6/9/03 Story Submission from MlleDeLaPlumeBleu (what a ridiculous mouthful }:)
(Note: this story is written somewhat in dialect, and any egregious grammatical offenses are absolutely intended.)
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It was ever so deep in the swelter; the air hung heavy and rippled over the brackish waters. On eves like this one, the day seldom baked off into balmy night. Heat rose up thick from the swamp, and swirled among the cypress roots.
And Marie felt that ol' evil come upon her once again, yes, have mercy, there he was- licking at her loins, that canny demon Lust.
He twisted her thoughts up so she ran hot and bothered, couldn't think of nothing else a-tall, not slipping peaches or skimming cream, nothing- nothing!- but that strange fever and ache.
Oh, it was wanton, no doubt about that.
Even the feel of it- to say nothing of the things that crossed her wicked mind when she was in the grip of it- but did she try to break free? Did she think of the Lord, of salvation, of penitence? No, and that was the wicked of it.
When it come upon her, stole over her like night, she welcomed it. It was a bad secret, and she steeped in it, sweet and dark like blackberries. Like the jam she should be watching close, boiling away atop the Dutch oven. She was in the grip of it, too wrung up to care for that.
But that demon did torment, too.
From the weathered porch, Marie watched her brother Jesse as he made his way home along the bank. He was foreman of a farm crew, and he toiled in earth like the Lord intended- and by virtue of the same, could it then be surprising that it had wrought him every bit a man in divine image?
Marie felt her lips part, and found them oddly dry. Her cotton dress was scant and worn, but it did little to cool her.
Jesse paused by the well, and she could see him better now- how the muscles in his back jumped with life as he hauled on the rope, how the sun adored his blondness, picking out threads and gilding them with its own peculiar alchemy.
He lifted the bucket and drenched himself clean, ducked his head and did it again.
Marie felt that demon stirring again, and she let him, as her fingers found her hair, tousled, tangled, a bramble of briars, the color of coffee grounds. Oh, her hair was dark, strange as that was- dark as her brother's was fair, and in the evening light ever-close to black.
It wanted a brushing, but there was none handy, so she combed through it as best she could. It lay down well enough, in as much as it ever did. She couldn't be caught undone, even by family- no, that would never do.
Here, now, he was almost to the house. Marie ran to get him a cold drink. Still, that fevery-sweet glow persisted, but it was her own bad secret, after all, known only to her…still, she couldn't help thinking it was unwise, somehow, to give herself over to it like she did.
She could push it away, after all, until she was alone- she could go off by herself with her torment- but she didn't, even though, uneasy, she thought it might tempt fate not to do so.
In the back of her mind she had the barest reckoning that if it overcame her- like it sometimes did when it reached its fever pitch- if it overcame her, and the means were given at that moment, it might not matter who or what those means were. Temptation takes all forms, she thought, and bit her lip.
"Lucy? Lucinda-Marie?"
She heard him call out from the porch and dropped her thoughts like a hot rock. He was the only one ever called her that, Lucy, and she didn't altogether like it as a name. She preferred Marie, but Jesse had his own way about things, and there weren't much to say about it.
She came out on the porch, a Mason jar in her hands. The glass was cool to her palms and beaded with moisture.
"Here you are, Jesse- I fixed you a lemonade. You must be fair beat."
She widened her eyes as she said it, and never once thought it was disingenuous, though maybe it was, to put a fine point on it.
Her eyes were light blue, startling against her sunbrowned face, and of course Jesse saw this, of course he did. He saw with eyes that looked much like her own. He was her brother, but he wasn't blind.
A smile crossed his lips.
"Thanks ever, Lucy girl."
He was already dry, was Jesse, the heat being what it was. His hair was like bright flax, pushed back from his brow and curving over into a swirl. Marie noticed strange things in her state- the slightly darker gold of his sideburns, the flush of his mouth.
If that ain't the oddest thing, she thought.
Of course, he was fetching- she knew that.
He was stripped to the waist and she let her eyes roam him boldly.
Jesse paused in the middle of a drink, his arm frozen halfway to his lips. He looked at her strangely.
"Well now," he drawled. "This ain't a sideshow."
Startled, Marie's mouth bloomed into a beautiful smile.
"Why, I didn't mean no harm by it, Jesse- not a-tall."
"Course not," he said quickly. "I didn't mean to say so."
Jesse put the jar to his lips and drank.
Then he smiled.
" G'won, then- get an eyeful. It's only natural."
Marie breathed out, goaded by her demon as it tickled her nether-regions.
"What do you mean by that, Jesse Aaron?"
"Why, you're my sister, aren't you- and sisters aren't like other girls. Look all you want, satisfy that curious nature."
"I ain't so very curious." She said, sullen.
"I reckon you are," he said, grinning. "Curious as any cat."
Marie shrugged.
"Maybe I am."
Jesse laughed.
"Oh, Lord, Lucy- don't go off your feed! It ain't important."
Marie took a deep breath and let it out again. It sounded ragged, ravaged by the lust that consumed her chest, her belly, her…
Jesse smiled, and looked out toward the fenceline.
"You know, I can't help but look at you sometimes- not in the bad way or anything, now- but Lord, you have the charms a man can't help but notice."
Marie looked up, surprised.
"You think I'm pretty?"
"Oh, I'll attest to't…you're dangerous pretty." He paused, then grinned. "But don't go getting all swelled up o'er it."
Marie twisted her dress between her fingers, this way and that.
That ol' evil rose up and turned over.
"You invite that Manda Jane o'er to stay the night while I'm gone, now." Jesse said, setting down the empty Mason jar. "You hear?"
"Yes."
"Or one of those gals." He looked at her appealingly. "It ain't like I don't trust you on your own, but I feel better if you got someone else with you. It's just common sense, you understand."
"I know it, Jesse. I 'spect you won't be gone too long."
"Naw, just tonight. Might even be back afore morning, but I can't say until we get that crop to Kingsburg."
He stood up and she took the empty jar from the porch railing.
"Lock up and let my dogs out, now. Load up the shotgun."
"Well, of course," she said, smiling, bewildered in her depths- she loved Jesse, didn't she? And he now- well, he loved her. Like a brother, like the Lord intended.
Could she see him as a man?
Should she even try?
No, heaven above- she should not. But she did.
All men are equal in the eyes of the Lord, that demon Lust seemed to say as it curved, relentless, through her belly and thighs. She pitched her hips forward ever so slightly beneath her dress, to dispel the ache.
Jesse kissed her cheek and she felt how it burned her, like fire. Surely this was forbidden flesh. And yet, the very touch sent her all a-flutter, dark flutterings they were, stirring in her softer places.
He pulled back, uncertainty writ in the lines of his face.
"That felt right strange, Marie- are you favorable? This heat-"
"I'm jest fine," she said, overwhelmed. "G'won now."
He did, although he looked oddly, and as she watched that old GMC pick-up trundle down the road her legs nearly trembled down into oblivion.
She ran to the pump and hosed herself down with cool spring water, chastising herself for her wickedness, her wantoness- but beneath that, she wondered. How would Jesse feel? Not just to the touch, she knew her brother's touch- but if he touched her as a man.
How his mouth had burned her.
Would the rest of him burn as much? And if it did, now, wouldn't it be delectable and wretchedly wrong- she couldn't resist the thought.
She was jolted out of her trance by a hand at her shoulder, and she fell back, startled, onto the grass.
Manda Jane laughed.
"Why, Lucinda-Marie- it's only me."
Marie got to her feet quickly.
"I was jest cooling off. You caught me unawares."
"You might think to 'spect me, seeing's you asked me to stay o'er."
Her cousin Manda Jane was red-headed and sunny-tempered. She lived on the next homestead, not far as the crow flies, and as such, neither of the girls ever bothered much with formalities. She'd walked over through the woods, before it got too dark for sensible safety, barefoot and unconcerned.
Her eyes were greeny-hazel like sullen water, but ebullient. They weren't as big as Marie's come-hither ones, but they tilted up a little at the corners, kind of dramatic, and her skin had turned a light buttermilk gold from the summer sun. Her lips were bee-stung.
She wore a pale rose-pink nightdress that skimmed her knees, and carried her things in a bundle-roll.
"Look what I done found on the way!" she exclaimed, in a half-whisper, and pulled aside the cloth of her bundle.
"Apples- look here."
"Where'd you come by those? They're right crimson- big too."
