small chemical plant up stream that posed a heavy metal problem. I bought it and fixed it. We've also joined with the government in a lawsuit, which we're about to win, which will force the worst offender up stream to upgrade their town's sewage system."

As they exited the jeep, Jack went over to a metal container attached to a post in the ground and scooped out a quart sized cup of fish food. "This is really cool." Jack said with a grin as he threw the food out into the middle of the pond.

Instantly hundred---maybe thousands---of iridescent bodies rushed to the surface in a feeding frenzy clearly demonstrating why they were called rainbows.

"They're huge!" Maggie exclaimed with glee. "They must be two feet long!"

"Actually they're normal size. Absent pollution, over fishing and excessive alien predators, the North American fresh water rainbow trout, according to historical accounts, was often found in this state by early settlers. They're certainly healthier as a food source than most wild fish---mercury is not an issue. We've spent a lot of time and money researching their natural diet and, within reason, have attempted to duplicate it. We also do selective breeding to ensure healthy stock. We provide fry to the state at no charge for repopulation of other streams. With their permission, we also release fry down stream in the river. We've shared our work with the University and they are doing some outstanding work attempting to reintroduce healthy strains in other waterways across the country."

They returned to the jeep and drove toward the concrete building as Jack continued. "We've constructed the ponds to make them uninviting to raccoons and other four footed predators who are essentially walkers not swimmers. Blue Herons are a strictly protected species but they prefer to walk into the water and don't really like to get their butt wet. We have a dozen recognized Heron rookeries; we've built several ponds just for them, stocked with garbage fish, that is, fish they will eat but which have little commercial value, with sloped sides so that they can walk in. We also have three Bald Eagle nests---you may well see one today. The deer are a constant battle. It's just not economically feasible to build the double eight foot fences to deny them access to crop fields. We've seeded a number of small patches along their established routes with a special grain, grass and Clover mixture which they find appetizing. We recycle absolutely everything---even the water---and compost our waste. We sell the excess through local garden centers."

As they exited the Jeep and prepared to enter the long low concrete building, Maggie realized that is was easily the length of a football field. As they entered, several workers looked up and greeted Jack by his first name as he greeted them and introduced them in the same manner. There were rows of concrete tanks, or more accurately concrete troughs, with dividers to separate the fish. There were thousands---tens of thousands---of fish graduated in size, becoming larger as they progressed.

"This is truly the hobby that got out of control. They're all Koi, many bred right here and domestic. Others are from imported stock from all over the world. The imported stock fetch a higher price but are no where near as sturdy as the domestic bred fish. For the homeowner who just wants a nice Koi pond, I always recommend the domestics. They're essentially cold water fish who tolerate our winters very well and lack the inbreeding for show purposes that can weaken their immune systems. The water from the spring fed river stays close to fifty five degrees year round. We occasionally have to do a little cooling in the summer and warming in the winter."

At the end of the building were four large twenty thousand gallon crystal clear concrete pools and one slightly larger pool. They were brimming with Koi---big Koi. All were over eighteen inches, many over two feet and a few thirty inches or better.

Jack continued the narrative. "Those four tanks are all domestic but selectively bred for show quality. Ten years ago you couldn't win with a domestic fish; we're changing that, but the old prejudices still abound. This last pool is all certified Japanese imported stock. They're all at least a foot and a half. It's thirty thousand gallons and receives additional filtration and treatment in order to abide these animals particularly picky needs. There are around three hundred fish in this tank, which would be overstocked unless the water wasn't virtually reverse osmosis drinking water quality---which it is---with selected minerals and such added back to precisely duplicate their native environment. Three hundred fish with an average value of at least $10,000 each; it's your basic $3,000,000 aquarium."

"People actually pay $10,000 for a single fish?" Maggie inquired.

"People do---and even more. I certainly wouldn't. I've never been interested in the show aspect of Koi. I just like them. They're beautiful and amazingly intelligent---for fish---and quite friendly. Watch this."

Jack knelt at the edge of the large tank and placed his fingers in the water. All of the occupants swam over expecting food; most left when the food was not provided. One lingered. Jack stroked its body and scratched it's snout as one might do with a canine; the fish raising its body almost out of the water to receive the attention. The two foot specimen allowed him to lift its body from the water briefly. Jack invited her to stroke the creature, then quickly returned it to its life giving element.

"With a little time and attention they'll all do that in the right environment. She's my special buddy." Jack commented softly.

Jack and Maggie exited the building and returned to the jeep as Jack continued the tour. They passed several of the specially prepared deer fields; to her surprise and delight, small herds were foraging. They looked up, unafraid and resumed their meal. Jack and Maggie drove by and briefly stopped at the hog farm and the associated smoke house. To her amazement, there was no smell.

"It takes a lot of work and money to eliminate the smell; that was the deal we made with our neighbors...that and free bacon! We slaughter and smoke on the premises and sell most of the product as high end, overpriced specialty ham and bacon."

They drove by the chicken farm. "All organic, free range and premium priced. It's a small operation and most of it stays local."

They passed a herd of perhaps seventy-five or a hundred dairy cows grazing. "This is also a small operation which stays very local. We bottle here and sell it in returnable glass bottles...the old fashioned kind with the cream on the top. We're thinking of getting into ice cream."

As they stopped at various times in their journey Jack would introduce her to the workers and managers. He always used first names and they reciprocated. The boss man obviously was well liked by his people. All were relaxed in his presence...just as Maggie had become. They felt very comfortable and joked with him easily. This farm had everything one could imagine...except a good woman. Am I that woman, she wondered? Is this where I belong with this very special man?

After passing acres of assorted crops, they came upon a massive pasture with hundred of beef cattle serenely grazing.

"This is the heart of the legitimate farm, that is, other than the fish operation. We produce a higher than normal level of organically certified USDA Prime. We age and package it here on the property. Most of it goes to the high end restaurant trade---fresh, never frozen. About a third goes to the better markets in the state and surrounding states that are willing to handle it according to our strict standards. It's not technically Kobe beef but the differences are virtually unrecognizable even to the most discerning pallet. We simply produce the very best piece of beef in the United States. Our choice grade---what we sell as choice---exceeds the USDA standard and is also private labeled. What's left goes into a high end private label line of dog food, canned, frozen and dry, with certified human quality ingredients."

"Maggie instantly recognized the brand. "That's what I feed my dog!" She exclaimed like a joyful school girl.

Before she realized it they were back at the farm house. The dogs were delightfully exhausted and plopped in a heap on the cool grass...even the fluffy one. It was now nearing mid day as the two humans entered Jack's spacious home and settled in the living room---or maybe it was a family room or great room; Maggie wasn't sure.

"It's a bit early for wine; I'm going to have a beer. I've got a lager, a respectable pilsner and a nice creamy stout...what's your pleasure?"

"I'll take the stout." Maggie replied.

"Damned good choice." Jack replied with a grin.

He quickly returned to her with too creamy mugs of one of her favorite confections. "It's not Guinness, but it's damned close. We make this too."

"Is there anything you don't make here?" She asked playfully.

"Not much. We're experimenting with wind, solar and hydraulic power generation. We already use some geothermal for heating and cooling. We have an old natural gas well that is no longer of commercial value but still provides over 80% of our needs. If the electricity goes out---as it so often does in this part of the country---we have gas fired generators. If the power failed right now, the lights would blink and then the generator would kick in. This house has been extensively reworked and designed to be passively solar. We don't have a source of salt, a few essential spices and herbs don't grow well here and the climate is all wrong for coffee beans, but that's about all we're lacking. I didn't show it to you, but we're trying some vineyards, although it will take a few years for the vines to mature. Good wine was once made in this part of the country---could be again. If we can get the local government to agree, we might just start making bourbon---hell we've got plenty of corn."

"You've taken self sufficiency to a new level!" Maggie remarked, almost bordering on coyness.

"Well, I have to hitch up the wagon and ride into town every now and again for some essentials but I have almost everything I need here...except perhaps a good woman."

"And is that what you ride into town looking for---a good woman?" Maggie asked, openly flirtatiously.

"I used to. But now I believe---I hope---I've found her, Maggie." Jack replied softly.

She was in his arms before she knew what was happening...those wonderful, strong arms... surrounding her, holding her, protecting her. Their lips met, probed, explored; their hands roamed over each other. Maggie broke the kiss gently.

"I'm sensing—hoping, actually—that sex is in the air." She paused. "Do I read the story now...or after?"

"Well, let's see. If you read it now, you'll know the ending---the very special ending--- but maybe that is how it is meant to be. I'll tell you what. I'll take my growing sexual frustration outside and entertain the pups---find them some bones to keep them occupied. I'll leave you alone to read it. Come get me when you're done. Is that fair enough?"

Maggie nodded wordlessly. Jack left to attend to the dogs and Maggie picked up the story and began to read. She didn't stop reading for almost half an hour, rereading certain parts over and over again.

It was a magnificent read; it was the best work Jack had done to date, quite possibly the best anyone had ever done. The woman was her...Maggie. How could he have read so much into her...how could he have discovered the essential core of Maggie Stevens? It was if he had been inside her head, reading her mind and feeling her emotions for a very long time. Not only did he know her in an uncanny and prescient way but the more his wonderful prose demonstrated how well he knew her, those same words clearly showed that he loved her. He should hardly know her but somehow he did and he loved her---for exactly who she was. Her eyes filled with tears; she had to stop reading for a few minutes to refocus.

Perhaps more startling was how incredibly he had bared his own soul, exposed his own vulnerabilities and given the reader a remarkable glimpse inside his head and heart. He had held nothing back; his hopes, dreams and fears were all here on these pages. There were no startling revelations or any dark secrets; he was, she was certain, the man she thought---had prayed---he was.

She got to the good parts---the sex. Oh, my God! Oh that sounds like fun...I've certainly never tried that before. It was wonderfully nasty but somehow always loving and romantic rather than just dirty. Even when he took her forcefully from behind in the shower, jamming his long, hard cock deep into the recesses of her womanhood. Jack had an uncanny ability to make erotic narrative incredibly arousing---she was unquestionably aroused and very wet---without losing the intimacy.

And then came the ending---the perfect closure. Two people who were meant to be together---who could not be more perfect for each other. A proposal...rings...a white dress...a honeymoon. Completeness each had searched for for so long and finally discovered. The fairy tale ending...her fairy tale... hers and Jack's. Fantasy or reality? She voted for the latter. They were adults---unattached adults. They wanted---needed—each other to become whole. She knew in that instant that she would do what was needed to make this story real; she had every confidence that Jack Powell was every bit as committed to that end.

Removing her clothes and laying then across a chair she walked to the open door and called to her lover, the man she had so desperate sought her entire life...the man with whom she was absolutely prepared to spend the rest of her life. The man she knew in every fiber of her being that she loved...and she now knew that he was ready to accept that love and return it in full measure.

"Jack."

He looked up, wordlessly, startled by her nakedness.

"Come to bed, Jack. It's time."

Removing his own clothes as he came to her he was soon as naked as she was and in her arms. They were as teen aged lovers in first discovery, passionately and urgently caressing one another with their hands and mouths. He lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the massive bed, kicking the door shut behind him to clearly indicate that this was not a puppy party. There was no plan...no road map for their coupling...well other than Jack's story. There was not a hint of awkwardness as the two lovers found each other as if they had done so a million times before.

This is a romantic love story with a happy ending. You know what they did for the rest of the day and into the night with occasional breaks for food and drink. They made love, over and over until both were deliriously exhausted. To describe their carnal pursuits in grizzly detail would detract from the essence of Jack and Maggie's special love story.

Suffice to say that it was wondrous, often lusty, adventurous and physical but always loving and intimate. Prince Charming and Snow White had found each other and would be together for the rest of their lives. They completed one another as no others could have. Jack and Maggie would make love together, snuggle together, play with their puppies together and live together. They would marry and they would go on a honeymoon. At some point they would even write together, becoming infinitely more successful as a team then either had been alone.

As the years went by and their respective children started their own families, the loving couple traveled often but always returned to that Midwestern farm where their deep love for each other was first consummated.