Wilderwood Ch. 07

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Thomas Wilderwood founded the town, back in the 17th century. There’s a statue of him on a plinth in the square across from the town hall, glaring down at passersby from under the brim of one of those big buckled hats they wore back then. We didn’t actually put anyone on trial for witchcraft here, but Thomas looks like he’d have been totally up for that.

A century later Jonathan Wilderwood rallied the town militia at the church at Trinity Cross and led them out to fight the redcoats during the Revolution. He’s got a statue as well, on the green in front of the church where he gave his big speech. He’s not glaring at anyone, but looking up at the sky with one hand laid over his heart and another holding a flintlock pistol behind his back.

There’s also a statue of his great grand-son, Ethan Wilderwood, in the grounds of Wilderwood College. He was a colonel during the Civil War, and is standing smoking a cigar, with his sabre drawn and one foot resting on what’s either a rocky outcrop or – if you look at it from certain angles and in the right light – a pile of human skulls.

That statue is a war monument, dedicated to everyone from the town who died in the Civil War, but it’s still a Wilderwood that was chosen to represent them.

There’s also a bust of William Wilderwood in the hall of the high school, and another of his wife, Emily, in the town library. William was Ethan’s nephew and he and Emily were major contributors to the school and the library, as well as the town’s museum and public parks and any number of other town improvements and good causes.

He’s also the last of the Wilderwoods to have a big entry in the History of… section of the official town website. So far as the last hundred years or so go we’re barely a footnote.

= = =

I know all this because since we got home we’ve been looking online to see if we can verify any of what I was told of the family history when I was out at Conway. There’s not much to find, and it doesn’t help that any search of our family name gives a lot of results that relate to the town itself, and the huge number of places in town that include Wilderwood in their names. When one of us is specifically mentioned it’s usually as part of local history.

The high point of our research is probably when we find a blog article titled ‘The Ten Most METAL War Monuments’, which gives Ethan Wilderwood’s statue a place in the list on account of the heap of skulls at his feet. I guess that’s justified.

Still, it’s not much to show for a couple of hours of searching, and having failed to find anything else of much interest, and basically nothing after about 1920 or so, it’s Emma that says what we’re both starting to think.

“This could all be complete bullshit. You think of that, little brother?”

Our parents haven’t come home yet and we’re sitting on the couch in the lounge. At least I’m sitting, and Emma is stretched across the full length of the couch, her head laid back on the armrest and her legs draped over my knees.

“Which part?” I ask. “The part about Dad having an affair or the part about our great grandfather being a gangster who basically disowned our side of the family when he left everything to great-uncle Nathan?”

Emma shrugs. “All of it? I mean you didn’t see Dad doing anything with…”


“Right, and the old guy you were talking to at the gas station…”


“Right. I mean he’s really old. Maybe he’s…” my sister makes a vague gesture, “…y’know… not totally with it.”

“His description of Alex Trowley was pretty accurate,” I say. Emma shifts slightly and her tight black vinyl pants squeak softly as her thighs rub together. I rest my hands on the slick, smooth material, feeling how it tightens on my sister’s legs as she stretches.

“Yeah,” says Emma. “That’s hard to deny. What was he doing out there?”

“Asking questions. About us.” Emma took off her bike boots when we came in and I slide my hand down to the short zips at the ankles of her pants. The metal looks exceptionally sharp and bright against the sleek black and I run a zip up and down idly, peeling back the high gloss vinyl encasing her legs then sealing it back up.

“If he was right about Trowley let’s just assume he was right about everything else,” I say. “It does all fit in with what we knew about the family history.”

“What we thought we knew.”


“Which isn’t much.”

“I was never really interested,” I say. I draw the zip down again and watching the edges of the black vinyl pull together around my sister’s slender ankle. I push my hands slowly up her legs, over her knees to her thighs. “Remember the looks we’d get at school whenever our names came up in history lessons?”

Emma laughs and sits up, using her elbows to push herself down the length of the couch toward me. We draw in close and my fingers find another zip to play with in the one that seals up the front of her pants.

“You ever look at the statue of Jonathan Wilderwood in Trinity Cross?”

“Not since Mr. Alderney konya escort took my class on a history walk,” I say. “Why?”

“Just wondering if there’s any family resemblance.”

I snort. “I wouldn’t think so, Sis. I don’t even look much like Dad, let alone like my great great great whatever.”

Emma shifts again, pushing her crotch into my fingers. I start to pull the zip down while moving my other hand around to the back of my sister’s head, sinking my fingers into her dark hair and pulling her in for a long kiss.

“Yeah,” she says between kisses, her hands playing over my chest and shoulders. “You’re slimmer, darker haired. You have a nicer butt too.”

“You’ve been looking at Dad’s butt?”

My sister laughs and runs her tongue over my lips, licking me like a cat. “Oh god no. That would be weird.”

We both laugh and I chase her tongue around with mine. With the zip down I slip two fingers in between the metal strips, parting them and feeling my sisters’ smooth, shaved and entirely bare pussy underneath. Emma shudders as my thumb finds the small steel ring that pierces the hood of her clitoris. “Fuck…”

I rub the little nub of flesh with my thumb and my sister clutches at me as my movements put soft pressure on the ring as well, making her gasp and shiver against me. I feel her hard nipples pushing through her tee against my chest and when I spread my fingers out and send two sliding down to her slit I find it hot and wet.

“Don’t stop, little brother…” Emma groans softly. She’s pushing her hips forward now, her thighs spread wide, inviting me into her. I curl my fingers up and push one slowly into her, then another, spreading her wet pussy lips with the same motion I parted the zip of her tight vinyl pants. She is slick and wet and her inner flesh seems to pulse at my touch.

Still working my fingers inside my sister’s soaking slit I tighten my grip on her hair and she moans as I pull her head back to look into her face. Her dark lips are moist and glossy, slightly parted, and her tongue flickers between them as she whimpers eagerly, but it’s her eyes I really notice. They’re wide open, so intensely green it’s like they’re lit up from within, and staring into mine like she’s looking straight into my soul.

I have my thumb on her clit and my fingers sunk inside her pussy. She’s clutching onto me, clawing at my back through my shirt and pushing her pierced tits against my chest, and yet it’s in our eyes that I feel the connection we’re making most intensely. I can’t take my eyes off hers, and though she tosses her head back and gasps as I delve into her, and shuts her eyes and moans through her teeth as I work my thumb over her clitoris it’s always just a moment before she has her gaze back on mine.

My sister is still looking at me as I bring her to a climax that has her whining and shivering, pushing down on and clenching around my fingers as she cums hard against me, grinding against me until it slowly subsides and she eases down and relaxes into me.

“We’re not losing this,” she says softly. “Not for anything.”

“I know.”

I say it and I want to believe it, but I don’t know if I do. If all we had to deal with was Emma going back upstate when college starts while I’m stuck here in Wilderwood, that would be bad enough, but now there’s a risk that our relationship will be revealed before we even get that far.

“We should find out what Trowley knows,” I say at last.

Emma straightens up and I’m momentarily distracted by the sound her zip makes as she pulls it back up, and the small, satisfied murmur that accompanies that.

“If he knows anything.” she says. “If he did wouldn’t he have already put it up on his channel?” She picks her phone up from where she’d tossed it after we gave up on our online investigations. “It’s not like he’d wait until he had proof.”

I lean over and look at the screen of her phone as she scrolls through the video listings on Trowley’s YouTube channel. Witch Cults. Reptillians. The Hollow Earth. Mind Control. That’s just the highlights of the first page.

A lot of them link back specifically to Wilderwood and the surrounding area. In the last couple of years Trowley has accused just about every prominent figure in town of something or other, from members of the city council misusing funds to a prominent lawyer holding orgies at his house up on Hamilton Hill. How he hasn’t ended up in court a dozen times I don’t know, but most of these videos don’t have that many hits, so I guess he’s done enough to make himself infamous in the town but not enough to make it worth anyone’s time to try and shut him down.

Looking at his output I have to agree with Emma – if Trowley had something he’d have put it up already.

Emma is still scrolling through the videos. “You ever ask your friend Chris about the Laketown Swingers Club?”

“Is that the one up on Hamilton Hill?”

“No, that’s where the masked orgies are, the ones that Edward Danforth organises.” Emma pauses, thinking. “Isn’t konya escort bayan he our family lawyer?”

“He’s everyone’s family lawyer.”

“We should ask him why we’ve never been invited to one of his orgies.”

“For sure.”

Emma sits up again up and stretches before sliding over to her own side of the couch. I see her glance at the clock over the fireplace and know she’s thinking that our parents will be home soon.

“Seriously though, even if Trowley did put up a video about us who’s going to believe it? He’s taken a shot at everyone in town. The Lakes, the Danforths, the Jacksons…” she rolls her eyes at her own mention of her ex-boyfriend’s family.

“He’s never taken a shot at us before,” I say. “I mean at the Wilderwoods.”

Emma looks at me for a second, then looks back to her phone and scrolls through the rest of the video listings.

“You’re right,” she says after a minute. “He never has.”

“Isn’t that a little strange? That he puts out video after video about this town and the people in it, but none of them are about the family the town is named after?”

“Maybe,” says my sister, biting her lip, “there’s just not much to say about us.”

I hold her gaze for a long moment. “After what we’ve been talking about tonight do you really believe that?”

“No,” she says.

It’s about then that Mom and Dad come home. They both seem to be in a good mood, laughing as they walk through the door, and I find myself looking at Mom and comparing her to Morgan, Dad’s ‘assistant’ out at Conway.

Our parents have been together since college, though I think Dad was a year or two ahead. They’re both still in pretty good shape, and the dark red dress Mom is wearing tonight does show that off. She’s tall, almost the same height as Dad, and since she’s wearing low heels tonight I guess they are getting along okay. Mom only wears high heels when she wants to annoy Dad by appearing taller than him – that was something Emma decoded about our parents a few years ago. She’s always been better at reading them than I am.

Mom looks good. I mean it’s not like I’d go for her. I don’t think of her like that. That would be weird.

Still, I can absolutely believe Dad is cheating on Mom. I just have to think about all the times, these last couple of years as I’ve grown up, that Dad’s talked to me about girls. It’s not hard to tell he’d be cool with me screwing a lot of different girls because hey, that’s what guys do, right? So if he thinks I should, does he think he should too?

“Oh, you’re home,” says Mom. It’s not quite her usual bitchy tone, the one she uses with Emma mostly, but it’s not far off.

“We went out earlier, got some food…” says Emma, before adding “…with a couple of friends.”


“Friends of yours?” Dad tosses his car keys down on the side table by the door and loosens his tie. He is just radiating smugness and I don’t know if it’s the booze or just that they’ve been at dinner with the mayor.

Emma smiles and glances at me. “Friends of ours really.” She’s playing up to Dad’s idea that I’m only hanging out with her to get close to her friends.

Our parents exchange looks with each other. Dad’s look is totally I Told You So.

= = =

They don’t suspect anything, but we’re still being careful and call it a night soon after they arrive home. We’re all talked out in any case, even though we both know there’s still a lot to talk about. Emma is working evenings at the hotel every day the coming week, and Mom is going to be home a lot because the salon is getting renovated, so we’re not going to see much of each other for a few days.

The next day at Pop! it strikes me that it’s the polar opposite of the Laketown Diner. There nobody knew us, but here everyone does, and it’s not just because this is where I work. The store draws a fairly young crowd, mostly, and that includes a lot of people who know me or my sister from high school or, in Emma’s case, from college.

Tina starts my day with a bright smile and an unintentional reminder of at least one of the things on my mind.

“Your mom and dad were up at the house last night. I guess they must be pretty excited about the new development, huh?”

Tina is the mayor’s daughter, so of course she’d know about that.

“Yeah. There’s an event on Friday to announce it.”

“At the hotel. My mom is already asking me if I have a date lined up.”

“You don’t?”

It comes out sounding more surprised than I intended, though I do find it hard to believe Tina isn’t dating anyone. Actually, seeing as she’s a pretty blonde in her early 20s, and the daughter of the mayor, I’m surprised that she’s not already engaged.

She blushes faintly and for a second I wonder if she thinks I’m making a pass at her, but it’s not that.

“I don’t really get along with people,” she says with an apologetic half smile.

I’ve no idea what she means by that, seeing as Tina is literally the most sociable person I know, and chats with everyone who escort konya comes in. She basically runs the place, and the only thing I find weird about that is that she’d want to work here rather than doing whatever it is that the mayor’s daughter should be doing.

“it’s cool,” I say, and since I don’t know what else to say I add “I don’t have a date lined up either.”

“It’s not a big deal,” says Tina. “You shouldn’t feel like you have to be dating someone all the time.”

She says it in a nice way – Tina says everything in a nice way – but I still take the first opportunity to get out of the conversation, though since that leads me into another, with Zack, it’s not much of an escape.

“So… you and Emma… you’re still…”

There’s nobody in earshot of us – it’s Monday morning and the place is fairly quiet, and we’re up at the back anyway, tidying up the shelves in the Manga/Anime section. All the same I take a glance around just to make sure, though I needn’t bother, since I’m starting to realise that Zack has an even more instinctive awareness of who is in earshot than I do.

I’m also realising that he’s not actually totally comfortable with the idea of me being with my sister. I guess there’s no reason why he should be, and I appreciate that he’s so obviously making an effort to be cool with it.

I nod. “We are, but maybe not for much longer.” I tell him about the drive out to Conway. Just that part, about how I have to stay here for college when Emma goes back upstate. I don’t tell him the rest. Not yet.

“Wow,” he says when I’m finished. “That really sucks.”

This is why Zack is my best friend. My relationship with Emma makes him at the very least uneasy, but he’s still for it, because he knows how much it means to me. His next question only underlines this.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “Honestly I haven’t really thought about that.”

His eyes go as wide as those of the manga girls on the covers of the books we’re sorting. “Seriously? Dude, how could you not?”

The actual answer to that is we’ve been too busy talking about everything else that came out of that trip, but I’m not ready to drag Zack into all of that. So I shrug and change the subject.

“You seeing much of Lucy?”

He grins.” Oh yeah. She is…” his head bobs a couple of times while he searches for the words to sum up his week long relationship with Lucy Xi, the impossibly hot gamer girl who my sister (and Lauren) hooked him up with to keep him quiet about us. “You know she knows about you and Emma, right?”

So much for changing the subject.

“I… uh… yeah, I think Emma said something.”

Now it’s me stumbling over my words. I know that Lucy knows about us because Lauren told her when she and Emma were setting her up with Zack, but now that I think of it I didn’t know if Zack knew that Lucy knew about us, or if he knew that she knew that he knew.

“We were over at her new place, doing this thing she likes, ” Zack continues, “and all of a sudden she just comes out and says ‘you think Emma does this with her brother?’ That’s how I found out she already knew about you and Emma.” He grins. “Wild, huh?”

I don’t ask what ‘this thing’ is. Not that I’m not curious about what gets Lucy off, but I don’t think I’m any more ready to deal with the details of Zack’s sex life than he is to deal with the details of mine.

“She really said it like that?” I’m really not dwelling on the ‘her brother’ part. I’m so used to it by now. Kind of.

“Yeah.” He nods, his grin widening. “She’s so up front, about everything. Absolutely zero filter.”

I don’t think it occurs to Zack that this is exactly what I don’t want to hear him say about one of the three people in town who definitely does know about me and Emma.

= = =

Emma isn’t worried about Trowley, and maybe she’s right about him being so out there that nobody would believe anything he did say, but I still can’t get him out of my mind, and later that day I’m wondering why he is banned from Pop!

Steve bans people a lot, for being jerks or hassling other customers. He also bans people who get too heated in arguments about comic books or movies, and people who disrespect the Quinn. Being banned from Pop! is like unlocking an achievement in a game – everyone has to do it at least once. I know I did, when I was still in high school, but it was fine after a few days, because it’s never that serious and Steve always lets it drop after a few days.

Almost always. With Trowley it’s different, and it’s only now that I really want to know why. So later that afternoon I ask Tina about him while we’re at the coffee counter.

“You know Alex Trowley?”

“The YouTube guy?” She looks puzzled. “I know who he is.”

“He’s banned from this place, right? Like actually banned.”

“Um yeah, he is.”

“Do you know why?”

Tina shakes her head. “Steve told me if he ever comes in here when he’s not here I should call the cops.” She looks uncomfortable and it’s making me feel bad about asking her. “You’d have to ask Steve why though.”

I glance over to where our boss is leaning against the cash desk, listening with a look of undisguised boredom as a couple of guys talk to him about some movie trailer that’s just come out. I decide I’ll ask him later.

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