Lost and Found

When Frank returned from the war he was suffering from PTSD and his wife had disappeared. His home was occupied by strangers who’d bought the house completely legally. His wife had told him she was pregnant just as he’d gone through the barrier to go abroad and never wrote to him nor replied to his letters thereafter. He didn’t know whether he had a son or a daughter or if she lost or terminated the baby like she told him she was going to do at the last minute. Frantic with grief and worry he left for the war, but soon was too busy trying to stay alive to give the matter much thought. Constantly under fire he only managed sleep when utterly exhausted. Eventually he was returned home ETS, expiration terms of service. He done what he’d signed up for and was then a civilian.

A neighbour told him his wife had given birth to a boy, but he could find no trace of either of them. The neighbour didn’t know what his son’s name was nor where he’d been born. The school records were no help and he’d no idea where to try next. Unable to find work, and consequently a place to live he ended up homeless.

At a soup kitchen one day Frank met a very effeminate looking boy with long hair in a girl’s pony tail. They started talking and the child told him, “My name is Patricia, but it’s safer to to dress like a boy if you’ve got no home.”

“I’m Frank. How old are you, Patricia?”

“Going on six. Want to sit with me, Frank, while we drink our soup? It’s got meat in it today. Usually it’s just vegetables.”

“Okay. At your age how do you avoid the social services and the schools people?”

“Mostly by hanging with adults, like you. If they see me with a grown up they go to bother someone else. That woman over there is one of them. That’s why I decided to talk to you.”

“How did you know I was safe? I could have been a child molester or anything.”

“Naw. I’m good at weighing up people. You’re a veteran with PTSD. I’ve met hundreds like you on the streets. Nice men who gave everything they had to the government who used them till they’d got nothing left to use and then got threwn away on the garbage heap. My mother told me my dad was in the military. She said he died in the war. Maybe he was maybe he wasn’t, maybe he did maybe he didn’t. She was the world’s best liar. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’d no idea who he was. She said she had money when I was born. I couldn’t see that because she was living in a squat as far back as I can remember. She did a lot of drugs and turned tricks to pay for them.”

“She over dosed?”

“Naw. She just left when I was four, but I’m clever and managed to survive. Probably the only good thing she ever did for me was leave. I’m better off living on the street than with her. She associated with some real low lifes. You finished that soup?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I know a baker who’ll give us some of the stuff that didn’t turn out perfect. He likes me and I sweep up for him from time to time. He’s a real old man, a veteran from Nam, he says. He likes vets, so he’ll feed us both.”

“You’re pretty sharp for five.”

Patricia grinned and said, “Living on the street makes you sharp or gets you dead. Come on let’s go to Eddie’s for something to eat.”

“Who’s this, Tricia?”

“Frank. He’s a veteran. Nowhere to go and he’s hungry too. You got any jobs I can do for you, Eddie?”

“Sure, but after you’ve eaten. Take your friend into the bake house and help yourself to coffee. Sit at the table and I’ll get you something to eat. No thanks needed, Soldier. You’ve done your share.”

Frank said quietly, “I was a marine.”

“No offence intended.”

“None taken. Thanks for the food.”

After eating the pair did the few odd jobs for Eddie and took the letters he gave them to drop at the post office. The oddly mismatched pair were both reluctant to part and found a hot air outlet behind a store to settle down next to for the night. Patricia explained, “I’ve never slept next to one of these before. Someone always chases me away to sleep here themselves.”

“Don’t worry about it. This place is ours tonight.” Sure enough half an hour later they were disturbed by a pair of teenagers who told them to go. They both had a knife with maybe a five or six inch blade. Frank stood as if to go and said, “It’s Crocodile Dundee time, boys,” and pulled a fourteen inch knife. “I suggest you go. I’ve just spent five years in a war killing people with a knife just like this. Killing two more won’t make any difference to me, and if you are stupid enough to pull a gun I’ll blow you in half with what I’m packing. I doubt if the police will even bother to investigate your deaths because my bet is they already know who you are and will regard your deaths as a significant local amenity improvement. Now fuck off before I lose my temper.”

The boys noticing he had his hand in his coat pocket fled and Patricia said, “Cool, Pops. The word will spread and you’ll be left alone.”

It was never spoken about but the pair stayed together. Patricia was streetwise and knew where to find food and shelter and a bit of work for Frank too. Eventually she found a night watchman’s job on a building site for Frank. There was a cabin with a stove, and Frank asked Gerry the foreman if his daughter could stay with him to keep warm. “Daughter? Little Trish is your daughter?”

“Yeah.”

“No problems. She runs errands for the guys, collecting newspapers and lunches for them sometimes. Didn’t know she had a dad. If she does that, and you keep the coffee going all day for the guys the pair of you can live in the cabin till the job’s complete. I’ll pay you what we agreed and the guys will be glad to tip you both for the service. What do you say, Frank?”

“If it’s okay with Patricia, it’s okay with me. Thanks. I’ll ask her.”

“You keep the coffee going, Pops, and I’ll tell the guys to bring flasks and if you fill them I’ll take them to where they’re working. They all get paid by the job, so they’ll earn more not having to come up here for coffee. I’ll ask Jimmy who operates one of the machines to smash up some pallets for us to keep the stove going with.”

One day Patricia said, “I need a pee, but there’re no women’s facilities anywhere near, so I’ll have to go behind the cabin.”

Frank saw her go behind the cabin but saw her reflection in the cabin window. He saw her standing, or more to the point she didn’t squat. When she returned he said, “I thought you were a girl?”

“I am.”

He pointed to the window and said I saw your reflection in the window. You stood to pee. Girls squat.”

Patricia flushed but holding his gaze she replied, “So I’m a girl with a penis. What of it?”

“You’re trans?”

“Yeah. That’s why Candy that bitch of a mother of mine left me on my own. She said I was an abomination and a pervert. A bit rich really come from a crack head whore.”

“What was your mother’s surname?”

“Richards. Why?”

“She was Candy Alice Richards?”

“Yeah how did you know that?”

“I’m Francis John Richards. I am or maybe that’s was her husband. Just before I left for the war she told me she was pregnant and was going to get a termination. I found out when I returned she’d had a boy, but I didn’t have a name and the school records didn’t have a boy surnamed Richards of the right age. You really are my daughter, Patricia.”

Patricia was crying as she stammered out, “Can I call you Daddy not Pops?”

“I’d really love that, Sweetie. We need a proper job for me, so we can find a proper place to live. We need you in school. I feel better about life than I have since I went away.” The pair hugged closely and as Frank kissed her forehead he was crying too.

That her dad responded to her as Patricia, his daughter and didn’t even ask what her dead name was made her heart almost burst with joy. “Daddy, you are ex military right?”

“You know that.”

“So you know about security, right?”

“Course I do.”

“Did you have a rank?”

“Yeah.” Frank looked grim. “Due to a lot of guys not making it I was a sergeant.”

“Why don’t you have a talk with Gerry. You don’t need to work for anybody else. Start a security outfit. I know loads of vets down on their luck who’d leap at the job. Gerry knows loads of places that need good security. I’ve run errands for a few of them. You and I got really lucky. We found each other, but there’re loads of street kids who’d be happy to find a dad who would look after them even if he wasn’t their real dad. Do you reckon some of the vets would buy into that?”

“Yeah. A lot were dumped by their families when they were overseas. A chance at starting again with a job and a kid or even kids even if they had no wife would be welcomed. You seriously reckon we can make this work, Sweetie?”

“Two chances, Daddy. Going to be some failures, but yeah, I reckon we can make this work, but I want to provide soup kitchens and shelters too as part of it.”

“Vets with PTSD and street kids! Soup kitchens and shelters! Who’d have thought it. You really are something special, you know that, Sweetie?”

“Course I am, Daddy. I’m not just anybody’s little girl. I’m your little girl, and you’re special.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Richards, but I have to say we have been more than satisfied with the service you have provided our company. We’ll fund the soup kitchen and make the required contribution to your new shelter. Our losses due to theft have dramatically reduced since your company took over our security and you seem to have been able to produce results with a remarkably small number of people on site. That did worry us initially, but no longer. You clearly have a total understanding of your business even if we don’t. How do you explain that? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“It’s not the number of people you deploy, it’s the quality of those people and the environment they find themselves in. I only employ veterans, women as well as men. I don’t care how they served or in what capacity or in what branch of the military. Many were homeless till I employed them. They are used to being in a military environment and that’s how I run my business. Like the military, I provide whatever they need in order to serve. Many were threwn away when they left the service and so were homeless without any hope. I didn’t just give them a job, I gave them hope and in many cases a home environment too. I’m sure you’ve heard that many of my employees have adopted children from off the streets. Well that’s all part of it. And before you ask, the inspiration for what has become a multi million dollar empire in scarcely two years was provided by my daughter who was six at the time. She is trans, so I bought into it so as to be able to provide the money for her needs as she grew up. If that is offensive to you just rip the contract up. I won’t fight your decision, but I’ll reserve the right to discuss your bigotry with all and anyone I meet in future.”

“No, no, Mr. Richards, absolutely not! Your daughter must be a truly remarkable little girl. To make it absolutely clear that we have no problems with that at all I’ll here and now offer an internship in any capacity we are able to provide when she reaches an age where that is appropriate. If you like we’ll add a clause to that effect in our contract.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it, though I would like my legal people to cast their eyes over it before I sign.”

“Naturally.”

Frank was still recruiting veterans off the streets for his still rapidly expanding business when he met Amelia, a gunnery corporal who had found it impossible to reintegrate into civilian life. PTSD and rejection by her family who had not approved of her service had hurt. That they’d expected her to become the submissive and servile little wife to the man of their choice on her return had driven her away and she’d ended up like so many living in her car. Frank was a sergeant and she was a corporal and she accepted his rank had the right to command hers. It was what she was used to and in no way implied her inferiority as a human being. She joined his business gladly. At work he commanded, in private he was humble and treated her as in her opinion a man should treat a woman. In return she treated him as in his opinion a woman should treat a man. Marriage was inevitable. Patricia had a mother and more to the point a mother who didn’t care what her birth gender had been.

Frank was gentle when he suggested that Amelia had no need to work. His fortune he explained was hers too. Amelia was reluctant, but Patricia wanted a mother and siblings too. “Daddy,” she explained, “is not much fun to go shopping with. I’d far rather go with you, Mommy. At least you’d understand and help. Daddy does his best, but I swear he’s colour blind, and the moment I start talking lingerie I can see in his eyes that he’d rather be at the battle front again.”

Amelia chuckled and said,“Okay, Patricia. I do understand what you mean. It’s not his fault, he’s just a typical male marine. You’ve convinced me. Anyway, I’ll have to give up work soon. Your father has given us all a present. We’ll open it in about six months when your sister is born. So let’s have a major shop. More grown up clothes for you and maternity wear for me.”

Samantha was the first of Amelia’s six children.

Patricia’s last surgery was to her family a minor event which made her very happy, after all she was a girl and it was just surgery to confirm that which from her point of view was a minor issue. The main issue was that she was a girl which had been accepted by her family from the beginning. Now she not only looked like a pretty young woman to others from the outside she looked like a pretty young woman to herself from every point of view, and so she was now confident enough to consider finding herself a young man.

“That was an absolutely brilliant experience, Daddy.”

“Well they promised you an internship and I have to say they delivered far more than they had to. They have offered the same to your brothers and sisters, and are keen to have you back when you return from your year in France. Your mother wants to take you and your sisters shopping in New York before you leave. I’ve said I’ll take your brothers hunting in Alaska for the week. You okay with that?”

“I suppose, but I really would like to go hunting with you and the boys sometime. Some of the girls would like that too, Daddy. Daddy, could I bring a friend?”

“Okay. I’ll deal with it, but it’ll have to be Easter next year. Okay. Who’s the friend?”

“His name is Græme McIlroy. He’s from Prince Edward Island and he knows I’m trans. He doesn’t care about that and he likes me a lot. I like him a lot too. I’d like to bring him to meet you.

“You serious about this boy, Sweetie?”

“I think so, Daddy. I don’t want to rush into anything, but I’m definitely interested in him.”

“How old is he?”

“A month younger than I am, but he seems older. He’s serious, doesn’t laugh easily, but he’s clever, honest and wants to continue his medical studies into transgender matters. You will find him difficult to understand, sure as hell I do, but he will be respectful to you and Mom and it will be genuine.”

“Okay, I get the picture. He can’t be any more difficult to relate to than I was, or your mom come to that. I hope it works for you, both of you. I’ll wise your mother up. I suggest you do too.”

“Thanks, Daddy.”

“Well, they’re married now, Amelia. What happens next?”

“They intend to adopt street kids. Did you seriously expect anything else?”