The Last Incubus: Chapter 01
Preface and disclosure:
Reader, please be patient with these first few chapters, they are intended to "whet your appetite" and set up the background for the main storyline. I promise more enticing chapters in keeping with traditional Lit. standards will follow.
My eternal gratitude goes to Chris6160 and TwentyNine Snow for their editing skills and constructive comments. They continue to help me a better writer and storyteller.
All characters in the story are all over the age of 18 and are consenting adults. Their names are fictional and any similarity to persons living or otherwise is also coincidental and unintended.
*******
Chapter 1: My cousin Tina.
"How can a young man keep his way pure?" ~ Psalm 199 v. 9.
*****
Sunday, November 26th
A blast of frigid air greeted me as I stepped off the bus. This was my first trip to Maine and the sting of the bitter cold against my face seemed a fitting welcome to this God-forsaken place. I pulled up the collar on my coat to keep the wind out and my body heat in. I despised the cold. Winters are the worst, and the idea of spending winter in Maine - well, going to school here was not my idea and definitely not my choice.
"You'll get used to it," Tripp smiled as he watched me pull up my collar. His pearly white teeth stood out against his dark brown skin in the pale light of the bus station.
Growing up on a farm in upstate New York, I was no stranger to cold winters. But at age 20, if I hadn't gotten used to it by now, I probably never would.
I had only met Tripp a few hours ago. He sat next to me on the bus from Boston. This being the Sunday after Thanksgiving, the bus was crowded and the seat next to me was one of the last ones left. We didn't talk to each other at first, which suited me just fine. I had no intention of chatting with the stranger sitting next to me, even though it turned out that we were both the same age. It wasn't until the charge on my phone was down to 10% and I pulled a book out my backpack, that he spotted the University of Maine at Bangor* logo and struck up a conversation. After that, I couldn't shut him up.
It turned out that we had a lot in common. We were both Sophomores taking business classes, although he was interested in financial planning, while I was destined to take business administration courses. He was a wrestler on the University wrestling team, the same sport I had been on at Albany. Tripp spent most of the ride trying to convince me to join the wrestling team at Bangor. The season had already started, but the coach still welcomed new applicants. I wasn't sure I wanted to make that commitment, after all, I hadn't registered for classes yet.
Tripp's real name was Tyrese Cole, but he preferred the nickname "Tripp," from high school. He was from the south Boston area, returning to the Bangor campus after spending the Thanksgiving weekend with his family. He was surprised to hear that I was transferring to Bangor from Albany so late in the year. I didn't give him a lot of information about the reason for the transfer, but he could tell I wasn't very happy about it.
I waited outside while the driver pulled out suitcases from the storage area under the bus. There was a crowd of people waiting their turn as he checked each baggage stub one at a time to be sure that no one took the wrong suitcase. The sun had set over 90 minutes ago, and it took the bus driver a little longer to read the numbers on the ticket stubs in the dark. Since I was one of the first persons to board, my suitcase would be one of the last to be pulled out. Tripp on the other hand, was one of the last ones on the bus, so his duffle bag was one of the first to be retrieved.
"I'll see you in class Ross. Let me know if you want to work out together. I'll be in the weight room every afternoon at 4. I'm sure the coach will let you work out with the team," he said as he headed inside the terminal.
By the time I picked up my suitcase, it was nearly 6 PM. I had been on a bus or in a bus station for over 10 hours. I headed into the bus terminal wondering if my cousin Tina was waiting for me there, or if I had to call her.
I hadn't seen Tina for years. I was only 9, and she was 12. She was a tomboy with copper-red curly hair, and I had a secret crush on her. We played hide-and-seek together and she taught me how to play crazy eights. Once, during a sleepover, she gave me my first kiss-on-the-lips. Come to think of it, I've only kissed a girl twice since then. I wondered if I would even recognize her now.
It took my eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the fluorescent lighting inside the terminal. Being one of the last to get my luggage, there weren't too many people left in the building, most had their backs towards me and were heading out the door. Of the faces looking in my direction, none were topped with red hair.
I dropped my backpack into one of the plastic seats and pulled out my phone to call my cousin. As I was bent over the pack, I heard my name close by.
"Are you Ross? Ross McPherson? I'm your cousin, Tina."
I straightened up and turned.
"Yes, I'm -"
She was stunning, breath-takingly gorgeous. She had those same pale blue eyes I remembered as a kid and her face still had that same smile and dimpled cheeks I loved so much when she was 12. But the rest of her was beyond anything I could recognize - or imagine.
First, she was tall. About two inches taller than me, so I guessed she was about 5 foot 11. Her hair wasn't copper-red and curly. Instead, it was long, straight, and jet-black, the same as mine. Under her open coat, she wore a tight red sweater that showed off her impressive chest over a pair of denim shorts. Her legs were long, smooth, and muscular. Her fleece socks and leather hiking boots completed the outfit. She looked like the kind of girl that would make every guy believe that there is a God.
"Ross! Welcome to Bangor!" She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and planted her lips over mine. Her soft breasts pressed against my chest, and I felt a sudden rush of blood to my groin. Then her lips parted, and I panicked and tightened my mouth reflexively.
She broke the kiss and stepped back, grinning broadly.
"Um, thanks," I replied, shyly.
"I hope you don't kiss your girlfriends that way," she teased. She may look different, but she still teased me just like when we were kids.
"Uh, sorry. I-I've b-been on a bus all day and I'm a little disoriented, that's all," I stuttered.
I shouldn't have been nervous, I mean, after all, she was my cousin, but she had the kind of looks that could turn most guys into a mass of blubbering jelly.
"Oh, that's right! I forgot you were coming in from Albany. How was the trip?"
I couldn't hold back an exhausted sigh. "N-no major problems. It was just long, too long. I spent five hours on the bus from Albany to Boston and then after an hour layover in South Station, an additional four-and-a-half hours on the bus here."
"You must be starved. When was the last time you ate?
"I had a hot dog at South Station in Boston, but I could go for something to eat right about now," I admitted, regaining my composure.
"I know just the place. There's a little diner near campus and not far from where I live. The food is decent and there's not much else open on a Sunday night during a holiday weekend. Here, let me help you with your luggage," she offered, reaching for my backpack.
"I can handle it," I replied, quickly scooping up the backpack and grabbing the handle of my suitcase.
An icy wind whipped through the parking lot as we made our way to her car. I hunched my shoulders as we headed into the wind.
"Aren't you cold? You're wearing nothing under that coat but a sweater and shorts," I called out, staring at Tina's tight butt and bare legs as I followed her to her car.
"You get used to it," she replied over her shoulder, echoing Tripp's words earlier.
"I can't imagine ever getting used to this," I muttered, seeing my breath whisked away by the wind.
We loaded my stuff into Tina's Land Rover. The large, red vehicle looked new and still had lingering traces of that new car plastic smell. We piled into the front seat, and she started the engine, blasting cold air from the heating ducts.
"Despite its size, this warms up pretty fast," she explained.
"Is this new?" I asked.
"Walter bought it for me after I got the job in the Admissions Office."
Walter and Piper were Tina's parents. She had always called them by their first names, even when she was 12. Walter was the CEO of a major international employment company with thousands of employees. Piper was the personal assistant and secretary to the company's owner. They got divorced when Tina was two, which was around the same time they both got their powerful full-time positions. Tina was raised by an elderly lady who worked for the company, her nanny, Mrs. Bainbridge. Maybe that's why she always called her parents by their first names.
"It's nice. It's your favorite color, too, I see."
She smiled, but there was just the fainted hint of wistfulness in that smile. "It's got four-wheel drive and high ground clearance. It's perfect for the amount of snow we get up here."
"Have you ever done any off-roading with it?" I asked.
She looked over at me with a big smile and a twinkle in her eye. "Oh, once or twice."
We pulled into the Blue Ox Diner. It was a classic fifties-style diner complete with silver metal exterior and red vinyl upholstered booths inside, although much of the upholstery was ripped in places and held together with silver duct tape. There was a distinct weathered appearance to the inside décor. The place smelled of hot grease, dirty cooking oil, and fried fish. There were only three other customers in the place: an old guy with a scruffy beard sitting at the counter and a couple of college athletes wearing hockey shirts sitting in the back booth near the rest rooms.
The hockey player facing the door saw us walk in and whistled at Tina.
"Hey Tina! You wanna join us?" he snickered.
"No, Gil. I'm with my cousin tonight," she called back.
"Oh, we don't mind. I'm sure you can handle the three of us," Gil called back.
"That's still a 'no', Gil. You do know what 'no' means, don't you?" she retorted.
"Yeah, we know. But if you change your mind . . ." Gil's voice trailed off as his friend whispered something to him.
Suddenly, the two started laughing lewdly.
Tina took off her jacket and sat down in the booth at the middle of the diner facing the entrance, leaving me facing the hockey jocks and the bathrooms at the back of the diner.
"I hope you don't mind; I'd rather not ruin my meal facing those two."
"Hello, Miss Nicholson," The waitress said quietly, handing Tina a menu.
"Hi, Bailie. We're not in the Admissions Office. You can call me Tina, you know," Tina replied pleasantly.
The waitress turned to hand me a menu. Our eyes met as I reached for the menu, and we both seemed to freeze at the same time. It felt like someone had just pressed life's pause button.
The first thing I noticed were those big, brown, doe eyes. They went well with her brown hair and cute, quiet and intelligent face. She reminded me of the girls back home, nothing flashy, but friendly and strong in unexpected ways. In some way, she seemed complimentary to Tina. Where Tina had an overpowering glamorous beauty, Bailie had more of a down-home, girl-next-door attraction.
She was wearing a light blue striped 1950's style waitress uniform, complete with a white apron and small white hat. The uniform came down to her knees and had various food stains on it, mostly gravy, catsup, and mustard. Her stockings were old and worn with several holes. Her brown hair was no longer held in place by the various bobby pins visible and she looked half-awake as if she was near the end of a long and difficult day. For a waitress, she seemed unusually shy and self-conscious.
After what seemed like several minutes, but was probably only a second or two, Tina broke the silence. "Oh, Bailie, this is my cousin Ross. He just got in after a ten-hour trip from Albany. He's transferring here and will be starting school tomorrow. Ross, this is Bailie. She's also a sophomore."
"Nice to meet you, Bailie. Is that with a 'y' or a double 'e'?" I asked.
