Editor's note: this submission contains scenes of incest or incest content.
Thanks to WA001 for the edits.
******
There I was cursing down the interstate heading home for the day. The wind blowing through the windows of my black '67 Chevy Impala hardtop. Yes, I'm a fanboy, so sue me. Yes, I'm that kind of fanboy that even has a devils trap on the underside of the trunk. Its 502-cubic-inch big block v8 purred as the engine hummed at eighty miles an hour. No. I didn't inherit the car. Found it on
Auto Trader
actually. Then spent the next four years in community college restoring it so I could practice my engineering skills, plus it's not like we had a lot of money. You know the saying: Idle hands do the devil's work and such. It wasn't a true restoration since I installed an A/C compressor and a Bluetooth enabled radio in it. Still, I love that car. Anyone who's lived on my street for any length of time would recognize the sound of the rumbling exhaust as I roll by. I'll give Roy this one little compliment, he could pick property. My eyes ran along the flowering Eastern Redbud trees that lined the driveway. When Roy and my grandmother had bought the place it was nothing more than farmland being sold off in chunks at the time. So now due to urban development my ten acres were completely surrounded. Not that I cared, I had a very spacious buffer zone.
"Who's piece of crap is that?" I muttered as the sound of my tires spoke as they rolled along the gravel. Eyeing the spot rusted, faded blue Buick as I drove past it to park in the very wide parking space Roy had cleared so if or when relatives came over no one got stuck and over stayed their welcome. Noting how it was parked underneath the cherry tree that sat at the left edge of the driveway. Shifting into park, sliding the key out of the ignition, not bothering to roll up the windows as I got out of my car. The gravel crunched underfoot as I made my way over to that out of place car. Arching an eyebrow when it was full of clothes and belongings, and it appeared to me someone was living within it. "Who the hell thinks they can squat here?" I asked, aloud. I turned my head at the sound of footsteps at the back of my house. "Hello...?" Instantly my anger shot up as my mother and her daughter came running around the corner. "You two want to tell me what the hell you're doing on my property?" I barked. Of course, I wasn't so blind not to note the scars, some old, some newer or the bar of soap in my mother's hand; or the fact that they both were in two piece swim suits.
"We didn't know when you'd be back," Pauline said, quickly hiding the bar of soap behind her back. Why was my mother ashamed? No, it couldn't be? I looked back to the car. They couldn't be living in that car? But why?
"We were trying to take a bath," Emily said aggressively, crossing her arms below her breasts. Casting me that look as she jutted out her left hip. For a second there I could have sworn I saw the vision of my young mother standing before me.
"Emily! Jacob doesn't need to know that!" My mother gasped. "He doesn't need to know of our..."
"I'm not ashamed of the sacrifices you made Mom." Sacrifices? What the hell is my half-sister going off about? "Don't let that ass," her chin gestured to me, "tell you otherwise. He doesn't know half of what we had to go through with Dad, or grandpa to you."
"You know what... I really don't care. Just get the fuck off my property," I said, waving off my sister as I walked towards the front steps of the wrap around porch.
"Please Jacob! Just give me a minute to explain?" I heard my mother rushing up from behind me.
"Explain what? What's there to explain!" I shouted throwing my arms into the air as I walked away.
"You're sister needs your help, if not she'll..." Okay, call me a softy but that did stop me in my tracks - literally.
"She'll what?" I asked, as I turned back. Noticing my mother on her knees bawling her eyes out into her towel.
"I'll die," Emily said, in that cold, sweet tone. "It's okay Mom. We knew this might happen. I'm already on the list. We'll just wait." List? Die? What the hell?! "I have aplastic anemia, that's the real reason we're really here. And before you ask, Mom stalks your Facebook page."
"
I guess I'm going to have to set that to private
," I muttered to myself.
"The reason she hasn't reached out is because that's her punishment to herself. To only be able to watch yet never to be able to speak with her own son. That's what she told me when I caught her staring at the small screen of her phone one day. The only thing Dad allowed any contact with the outside world in the apartment was that phone. I don't know what your life was like... listen I am sorry about your dad. I know me being here, or even alive is just a reminder of why he's dead. We honestly didn't know what had happened to him. They got me on medications that cost an arm and a leg. While it keeps the disease at bay, it's not a cure. Mom isn't a full match for me. And since you're my last close relative, I may have..."
"Alright, stop. If I'm going listen to this... lavished story. I'm going to need my strength to dig myself out of it," I said, trying to be polite, yet enforcing my displeasure at the notion. "That being said, I'm not about to be labeled a 'perv' by having two women bathing themselves in my backward. If you need a bath she can show you the way to the first floor bathroom and the guest room to change," I said, waving to my mother. "You have one hour, and I expect you not to wander through my home."
"Hey!"
"Emily don't!" I heard my mother hiss as I walked up the steps to the front door.
"I don't know you," I said darkly, as looked over her. "I'm not about to allow some person I don't have a clue about to wander my house freely. I don't trust you. We might share the same blood, but you are not my sister. You're right, you are absolutely right. Your very existence is a constant reminder of my father's death. I might hate you for what you represent, but not so much to let you die. Then you'd get off too easily. If I have to suffer so do you, there's that little pesky blood-tie. So if you would please, hurry up," I gestured to my house. "Those are the conditions I have in agreeing to hear you out. Take it or leave it."
"We'll take it," Pauline said, quickly before my half-sister could open her mouth.
"Well, hurry up, I'd like to get back before eight," I said, walking into my home.
I silently screamed into my hands as I sat on the corner of my bed in the remodeled master bedroom after I had freshened up. Well, that's one way to counter my bravado - well played Fate, well played. What if I am a full match for her. What then? Does she want a kidney? Part of my liver? Am I going to find myself waking up in a tub of ice in some seedy motel? Fuck me. Sighing as I lifted myself off my bed. I had changed into my favorite blue jeans. We all have a pair, am I right? My Nikes felt like a cloud compared to those dress shoes I have to wear. My fingertips skimmed along the wall of the stairwell as I walked down to the first floor. It was something I always did when I was growing up, it seemed old habits do die hard. Then... then well, Fate seems to be at work as my foot hung in the air to step onto the first floor and my half-sister looking up at me with doe-like eyes clutching her towel to her chest. Her wet hair draped along her back. The glass of soda that was in her hand shook at being caught.
"I-I thought you may not mind if I got..." Emily began to stammer.