Lost and its characters belong to JJ Abrams, Bad Robot and crew. I'm just borrowing for some fun. Summary – Kate and Jack share a moment on the beach.
Lost – A Farm in Iowa
By Mystic
November 4th 2005
The ocean reminded her of her childhood. Dark and dangerous and cold. If she stuck her feet in the waters, she'd flash back to days trudging in the mud in an old field, her father shouting at her to work faster. She remembered the farm. Remembered the animals and the cornfields and the way the dirt felt under her bare feet when it was summertime, when it was thick and dark and squirted up between her toes. She remembered the crops and dusters in the sky and the way it felt in the wintertime when her cheeks burned red and the ground was solid.
Kate remembered her childhood well.
Sometimes she pretended it didn't exist. She made up all new ones where her family was great and nothing went wrong and she wasn't in trouble all the time. She painted a picture of a childhood where her mother braided her hair and her father read her bedtime stories at night. A childhood where she married her Tom and she had nine babies and they lived happily ever after.
The waves splashed at her toes and she saw the rain on the field. The thunder was deafening that night. It whipped through the dark sky and slapped at the ground somewhere nearby and the sound made her shiver. She pulled the hoe, dragging it through the mud to make the straight lines, but she wasn't putting enough pressure. She wasn't making them deep enough and the heavy raindrops would just slide the soil back into the hole she'd made. Her father shouted at her and she heard him slam open the squeaky screen door and jump down from the porch.
"Dammit, Katie!" He screamed, shoving her away and taking the tool from her. She hit the mud with a splash, feeling it soak in through her overalls and coat her hands as she pushed off the ground. He went down to the beginning of the field and slammed the end of the hoe into the ground and pulled, walking swiftly up. Her father left a neat line straight through the mud that didn't dare fill with water. Even the rain was afraid of him.
She stood, shaking, and watched him dig the whole field and when he was done, he slapped a hand on her shoulder and guided her towards the porch. Kate stood in front of the doorway, inhaling the smell of pot roast and mashed potatoes and something like blueberry pie. It made her stomach ache.
"Katie, honey, aren't you coming in?" Her father asked with that edge to his voice. Like he was still angry, but trying to cover it. Her father never scolded her in front of her mother. Kate watched the woman walk in and out of the kitchen, taking items to the dining room table. "Awe, dammit, Katie," her father approached her, knelt down in front of her and wiped the mud off her face. "Come on in, you look like a wet dog. Hell, a wet dog'd look better than you right now."
She watched a large wave crash down on the water and she inhaled, shaking the memory away. Kate felt the fur brush her leg and jumped away, hearing Jack laugh somewhere behind her. She glanced down at Vincent, who panted up at her before sitting at her side.
"For a second there, I thought you were going to scream like a girl," Jack told her gently, coming to stand beside Vincent.
She looked at him, smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared out at the ocean. Kate wondered what he saw there. Did Jack have memories that haunted him like she did? She was sure he had some. She'd seen the tortured look that crossed his face sometimes, like he was thinking about something deep down inside that he didn't want anyone else to know about.
"For a second there, I almost did," Kate admitted, letting her right hand drop to pet the dog that sat calmly between them.
Jack sighed and inhaled the ocean breeze and Kate smiled at him. It was a rarity to have just a quiet moment with him. She knew it was her fault, but it seemed every time she went to him, it was for something dramatic. It was nice, just standing together.
"So where does it take you?" She asked him curiously, watching his eyes crease just a second before he turned to look at her. He always had that question in his eyes, the one that asked her where she was going.
"Take me?" Jack dropped his hands at his sides, the left coming up to grip his waist.
Nodding her head towards the ocean, she licked her lips. "The ocean. Where does it take you."
"Where does it take you?" He grinned, watching the annoyance flicker across her face.
"To a farm in Iowa," she admitted, frowning.
Jack nodded, taking in the information. "That the truth?"
She jerked away and looked up at him, but knew it was a fair question. "I lived on a farm part of my life. I've lived a lot of places."
He laughed. Kate turned away, watching a new set of waves crash on the ocean top. "A playground in Los Angeles," Jack told her.
"What?" She didn't mean to sound so confused. The answer was just as psychotically random as hers.
He nodded his head. "There used to be this playground behind my elementary school. My friends and I would spend all our free time there." Jack watched her as she stared back out at the ocean. "They had monkey bars and swings – the old kind with the wooden seat – and asphalt. Not many playgrounds out there now with asphalt."
"No," Kate agreed.
"I busted my knees open quite a few times on that asphalt." Jack glanced down at his boots in the sand and looked over. "What's on the farm?"
Kate glanced up at him and frowned. She touched Vincent's head and bit her lip and walked away from Jack. She didn't want to think about it anymore. Kate listened to the waves as she made her way back into the jungle, where the birds would block out her memories and Jack wouldn't follow.
Finis