Author's note- Contains incest themes
*
I looked down at the delivery schedule on my tablet and then into the mirror to see the near empty rear of the van. The end of my day, the week; and only one stop left to make, the large package shifting as I rounded a bend in the road. The rain hadn't let up all day and driving was becoming a chore, especially upon roads I was totally unused to this far from the city. The GPS told me to take the next left and when I pulled off onto the gravel road, I winced at what confronted me.
A ford. Underwater. I checked again the address of my last delivery and sure enough, directly across and miles further. Lifting the hood of my jacket I stepped out into the weather and approached the crossing, looking to judge the actual depth of the water. Closer, and it didn't look so overwhelming. Knowing it took only inches of water to float a vehicle I looked back at the wheel base of my van and gauged I had the clearance to take it on.
With caution I put the van in gear, edged out into the stream and found the crossing easier than I expected, coming out on the other side and heading off along the wooded road. Late in the afternoon, the rain becoming heavier, the only reprieve was the cover provided by the fir trees as their limbs reached out across the unmade road as I wound my way further into the forest.
I couldn't miss the address, the road ending at the entrance of a large estate. Through a stone wall, (the letters I.L.F. upon a bronze plaque) and its foreboding iron gates, I drove slowly up the drive and with the GPS declaring I'd reached my destination, stopped before an imposing turn of the last century building. Once more raising my hood, I stepped out into the storm and opened the rear of the van, withdrawing the large cardboard box and headed up the stairs.
After ringing the doorbell, I looked further down the drive to the left, a parking lot among the trees holding at least fifteen cars though no sound of a gathering from inside the building. Finally, I could hear the click of a woman's heels approaching from the other side and the large oak door opened up before me.
The woman was elegantly dressed in a black pencil skirt over sheer stockings. A cream satin blouse was buttoned up high on her throat and I could make out the lines of her bra beneath. Her blonde hair flecked with grey was pulled back in a messy bun and she surveyed me through black rimmed glasses.
"Oh finally," she exhaled, whispering. "I was worried it wouldn't arrive in time."
"We always deliver," I repeated the company's motto for the umpteenth time that day and placed the box at her feet before tapping the confirmation of delivery into my tablet and asking her name for verification.
"Madeline Faine," she responded. "I'm the manager here."
Asking her to sign, I made sure she was able to handle the box before wishing her the best and heading back into the rain. My day done.
Or so I thought.
*
I stopped at the ford to see the water level had dramatically risen. The rain just as heavy, if not more so, I looked across to see the flashing lights of a police car at the turnoff of the main road. Through the windscreen wipers I could make out an officer in a raincoat setting up what looked to be a road block and I stepped out into the downpour to better see what was happening.
I was right about the water level, the flow of the stream now a strong current, debris floating along its course. It was clear I couldn't cross and I waved to the policeman to get his attention. In the time it took him to walk the fifty or so yards to the river, the water level had risen and I needed to step back as it lapped at my feet.
"Road's closed," he called out across the waters, stating the freaking obvious.
"How long until I can cross?" I yelled back over the rain and rushing water to see him shrug.
"Could be hours. Could be days if it keeps rain'n upstream," he discouragingly responded and I couldn't help but slump. Knowing I was on a dead-end road I didn't bother asking if there was another way around. "Looks like y'all just have ta wait it out," he waved a hand in departure and headed back to the protection of his vehicle. I took another step away from the ever-rising water before turning and heading back to the shelter of my van myself.
"Fuck," I slammed my hands onto the steering wheel when safely back inside the cabin. Taking out my phone I checked my weather app and saw no letup in the rain, even the radar looking menacingly red over much of the state. Turning off the ignition I relaxed for a moment and listened to the soothing sound of the droplets upon the roof and windscreen, taking off my water-logged jacket and settling into the seat. It wasn't uncomfortable. The relaxing sound of the rain would have the ability to lull me to sleep if I allowed it. Could I sleep it out I wondered? How long though?
Again, I took out my phone and called my boss to explain the problem to which I received little sympathy and hung up more frustrated than before. The I.L.F. I thought. What was that place? I Googled the name and found their website, offering little detail as to what they indeed were. The Institute of Liberating Femininity. What the fuck did that mean? From their site it looked like a conference center; photos of a meeting room, an indoor swimming pool, a bar! Could I get a room? There were clearly other people there at present, all in the same boat (if only) as me, with the road out blocked. They'd ultimately all have to stay overnight if the rain didn't let up.
I watched white caps begin to appear on the water before me and sighing, turned the ignition and headed back up the forest road.
*
Again, there was a wait before I heard the familiar clicking of the previous woman's heels on the wooden floorboards, the opening of the large oak door.
"That was quick," she seemed unsurprised at my arrival. "I only just placed the return request!"
Confused, I asked what she meant?
"The package. It was damaged," she explained. "You're here to pick it up, aren't you?"
"Ah, no," I divulged, shaking the water from my jacket to emphasize the rain. "I've got a problem actually," I began and she furrowed her brow at my admission. "The road's blocked. The ford. It's under water," and a look of recognition came to her face.
"Yes. That sometimes happens."
"Yeah. Well, the police said it could be hours if not days," I looked back at the weather and the darkened sky, the sun barely showing over the trees. "I was wondering if I could get a room? Just for the night."
She noticeably grimaced and it didn't fill me with much promise.
"Well. We have a function on you see. It's, well it's rather exclusive," she momentarily looked over her shoulder before back at me with contemplation.
"You won't even know I'm here," I pleaded my case and it seemed to go some way to swaying her.
"Actually," she looked me up and down. "Come into my office. We may be able to help each other out."
