Apprehensive as Lucy is about Peter becoming a hot seventeen-year-old bikini-clad babe, she never expects Peter's actual transformation or its side effects.

        The Disclaimer

Bikini Beach and its principle characters are copyright 1998 by Elrod W.

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.

Despite this I will admit to pushing the limits of Bikini-Beach canon, perhaps even going outside on occasion.

This post (https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog-entry/64659/muse-wrestli...) persuaded me that waiting to complete and revise my long stories before posting posting may have been an ungood idea. As it is, the sequel still isn't complete more than half a decade later. Consequently, there is NO WARRANTY that this won't be revised as part of the final story.

This part needs lots of revision.

        Back to Friday, August 8
        Glenn Matsumoto's Story

DESPITE THE PANICKED warning of his former friend Stanley Larson, Glenn Matsumoto was convinced that Alima al-Hamdani had indeed been reality-shifted out of existence. This also meant, consistent with "capabilities beyond your imagination", that Stan was involved with a magical faction within the criminal Syndicate. Stan need not be a participant, Glenn realized. He could be some kind of investigator, possibly with access to the magical tools needed to properly investigate them.

Glenn had tried to analyze whether it would be better to become Glinda permanently. Ultimately, he thought, it would become the coward's way out. He would escape having to do anything about the Syndicate and magic injustice. He would also ruin Ellen's life, and what she made of it. She would lose virtually all her martial training and talent -- although it might make her safer as well. But that was Ellen's choice, not his. It had to be an informed choice, too.

The one advantage would be that his client wouldn't have been murdered. Glenn Matsumoto would have been, but not Glenn himself as Glinda. As Glinda, she'd been unable to find any other murders due to the Syndicate, but he couldn't rule out any either. The Syndicate was definitely bigger and more powerful.

That wouldn't rule out taking the occasional vacation as Glinda -- as long as both Daisy and Ellen knew full well what was going on. It would be exciting to have that hot bad boy as well. It would be most unethical to hold him as a boyfriend or boy toy, while working on his Wendy case as Glenn.

He thought back to Alima, the young lady whom he'd forgotten and whose case files had disappeared. Had they gotten to her? Or had she escaped? Or both? Might it have been out of the frying pan and into the fire? Unfortunately, Alima hadn't provided any kind of information about the man trying to recruit her. His time as Glinda hadn't provided any further information about her case, although he remembered it.

An idea occurred to him. He was Glinda when, to all the world, he'd been murdered ostensibly in a robbery gone bad. Could anything like that have happened to his former client? Might the client have been transformed by some mage instead? Someone would exist in this world, who didn't exist in Glinda's world.

That was an extraordinary long shot, Glenn realized. Searching for such a person would be like finding a needle in a haystack. Nevertheless...

Glenn retrieved his notebook from Jim's file.

        Saturday, August 16

BECKY, TRACY, AND I were walking toward the men's changing room. The sign inside Bikini Beach declared it to be the women's overflow locker room, but Becky and I knew what it really was. Despite myself, I was getting disconcerted and even creeped out thinking of Peter as a hot bikini-clad seventeen-year-old girl, and it was only getting worse.

Grandmother emerged from the locker room with a girl about Daisy's age at her side. The girl was wearing a t-shirt and shorts.

Tracy waved and called out, "Hello, Grandmother!" Grandmother waved back, and I felt obligated to wave as well, as I returned my attention to the men's changing room, awaiting with dread, anticipation, and even a bit of nausea the bikini-clad seventeen-year-old girl I'd hopefully recognize as Peter.

I missed something Tracy said, but the strangely familiar piercing shout of the young girl yanked my attention back. "Lucy! My goodness, you weren't joking Thursday night. You really are my kid brother, Luke! Hey, Carol!" I noticed Carol in her bikini, out of the corner of my eye. She'd caught up with us.

Even as the young girl spoke, her gaze shifted to Tracy and Becky on my left, and her face contorted into loathing and fury that I'd never seen in a kid. Confounded and flummoxed, and even nauseated, I could only call out, "Peter?" And here I'd been agonizing myself over Peter as a seventeen-year-old bikini-clad babe.

"In the flesh -- about one-third, I'd hazard," she growled. "Apparently mass isn't conserved at Bikini Beach." Grandmother glanced down and chuckled.

"But what--? How--? Why--? Tracy-- Becky--" I couldn't speak right. "You know them!" I finally managed a complete sentence.

"Becky's Bruce; she's fine. But Tracy--" Ruth glanced up at a tap on the shoulder from Grandmother. "What, how, and why? Bikini Beach blundered again. Hey, Vanessa! Is Helen here?"

I looked around, and saw Vanessa and the rest of the girls behind us. How the heck did Ruth know Vanessa and Helen?

"Yeah," Vanessa answered. "She ran off with friends for the Junior Lifeguard Academy."

Grandmother was observing this in silence, but now said something to Ruth that I couldn't hear.

Ruth said, "Grandmother, Anya, and I have to discuss my change. See you later, Luke."

"Later, Ruth," I echoed, as the two continued on their way.

I only half-heard Carol's remark, "Bikini Beach blundered again?" I had my own epiphany to deal with.

Ruth?

I realized that I'd been thinking of little-girl Peter as Ruth almost since encountering her. Somehow, I knew she was Ruth, my nine-year-old sister, without being told. I was even now remembering more and more of her.

I wasn't forgetting Peter. I kept tripping over my big brother as my little sister. Eventually, my mind was all tripped out, and I realized a few things. Peter had taken it all in stride -- not only being a nine-year-old girl, but seeing Carol in her bikini. He'd already had it bad for Carol, usually in t-shirt and jeans. I could hardly imagine his reaction to Carol in a bikini.

Tracy laughed. "This is so funny. Ruth has suddenly decided she hates me. Like, Becky's the good twin and I'm the evil twin or something."

"Most peculiar, indeed," I commented. The really peculiar part was Tracy's having apparently forgotten Peter within the past five or ten minutes.

"And his crack about `Becky's Bruce'." Tracy snorted. "Becky never owned anyone, certainly not a Bruce."

"Oh, Come on, Tracy," said Faline. "Expressions like `Jill's Jack' means the Jack of `Jack and Jill', as opposed to `Jack and the Beanstalk', `Jack Pumpkinhead', `Jack Skellington', and `Jack the Ripper'. It doesn't mean that Jill owns Jack."

"I'm Becky. I mean, I'm -- I'm -- the BR word." Becky sighed.

"It was a contraction, not a possessive," I said, not trusting myself any more than Becky to say Bruce's name.

"In other words, Becky is Bruce." Vanessa glanced at me with a knowing look. That settled it; she knew about Becky and me.

Becky giggled, sounding a bit relieved even as she blushed, and I laughed a little as well. "Strange, isn't it?" I said. "Just like Ruth is Peter."

"And Lucy is Luke," added Carol. Now, I blushed and giggled in embarrassment, even as I reminded myself I wouldn't be embarrassed about anything ever again. It didn't help. Anyway, the cat was out of the bag.

Tracy's jaw had been incrementally dropping, and her eyes incrementally widening, as in astonishment or rage. "Okay, okay! Just one itty-bitty, teenie-weenie thing. Have we all gone squirrelly nuts?!"

"I second the question," said Faline.

Tracy continued, "I've known Becky ever since I can remember! She's not Bruce; her name has never been Bruce. We share a bedroom at home. We routinely change in front of each other. I've seen her at home. I've seen her in the girls' locker room, and I've seen her -- well, I just saw her. She's no boy, never has been!"

"But--" said someone.

"And I've known Lucy. Got that? Lucy! Not a boy named Luke. And Ruth was her nice little sister. Occasionally bratty, perhaps."

"Little Miss Snarker," said Jen softly, giggling.

"And did she know about mass conservation?" asked Carol. "Specifically those words? `Mass isn't conserved at Bikini Beach'?"

Tracy stood frozen, except for her jaw going up and down.

"People are looking strangely at us," said Carol. "Let's go find a nice quiet place, and hammer this out once and for all."

"No, let's hammer it out right here and now, in front of everyone," said Tracy. "Shout it from the rooftops! Let everyone know."

"We'll disturb everyone," said Jen.

"So?"

"They'll call Grandmother in on us," said Vanessa. "We'll get in trouble."

Tracy just stood there, arms crossed, her fury palpable.

I suddenly felt mischievous. "You look so sassy and sexy, fuming in a bikini." Did anyone else sense an incongruity in the situation?

"Thanks a lot, Lucy," grumbled Tracy. Becky and Jen giggled, while Faline and Xena laughed outright.

"Guys," said Vanessa. "Let's take Carol's suggestion and resolve this once and for all in a nice private, shaded place, where we won't disturb anyone else."

Vanessa started off, into the South Seas Adventures. As the rest of us followed, I said, "Last week, I let it slip to Aunt Yuko about Becky and me. She knows now. Sorry about that, Becky."

"That's okay. I prefer that you all know, even though it's a bit embarrassing. As long as Mom and Dad don't find out."

"But you're okay with Aunt Yuko?" I asked

"Yeah, she's cool."

I giggled. "I always thought her hot, back then."

Everyone laughed, except Tracy, who was still fuming.

"You too, Tracy." I smiled at her.

"Don't try to butter me up, Lucy," she grumbled. I shrugged.

"But Aunt Yuko's known about Bikini Beach all along?" asked Becky.

"Apparently," I said. "Although she didn't know about us, until I let it slip."

"You and Becky both let it slip several times," said Vanessa.

"I wouldn't be surprised," I said.

"It's strange, in that Bikini Beach tries to keep us from slipping up," said Vanessa. "They can only do the obvious things. I suspected you were changed boys right from the start. When I became certain? Can't say."

"There's a nice spot!" said Faline, pointing toward a large tree near the Bikini Beach wall, with nice-looking roots to sit on.

"Yes!" exclaimed Xena, as we dashed over there. The shade was wonderful. A slight breeze was just enough to keep us comfortably cool.

Comfortably seated in a circle at the roots of the tree, we all were apparently waiting for someone else to begin.

Finally, Faline spoke. "So you're saying that, despite everything we've seen, everything we can see, Lucy and Becky are boys?" She glanced down at my crotch. I managed to resist my instinct to slam my legs together and pull my knees up and in. In fact, I shifted up, spread my legs, and looked her in the eyes.

"Not now, idiot!" exclaimed Becky. "We're both girls, now. Obviously!" She spread her knees apart. "But before coming here--" she waved her arm about, indicating Bikini Beach, "-- we were girls! Oh, fuck-it-all!"

"Boys. Bikini Beach prevented Becky from saying it, but they were boys before Bikini Beach," corrected Vanessa quickly. "Bikini Beach changed them."

Something came to mind. "Those hunks of yours, Tracy. Now, can you figure what happened to them?"

"Oh, them!" It looked as if a light turned on in Tracy. "I'd forgotten about them. So they became girls, eh?" She snorted.

"You forgot them?" asked Feline, incredulously. "You were obsessed with finding them."

"All in vain," added Carol.

"It makes a certain amount of sense," said Vanessa. "After all, Bikini Beach is for girls only, so any boy who goes in must become a girl."

"He's a boy outside, then?" asked Jen. "A Guy In Real Life? A G-I-R-L GIRL?" Most of us laughed at that.

"Nice acronym," said Carol.

"Indeed," agreed Vanessa. "But no, not exactly."

"Exactly?" said Faline. "Either he's a boy outside, or he's not."

"Hold your horses," replied Vanessa. "A boy comes in and becomes a girl. He's still a girl when he leaves. He remains a girl until several hours after his guest pass expires."

Nothing new here, for me.

"I have a two-month BB membership," Vanessa continued. "It ends a couple weeks after school begins, and I'll turn back into Vernon then."

"Wha-wha-wha-wha," exclaimed Faline, accompanied by Xena and Jen with their own exclamations.

"You too?" asked Carol.

"Yeah, me too," said Vanessa with a slight sigh.

"You never told us!" said Tracy.

"Well, what do you expect?" said Vanessa. "Would anyone have believed me?"

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses!" exclaimed Faline. "Sanity check, sanity check!"

"Yes?" asked Vanessa.

"This is still utter nuts!" said Faline.

"Yeah. Thanks for reminding me," agreed Tracy. "How the heck did I get to thinking that way, anyway? I remember Becky, Mom and Dad remember Becky. Aunt Yuko remembers Becky, our friends remember Becky. Lucy, too! And I remember Ruth as well!"

"But--" began Becky.

"Okay, I only met Ruth a few times this past year, but she was always Lucy's nice, friendly, little sister -- never Peter, whatever he was. And now, you're saying she's Peter. And you're Luke, and you're Bruce, you pest!"

"Again, were," said Becky. "Not now."

"And now Ruth has suddenly decided she hates me!" said Tracy.

"A clue," said Vanessa. "Why would Ruth suddenly hate you?"

"I have no idea," replied Tracy.

"Something changed," said Vanessa. "Remember the trouble and embarrassment Lucy and Becky had with tampons?"

I was about to dispute the embarrassment part, when I realized that events of that last week or so had been different. I held my peace, although I renewed my vow to myself -- never made, supposedly, not to be embarrassed. I knew what had happened, and I wasn't going to let any spell tell me otherwise.

Something still bugged me. "How the heck did you say that?" I asked Vanessa.

"Me? Say what?"

"Oh, I know. Vernon isn't your real name." Sort-of like me with Lucifer or `Lucy-fer', she had to make up a fake name.

"Really, it is my name. I went and asked Anya to let me say it. I can say I was a boy. I couldn't starting out. BB does that since it sounds insane if she says she's a boy, or was a transformed boy."

"Because it is insane!" said Faline.

"Yeah," said Tracy.

"I'm having trouble remembering," said Becky. "I remember strange. There's Peter before I ... came here. But afterwards, it's all Ruth."

"I never heard of that," said Vanessa. "Very interesting."

"And I can say Peter," Becky added.

"You're telling us that people are transformed," said Faline. "Everyone else only remembers their new selves, right?"

"Yes?" I said, wondering what her point would be.

"Perhaps your mind has been manipulated to think that you were a boy Luke. Oh right. You and Becky came together. You were both mind-raped to think that you were the boys Luke and Bruce."

No-no-no, I wasn't going to get all embarrassed at Faline's use of "rape" or "mind-raped". I paused and took a deep breath.

Meanwhile, Becky asked, "Then why can't I say Lucy and Becky? Fuck, you know what I mean."

"Becky," said Tracy. "You might want to watch your colorful metaphors."

"Yeah," added Carol. "You might wind up saying one where you don't want to say it. When Grandmother's around, for example."

"That's part of the mind-rape," continued Faline. "You think you were transformed, and you're prevented from saying so. You were always Lucy and Becky."

"I'm going to make a prediction," said Vanessa. "In one week, when Lucy and Becky's memberships end, you, Tracy and Faline, will tell them that they were always boys, and only imagined or were mind-raped into believing that they were transformed into girls. Perhaps they only imagined even coming to Bikini Beach, and joining us.

"Faline, Xena, Jen, and Carol, you might even forget about them. Heck, I might even."

"No-no-no, oh God no!" exclaimed Jen. "Not that! Please, I don't want to forget any of you!" Jen burst into tears.

I had a hard time holding my own tears in.

"Let's go and see if Anya will do anything about this, okay?"

Everyone agreed. As we got up, I thought back a moment before remembering that Anya was the old woman's granddaughter. Then I remembered something else.

"Carol?" I asked. "Didn't Ruth mention Anya?"

"Yes, she did," answered Carol. "She said other things indicating that she was familiar with Bikini Beach."

"You're right. She knew Vanessa and Helen. Hey, Vanessa!" I called out, jogging to catch up. "Did you know Peter or Ruth?"

"Nope. I didn't know him as either. As far as I know, Ruth never knew Helen either. There's something curious, fishy, about this."

"At least Ruth didn't view you as... well... evil," said Tracy.

"Yes definitely," said Vanessa. "Something very fishy is going on."

"Oh!" This reminded me. "I'm so mad, I never took eighth-grade algebra, and Peter never gave me the geometry textbook back in June!"

We arrived at the office building. Before we entered, Vanessa warned us, "Let's not say anything about the fishiness with Ruth. We might want to find out things they don't want us to find out." She looked at each of us one by one, and we entered. Vanessa asked if we could all see Anya.

"Unfortunately, Anya is unavailable. She's with Grandmother and a young girl apparently just transformed, having a heated discussion." The young girl was obviously Ruth. Someone clasped my right hand from behind, and squeezed it, reminding me not to mention Ruth -- at least that was my assumption.

Anya appeared just then. "I really need a break and a drink," she said breathlessly and angrily. "Vicky, please get me a Sprite, and I'll talk with them."

Vicky left, and Anya took a deep breath and visibly calmed herself down. "Okay," she began when Vicky returned with her Sprite. Twisting the bottle top off, she took a big swig, and sighed. "That's better."

"Anya, we really don't want to forget each other and our experiences at Bikini Beach, once any of us change back."

Anya opened her mouth, then paused with a guilty expression before saying, "Of course. I'll make sure of that at once." Less than five seconds later, she said, "Done!"

"Thank you, Anya!" said Vanessa, and we all echoed the thanks.

"Have a good day, guys," said Anya. "I have to return to the unpleasantness."

Just after we left, Xena asked nobody in particular, "Did she actually do anything?"

"I couldn't say," answered Vanessa. "However, she did the same thing when I asked to be able to speak my name, my sex, etc. And presto!"

Nevertheless, we spent the rest of the time until lunch treating each other gingerly, as if we were in a truce that could snap at any time. Tracy asked when our memberships would end, stating that her membership was lifetime.

Becky answered for both herself and me, "We got three-week memberships two weeks ago. They end next Saturday."

Carol followed up. "Mine was a summer membership. It also ends next Saturday, just before school begins." Faline said that hers was the same.

Vanessa said, "I have a two-month membership, which I got in the middle of July. So my membership ends in the middle of September."

Jen answered, "Mom got Xena and me five-year memberships."

Xena said, "Actually not. They're for less than two years. Both of ours end the week after school ends in two years. But we have the option for various time periods afterwards. The total is six years."

"Does Mom know about that?" asked Jen.

"I doubt it," answered Xena. "The pass said five years when we got it. It only later changed to that, once we were inside. I peeked at yours; it's the same."

"That's weird," said Becky.

"Yes, really strange indeed," answered Vanessa.

It was eventually time for lunch. We returned to the eating place near the entrance. I was going to join Aunt Yuko with Tracy and Becky, but then I saw Ruth with Vanessa's sister Helen and their mom. I didn't know whom to join, until they solved things by working a couple tables together, and we all joined each other. I sat across from Ruth.

"Hi Ruth." I was weirded out all over again, seeing this young girl and knowing she was my big brother Peter. A perverted recollection came. "So it seems that you won't be tossing me into a pond any time soon."

Ruth laughed. "I don't have anywhere near the strength, now. Heck, I no longer have the muscles of three or four years of Taekwondo, even though I still have the mind. I will practice, of course."

We both were at a loss for words until Ruth asked, "Should I call you Luke or Lucy?"

"Lucy, of course," I answered. I admit I tried to say `Luke', knowing how it would come out. I meant `Lucy' though. "The other name would sound really weird, especially as I can't say it."

"Sorry about that," said Vanessa. "I didn't think to ask Anya to unblock your speech."

Eventually, it was again time for me to leave for Saturday band practice. I dressed up in jeans, t-shirt, socks, and sneakers, and packed the rest of my stuff together. Aunt Yuko drove me to band practice.

We began learning marching the first time. The first thing we learned was that we stepped with our left foot on beat one.

They pushed us for two hours, and gave us a break with drinks including a small cup of Gatorade. I spotted Fab during the break, and with a shivery thrill, ran toward him. Partway there, I spotted June with him, and I doubled my pace, finally gloming on them both.

"Hey, June! Fab!"

"Well, that's a very nice greeting," stammered June. "But who are you?"

I froze, jaw-dropped, holding in as best I could an outburst of tears. I saw that Fab didn't recognize me either.

I ran off just as I let loose with the biggest cry of my life. I spent the rest of the break next to the stands, bawling my eyes out.

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

"DUDE!" SAID FAB. "You don't repel a hot girl who comes onto you!"

"I had no idea who she was," said June.

"Neither did I. Doesn't matter. Didn't you see her bawling her eyes out?"

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

I SOMEHOW GOT through the second half of band practice, and Aunt Yuko came to pick me up. I wanted to return to Bikini Beach. On the way I told Aunt Yuko what happened.

Aunt Yuko listen sympathetically, but at one point said, "I have no idea who Fab and June are, but..." She trailed off.

I couldn't help bawling anew, as I said, "They were wonderful guys. You met Fab last week, and drove us to June's house."

I barely heard her whisper, "Bikini Beach."

At Bikini Beach, I caught up with the girls. Vanessa and Faline were back from practice at Central High as well. We met at dinner. Ruth, Helen, and a couple other girls her age were there. Ruth managed to finagle a seat next to Carol, with one of the young girls on her other side.

"Tracy had one of those nightmares while we napped," Becky told us somberly.

"I never had nightmares at Bikini Beach before. Bikini Beach seemed almost like a sanctuary against the darkness. The dark monster even mocked me: `You think Bikini Beach protects you?' And I realized that, yes, I thought that Bikini Beach did protect me from the monster. `Not at all. I'm part of you. There's no escape.' In it appeared a faint shade of a girl -- but this time choking, panicking, my hands wringing her neck, my thumbs pressing hard. I've seen her before, different, dead but without my doing anything. Even when I'm awake, I feel darkness hidden behind something way in the back." Tracy sounded almost panicked.

I had no idea what to say. All I could do was listen. I felt guilty now. My own problem was nothing compared to Tracy's. I looked at Ruth, and she seemed sympathetic -- different from his reaction to her upon first seeing her.

"Lucy seems distressed as well," said Carol. Thank you, Carol.

"I'm sorry, it seems minor compared with Tracy's nightmare. I've had nightmares myself, and they're so unpleasant. Fab and June didn't recognize me!" Without warning, I went bawling all over again, burying my head under my arms on the table. I felt arms and hands all around me, giving me silent hugs. I also felt arms around my legs underneath the table. I guessed it must have been Ruth.

Someone -- I wasn't hearing straight -- said, "You never told us about hot dudes!"

I bawled anew, and heard another girl berating her.

I was finally cried out. I sat up and the food looked revolting. I was in no mood or state to eat. Was this what seasickness felt like? Probably not.

I sort-of heard Carol saying, "I think that Ruth and I are the only ones who remember the boys."

I also sort-of heard Ruth: "I think Bikini Beach did that when I came and they changed me."

I slowly ate, being taught to always clear my plate, and tuned out the talk around me. The food became edible.

"... shifts reality so that someone who died is still alive," Ruth was saying. She scrunched her nose.

"What the heck!" I slammed my milk down, spilling half of it.

"Yeah, that was my reaction. It's crazy," said Ruth, as I grabbed a huge napkin and cleaned up my mess. At least this brought me out of my funk. I was listening again, or at least semi-listening.

"Finally!" exclaimed Faline. "Some sense of craziness."

"I've heard it, too," said Vanessa. "I agree that it's crazy."

"Hear me out, seriously now," continued Faline. "Hear me out. The least crazy thing is some form of mind control. Which makes more sense? A few of us made to falsely remember Ruth as an older boy Peter? Or Peter changing to a little girl, and everyone else of us falsely remembering Ruth as always existing? Even if little girl Ruth does talk like one of us. That could be the mental influence as well."

This was beginning to sound like Mrs. Eddy's `Animal Magnetism, hypnotism, and so forth'.

"I really should stop coming here," Faline continued. "Even if it's too late for me."

"Sad as that is, we understand. Don't we, girls?" asked Vanessa pointedly. "We can even meet outside Bikini Beach."

Our first ballet performance would be less than a week from now, Friday evening. Tonight we had our first rehearsal at the Civic Center, where we would perform. I hadn't told Peter; I'd just assumed that he (she) would take me there when I had to go.

Now, I realized that Ruth was in the performance as well. She'd been taking ballet with me for the past three years. Ma had driven us to Bikini Beach, and she would shortly pick us up and drop us off at the Civic Center. What about Carol, Nancy, and Cindy? Apparently, Nancy drove them here.

I wondered what difference her driving, as opposed to her car being left in her garage, made in the world. That led to thinking of the absence of Peter, and the presence of Ruth -- how did things change? The boys, Fab and June, for one thing. They did hit on me last week Thursday, but I'd rebuffed them. I hadn't recognized June from TKD, because neither Ruth nor I were taking TKD.

Damn you, Bikini Beach!

Ma showed up, we went to ballet rehearsal, we all knew our dances (including Ruth), and everything that evening went as programmed by Bikini Beach. Ruth didn't seem to have any problem joining us in ballet, wearing a ballet leotard, tutu, and white tights. Come to think of it, she hadn't had any problem with her girls swimsuit. At least it was a one-piece swimsuit, and not a bikini.

        Sunday, August 17

When I woke up this morning, I was curious to know how Ruth would take to wearing a dress and having to attend Sunday School. I didn't know how to ask, so I decided I had to wait to find out.

I put on a bathrobe, used the bathroom, and went downstairs for breakfast. Ruth came down shortly after. She didn't seem to have any trouble with Ma and Pa seeing her, unlike my first day after changing. When we listened to the Mental Work, I noticed Ruth nodding where Great-Grandma talked about mental malpractice. Was she thinking of Bikini Beach? With all the forgetting going on, that had to be mental malpractice.

After breakfast, Ruth and I returned upstairs to our rooms to shower and change for Sunday School and Church. I remembered how I felt the first time I wore a dress for Church. And I imagined how Peter as Ruth would take it.

Surprisingly enough, she was out in the hallway, all ready to go in her nice simple knee-length dress -- just like mine except for color -- when I left my room. We both had our hair tied back the same way.

"You're not uncomfortable or scared wearing a dress like that, are you, Peter?" I called her Peter rather than Ruth, to emphasize why she might be.

"Shhh!" she replied, turning to look at the stairs. "If Ma or Pa hear you call me Peter, who knows what they'll think -- but it will sound strange."

"Oh sorry," I said, feeling chewed out, but imagining inadvertently calling her Peter at the wrong time. Bikini Beach wasn't blocking Ruth or me.

"It's okay. And no, I'm not uncomfortable in the least wearing this dress. It feels better than my suit, and after all, I am a little girl. I admit I dislike having to go to Sunday School and Church. Maybe I'll get myself expelled again. I might explain more, when we can't be overheard, why I'm fine in a dress, and why I was fine joining you in ballet last night."

When we arrived at Sunday School, Ruth's teacher greeted us. "Good morning, girls. You look great in your matching dresses and hairstyle. Just goes to prove there's only one Mind."

"Mrs. Vancourt," Ruth replied. "It only proves that Ma gets the same kind of simple dresses for both of us." I thought about the miniskirted dress-suits hidden in my closet, including the one I wore to Mr. Matsumoto's aborted lunch. Then there was the contraband bikini, which I remembered Ma encouraging me to take to Bikini Beach that first day, but which I also remembered being created at Bikini Beach when I became Lucy.

Before at Sunday School, I didn't pay attention to the other classes. However, now with Ruth accompanying me, I glanced off and on at her class. One girl looked unhealthy. In fact, when she had to stand, others had to support her. I recalled that she was living with a middle-aged grandfather, and I recalled him giving a testimony about taking her off medicine in favor of radical reliance on Christian Science.

I felt I ought to do something, but I had no idea what.

It turns out that Ruth felt the same way about the girl, and was under no such limitation. When Sunday School let out, Ruth dragged me outside to a nice rock next to the side of the building.

Ruth got to the point. "Beth is dying. We've got to do something."

"What can we do? Isn't her grandpa doing anything?"

"Yes. Putting their trust in Christian Science. Possibly working for her, possibly having Mrs. P-- work for her. It's not working. I tried something a few weeks ago, but Grandmother and Bikini Beach wiped it away. I don't know how successful it would have been."

"Ruth, what are you talking about? What does Bikini Beach have to do with this? As Peter, you haven't been to Sunday School or church in months. What do you know about Bikini Beach anyway?"

"I'll tell you later, when we're alone together for a longer time. Lucy, I need your support. You won't have to say anything, but I need you there to support me, and also as a witness. I'm going to confront Beth's grandpa. It probably won't work, and Ma will probably take me home, leaving you and Pa at church. You must tell Pa about this.

"I have Beth's home address from the church registration, and I will try to send her parents a letter. Unfortunately, they're on a cruise around the world -- that's why she's spending the summer here -- and the letter probably won't reach them. Pa may be able to contact the cruise line, or Bikini Beach's Grandmother might be able to do something."

"Let's do it," I said, relieved to do something.

Beth's grandpa arrived shortly, and we met him as he got out of his car.

"Sir," said Ruth.

"Yes?" he answered. "Sorry, I don't know your names."

"I am Ruth Cuttington, Beth's classmate in Sunday School, and this is my big sister Lucy. Beth is seriously ill. She's been getting worse these past weeks. In fact, she's dying."

"The practitioner is hard at work on Beth's case," replied Beth's grandpa. "And we have been reading and studying `Science and Health' and the Bible. Beth is in God's hands."

"Mr. Rochester, you testified in church that you took Beth off medicine early this summer. Now either verify that Christian Science healing is working, or put her back on the medicine. Better yet, take her to the emergency room of the nearest hospital."

"Little girl," said Grandpa. "It's only Material Sense that tells you that Beth is getting worse. Deny it. Materia Medica theories have no basis in reality."

"Sir, it's only Material Sense that tells you that I'm just a little girl," said Ruth. "It's only Material Sense that tells you that I'm asking you to do the right thing about Beth. It's only Material Sense that tells you that you are here at church, and it's only Material Sense that will tell you where Beth is.

"I'll go further. No Christian Scientist dismisses his material senses when driving a car. Now either verify that Christian Science is working with Beth, or get her to a hospital."

Just then, Ma spoke. I hadn't noticed her approach. "Ruth, you know you are not supposed to question or challenge your elders. You were unbelievably rude just now."

"Ma, this is deadly serious. Beth is dying," said Ruth.

"Mrs. Cuttington," said Grandpa. "Ruth's presence in Sunday School, and her preoccupation over Beth's sickness, may be what's holding back Beth's improvement. I ask that she be kept from Sunday School until Beth's healing is fully accomplished."

"That is a good idea. Ruth has to be punished for her rudeness to you. Let's go, Ruth. We're going home." Ma took Ruth by the hand and returned to her car. I followed, hoping to go home as well. Unfortunately, Ma said, "No, Lucy. You stay and attend church. I won't ask you to pray for Beth, as it's wrong to pray for someone specifically without her request. But pray that Ruth see the light and understand the Truth of Christian Science."

"Okay," I lied. I was fuming at Ma and Mr. Rochester.

Ma didn't return. It was just Pa and me at church today. I spent most of the time fuming about Ma and Mr. Rochester, and worrying abut Beth. I even shifted and clenched my fists a few times. Once, my shifting about awakened Pa from a doze -- that was a surprising revelation.

After Church, since Ma had the car, we decided to walk home. I would have suggested taking the bus, if I had my bus-card, but unfortunately it was at home. While we walked, I told Pa about Beth's illness and Ruth's pleading with Beth's Grandpa.

"So that was why Ma took Ruth home so abruptly," said Pa. "I'm of two minds. On the one hand, focusing on the material aspect can obstruct a healing. On the other hand, the spirit of Christian Science is Love and Compassion, concern for the unfortunate. Ruth was demonstrating those qualities for Beth. And accusing a nine-year-old girl of mental malpractice -- that's almost malicious in itself. Mrs. P-- said that girls her age are too young to learn about mental malpractice."

I almost told him that Ruth was really 17-year-old Peter, but stopped just in time. Pa didn't remember Peter. Instead, I said, "Ruth will try to get a message to Beth's parents. She said that they were on a round-the-world cruise, and may not be reachable. That's why Beth's spending the summer with her grandpa." I didn't mention Ruth contacting Bikini Beach's Grandmother, as Pa didn't know anything about Bikini Beach, except that he hated the immodesty in girls that they represented.

At home, Ma had readied Sunday Dinner. Ruth didn't eat with us. As soon as we sat down to eat, Ma said, "I sent Ruth to her room. Dan, Ruth was naughty, no, very bad, this morning. She started out by accosting and challenging Mr. Rochester. She was unbelievably rude to him."

"Was this about Mr. Rochester's granddaughter Beth?" asked Pa.

"Lucy told you about this?" asked Ma.

"Yes, I did," I said, looking Ma squarely in the eye. "I'm sorry, Ma, but I support Ruth in this." I managed to sound firm, and held her stare. "Beth looks very unhealthy. I agree with Ruth; she may be dying."

"Ruth's words were practically a sarcastic attack on Christian Science," said Ma. "As well as being rude and disrespectful to Mr. Rochester. I was going to spank her when we got home, but once we got home, she wouldn't let me. Not only that, she threatened me with kicks and punches -- I hadn't been so frightened in years."

"Those were only demonstration," said Ruth in a slow, low, dangerous tone, reminding me of Peter. She had apparently been listening in on us. She'd changed out of her Sunday dress into tee-shirt and shorts -- short-shorts like the ones that reviled Pa against me. She continued in a more normal tone, "I made sure I was far enough away not to touch Ma, even accidentally. Let's get two things clear. I'm never going to let anyone spank me, and while boys are often conditioned not to hit girls, we girls live under no such constraint."

I said, "I wish I'd done that with you Pa, that time a week ago. Sure, you're a lot stronger than Ma, and Ruth is far better at martial arts than me. But at the least I would have come out with self-respect."

Apparently, not only had Fab and June been reality-shifted out of my life, Thursday's spanking had been reality-shifted into something purely painful. I'd escaped and fled to the Matsumoto's. What else would change? Would my tampons and condoms disappear?

"Lucy," began Ma firmly. "You seem to know about Ruth and martial arts. Would you care to explain?"

"It's really quite simple," I said. "I'm taking Ruth's side about Beth, and I'm taking her side about spanking."

"Young lady--" began Ma.

"Ruth's `sarcastic attack on Christian Science' is something I wish I'd thought of. Spanking is very much an appeal to Material Sense."

Ma and Pa stood frozen at my words. Then Pa said, "I'm afraid I have to agree with that last statement."

"I'd like to tell all of you a story," said Ruth. "It may be truth, it may be fiction. A girl my age tried to expose an evil. Her mother tried to spank her for saying bad things about the evil, but she wouldn't let her. So when they got home, her mother took it to her father. Her father grabbed her, carried her to the bathroom, snatched a hairbrush, sat on the toilet, put her over his knees, pulled her pants and panties down, and slammed her bare bottom with the hairbrush, bristle-side down. Of course, she screamed in agony. Her dad stopped after three or four hairbrushings, and let her go.

"A painful but quick punishment and that's it? Not in your life. You see, that girl had a certain talent in both martial arts and ballet, and a mind willing and eager to use them; a resentful mind, obsessed over past experiences of spanking -- in short, the mind of an older teenage boy.

"First, the girl ran and kicked her father at the top of the stairs, right behind the knees. He stumbled downstairs. Then the little girl ran and leaped down onto her father, and rammed her heel into his side just as she landed."

"Grandpa Cuttington always talked about getting it over with, when he spanked me," said Pa. "Anything like that would certainly have prolonged things."

"And I imagine responding, `No, Schmuckhead. It's just begun,'" said Ruth. "I'd probably use a stronger profanity, followed by a jab to the eyes and a karate-chop to the neck. Just don't spank me. Don't try to spank me. Don't punish me even. I'm not going to be a good little girl as long as Beth's life is in danger.

"When you sent me to my room, Ma, I wrote a letter to Beth's parents. Now I'm going to stamp this letter and deposit it in a mailbox." She held up the letter, that I only noticed just then. "Ma, even you wouldn't want to keep her parents ignorant of her situation here." She turned to the living room, and disappeared from view, only to briefly reappear and exit the front door.

After a pregnant pause, Ma said, "Well. Dinner's cooled down. We'll have to warm it up again." She took our plates and dishes, starting with mine, and put them in the microwave oven. At the same time, she reheated the chicken and the vegetables in their pots and pans.

"Let's start eating before things cool down again," said Ma.

As we ate, Pa said, "This is quite revealing, how out of touch I've been with our kids. I had no idea that Ruth could think or say such things."

I hoped I wouldn't be called upon to explain. There was no way I could tell the truth without sounding crazy, even if Bikini Beach's spell let me.

"I've never been out of touch with them. Ruth never talked like that before," said Ma. "I haven't the foggiest. Come to think of it, you've changed the past couple of weeks, Lucy. But what you said just now was also unprecedented.

"Dealing with a dying girl is unprecedented for us, Ma."

"Beth was in Ruth's class most of the summer. Beth's situation was apparent to both of you for some time."

Oops, I was in a bind now. How could I answer without lying? I couldn't tell the truth, of course. I stammered, "Ruth acted. I didn't pay attention to their class, and only occasionally noticed Beth's trouble. I didn't know she was in such danger!" Embarrassing as it was, I couldn't help crying. "I'm so sorry about that."

Pa said, "I don't think we have good enough reason to ask why Ruth acted now, and not before. Sometimes it's a question of courage. Sometimes it's something gradual, so that one doesn't notice it until one suddenly notices how bad it is."

Ruth returned just as we began eating again, out of breath from having run.

"It took you a rather long time to mail a letter, don't you think?" said Pa.

"I ran a couple blocks to the roadside mailbox," said Ruth, "just to make sure. Only the mailman can remove the mail."

Ma flopped down on a chair, tears forming in her eyes. "That Ruth would even think I would..."

Ruth said, "Okay, about lunch. Do I get to join you, or am I personna non grata?"

"Go ahead and join us," said Ma. "I won't even make you change back into a dress -- just this time."

"Thank you, Ma. I appreciate that."

Nothing more was mentioned about Beth. I only hoped that Ruth's letter got to her parents in time. Ruth mentioned going over to Daisy's house, and I said that I'd join her and go as well.

As we walked down the few houses to Daisy's house, Ruth said, "I wonder what Daisy will remember of me. She was developing a certain resistance to Bikini Beach's reality shifts, and was picking things out of our minds."

"How would you know that, Ruth? You didn't even know about Bikini Beach until the night before last. I even messed with your mind about its changes at dinner with Carol."

"I'd forgotten," answered Ruth. "Thanks to Bikini Beach. It all came back yesterday, again thanks to Bikini Beach. But let's wait until we've met Daisy and see what she remembers."

We rang their bell. Mr. Matsumoto opened it shortly. "Hello Ruth, Lucy. Please come in." As we entered, Mr. Matsumoto called out, "Daisy, it's Ruth and Lucy."

Thumping sounded on the stairs from the basement, and Daisy rushed to hug both of us. "Hi Ruth, hi Lucy! Please come on downstairs." She was shaking.

"Hi, Mrs. Matsumoto," said Ruth as we passed her sitting on an armchair, reading a book. I echoed the greeting.

Downstairs, Daisy dashed to the nearest computer. I couldn't tell what she did, but shortly a pop tune came ringing out of its speakers. She turned back to us and glomed onto Ruth. "Ruth, you're back! I thought you were lost forever!"

"Lucy," said Mr. Matsumoto from the staircase. "Do you have any idea what Daisy meant just now?"

Mr. Matsumoto had taken that bad boy to Bikini Beach that time we visited his office, so he might actually know something about it. I answered, "We went to Bikini Beach yesterday."

"Right, that might very well explain it," he replied. "With Bikini Beach, we can never tell what's real and what isn't."

I didn't know whether he was being sarcastic or serious, so I asked, "You visited Bikini Beach yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes. It was an experience utterly out of this world. Really embarrassing, but we had a very fun afternoon."

"Daddy's not telling you. Something really horrified him, and made him angry," said Daisy. "Something was different, I just can't remember. Daddy turned into a very pretty big sister. You would have loved to meet Glinda, Peter, Ruth."

"Thanks a lot, Daisy," said Mr. Matsumoto. "You really know how to embarrass your Dad."

"Congratulations, Mr. Matsumoto," said Ruth. "You've joined the elite club of those of us who've been transformed by Bikini Beach from boys and men into girls and women."

"Okay, Ruth," said Mr. Matsumoto. "Before I ask, I want to try and figure this one out myself. Even though you and Daisy play with each other practically every day, and often sleep over with each other, Daisy suddenly greets you as a long-lost friend. Then Daisy calls you `Peter', before correcting to `Ruth'. This Peter would have to be a young man, whom I've no doubt forgotten. Finally, Ruth, you went to Bikini Beach yesterday, you spoke like a teenage snarker, and virtually state outright that you are in that elite club yourself.

"Therefore, I guess that you are Peter, an older teenager, and changed into Ruth just yesterday -- despite my memories, which I know can't be trusted when Bikini Beach is involved. AND," he continued just as Ruth was about to say something, "you've been Ruth before."

"Bull's-eye, Mr. Matsumoto," said Ruth.

"Peter's seventeen," added Daisy.

"And just to be clear, I am Peter Cuttington in the same family," said Ruth. "Lucy's older brother. I often babysat Daisy when you and Mrs. Matsumoto went out, just in case you're wondering why Daisy was involved with a seventeen-year-old boy."

"And Lucy is Luke, Peter's kid brother," added Daisy, apparently deciding to pull me in. "He, she, both, babysat me the past few weeks. With Peter and Luke and Lucy as babysitters, I'm going to be very sad when I'm too old for babysitting."

"Peter'll be in college, but we'll still be friends, won't we?" I said.

"Yes." Daisy came and hugged me. "Best Friends Forever, right?"

"Right!" We squeezed each other. I continued, "I think I'm supposed to change back to Lucy, um, the other L-name, you know, what you said--"

Mr. Matsumoto burst out in loud laughter. "Yes, that's definitely Bikini Beach."

"Um, next Saturday," I finished lamely. "So does that leave Daisy and Mrs. Matsumoto as the only non-members of that elite club around here?" I couldn't help wondering about an elite club that everyone seems to have joined.

"No," said Ruth and Daisy simultaneously.

"Daisy, you're not...?" I drifted off, suddenly apprehensive.

"No, Mom is," said Daisy.

"That's true," said Mr. Matsumoto. "I told Daisy that Wednesday. But how did you know, Ruth? We never told you."

"You did, but you forgot," said Ruth. "But one thing I don't understand. Why did Bikini Beach turn your friend Alan into the loveliest, prettiest woman ever?"

"Only Grandmother knows," replied Mr. Matsumoto. "And I assure you, she's so much more than a mere hot young lady. And I have my own question. How are you able to say, `Peter'?"

"It's a long story. A very long story, that you've forgotten. You forgetting that you told me Alan's story is part of that very long story. It's covered in our first story, `A Bikini Beach Summer'. May I use your phone? I want to call Grandmother, and I don't want Ma or Pa to know."

"Bikini Beach's Grandmother?"

"Yeah. It's about a sick girl in my Sunday School class, and Grandmother undid my attempt to get the message to her parents. It's part of that story."

"Certainly."

We went back upstairs, and watched as Ruth called. I heard the other end answer with, "Hello, Bikini Beach, how may I help you?"

"Hello, may I speak with Grandmother?" After a moment's pause, she continued, "Anya will be fine. I'm Ruth... There's another loose end, my Sunday-School classmate... She's sick; my first attempt to help her was destroyed... She's dying now..." After a pause, "Of course, I'll try tomorrow. Thank you, Anya."

Ruth ruffled through the telephone book, and wrote a number and phrase down: I bent over and read, "Child Services." "Anya suggested I call them."

"So they're not going to do anything about it?" I asked.

"She said they might not be able to. In any case, calling Child Services is another thing to try. We should exhaust all possibilities. Any other ideas?"

"You have her home address?" I asked. "School begins next week. Maybe her parents' cruise is over and they're home now. Suppose we looked their phone numbers up, and tried calling them."

"We'd have to go to the library to get the New York City phone book."

"You could try the computers downstairs," said Mr. Matsumoto.

"Of course, we won't tell your Pa and Ma that we let you and Lucy use our computers," said Daisy, giggling.

Needless to say, Ruth found the telephone number, but her attempt at calling them failed.

        Monday, August 18

The next morning, when I got up and went to practice the piano, I spotted Ruth on the phone. She angrily slammed it down, then dialed another number.

"Hello, Grandmother. I'm calling about my sick classmate Beth. I called Child Services as Anya suggested, and reached an obstructive bureaucrat. She was contemptuous of me as a child complaining, telling me to let the adults take care of things. But she also said they couldn't do anything when the guardian relies upon religious treatment."

"I see the irony in this," replied Grandmother.

"What? Irony? Grandmother, please. This is deadly serious."

"Oh, I agree," said Grandmother. "The irony is that you tried to get the adults to do something, only to be told to let the adults take care of things. You've done what you can, so we'll act."

"Thank you very much, Grandmother." After a little further discussion, Ruth said her good-byes and hung up the phone. "At least Grandmother's going to do something, and it should succeed. I'm concerned about side effects, though."

Beth's story is told in the side story, "Grandpa Takes Beth to Bikini Beach". It shall not be repeated here.