A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 14

Thanks to ElrodW, Bikini Beach's creator, for invaluable comments on this story. The Bikini Beach universe and its principal characters are copyright 2001 by him.

Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and wrong. As this story is told from a particular point of view by the protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist, and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and rejected.

Friday, July 18th

I woke up later than usual this morning, but still not late enough to miss the Mental Work and the Lesson -- not that Ma would allow me to miss them anyway. If I got up too late to listen with the family, Ma always made me listen to them both by myself.

I refused to leave my room except to go to the bathroom and shower, until Pa left for work. I was fuming over last night's events. At least, I'd managed to regain a modicum of self-respect, when I threatened to fight Pa off. But dammit, they were right. Thinking back on it, I looked really silly in a tight girl's one-piece swimsuit.

I was terrified and embarrassed to encounter Ma again this morning, but neither she nor Ruth said anything about last night's events. Ma seemed to be treating me rather gingerly. I wasn't feeling too happy when Ruth told Ma and me that she wanted to visit the library again. That would mean I would have to go with her. "Daisy may want to come, too," she said, reminding me that Carol might be there as well. I was feeling definitely a LOT happier.

We wouldn't have as much time to spend at the library today, because I had clarinet lessons followed by Taekwondo, and Ruth had piano and ballet at roughly the same times.

Daisy did indeed want to join us. Ma drove us again, me in my Taekwondo uniform and carrying my clarinet material in my knapsack, and Ruth in her ballet kit with her wrap-around skirt. When Ma let us out she said, "You get Ruth to piano on time, and I'll get her to ballet as usual. Then you pick up Ruth and walk home with her, as usual."

I set my watch alarm, to get us going in time.

"You think Carol will be there?" asked Ruth.

"She always seems to spot me, wherever I am," I answered.

"She knows your schedule," said Daisy, sounding a bit mad.

We entered the library. I left my knapsack behind the counter, and we headed through the adult section. Daisy spotted Carol. "There she is!" she whispered. She was sitting at a table, reading, and we went up to her.

She looked up as we approached, casually closed the book and moved it away, and stood up. "Hey, guys!" she whispered in a husky tone. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing heavy. I saw that she was reading Forbidden Flowers. I was surprised she actually dared to read this out in full view of the library, and I hoped that Daisy and Ruth didn't see the title.

"Why is your face red, and why do you talk funny?" asked Daisy.

"Why, I'm very excited to see all of you!" answered Carol, still breathing hard and in that husky tone. She picked Daisy up and hugged her to herself.

Daisy said, "Forbidden Flowers. How could flowers possibly be forbidden? Oh, like the poppies in `The Wizard of Oz'?"

"Exactly," said Carol with what looked like a smile of relief.

Unfortunately, we couldn't spend too much time. It was shortly time to get Ruth to her piano lesson. Again, we had to go early, because I had to get back to the mall in time for my clarinet lesson.

At Mrs. Prudence's house, we could hear from inside, the sounds of a piano lesson. Ruth had a good while to wait. "Daisy, I'm going to have to run to make my clarinet lesson on time. Could you wait here with Ruth, and keep her company?"

"Please, Daisy?" Ruth added.

So Daisy stayed with Ruth, while Carol and I ran to the mall. Running was a bit clumsy with the knapsack, but I made it just in time for my lesson. The girl with the saxophone was leaving and Mr. Oregon was there waiting. Carol said, a little out of breath, "If I'm not here when you're done, check for me at the nearby bookstore."

"Just in time," he said. "And all prepared for Taekwondo, too." Of course, it took me time to set up my clarinet and reed, something I usually did before class.

The class went routinely, meaning that I routinely stumbled over some of the more finger-twisting routines. For the most part, I managed to keep Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe out of my mind during the lesson. When we finished, I went out to find that Carol was here, waiting.

It was a nice casual walk to the Taekwondo dojang, which was also in the mall. Carol quietly took my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. I felt a quiet, almost serene excitement, that nevertheless caused my front to bulge out. I tried to subtly adjust my uniform top down to hide it.

After Taekwondo, it was another nice casual walk hand-in-hand to Ruth's ballet studio. Daisy and Ruth emerged with a group, chattering among themselves.

"Bye, guys!" Daisy and Ruth both said, as they skipped over to us and grabbed our hands.

"I'm might ask my parents if I can start ballet," said Daisy.

"Maybe gymnastics," suggested Ruth.

When we got home, Ruth had the first shower as usual. I stayed down in the living room with Daisy and Carol. As grimy and sweaty as I was from Taekwondo, and from the walk home, I sat on the floor. Daisy and Carol sat down as well, and we chatted about random things.

Eventually, Ruth came downstairs changed into straight clothes. It was my turn to shower and change into shorts and tee-shirt. When I went back downstairs, the girls had decided that we would play a game of Sorry down in the basement playroom. "Sorry's a fun game," commented Carol. "I like to play something childish on occasion."

It turned out they had an ulterior motive for going downstairs. They wanted to sit on Carol's and my laps while playing. We wound up rotating, with Ruth, Daisy, and even Carol sitting on my lap while Daisy sat on Ruth's. And yes, I got to sit on Carol's lap.

We had to scramble a couple times when Ma came down to check on us and see if we needed anything.

We talked about random things, including what Mrs. Winstead said about Ruth as Peter and Daisy's imagination of Peter, and about Bikini Beach transformations.

Ruth told Daisy and Carol about my confrontation with Pa last night, over my coming home in a girl's one-piece swimsuit.

Daisy was on my lap at the moment, and went out of control with teary-eyed laughter, burying her face in my chest. Carol squeaked, obviously suppressing her own laughter. I felt forever ruined, unable to face anyone, at how I must have looked in public to hundreds of girls and women. I realized that Pa was right.

When the girls finally got control, and I managed to get beyond my mortification, I asked, not expecting any kind of answer, "Why? After weeks with you and the girls, Carol, why did I want to fit in more in that way then and there? Come to think of it, why get a one-piece instead of a bikini?" Why did I feel so relieved, once I was wearing the girls swimsuit, about fitting in with the girls? Why did I feel that way, instead of utterly mortified being out in that?

Carol answered, "That's not the right question to ask, Luke."

"Oh?"

"None of them are. We were at Bikini Beach. You were a girl."

"Oh. Right." My face burned.

"The minor question is why you as a girl bought the one-piece swimsuit. The major question is why I remember you -- either mostly not thinking about it, or as a boy. I think Ruth also remembers you as a boy there as well."

"Yeah," she said.

"What that also means is that did you as a girl really get a one-piece swimsuit? Or did something different get reality-shifted into that?" Carol paused, then continued, "As Sherlock Holmes says, it's a mistake to theorize or speculate before one has the data."

"So how do we get the data?" asked Ruth.

"Heck if I know," said Carol.

"Dad's a lawyer. He finds out lots of things. He would know," said Daisy. "Hey, why don't you come over for dinner. We could ask him. You all could stay the night, too!"

"I think only Ruth would be allowed to spend the night," I said. I was quite nervous at the prospect of meeting Daisy's parents. I mean, what if I did something wrong? Something to offend them?

Carol looked unsure herself. "Remember the catfight?" Ugh, yes! "I should remind you that if we talk about Bikini Beach changing boys into girls, reality-shifting, or anything like that, they'll think us crazy. Unless they already know or at least suspect. But if we do, we should go for the real major question: what world is hidden in the darkness of the prehistoric depths behind the curtains of Ruth's eight-year membership and the lifetime upgrade. Sorry, guys, I recently read a novel..." Carol drifted off.

I couldn't help laughing, and Ruth and Daisy joined me, even as Ruth said, "We do know a little bit, from Ma's cat-fight. Bikini Beach changed me from a seventeen-year-old boy, Peter."

"You seem surprisingly nonchalant about it," said Carol. I agreed, considering how I reacted to the very idea that I might have been a girl -- and completely forgotten it.

"And I was apparently accused of raping and murdering Jill Denison, your friend's cousin."

"Oh, my God. You didn't!" said Carol.

"I hope I didn't!" answered Ruth. "Mrs. Winstead said that I kept denying it."

"I'm sure you didn't," I said.

"I'm now more than ever curious about what's locked behind Bikini Beach's transformations," said Carol. "I think we should take Daisy's offer of dinner up."

Ruth and Daisy both jumped up. "I'll ask Ma," said Ruth. "I'll call Mom," said Daisy, as they both dashed upstairs.

While they were gone, I said, "I am quite curious to know why Daisy's parents are so dead set against Bikini Beach. Apparently, they've never told Daisy or Ruth."

"Asking them would be part of opening the door. I assume they know both you and Ruth have been going," said Carol.

"Yes."

Daisy and Ruth returned eventually. "Ma said okay," said Ruth. Daisy said, "My parents want to meet you guys as well."

"Should we dress up for dinner?" I asked.

"No, all of you are perfectly fine. Dad will change out of his suit when he gets home, and probably into shorts."

Around five, we went upstairs. Ma said, "Have a good time." Thinking of last night's confrontation, I was glad not to have to eat dinner with Pa tonight.

Daisy lived a few houses down. I was progressively more and more nervous as we approached. Carol took my hand, occasionally squeezing it. Daisy and Ruth also held hands, but they didn't show any kind of nervousness.

Ruth paused a moment, and turned to us. "Luke and Carol, remove your shoes when we enter." That didn't help my nervousness. I was now wondering what other kind of embarrassing mistakes I could make because of different cultures. There were, for example, those families that said Grace before meals, and I always feared getting tripped up there.

We went up to the front door, and Daisy opened it and we all entered, Carol and I nervously. We all took off our shoes.

"Mom, Dad! We're home," called out Daisy, as the door closed behind us. Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto appeared -- oh, my heavens. I went bug-eyed, my jaw dropped, and most embarrassing, the front of my shorts bulged. Mrs. Matsumoto was absolutely the hottest girl or woman I'd ever seen -- even though she must have been in her thirties.

Okay, pretty much every Asian girl I met was pretty, cute, gorgeous, or hot -- admittedly, I had an Asian fetish. Jen and Becky were both hot in different ways -- and I only had to glance at Carol, or feel her hand in mine, to set my heart aflutter. Young Daisy was very pretty, and I even imagined her as a girlfriend. Mrs. Matsumoto had them all beat. I couldn't help staring.

Daisy giggled, Ruth quietly snickered, and Carol yanked my hand down hard. "Ow!" At least it broke my stare. Ruth and Daisy both giggled some more. I glared at them, and they giggled more and louder.

"Every man who ever meets Mom has that reaction, Luke," Daisy said, when she finally got control of her giggling. Ruth said something in Daisy's ear. "No-no-no, I meant the staring, the open mouth, the -- not that ... I didn't mean that ... down there," Daisy stammered, pointing at my crotch.

Oh, God! Please, strike me down. That's Daisy's parents there. Please, please, please! Just a quick, simple death. That's not too much, is it, please? I stood frozen red-faced, and my shorts front settled down. Mr. Matsumoto was going to grab me by the ears and toss me out any moment now.

Ruth whispered again in Daisy's ear. "Oh, oh, oh I'm so sorry, Luke! Please, I didn't mean it!" Daisy said, grabbing my hands, then quickly hugging me to further my embarrassment. She turned to her parents, speaking hyper-fast. "Mom, Dad, this is Ruth's big brother Luke -- the best big brother in the world."

"Daisy, this young man would *have* to be the best big brother in the world -- and the best friend in the world to you -- for not running a mile away after you thoroughly embarrassed him." Daisy looked down shame-faced, and Daisy's father turned to us. "We are pleased to meet you." Carol and I both shook Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto's hands, me trying to push aside my embarrassment. At least he was nice about my unfortunate public display of arousal.

"I'm pleased to meet you, too," I managed to answer in only a slightly wavering voice.

"This is Luke's friend Carol," said Daisy.

We sat in the living room and talked with Mr. Matsumoto, while Mrs. Matsumoto readied dinner. Mr. Matsumoto asked me about school.

"I finished eighth grade, and I'm starting high school this fall. I'm going to take math and science classes definitely. Also band -- I play clarinet."

Carol said essentially the same thing, except that she played violin and flute. "Luke and I went to different middle schools, but we'll be going to the same high school, Westside," she added. "Luke and I met at Bikini Beach and became instant friends."

A subtle, instantaneous grimace of Mr. Matsumoto's, that vanished as soon as it appeared, didn't escape my notice. It wasn't surprising. After all, they prohibited Daisy from going.

Carol added, "There are six of us who always get together there. Ruth also comes to Bikini Beach, and has her own set of friends. Daisy would surely be welcome among them. But she tells us you won't allow her to go."

I quickly said, "We understand, of course, that there are reasons one would avoid Bikini Beach. None of us have pressured Daisy to go."

"I realize that, and you've been very good in that respect," said Mr. Matsumoto.

"Dinner time!" called out Mrs. Matsumoto.

I was relieved, because I didn't know how to go about bringing in Bikini Beach changes.

The food was wonderful. Carol and I ate in silence, while Ruth and Daisy chatted, and Mrs. Matsumoto kept making sure we had enough on our plates. I was wondering how to bring up the subject.

During a lull, I said, "A couple days ago, Daisy asked a question that may have lurked in the back of my mind, but ... well, I hardly ever considered. How could I have gone to Bikini Beach practically every other day, when it's a girls-only water park?"

Mr. Matsumoto said, "One is allowed to make occasional exceptions to standards it applies. For example, an offer may be valid until July 31. Nevertheless, the company may let a customer take advantage after July 31 if it chooses."

Carol said, "But Bikini Beach bills itself as a girls-only water park to allow its members to enjoy swimming and water park activities without the discomfort of boys ogling them. The exceptions would seem to violate the Bikini Beach promise to women and girls."

"That's true, and that does make a difference," replied Mr. Matsumoto.

Carol continued, "I discovered quite fortuitously the resolution to the conundrum a couple weeks ago, just before July 4th. And Luke discovered it quite unfortuitously on July 4th -- it hit him in the gut."

"I freaked out," I said. "The girls and I even talked about it, to help me recover. For some reason, it never occurred to me to wonder why the `resolution' didn't apply to me. Carol only pointed out a couple days ago that it really did apply. The problem is that the resolution is so crazy, that mentioning it could get one in the loony bin.

"Mrs. Winstead, a woman in Ma's Firmlove group, tried to talk to Ma about it, and ... well there's a story to tell. The part I overheard between Ma and Mrs. Winstead could almost be called a catfight."

Mr Matsumoto smiled briefly at that. "Reality is vastly more complicated than we can hope to understand -- at least if we're not high-energy physicists, particle physicists, fundamental physics theorists, string-theorists, or cosmologists. I'd like to hear the story of Mrs. Winstead."

Together, Ruth and I first described Ma coming home in a rage over Mrs. Winstead and what she said about Ruth.

"Mrs. Winstead asked if everything was all better with Ruth, right?" asked Mr. Matsumoto. "Sounds as if she got her answer."

"It gets better," I said. "This week, the group met at our house, and we listened in on them. Ma tried to throw Mrs. Winstead out of the group, for saying all the horrid things about Ruth, and overall craziness. That failed, but then Ma and Mrs. Winstead had their catfight, their argument."

"Mrs. Winstead said flat-out that I was Peter," said Ruth. "And that my lifetime upgrade happened because they were giving up on reforming Peter. Mrs. Winstead said they were removing my memories of Peter, and removing everything I did based on Peter."

"Ma got Ruth an eight-year membership, while she only got single-day guest passes for me. I remember being jealous at time," I said. "Eight-years. It fits Ruth's age and Peter's original age of seventeen."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto listened in silence to what we said. Surprisingly, they didn't seem surprised or dismissive of what we said. "Presumably, Peter was your older brother," Mr. Matsumoto finally said. "And Bikini Beach has changed Peter to Ruth, and removed everyone's memories -- in effect, non-personing Peter."

"So Bikini Beach is affecting our minds even as we stay away," said Mrs. Matsumoto softly.

"We've known that all along," replied Mr. Matsumoto.

"So you know about Bikini Beach transformations?" I asked?

"Absolutely," he answered.

"I only found out by accident on July 4th, and I freaked out. That was the night before Ruth got her upgrade. Carol tells me that I had to have been a girl at Bikini Beach." I winced at saying that, and wished I could take it back. I continued, "I sort-of remember being a boy there."

"Sort-of remember?"

"Mostly, I never thought of it. But yesterday, I remember wanting to fit in more with my friends, who were all girls."

"Sort-of remembering," said Mr. Matsumoto. "That's a sign of your memory being tampered with. They want you to remember being a boy, but they don't want it complete -- otherwise, you would very much defeat their alleged reason of existence -- providing a haven for girls to swim and enjoy water-sports For some reason or other, they don't want you to remember being there as a girl. We -- my wife and I -- have our own experience with Bikini Beach."

Mrs. Matsumoto said, "Glenn and I were best friends growing up. I was a guy then, my name was Ellen -- dammit, I still can't say my male name, not even now! In any case, we were roommates in college. Spring Break our senior year, I was persuaded to join a few others in pulling a prank on Bikini Beach. Glenn tried his best to dissuade me. It was a harmless prank, but we were caught and changed to girls, ostensibly for thirty days. I changed into this hot exotic babe, and the world changed around us so that as far as it was concerned, we were always those girls. Supposedly, we would change back at the end of the thirty days."

Mr. Matsumoto said, "Here's my version of the story. I never had (or remembered) any best friend named Alan -- that was her male name. I did have a best friend up through high school, Stanley, but we went to different colleges and grew apart. We were both loner nerds, and I was a loner nerd pretty much through college. I managed to get a single room my junior and senior years. Then, after Spring Break my senior year, this lovely girl whom I recognized from a distance, but had never talked with, suddenly was coming onto me, trying to talk to me. My first reaction was shock that she was actually talking to me. Then my second reaction was shock when she burst into tears because I didn't recognize her any more, and never remembered my best friend."

Mrs. Matsumoto continued, "I kept talking with him and wanting to be with him. No doubt my looks kept him with me, and we did things together -- movies, walks through campus, walks in parks, lunches, dinners, etc. I kept counting the days until I would change back. The other girls did change back, but I didn't!

"I returned to Bikini Beach and humbled myself to see Grandmother again. Glenn went with me. It turns out I was pregnant -- with Daisy." She gave Daisy a loving look. "Grandmother told me that I was transformed for life because of this. I couldn't change back to my male self even after Daisy was born. Grandmother gave some kind of convoluted explanation of which I understood literally zero. At least she was kind enough to restore Glenn's memories of me."

"My parents and other relatives, none of them remember Alan. They only think of Ellen as my wonderful wife -- which she is, of course." He smiled at her. "But what concerns me is that, once you have the possibility of mind control and memory manipulation, you have no idea which is true and which is false. Well, to a certain degree, if you have sufficient analytic ability, you can figure out what may be true or false -- if the mind control allows it."

"Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto," said Carol. "I think you are right to keep Daisy away from Bikini Beach. She can resist Bikini Beach's mind-control magic a little bit -- she has memories of some sort of Peter. They may detect that at Bikini Beach."

"Interesting," said Mr. Matsumoto. "I will have to look into that at some point." He paused. "Unfortunately, because of their magic -- their mind-control magic in particular -- Bikini Beach is beyond the reach of the law. Most people in the law are unaware of Bikini Beach's magic, and a lawsuit alleging magical activities -- such as assault or battery or trespass in a person's involuntary transformation and mind control would probably be sanctioned as frivolous. In any case, Bikini Beach could make such a lawsuit vanish and make everyone forget about it."

"I wish I had the strength to stay away from Bikini Beach," I said, half to myself. "There was a time when I would have been outraged at the mind-control practiced. But I think I'm addicted. I've been a loner nerd myself, but now I've made a group of very close friends at Bikini Beach. All of them girls."

"Two of your friends are GIRLs -- that's Guys In Real Life," Carol said as explanation for Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto's benefit. "Guys transformed by Bikini Beach into girls. And memories notwithstanding, you were a girl whenever we were at Bikini Beach, and also during your two-week membership. So it was six of us girls together, not five girls and a guy. There of the girls are genuine girls -- we assume -- and three are GIRLs. Heck, for all I know, I might be a GIRL, male before getting my summer pass."

"You won't find out until the pass expires," said Mrs. Matsumoto. "Then it's quite possible you won't remember yourself as a girl. That's apparently what happens to Luke every time he goes to Bikini Beach."

I wondered if I could ask or demand that this time, Bikini Beach not change my memories, or that Bikini Beach let me remember what really happened the next time I visited.

The dinner eventually ended. Ruth stayed with Daisy, while I returned home with Carol. We had a nice but short evening together, but then Carol had to go home.

******************************

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 15
Memories Return

Thanks to ElrodW, Bikini Beach's creator, for invaluable comments on this story. The Bikini Beach universe and its principal characters are copyright 2001 by him.

Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and wrong. As this story is told from a particular point of view by the protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist, and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and rejected.

Saturday, July 19th

When Mrs. King came to pick us up, I was all dressed -- in clothes -- and ready. I had my girl's swimsuit with me. Pa didn't like it? Well, up his. Suppose I did look silly in it? I still had the best friends anyone could want, at Bikini Beach. They were nice about it.

I was already totally ruined, being seen in public Thursday. How could it get worse now?

I joined Vanessa, Helen, and another girl Helen's age in the SUV.

I remembered Thursday in the men's changing room, being terrified about changing into a girl -- wondering what it would be like, what I would remember. Fortunately, my fears had proven groundless: I stayed a boy. Vanessa didn't change either; she was already a girl to begin with -- except why did she join me in the men's room? Oh blast it all, that false memory business. Maybe she did come as Vernon and change to Vanessa.

Her two-week pass ended with mine, Tuesday. She got a new two-month pass Thursday. Did she change from Vernon to Vanessa then? Maybe I was remembering falsely, and my non-change was also false. The reassurance that my fears were groundless -- was that false as well? It was scaring me again.

Something she said in the changing room was nagging the back of my mind; I couldn't quite remember what it was. I kept trying and trying to remember what it was, to no avail. I decided to relax, think about something else, and perhaps it would come to me.

We arrived at Bikini Beach. As on Thursday, Helen and the other girl immediately went off to the turnstiles. Vanessa joined them, since she had her own pass now. It was just Mrs. King and myself in line.

More memories were nagging at me, that I couldn't quite seize upon. There had been some concern about Vanessa and her new two-month pass. Football, school classes in the fall, Jen. "Jen's parents think I'm female," Vanessa had said.

Jen. Thursday, Jen was jealous when Vanessa had joined me in the men's changing room. Ahah, that's what Vanessa said there. Something like, "You have to figure out why we're both in the men's changing room." She also claimed to be Vernon in real life, but only Vanessa while a member of Bikini Beach. Was she hinting that she was Vernon when we entered the men's room?

Were my memories going? How much did I forget? Was Vanessa actually Vernon at the time, but I just forgot? Did I really turn into a girl at the time, and then forget about it? Did Bikini Beach mess with my mind? I was confused, and frightened.

My new bus-card was in my wallet. I slipped it out, and fiddled with it in my pocket. I wasn't sure I wanted to go through with this; maybe I should just bolt and take the bus home.

Mrs. King said, "You seem nervous."

"No, not nervous. Just terrified," I answered. "I know, I'm going to change into a girl when I go inside. Right?" I hated asking that embarrassing question.

"You've been going to Bikini Beach how long? You should know that by now."

I felt like a little kid being scolded. "No, I didn't know. They changed my mind as well, made me forget. I remember always being male. Maybe as a girl, I remembered always being a girl." I cringed. "What really happened on Thursday? What really happened Tuesday? Before that? Nobody can tell me because their memories are as phony as my own.

"I don't want to go inside if they're going to mess with my mind. I don't want any false memories."

"I'll see what I can do," said Mrs. King.

"If we can't, I don't want a pass. I'll just take the bus back home." I was feeling very nervous, but I decided I wanted to be firm about this. I vowed I would be firm, even knowing in the back of my mind I would likely cave.

I was getting more and more frightened as we approached the ticket booth, but we finally reached it. "May I help you?" the saleslady asked.

"A day pass for Luke, but we have specific requests," answered Mrs. King. "No reality-shift, no memory or cognitive alterations, only the minimal mental and physical changes needed for a transformation to female." She turned to me. "Is that what you want?"

"Yes," I answered. "I also want to remember myself as I was, boy or girl, in the past. I want to remember what actually happened to me, what I saw and heard, in the past. And I want my friends to remember me as well, as I was, what actually happened with me. My sister Ruth, too. I don't want phony memories."

"We have a three-week special, for the price of four one-day passes. If you take that, I would recommend the standard change version. Most people will remember you as if you were always the girl. You, your companions, and others you specify, remember you but have at least an instinctive knowledge of the new version. That way, you can continue your ordinary routine. But for the one-day pass, the no mental change version should do."

"One day pass, please," said Mrs. King. "As Luke wanted."

"Coming." The saleslady typed on the computer. "We have a problem here. Our standing procedure with Luke, as ordered by his mother, Mrs. Erin Cuttington, is to follow our practice with much younger boys, and have him forget the changes. His mother was concerned about his reaction, if he knew he was changing into a girl."

So I was right. I WAS transformed to a girl, then forgot -- thanks to Bikini Beach, and Ma!

"No!" I exclaimed. "Don't wreck my mind!" Mrs. Eddy's admonitions against mental malpractice came squarely to mind. "I freaked out July 4th because I didn't know about Bikini Beach changes then. I know about them now. Ma has completely forgotten, because of one of your reality-shifts. I've completely forgotten something, I know." I was near panic.

Mrs. King said, "No reality-shift, no memory or cognitive alterations, other than the remedial ones that he specified. Otherwise, no sale."

"I'll take over, Vicky," said someone from behind her. It was Anya. "Take my place."

"Thank you, Anya," the saleslady was apparently relieved not to have to deal with us. "Anya can deal with the problems," I heard her mumble to herself as she went off.

Anya turned to us. "We'll follow your request. Your current near panic at something being done to your mind would be sufficient reason. The reason given by your mother clearly no longer applies, and your suspicions of her motives may be correct. There is one thing that we must hold to, however. As a boy, your memories of the women's changing room must be fogged out. This, I'm sorry to say, is non-negotiable."

"I guess that's okay," I reluctantly agreed. If I was going to cave in, that was as good a thing to cave in on as anything.

"Another thing. Your friends here will remember correctly, but those not here won't have their memories restored until they come. Your family will see you as Lucy tonight, but will remember only Luke. I hope things work out with them." I was disappointed, but I guess it couldn't be helped. "You don't want to hear the usual admonition to shower," Anya continued. "You are correct in that the shower is where you change. Courage, Luke." She held her hand out, and I grabbed it for a handshake.

"Thank you, Miss. Thanks, Mrs. King," I said, as I turned to the men's changing room. I kept hoping my memories wouldn't change this time, but I was still quite nervous that they might.

I stood at a locker hesitating before removing my clothes, and then removing them slowly. I was putting off my shower.

I finally worked up my nerve, and stepped into the shower. Funny, I never recalled before noticing how soothing the shower was. I closed my eyes to enjoy it, when I began remembering things.

... Peter, my older brother, seventeen just as we'd concluded. Peter disappearing for a few days, after which we were informed of his arrest; he was in jail. Ma and Pa arguing about whether to hire a lawyer. Ma sitting me down and somberly telling me that Peter had raped and murdered a girl. The murdered girl was Alice's cousin Jill Denison. Peter coming home, required to stay at home except for church and court appearances. Peter repeatedly denied having killed anyone. Finally Peter was free to do as he pleased, apparently exonerated. Peter having bouts of fury and rage at the police, along with nightmares.

... July 4th. Learning about, and being devastated by, Peter's enraged murderous thoughts. I remembered now that they were directed toward the police for what they did to him.

... Ruth, the two weeks ending in July 4th. Completely different from what I remembered. Ruth and Astronomy magazine and "Forbidden Flowers". Ruth telling about DNA. Apparently, DNA mismatch got Peter off. Ruth pestering Mr. Matsumoto to get DNA testing for the current suspect in Jill's murder. Me freaking out upon learning from Anya about Peter's murderous thoughts as detected by Bikini Beach -- the murderous rage against the police.

... Me as Luke. Me as Lucy. Ma taking Peter and me to Bikini Beach. Peter changing to Ruth. Me changing to Lucy. My crush on Mr. Oregon, my clarinet teacher? Yuck! How mortifying! I'd actually even hugged him as Lucy. Going out practically naked in a bikini. Even a one-piece swimsuit showed way too much leg -- as in, one hundred percent. My desire to be a good Christian Scientist? Was I really going to give a testimonial Wednesday evening about wearing bikinis and one-piece swimsuits at Bikini Beach? Boy was I relieved that the pass ended before that Wednesday evening. Gees, what a bimbo I was.

By now I realized the shower was off. I returned to my bench and locker to find my one-piece swimsuit where I left it. I put it on; the tight stretchy strip covering my crotch felt utterly strange, making me all too aware of the vacancy, the complete change, there -- rather exciting and arousing, too. It was almost perpetual masturbation. I wasn't sure I wanted to go outside in this. Being excited and aroused was one thing; being excited and aroused in public was something completely different.

I finally did exit, and met Mrs. King out there. I blushed, and she said, "I was wondering what was taking you so long in there, and I would have entered in another five minutes to see what was wrong. There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Lucy."

"Mrs. King, you don't have any idea how a boy feels in this body, with this kind of swimsuit. My standard swimsuit trunks go almost to my knees -- and that's only part of the problem." I was too embarrassed to tell the rest. "But also, I suddenly remembered a bunch of new things; things I'd completely forgotten."

"Would you care to talk about it?" asked Mrs. King.

I wound up spilling it all out, and crying in Mrs. King's arms.

"Would you like to talk to Anya or Grandmother about it?"

"No! No! Anya made me think that Peter was an angry, enraged murderer, when in reality his rage was directed against the cops who made him confess. Then Bikini Beach made me forget about it! Bikini Beach made me forget learning about Ruth and Peter!"

"Okay, we don't have to do anything right now. You might want to meet your friends. They'll help you calm down, at least escape from this for a day, if not actually help you."

"Oh, oh! Please, don't tell Alice about this. The murder victim was her cousin Jill." I didn't want to hurt or devastate Alice.

"Oh my!" She paused, then continued, "I've no words..." She paused further. "Vanessa said they'd be at the Wild River Fun, if you want to catch up with them."

"Thanks!" I ran off, and did find them at the Swimming Hole.

I heard them before I spotted them in the water. "Hey, Lucy!" came this familiar call from the distance.

I ran into the water, dove in when it got deep enough despite the sudden cold, and swam over to them.

"Oh my God!" exclaimed Becky. "I always remembered you as Lucy back in school, when you were really Luke! No wonder I never thought of you as girlfriend material!"

"I never remembered!" I exclaimed, treading water. "As Luke, I never remembered being Lucy, and as Lucy, I never remembered being Luke."

"Does that mean you completely forgot about us at Bikini Beach, when you were home as Luke?" asked Alice.

"No-no-no-no! I had wonderful memories of doing things with all of you, and simply being with you. I often wondered how quickly you girls accepted me, a guy, as one of your own, and most of the time I thought of myself as being simply one of the girls -- metaphorically, of course. I had no idea how true that was literally. Vanessa, you hit the bull's eye Thursday."

"Whatever did you do differently, this morning?" Vanessa asked.

"I don't think I can tell it the story treading water like this. Let's head back to the beach. By the way," I continued. "Did Steph come? What about her brother?"

"Craig? Alice and I are dating them again, tonight," said Becky. "We need them both male." She giggled. "She's sleeping over tonight, too." She giggled some more.

When we all got settled back on the beach, I began, "This morning, I nearly had another of my famous freak-outs. On the way to Bikini Beach, I was thinking about what Carol said Wednesday about Bikini Beach changes, and then coming to Bikini Beach on Thursday -- being terrified of changing into a girl.

"My fears had proven groundless -- at least that's what I was remembering. Then I kept remembering things, primarily about Vanessa with me in the men's changing room, as well as what she said about being Vernon."

"Oh my," interrupted Jen. "I remember now, you were Luke when you joined Vernon then. And I thought you were Lucy, and got all furious and jealous when you went with Vernon into the men's room! I'm so very sorry!"

"Wasn't your fault." I hugged Jen. "I thought I was Lucy too, and thought that Vernon was Vanessa. Even worse, I didn't even think of being in the men's room until Vanessa pointed it out -- and then I just got confused. This morning, I remembered you being jealous because I as Luke was alone with Vanessa in the men's room.

"I can't remember everything I thought, everything that nagged at me, but I came to suspect that my reassurance was false, a false memory. And Vanessa's mom flat-out confirmed, I would become a girl -- even said that it happened so routinely I should have known -- I got really scared about my mind being messed with.

"I was about to bolt, to run off and take the bus home. Vanessa's mom helped me. At the ticket booth, I learned that Ma arranged with Bikini Beach to make me forget -- forget my own transformations, and everyone else's as well."

"Oh, that's horrible!" said Becky.

"Yes, that's why Jen remembered Vernon, but I remembered Vanessa."

"And I remembered Lucy instead of Luke," added Jen.

"I guess Ma wanted Bikini Beach to make everyone else forget mine as well," I said. "Then Ma forgot when she had Ruth's pass upgraded to lifetime. She doesn't remember any more. I forgot everything about Ruth, with that upgrade!"

"We all did, Luke," said Vanessa. "I'm appalled I forgot what we learned about Ruth that day. Yes, I know Ruth's upgrade did it, but I'm still appalled."

"Peter was furious about how he'd been treated, and was framed for a crime. He was no murderer!" I exclaimed. Everyone spoke at once, and I couldn't get what they were saying. I managed to calm myself down. "I don't want to say any more about Peter, until I've talked with Ruth." I was quite relieved to think up that excuse, and I realized it was the right thing to do, but I really wanted to avoid talking about the murder of Alice's cousin.

"I was telling my story," I said. "Mrs. King demanded no reality-shift, and that I and my friends and my sister remember myself correctly. Anya saw that I was about to freak out about mind control and memory changes. I got more than I expected, in that I think I remember what happened before I began coming here. Vanessa was right on the button."

I stopped, not knowing what else to say.

Vanessa came and hugged me. "If there's anything you'd like to talk about, we're willing to lend an ear." Then she spoke to everyone, "That goes for everyone, right? We all have things we'd forgotten involving Lucy. But meanwhile, we're here to relax and have fun, not to make ourselves miserable."

We had a good time the rest of the day. By silent consensus, we said nothing further about our recovered memories. Except for Becky and Carol, the girls had few memories of me as Luke. We also said nothing about what we learned and then forgot about Ruth and Peter.

We joined Mrs. King and Helen for lunch, and Helen exclaimed, "Wow! I remember now, you're Luke!"

That evening, I went home with Mrs. King as usual. I wasn't sure whether to return to the men's changing room, or go into the woman's room. Vanessa answered, "I'm not sure it matters. I think that whichever you choose, you will know where your locker is, and you will find Lucy's version of your clothes."

I decided that the right thing to do, since I was really a boy -- or at least would be one tomorrow -- was to return to the men's room. I noticed for the first time the sign on it inside Bikini Beach, "women's overflow changing room."

I went to the locker, and found clothes obviously meant for me as Lucy: white bra and panties, white anklet socks and sky-blue sneakers, and a light sky-blue short-ruffle-sleeved dress that ended just above my knees.

I joined Vanessa, Jen, and Helen, and Helen's friend whose name I'd forgotten, and Mrs. King picked us up in the SUV. Rather like an earlier false memory of appearing in a girl's swimsuit, Ma and Pa were now going to see me in a dress -- or worse, as an actual girl! Eek! How could I face them?

Would they even recognize me? Maybe it would be best if they didn't -- it would save major embarrassment. But then where would I go for the night? Presumably, I'd be back to normal in the morning.

Would Ruth recognize me? Funny, I didn't find the idea of Ruth seeing me as a girl mortifying, like my parents. She already knew about the changes. But she was probably over at Daisy's.

When Mrs. King stopped in front of our house, she asked, "Would you like me to come in with you? To explain things, perhaps?"

I had to be brave. I said, still very unsure, "I think I'll be okay."

"I'll wait here, just in case, though," said Mrs. King. "If you need me, come and get me."

I nervously walked up the walkway, and opened the door. "Ma? Pa? I'm home!"

Ma and Pa emerged from Pa's office and the kitchen about the same time. Ma stopped with an expression of shock.

"Who are--" began Pa, when both Daisy and Ruth dashed into the living room from the basement stairs.

"Is that you, Luke?" asked Ruth uncertainly.

"Yes, it's Luke! I remember now!" exclaimed Daisy excitedly. "He's Lucy now. He's been changing from Luke to Lucy, because of Bikini Beach. And -- oh, my God! Ruth, you were Peter!" She turned back to me. "Bikini Beach makes you a very pretty girl, Lucy, Luke."

"Just what I wanna hear," I mumbled. I realized anew that I was wearing a dress in front of my parents.

Ruth suddenly said, "Their car's still out front. Come, I want you to meet Helen!" She grabbed Daisy's hand and led her outside.

I was alone with Ma and Pa now.

"You really are Luke?" asked Ma slowly.

"Yes, Ma. I guess I'm supposed to be your daughter Lucy now."

"Well, you do resemble quite a bit what I saw in the mirror when I was about your age."

"I agree," said Pa. "She looks like an older version of Ruth as well. Very pretty, too." I sighed. "So my question is, just what is going on here?"

I decided to inject a little humor into the situation. "Pa, do you remember saying something a couple days ago? Something like this? `Turn yourself into a girl!'"

"Well yah," answered Pa. "I didn't mean it seriously. Angry sarcasm, you know. I had no idea..."

I wondered if I should tell him that that was a false memory, created by Bikini Beach. I decided against it. I realized that I didn't actually remember the event itself anymore; I only remembered going over it in my mind when I was Luke for real.

"Ma, Pa, do you mind if I go upstairs and put my stuff away?"

"Um, no, not at all, go right ahead," said Ma.

I went up to my bedroom, and opened the door. "My bedroom!" I shouted loud enough for Ma and Pa to come running up. Of course, I remembered it well; the surprise was feigned to get Ma and Pa's attention. It was my bedroom as Lucy. The colors were different -- brighter and more pastel -- and the room was overall much neater. I checked my closet. Hanging inside were dresses of all sorts, including the new adult-like dress I'd bought during the sleepover, and also the leotard-type semi-dress. There was the olive-green miniskirt I'd worn on July 4th. I also saw several swimsuits, including my contraband bikini. There were many things I hoped Pa wouldn't notice.

"Oh my!" said Pa.

"How did all this get here? Where did it all come from?" asked Ma.

"I guess that it changed when I changed this morning," I answered. "Ma, you forgot when you upgraded Ruth's Bikini Beach membership to lifetime. Pa never knew in the first place. Try calling Mrs. Winstead. She knows. You'd probably believe her over me."

"I really shouldn't be saying this, but we're not on speaking terms," said Ma.

I wasn't going to tell her that I'd overheard her dispute with Mrs. Winstead. In particular, I wasn't going to call it a catfight in front of Ma or Pa. "Ma, suppose you called her, and tried to make up with her. Suppose you offered a humble, genuine apology. Maybe even invited her to Sunday Dinner tomorrow."

"That's an idea," answered Ma. "I think I'll try it. She used to be such a good friend."

"Losing one's friends over a single quarrel, that's just so sad," I said. I wondered if I would have thought that as Luke.

Ma went straight to the phone in the kitchen. While she was talking with Mrs. Winstead, Ruth and Daisy returned from visiting the Kings.

"Helen and Greta are very nice," Daisy said. "I want to see them again."

If Mrs. Winstead came to Sunday Dinner tomorrow, I was going to bring up Bikini Beach transformations, if I had the courage and didn't chicken out. The idea was developing in my mind. Perhaps if I had Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto to support me...

"Um, Daisy? Pa?" I began. "Since we had dinner last night with Daisy's parents, I think we should invite them for Sunday Dinner tomorrow. You as well of course, Daisy."

"Oh, yes. Please, Pa?" begged Ruth.

"That sounds like a good idea. But if we're already inviting Ma's friend..." said Pa.

"Oh, there's room for all of us," I said.

At that point, Ma returned to the living room, having apparently finished her phone conversation with Mrs. Winstead.

"Room for what?" she asked, then immediately continued, "Great news! Mrs. Winstead has accepted my apology, and is coming for dinner tomorrow!"

"Ma, could Daisy and her parents come for dinner too?" asked Ruth.

"After all," I added, "I had dinner with them last night."

"Very well. It appears I'm going to have to cook double portions, tomorrow," said Ma. "I'll call and invite them." Ma returned to the phone.

She returned shortly. "Great news!" she said. "Glenn and Ellen -- and Daisy of course -- will be coming for Sunday Dinner tomorrow." It took a moment to recall that Glenn and Ellen were the names of Daisy's parents.

It was late now -- past Ruth's bedtime, and approaching mine. I decided to head off to bed. I recalled wearing nightgowns and even sometimes oversized tee-shirts that I "borrowed" from Pa, but I didn't feel comfortable now in anything but pajamas. I put on a pastel green set, even though the pants were embarrassingly short, and went to bed.

******************************

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 16

Thanks to ElrodW, Bikini Beach's creator, for invaluable comments on this story. The Bikini Beach universe and its principal characters are copyright 2001 by him.

Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical and wrong. As this story is told from a particular point of view by the protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist, and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be disbelieved and rejected.

Sunday, July 20th

Peter and I were having a nice, friendly Taekwondo sparring practice. Suddenly his face turned monstrous, and he launched his hardest, fastest jumping sidekick at my face--

--and I woke up. I cried at the memory; he'd returned from jail so different. He always tried his best not to take things out on me. He'd start, then freeze. After probably counting to twenty or fifty, he apologized. Now he no longer existed as Peter; he was Ruth, my nine-year-old sister.

I finally noticed that I was back to normal, as Luke. My bedroom was also back to normal.

Lucy's body as I remembered now, felt incredibly strange. Not only that, I was really embarrassed at being seen by Ma and Pa as a girl. Utterly mortified.

I remembered Peter, returning home after being gone four or five days. His face was all changed -- looked older, meaner, disfigured, angry. He was quick to anger, but also very quick to apologize to me. He clearly was trying his best to avoid getting angry at me. He was stuck at home practically all the time; his attorney came to visit a couple times, and sometimes took him out -- apparently to the court.

I remember once, he came back from a court session and happily told me that he was free to do as he wanted -- the murder case against him was dismissed. DNA testing, he'd said. The murderer's DNA didn't match his own.

I remember being shocked that Ma was furious and upset at this outcome. "Think of the girl he raped and murdered!" I overheard, followed by Peter's angry bellow, "I did no such thing!"

Saturday, Ma inexplicably (at the time -- I understood now) took us to Bikini Beach.

And Peter became Ruth.

I was uncontrollably furious, now. I punched my bed, punched my pillow, and was bouncing around my bed. I thought of getting up right then and there, to go punch Ma out, almost forgetting that Ma had completely forgotten. Ruth knocked at the door, and I froze, embarrassed at being caught or overheard. "Come in, Ruth!" I called.

"Luke, you scare me!" She approached gingerly. "What makes you so angry?"

I reached out and took her up in a hard hug. "It's what they did to you, Peter. It seemed like Ma even wanted you convicted and severely punished for Jill's murder. I guess I didn't tell you -- I remember everything now, I think."

Ruth sat on my lap and leaned against me, and I kept my arms around her. I don't know how long we sat like that. I think both of us dozed off. At one point I realized that I really had to go to the bathroom.

Both of us took care of that particular issue, and then we got in our bathrobes, preparing to go down for breakfast.

I noticed that that dress I wore had reverted to jeans and tee-shirt. I checked my closet, and yes, it had reverted too. The girl's July-4th swimsuit was still there, while the other swimsuits were now my knee-length swimming trunks.

The adult-like dress had changed to the well-fitting suit of Wednesday night. Of course, I was going to wear this again rather than that old ill-fitting suit.

Downstairs, Ma had just finished cooking breakfast, and we began eating in silence.

After a little bit, Pa finally spoke out. "What happened last night? Did I have a really bizarre dream, or did a very pretty young teenage girl actually appear, claiming to be Luke?"

I couldn't see my face, but I could feel it about to catch fire. I pushed through my embarrassment to go on. "Yes, Pa, I really was that `very pretty young teenage girl.'" I actually managed to admit that to Pa! It helped my embarrassment to say that in a sarcastic tone. "Bikini Beach changed me."

"Okay, okay, I'll accept that," said Pa. "Especially as she resembled an older Ruth, about your age. Your bedroom somehow changed to a girl's bedroom, too. At some point, though, I would like an explanation. One that makes sense, that is."

"I don't think I can give any kind of explanation that makes sense," I said. "Bikini Beach transformations aren't meant to be understood by mere mortals." I was quoting Carol, who'd said that earlier. I turned to Ma. "Your dispute with Mrs. Winstead? I hope you realize that she was totally right. She wasn't insane; you'd forgotten instead."

Ma looked perplexed. "She said that I'd forgotten, but how could I have forgotten such a major thing? The whole thing was crazy."

"As crazy as me coming home last night as a very pretty young teenage girl, Ma. Bikini Beach made us forget all about Ruth, when you got her that upgrade the day after July 4th. You forgot. But Mrs. Winstead remembered.

"But Pa." I turned to him. "Bikini Beach Transformations -- every boy or man who goes to Bikini Beach changes to a girl."

"Ohhhh-kaaaaaay?" said Pa, drawing it out. "So you were a girl yesterday. What about Thursday? Tuesday? Every time you went to Bikini Beach beforehand?"

"Reality-shifts, memory changes, who knows what, occur. I don't understand it. But until yesterday, whenever I was Lucy, we all thought I was always Lucy. And whenever I was Luke, we all thought I was always Luke." I decided to leave it at that. I didn't want to confuse things any further, suggesting that Ma and Ruth may have known otherwise before July 4th, or telling that I was Lucy for two whole weeks.

"So what happened yesterday? Something must have happened differently," Pa said.

"Yesterday, I was on the verge of freaking out about the mental malpractice, and demanded no reality shift, and also to remember what I'd been really."

Ma said, "Now everyone, we must keep our focus on the Truth in Christian Science: there is one Mind, and disagreements, confusion, misunderstanding, mental malpractice, panic, `freaking out' are impossible in Science."

Sigh. I should have known Ma would say something like that. At least I didn't have to try to explain further, as Ma turned on the tape player for the Mental Work.

During the section on mental malpractice and mental malpractitioners, I thought I of what I could have said in response: "There is one Mind, and mental malpractice is impossible in Science." Then I remembered that Ma had said that herself.

Then we got ready for Sunday School and Church. Now that I remembered, this was one case where it was better being Lucy. A nicely fitting, comfortable dress was better than that old suit I wore. Fortunately, I now got to wear the new suit that fit me properly.

As soon as Sunday School ended, Ruth and I accosted each other. "Let's go outside and talk," I said.

As we went out, Ruth commented, "Beth looks a bit sick now."

"The girl in your class visiting for the summer?" I asked.

"Yeah, her."

We said nothing more about it, as we found the rock. I was leery of wrecking this new suit I was wearing, so I didn't sit on that rock. Instead, I leaned against the wall of the church.

"I'm concerned about dinner," I said. "Mrs. Winstead and Daisy and her parents are going to join us. How am I going to bring up Bikini Beach and everything?"

"Well, just do it," said Ruth. Ruth was sounding a little like before, when she had a certain maturity and adultness that I now realized were Peter in her. "That's what Grandfather told Hallie in `The Parent Trap.'"

I didn't get to see that movie; Pa checked it out, and declared that eleven-year-old girls acting sassy, naughty, and overly-modern were immoral. Apparently, they even showed one of the girls naked! "I take it you saw it at a friend's house?"

"Yeah. last spring. Julie invited us to a sleepover, and we watched the movie."

For a moment, I forgot that that never happened, because Ruth was Peter then, still in high school.

"Ruth, I remember you as Peter before visiting Bikini Beach, and that Bikini Beach changed you to Ruth. You don't remember anything about it, right?"

"No, I don't remember," she answered. "But I realize it happened. You remember. Daisy remembers. Mrs. Winstead told Ma. And I have an eight-year membership upgraded to a lifetime membership. And of course, you came home last night as Lucy."

I blushed, and laughed a little. "Pa called me a `very pretty young teenage girl.'"

"I agree," said Ruth. "Daisy agrees as well. You were very pretty." Ruth paused, and then said, "If you can't bring up Peter, I'll do it."

During church, I was worrying about Sunday Dinner with the Matsumotos and Mrs. Winstead. Would I have the courage to bring up Bikini Beach? Would Ma allow it? What would Mr. Matsumoto say? It was scary.

I tried to plan out what I would say, or how I would raise the issue. My mind kept going around in circles, forgetting what it thought just before. I decided Ruth was right: just do it.

Usually Ma socialized considerably after church, but this time Ma decided we had to get home to get Sunday Dinner ready. Chicken, she said, was already in the oven, but there was still plenty more to do.

When we got home, Ma had us all get out of our Sunday clothes, and then help prepare the dinner. Apparently, this was to be even bigger event than Sunday Dinners usually were, because we had guests coming.

We had everything set up just in time to hear the doorbell ring. I went to answer it. "Hello, Mrs. Winstead. Please come in." She wore a long red dress, and had her hair tied up into a bun.

"Hello, Luke. I'm very happy to meet you."

In the living room I called out, "Ma, Mrs. Winstead's here!"

Ma promptly came and said, "Hello Deborah. I'm very glad you could come."

I decided it would be a very good idea to get back into that suit. I wondered if I should eat in the older, uncomfortable suit, but decided I didn't care to feel that uncomfortable. I would be uncomfortable as it is, talking about Bikini Beach changing people and making us forget.

The doorbell rang again just as I was heading back downstairs. Pa answered the door this time, staring briefly at Mrs. Matsumoto to the accompaniment of Daisy's suppressed giggles. Pa shook himself visibly, and said, "Glenn, Ellen, Daisy. Welcome to our humble abode."

Mr. Matsumoto chuckled. "Dan, still the joker."

We sat down at the feast Ma cooked up. Daisy and Ruth chatted, and the adults chatted. I kept silent for the most part, paying little attention to the chatting, wondering when and how to bring up Peter or Bikini Beach.

At one point, Mr. Matsumoto said, "Luke, I notice you've remained mostly silent. I sense that something's on your mind."

Okay, here goes. "Yeah. I had a very interesting, yet very strange experience at Bikini Beach yesterday. And going home, I was concerned that my family wouldn't recognize me, because I wasn't my usual self."

That led to loud laughter from Daisy and Ruth, and chuckles from Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto and Ma. Pa let out a guffaw.

"In fact," I continued, "I was as Pa put it, a `very pretty young teenage girl.'"

"Luke, why are you telling us this?" asked Mrs. Winstead.

"Well, for one thing, Ma hasn't fully admitted that you were right and she was wrong in your dispute."

"Young man, that was adult discussion, and is not your concern," said Ma.

"On the contrary, it very much concerns me -- and not only because Bikini Beach turned me into that `very pretty young teenage girl.' Ma, you forgot everything when you had Mrs. Winstead upgrade Ruth's Bikini Beach membership to lifetime. It's -- what's the phrase? Oh, yes, poetic justice, that you made yourself forget when you made the rest of us forget Ruth's prior life."

Ma hesitated, and then said in slighly shaky tone, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, but Mrs. Winstead knows. And I can see you remember what she told you. I only wish we could make you remember everything. A truly insidious part was that you had Bikini Beach reality-shift everything away just the day after July 4th -- when I first learned about Bikini Beach transformations and reality-shifts. That was also when I learned -- Vanessa figured out -- what Ruth couldn't tell us herself, that she had been changed from my big brother, Peter.

"That lifetime upgrade made us forget all this about Ruth."

"Young man," said Ma sternly. "I have just about had enough of this nonsense."

"On the other hand," said Pa, "I am quite interested in knowing more about this. If Luke hadn't come home as a girl yesterday, I would have wondered if he weren't on drugs. I also remember a couple weeks ago, you, Erin, arriving home in a rage over Mrs. Winstead and what she told her -- and it appears to be as Luke said."

Mrs. Winstead said, "Okay, it appears that I have to tell you what happened. As Luke points out, I'm the only one who remembers now." I didn't bother to interrupt and correct her. "Peter was arrested for the rape and murder of Jill Denison, and eventually confessed." I couldn't help shifting and growling softly in anger, but I held my peace.

Mrs. Winstead continued, "Despite the repeated requests not to, Mr. Cuttington refused to listen to reason, and insisted on hiring a lawyer for Peter."

Ma then said, "It's a major, serious issue to be arrested or get in trouble with the law. Love must be tough and firm. Firmlove has shown what a serious mistake it is to enable misconduct by hiring a lawyer to get a person off when he is in trouble with the law. Children and young adults must understand that acts have consequences."

Pa broke in. "Erin, Mrs. Winstead, no child of mine is going to be prosecuted for a crime involving potential execution or long imprisonment without the best defense money can buy. Not even if I know he's guilty."

"Mr. Cuttington, we saw the consequences of your hiring the lawyer. He got off scott-free."

"Hey!" I couldn't let that go by. "My brother was falsely accused of the rape and murder of Jill, terrorized into falsely confessing, and finally cleared through DNA testing. The police probably put him through the same kind of Hell--"

"Luke!" exclaimed Ma.

I glared at Ma. "Like I said, HELL, that the New York police put several black boys through," I gradually stood up as I continued to glare without a blink at Ma, "in the Central Park rape case, to make them falsely confess. Peter had disappeared -- was arrested several days before anyone told us. My God, I can't imagine he horror it must have been." I was getting more and more angry. "He had changed due to the police -- easily provoked to rage." I sat down again.

"Then, when Peter was cleared, Ma and her Firmlove gang--"

"Luke," interrupted Ma. "It's most offensive to call Firmlove a gang."

"Whatever," I snapped, annoyed at the interruption. "They decided that Peter should be punished and reformed by changing into nine-year-old Ruth. Bikini Beach changed the world, and changed our memories to remember only Ruth -- their reality shift. Ma and Ruth still remembered, but Ruth was unable to say anything about her past as Peter, and was driven crazy trying. It usually came out as gibberish, but sometimes I was able to figure out what she meant. After the first week or so, she started leaving -- as Mrs. Winstead called it -- clues about her change. In any case, Peter's life was utterly ruined."

"Bikini Beach's reality shifts," said Mr. Matsumoto, "Of course, I don't remember anything about Peter--"

"I do!" interrupted Daisy. "I just remembered when Lucy came home last night!"

"Daisy," said Mr. Matsumoto, "I would like to discuss this at some point. But anyway, the suspect who has been in custody almost since the Denison murder is a young black male. I haven't been seriously following the case, but he appears to have confessed as well."

"Mr. Matsumoto, that reminds me. Some time back, before the upgrade of Ruth's membership, Ruth told me that she tried to persuade you to get DNA testing for the suspect. I know I forgot about it after the upgrade, until yesterday -- by the way, Mrs. Winstead, I remember the full past now as well.

"But I'm really concerned that whatever you did was wiped out with the upgrade's reality shift. I'm also concerned that they coerced the confession from that suspect the same way they did with Peter. Also, Mrs. Winstead, it should have occurred to you and Ma that with another suspect taking Peter's place, Peter was innocent from the start."

"Come on, Luke. Innocence talk is merely pretext to get a criminal off."

"Luke," said Mr. Matsumoto. "Oh so often, when you say something, what's heard is blah-blah-blah-blabitty blah. Sometimes when you say something such as, `The car left skidmarks on the road,' what they might hear is 'Blah car blah skidmarks blah blah blah.' One might think that even that would suffice to get the meaning across, but no. If they extract any meaning from it, it leads to howlers like, `Jeff said that John drove the skidmarks home.'"

"Sir," huffed Mrs. Winstead. "I don't know who you are or what you think you are, but you'd better not be insinuating anything about my comprehension."

"Mrs. Winstead, it's quite possible that you don't know about DNA testing. However, only a mindless incompetent wouldn't figure out that when police arrest two different suspects for a crime committed by a single criminal, one is guaranteed to be innocent -- oh, dash it all. I can see you've already fogged out, Mrs. Winstead." Indeed, it certainly looked like it. "Mindless incompetent looks almost literal on you now, Mrs. Winstead."

Mr. Matsumoto continued, "As for DNA testing, I'll contact both the defense attorney and the prosecutor tomorrow first thing." He took out a small pad and a pen, and jotted something down. "It does seem as if Bikini Beach wiped out an attempt to get evidence for the defense. Ellen and I have our own experience with Bikini Beach and its transformations and its reality shifts."

"It's mental malpractice," said Ruth.

"That's a good term for it," said Mr. Matsumoto. "Making one forget critical information, changing a family member and rewriting everyone's memory of him. It's Orwell taken to a literal extreme."

"This is all gross exaggeration," said Mrs. Winstead a little breathlessly. "It's just a simple reality shift. Bikini Beach changed the past so that Peter never existed, and your family had Ruth all along."

I was confused for a moment, but then managed to think of a rejoinder. "So Ruth always existed, and Peter never existed?"

"Right," answered Mrs. Winstead.

"And I suppose that Ruth never kept proclaiming his innocence, never left clues as you call it, never pestered Mr. Matsumoto about DNA testing, never read Astronomy Magazine? Bikini Beach yesterday conveniently gave me false memories of Ruth doing all those things, and false memories of Peter? The same false memories you had all along.

"Oh, come on, Luke!" said Mrs. Winstead.

"Everything you said about Peter was totally false? There was no Peter to be accused of the murder? And you got false memories of taking Ruth to Bikini Beach for her pass upgrade and the reality-shift? None of them actually occurred?

"You and I both have phony memories of a reality-shift that never occurred? It's all mental malpractice." I decided to end on that high note.

"I'm beginning to think that Mrs. P-- was right," said Ma. "Maybe I should never have brought you up listening to the Mental Work."

"The Mental Work tells about the problem of mental malpractice, but doesn't tell how to fight it," I said. "Ma, you never learned to fight mental malpractice from the Mental Work. You never managed to prevent your own mind from being wiped along with everyone else's.

"It was mental malpractice of the highest degree when my own memories were wiped of my big brother Peter, and when Pa's memories were wiped of his first-born son."

"Glenn Matsumoto, Esquire," Pa said. "If you agree, you have a new client. I wish to retain you for possible legal action against Bikini Beach. And everyone, I'm putting my foot down. No more Bikini Beach for any of us. We can't tell what it does with our minds."

"Very well," answered Mr. Matsumoto. "My billing rate is $250 per hour of work. I won't start the clock until I begin work after finishing this lovely meal. I will discuss preliminary caveats and issues. The first is this: when Bikini Beach is involved, there's no telling what really happened. They probably could make any legal action and all memories thereof vanish in a puff of smoke."

"Their reality-shifts," added Mrs. Matsumoto.

"Put aside that procedural issue for the moment, to consider possible substantive claims. I believe that a case could be made against Bikini Beach for vigilante justice. However, vigilante justice isn't a crime or a tort per se. It's the acts involved that are crimes or torts -- assault, battery, trespass, murder. Ruth might have a case against Bikini Beach, battery for the unwanted transformation, trespass and battery for the memory wipe later. The transformation leaving her unable to articulate her story -- that might be criminal obstruction of justice; there might be a similar civil claim as well as intentional infliction of emotional distress.

"All of us, the entire world even, might have a class action for trespass and battery of the collective memory wipe and reality shift.

"If Ruth ever remembers her experience with the police, we might be able to sue them for their conduct with Peter, although at present, they have literally no memory of that. It occurs to me that, if DNA testing goes through, and the current suspect is exonerated and commences legal action against the police, the police could use as defense that they never did it to him, that Bikini Beach's reality shift created phony memories, phony evidence, and phony arrest and interrogation. But that's not our issue for now.

"But back to the procedural issues -- I'm using that phrase as a euphemism for pretty much anything that would sabotage the case, apart from the merits. As I mentioned earlier, with their mind-control and reality-shifting talents, they can wipe any attempted lawsuit out of existence. The second practical issue is that judges are natural skeptics, and may simply throw out with sanctions a case alleging mind control and reality-shifting, before getting to the hard evidence.

"Unfortunately, the case would also be against you, Mrs. Cuttington, and you Mrs. Winstead, for vicarious liability in inducing Bikini Beach to change Peter into Ruth. I wouldn't, of course, until you got your memory restored."

"Why don't we simply discuss it with the people at Bikini Beach?" asked Ma. "I'm sure they're reasonable people, and they may be able to fix things up."

"That's so crazy, it just might work," said Mr. Matsumoto. "You're right, they appear to be reasonable people. At least Grandmother was nice enough to restore my memories in my wife's encounter a decade ago -- I think. When Bikini Beach is involved, though, you never really know what happened. In any case, that may be the only thing we can do. I'm willing to try it."

"Shall we go?" I asked.

"Now's as good as any time," answered Mr. Matsumoto.

"Daisy? Ruth?" Pa called out. "We have to go somewhere."

I noticed that they had left the table some time back. They were probably tired of the adult conversation.

"One thing, Mr. Matsumoto," I said, as Ruth and Daisy reentered the dining room. "Daisy remembered Peter, and me in my Lucy form as Luke, when nobody else did yesterday. Not only that, she appeared to have at least faint echoes of memories of Peter considerably earlier. This indicates resistance to Bikini Beach's mind control or reality shifts. I don't think she should come with us to Bikini Beach, as she might attract their attention."

"I agree." Mrs. Matsumoto visibly shuddered. "I'll stay with Daisy and Ruth."

"Ruth comes with us," said Mr. Matsumoto. "She's the center of the issue, and I think they need to see who they changed."

We were already dressed from Sunday dinner, so thank goodness, we didn't have to dress up again. We got into our car, and Ma drove us to Bikini Beach. Since we weren't going to buy tickets, we bypassed the lines to go straight to the ticket booth.

We reached the window at the edge of the building, and the saleslady said, "Sorry, we cannot serve you, when you skip the lines like that."

Mr. Matsumoto said, "We aren't interested in admission. We wish to discuss with management certain issues that would normally be the subject of litigation."

The saleslady went white. I felt sorry and embarrassed for her, clearly fearing that they could be in real trouble. She turned and called, "Anya, we have a complaint!"

Anya was one of the salesladies, and took a moment to get a replacement before she came over. She immediately opened a door off to the side. "Please come in."

As we entered, she called out, "Grandmother, we may have a serious case here." Was she reading our minds or what? Turning back to us, she said, "Let's go to a conference room."

I was scared. I'd never met Grandmother, but I'd heard she was a stern and powerful old lady, responsible for the magic behind Bikini Beach. Becky had met her once, and for her, once was enough. I glanced down at Ruth; she seemed nervous as well.

A side door opened, and Grandmother emerged.