A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 1

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.

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

Saturday, June 21
A Day at Bikini Beach

Was it my imagination or did I actually see a tint of pink in the diffusing shower mist? I forgot about it, jumping at the shriek of my little sister Ruth, in the next shower over. "What the HELL is going on?!"

"What happened? You okay, Ruth?" I said, worried. Good thing Ma wasn't around. Whatever happened, one must never curse. If either of us cursed, Ma punished us hard.

"It happened to you, too?" Ruth calmed down somewhat.

"Um," I was puzzled. The only thing strange was that she'd forgotten her bikini top. Oh, and that we were both in bikinis. Pa would really jump on us if he found out. But Ma had suggested we bring our bikinis, when she told us we were going to Bikini Beach. Pa didn't know we were coming here, I'm sure.

But forgetting her bikini top wouldn't make her scream and curse like that, would it? Definitely not curse, and definitely not wonder what was going on. "Um, what happened?"

"Look in the mirror!"

I looked over at the mirror, wondering what Ruth was talking about. I admit I looked attractive, and boys would surely find me hot -- especially the naughty way I was exposing myself in a sky-blue bikini, wearing nothing else but matching flip-flops and plastic beads around my left ankle. I really shouldn't have brought my bikini, and the beads didn't help either. Now, I had to go out into the world practically naked. Pa...

I brushed hair out of my eyes as I turned back to Ruth. "Well, I really shouldn't be wearing this bikini. Pa will be furious at me especially. Not so much you, although forgetting your bikini top like that, Ruth..."

"Stop doing that to me, Lucy! Please! And why did I just call you Lucy?! Why did you call me Ruth? I'm Ruth. No, I'm Ruth. No, no, NO!" Her voice degenerated into gargling. She made a bizarre image, stomping in anger in only her red bikini bottom and red flip-flops.

I knelt down in front of her. "You didn't hit your head or something, did you?"

"No, I didn't hit my head! Stop doing that to me!"

The door to the shower room opened, and Ma entered. Unlike us, Ma was in a solid navy-blue one-piece swimsuit. She was carrying Ruth's missing red bikini top. "Ma, something's wrong with Ruth! She's all upset." I was glad Ma hadn't heard Ruth curse. That had caught me by surprise, and I'm sure Ma would have killed Ruth.

"Lucy, I'll take care of Ruth. She'll be fine, I'm sure." She was putting Ruth's top on her, although why she didn't let Ruth put it on herself, I had no idea. "Go out and explore the park in the meanwhile. Have fun. Meet us at the office in about an hour."

Relieved that Ma was there to take care of Ruth, I walked out to my first real view of Bikini Beach.

So this was Bikini Beach. This must have been the biggest water park in the world! And so near my hometown as well. Why had I never heard of it until this morning, when Ma announced we were coming here? The name seemed peculiar too: why "Bikini Beach," rather than "Bikini Water Park"?

I followed one of the paths, passing a couple pools where women and girls were swimming and sunbathing. I reached a place with a big sign saying, "Princess Playland." It looked like a place for four-and-five-year-old kids – probably not for me.

Somewhat farther was the "Junior Lifeguard Academy." I wondered what that was about. It was a very long pool, with not only room to swim, but also a couple slides and various challenges. I tried the "Safety Scramble" once -- didn't even make it a quarter of the way across.

I didn't attempt it again, not just because of how hard it was, but because I noticed that everyone seemed to be younger than me. The average age looked about nine, my sister's age, and I felt rather out of place.

I did notice a few girls around my age at the far end of the pool, among many trying to climb a mountain-side to reach the top. I decided to try it myself.

The wall turned out to be not only steep but more than vertical. It actually faced down a bit. Of course, it had to do that so that if we fell, we fell cleanly into the pool rather than scraping and bouncing ourselves along the wall.

I jumped into the water and tried it. I couldn't get even a foot up, and I wondered how the heck those other girls were making it even halfway up. Then one of the girls swam over, a pretty Asian girl, at least half a foot taller than me, in a bright neon-orange bikini.

"Hey! You new here? Never tried these before?" she greeted me, treading water.

"Nope, never. It's my first time here at Bikini Beach."

"Well, you're in for quite a treat. There's no other park anywhere quite like this one. A little hint: always keep three hands and feet securely on the wall. Only move one at a time. I call it the Rule of Three. Follow that rule, and you can climb almost anywhere."

"Thanks!" I smiled at her.

"Any time. I'm Carol."

"Lucy." I stuck out my hand, which she took and gave a good firm shake, disrupting my water-treading. I had to scramble to get my head back above the water.

"Sorry about that, Lucy," said Carol.

I never managed to get more than a little bit up the wall before falling. It seemed that my hands or feet were getting tired, but I noticed that every time I fell, I'd violated the Rule of Three.

But I had lots of fun, and I got to know her friends as well. There were four who met almost every other day at Bikini Beach. In addition to Carol Hsu, there was red-headed Alice Candy who was a bit shorter than me and covered with freckles. She wore an orange one-piece suit that matched her freckles. Another was a tall black girl, Vanessa King, who seemed a little older than the rest, gorgeous in a white bikini, and bubbly stout Becky Miura who was cheerful and excited about everything.

I noticed Ma and Ruth at the other end of the pool. "Oh, no!" I exclaimed to my new friends. "I was supposed to meet Ma and Ruth after an hour. I must have lost track of time! I'm going to be in trouble. They're here now!"

"We'll go support you," said Vanessa.

We swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out. "Ma!" I called out. "Ma, Ruth!"

They turned around. Ma said something to Ruth, Ruth jumped into the water, and Ma walked fast toward us. "No running near the pool!" I'd heard the lifeguard shouting that often enough.

"Sorry, Ma. I must have lost track of time."

"No problem, Lucy. It's still early. Someone recommended the Junior Lifeguard Academy for Ruth, and we came to check it out. I was going to go back to the office to meet you, but it's not necessary now. I see you made new friends here. You must introduce them."

"Everyone," I told the girls. "This is Ma--"

"Ma, as in the Little House books?" asked one of the Asian girls, not Carol but the other one, who had a tendency to giggle.

I sighed. "Yes, like them. We get that a lot. Okay, this is Carol, the first girl I met in the group. And she is Vanessa King."

"Pleased to meet you, Ma'am," said Vanessa.

"And this is Alice Candy," I continued. "And, and, and..." Oh shoot! I couldn't for the life of me remember the fourth one's name, the name of the one who'd brought up the Little House books, the other Asian-American.

She giggled. "I'm Becky."

"Oh, right. Becky. Sorry about that." Becky giggled some more, joined by the other three girls.

"It's great to see you've made new friends already," Ma said to me. "It seems that parents are neither needed nor particularly wanted here, but they appear to have good supervision. So I'll just go look around, and enjoy myself. I'll be back in a couple hours to pick up Ruth. If you're not here, let's meet near the main entrance for lunch at noon."

"Sure, Ma." I said.

I was about to turn back to my friends, when Ma slipped out a tube of sunscreen. "You're already beginning to turn pink, Lucy, and the day's only barely begun. Turn around." She started with a huge glob of goo just under the back of my neck. "Ssssssttt!" Oooo, that was cold. I couldn't help clenching up hard. All business-like, she rubbed it over my sides, neck, and back -- even a little under my bikini bottoms. It was embarrassing in public in full view of not only numerous strangers -- even if they were all women and girls -- but especially my new friends. "Do your front and legs yourself, Lucy. Don't forget your nose and ears." She handed me the sunscreen.

"Your Ma has a point, Lucy," said Vanessa. "You're rather pale, and damage has already begun when pink appears. But it'll only get worse unless you promptly apply sunscreen." So I had to smother myself in sunscreen. It felt irritatingly slimy. The tube was empty by the time I finished, and Ma had already departed.

"Say, let's show Lucy the South Seas Adventure," said Alice. "The rides there are simply awesome."

"Awesome! Awesome! Awesome! Awesome!" echoed Becky, jumping up and down, her hair flying all over – until, "Yikes!" One foot landed on the edge of the pool and slipped into the pool. Her bottom landed on the edge, and she rolled into the pool, disappearing under water.

"Becky! Becky!" called out Vanessa, Alice, and Carol, as I stood frozen, not knowing what to do.

Becky surfaced, and scrambled back out of the pool.

"Are you okay?" asked Vanessa.

"Yeah, I'm fine. But my, was that a pain in the ass," said Becky. "Let's get outta here before that lifeguard chews us out."

We all walked with pretended nonchalance to the nearest trail leading away from the pool. I followed them, as they followed various trails -- I was lost by then, but at least they knew their way around. We eventually reached the entrance to a region, with a huge overhanging sign, "South Seas Adventure."

To the right, the ground rose gradually. Off in the distance, the hill or miniature mountain was topped off with a miniature volcano! That's right, this water park had an entire volcanic mountain within its bounds. It was artificial, no doubt.

"The best things, the Pipeline and the Tropical Waves, are at the farthest end," said Carol.

"The Pipeline begins near the top of that volcano up there," added Alice.

"Interested in a small hike and scramble?" asked Vanessa. "This path goes up the mountain, and follows it. It passes the tops of most of the slides, and goes up the volcano a little."

"Sure, I guess," I said.

"Let's swim in the Lagoon before we go on that hike up the mountain," said Carol. The Lagoon turned out to be over at the right, a circular pool of water about the size of a football field -- surrounded by sandy beach and strange, but very pretty, foliage. Statues decorated the area throughout, shooting water up and keeping everyone in a continuous spray of mist. Many girls and women were swimming and sunbathing on the sand.

Before I knew it, Becky and Alice were both racing toward the water. "Last one in's a rotten egg!" shouted Becky, as she splashed into the water.

The rest of us ran to follow them, as Carol shouted out, "First one has to eat it!" I'd never heard that one before.

The water in the Lagoon was a little cooler than in that other pool, but still nice and comfortable. We rough-housed, and I only occasionally noticed that the talk of hiking up to the volcano had apparently been forgotten. Carol came up behind me and splashed me with water. I shrieked and turned toward her -- just as Becky grabbed my bikini bottom and yanked it down.

"Girls, girls, girls, let's keep it wholesome!" shouted Vanessa. "None of that, now."

"Spoil sport," shouted Becky.

I crouched down and struggled to slide my bikini bottom back up, while keeping my bottom hidden underwater. You're in trouble now, Becky, I thought to myself. I ducked underwater, and slithered around to Becky's side, then leaped up with a roar. She shrieked and fell over into the water as I laughed. This WAS great fun.

Vanessa called out, "Dears, hug and make up now!" We had another group hug. I was coming to think that the group hugs were one of the best parts of this experience. Even if our hair was all soaking wet, and getting all over us.

After some more roughhousing, Alice said, "I'm bushed, guys. I'm getting out for a while."

I looked at a clock in the distance. It was now about ll:45. "I have to meet Ma at noon back at the entrance. I'll probably be late! I'm afraid I'll get lost, too."

"There are signs directing you to anywhere you want to go," said Vanessa.

"I'll go with Lucy, make sure she doesn't get lost," said Carol.

"Let's all go with her," said Becky. "We should have lunch anyway."

"Great idea!" said Vanessa.

So they all went with me back to the entrance to meet Ma again. We arrived about three minutes early. Ma was there waiting with Ruth.

"Ma," I called out, getting both her and Ruth's attention. Ruth seemed grumpy again. I didn't know why, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

"You got here!" said Ma. "And your new friends came with you."

"I was afraid I might get lost coming back here. So they came with me."

"That was very nice of them. Ruth, meet Lucy's new friends."

"That's my little sister, Ruth," I told them.

"I hope I can remember your names," said Ma to my friends. "Vanessa, I definitely remember," she said to Vanessa, who smiled and nodded. "Carol?" she nodded at Carol, who nodded back. "Allie?" she said to Alice.

"Close. Alice," she replied.

"And Betsy, right?"

"Could have been, Mrs. -- Um, I didn't get your last name?" said Becky.

"Cuttington," answered Ma.

"Could have been Betsy, Mrs. Cuttington. But it's actually Becky."

"Becky's often silly," said Alice.

We found the eating place. Vanessa led us over to her mom and little sister, and was apparently about to introduce her, when Ruth said, "Hi, Mrs. King. Helen, this is Lucy, my older sister, and this is Ma."

"Just like `Little House on the Prairie' then?" giggled Helen as I shook her hand.

"We get that a lot," answered Ruth with her own giggle.

"I'm pleased to meet you," Mrs. King said to me as we shook hands. "I see you already met Vanessa."

My new friends all went to their own families and friends for lunch. "We'll get back together, no question," said Vanessa to me. "Don't you get lost on us, you hear?"

Ma, Ruth, and I got into line. "Look at the prices!" Ruth exclaimed.

Ma said, "The prices are always exorbitant like this at theme parks. This is standard. We deal with it." She bought us a good-sized filling meal.

Ruth was shifting in her chair, squeezing her legs together. A couple times, she slid a hand below the table. Seeing her do that made me distinctly uncomfortable, and I did my best to ignore her, but at one point Ma scolded her. "Keep your hands away from there, Ruth, and stop squirming."

"Ma, you have no idea how utterly creepy this feels," said Ruth.

"Ruth, that's Error whispering in your ear. Just reject it, and don't even think about it. It didn't bother you when you were playing and having fun with the other kids, right?"

"No, but--"

"So don't think about it. That's all it is, Error, mortal mind. It never really exists." This was straight Christian Science, something we all forgot too often to practice. "Or maybe you'd care to visit a gynecologist?"

"No!" Ruth shrieked, turning as red as her bikini. The conversation around us softened momentarily, as people turned to look at us. I flamed silently in embarrassment. I'd heard talk of gynecologists in the locker rooms at school, and they were mentioned in a girls-only meeting of health class. I was always thankful that we were Christian Scientists and didn't have to deal with such icky, embarrassing, and obscene things.

I never thought Ma would ever mention such a thing. And how ever did Ruth even know about such things at nine? I certainly didn't.

After lunch, Ma called for an hour of nap-time. "We mustn't be active after eating. It slows us down and stresses us." I was momentarily confused now. Wasn't that mortal belief? I put it aside, realizing I didn't sufficiently understand Christian Science.

We found a place of reclined pool chairs in a shady spot, and laid out our towels, and sat and lay back. I dozed off for a while, but was annoyingly awoken by Ma shaking me. "You're turning pink, Lucy. Let's get more sunscreen on."

I glanced over and saw Ruth gleaming with sunscreen. She wasn't nearly as colored as I was. I noticed that our nap spot wasn't shady any more. Again, I had to cover myself with sunscreen.

We decided to go walking around to see the sights. Going off in a random direction, we reached the "South Seas Adventures" again. We walked along the trail between the Lagoon to the right and the mountain to the left. We saw in the distance various water slides, raft rides, and inner tube rides coming down from the mountain and ending in various pools.

I first noticed a tall black girl in a white bikini off to the side among some girls around my age -- Vanessa! I recognized the other three with her; they were the four friends I'd made this morning!

Right at the same time, the redhead turned and saw me, and called out, "Hey Lucy!" All at once the four of them turned and ran to us. To my utter embarrassment with Ma and Ruth present, and with both of us practically naked, Vanessa caught me up in a bear-hug.

She greeted Ma and Ruth after letting me go, while the others proceeded to hug me.

"We're headed for the Pipeline," said Carol. "Wanna join us?"

I glanced over at Ma, who said, "Go ahead. Have fun with your friends. Meet us back at the office at 5:00."

"Great!" I went off with the other girls, barely hearing Ruth say, "I wanna go, too." I didn't hear Ma's reply.

"You're in for the ride of your life!" said Alice, as we continued along the walkway.

"Yes, yes, awesome! Awesome!" Becky jumped up and down.

We shortly reached a path leading to the left up the mountain. "If we follow this, we can walk along the top to the volcano, and arrive at the top of the Pipeline," said Vanessa. "Otherwise, we have to go to the far end of the park."

"We avoid the main line going up a rather steep climb," added Alice.

We turned onto the path, and I found myself climbing a rather steep scramble up the mountain.

After a while, when the path became shallower, I said, "You know, it's strange. I never even heard of Bikini Beach until this morning, when Ma announced that we were coming for the day. Why isn't this as famous as Disney World?"

"A good thing it isn't," answered Vanessa. "Otherwise this place would be utterly crowded."

"Yeah, so crowded nobody would come here," giggled Becky. We all laughed at that joke.

Carol said, "I read somewhere that Disney World used to use about four percent of all Kodak film produced."

Becky whistled. I managed to contain my amazement.

The path reached another, near the top of the mountain, walking along the ridge toward the volcano. We chatted as we walked, approaching the volcano and then walking along its side with the summit looming up the left, passing the starting points of a couple water slides on the right.

We reached the entrance to the Pipeline. A worker was here, keeping an eye on the line of girls, and ready to merge into the line persons like us who took the mountain trail. I looked at the ride itself, and almost panicked. The starting downward slide looked like a vertical drop of fifty feet, and the slide had two other steep drops as well.

There were three separate slides, so three of the girls went first. Carol stayed with me, waiting for the next turn. Stomach in my throat, feeling queasy, wondering what the heck I was doing here, I stepped slowly up to the launch point and sat down. I kept hesitating to take the last final step of pushing forward, but someone pushed me from behind.

I shrieked louder than I'd ever yelled before, as I suddenly dropped down the steep slide. I was jostled all over -- bumped to the left, bumped to the right, dropped suddenly, rinse-and-repeat. I was screaming and wailing, my stomach bouncing around my insides, out of synch with the rest of my body.

I finally splashed down floundering, limbs flailing, into a deep pool. Under water, I finally got control of myself and pushed myself up. My head broke the surface of the water, and I reached up and instinctively grabbed something fluttering down. I noticed to my mortification that that was my bikini top.

After floundering trying to tie it back on, I stuffed it in my mouth and swam to the side of the pool, climbing out with my breasts bared for all to see.

"Great catch!" applauded Becky, as I tied my bikini top back on.

Feeling properly covered now, I said, "I can't believe I lost it like that. It's so embarrassing!"

"Don't worry about it," said Alice. "It happens to the best of us, if they're so naive as to wear a bikini on this ride. We're casual about such things." Alice was wearing a one-piece suit, of course.

Becky added with a laugh, "Alice, in fact, lost both pieces a couple weeks ago, down the Otter's R-- yikes!" She shrieked and twisted wildly away at Alice's swat to her rear end. "That's why she only wears one-piece suits now. And that's how we know she's a true redhead," she added, well out of Alice's reach.

"I'll get you for that!" shouted Alice. Becky ran, but Vanessa grabbed Alice's shoulder before Alice could make chase.

"Girls, girls!" shouted Vanessa. "Time out, time out! Group hug everyone!" She pulled Alice into an embrace, while Carol went over and hugged Becky. Then they came back, and Alice and Becky hugged along with Carol and Vanessa.

I was feeling morosely out of it, when both Vanessa and Carol reached out and pulled me into their hug. I almost got sandwiched between them, being way shorter than both. Eventually, I wound up hugging all four of them, both individually and in groups.

Becky's comment about Alice being a "true redhead" led me to glance surreptitiously at their bottoms. Not a single bit of hair was visible. In compared with theirs, I seemed to have hair sprouting around my bikini bottoms. How did I get away with looking like that? Thank goodness none of the girls actually brought it up.

"Last week, someone managed to lose a one-piece swimsuit coming down this very ride," said Carol.

"How did she do that?" I asked.

"Beats the heck out of me. I don't think anyone figured that one out. The suit floated down after her completely intact."

"I wouldn't be surprised if she deliberately removed her swimsuit while sliding down," said Alice.

"I can't imagine how anyone could do such a thing on that ride," said Becky. "Or why, for that matter."

"Why? For the mystery -- a magic trick. Or just to be perverted," answered Alice. "How? Well, I suppose it's possible to concentrate on doing something even while bumping and bouncing around on that ride."

Having made up, we went on an inner tube ride. It was vastly more relaxing. As we climbed to the top, Carol warned me to be careful. "The first time I rode this, I got caught in a particular pool, going around in circles for about half an hour with other tubes passing me by, before finally making it over the edge."

How boring that must have been. It didn't happen to me, thank goodness.

"Hey, I'm tired," said Alice.

"It's about that time in the afternoon," added Vanessa.

"What time?" I asked dumbly.

"Nap-time," said Vanessa. "Push yourself trying to have fun, and you hate it. Sometimes, it's just best to relax and go with the flow."

I'd already rested an hour with Ma and Ruth. Still, I felt I should go along with what these girls wanted. We found a bunch of inclined outdoor chairs and claimed five of them. The girls chatted casually, while I listened and relaxed. At one point, Vanessa said, "Lucy, tell us a bit about yourself."

Normally, I didn't like being put on the spot, but Vanessa said it in such a nice way that I didn't mind. "Well,..." at that point I had no idea what to say. "My name is Lucy Cuttington. There's Ma and Pa--"

"Yeah, definitely `Little House on the Prairie'," injected Alice.

I glared at her. "Yeah, like them. Of course, you met my little sister, Ruth. She's nine, and I'm fourteen."

"What school do you attend?" asked Carol.

"Do you have to bring up such a depressing subject?" asked Becky.

"No-no, that's okay. I went to Madison Middle School, but I'm starting at Westside High this fall," I said.

"Me too," said Becky. "Actually, I (um) recognized you." She turned her face down, with an embarrassed expression. "You probably don't recognize me." I looked over at her, trying to remember. True enough, I didn't recognize her. I wasn't surprised. There were quite a few Asian American girls at school, and I was mostly a shy loner.

"I'm going to Westside High this fall, too," said Carol. "But I went to Adams Middle School."

"I was going to go there too, but now I'm not so sure," said Alice.

I looked over at her, and was stunned to see her about to cry. "What's the matter?"

Vanessa moved over and took Alice in her arms. "It's okay, darling, it's okay." Alice cried into Vanessa's bosom.

I looked down, feeling distressed and embarrassed. What was happening? Vanessa leaned her head down and murmured in Alice's ear.

"I'm okay now, I think," Alice said eventually. "But I'm having fun here when my cousin..."

"Bad things sometimes happen to good people," said Vanessa somberly. "Sometimes, when things overwhelm you, you simply must escape just a little while."

"Tracy -- that's my big brother," Becky nodded to me, "is starting college this fall at Pacific Tech."

"Ooooooo!" said Carol and Vanessa simultaneously. I'd heard of Pacific Tech, didn't know much about it. Well, it was a technical college, obviously.

Becky continued, "He tells me that they have a weekend called Decompression at the end of every quarter, just before finals. Full of entertainment, it's supposed to be quite a stress reliever."

"Bikini Beach is truly a unique place," said Carol. "There's no other place like it for getting off the razor-blade of life." The others erupted with "Ewwwww!" That was a rather gruesome metaphor. "At least temporarily. It's good to be away from the ogling eyes of boys -- especially if you lose your swimsuit in a ride."

Vanessa said, "Bikini Beach was founded on that premise, a purely girls' water park." Becky began giggling. "Grandmother -- everyone calls her that -- built it –" Vanessa glared at Becky out the corner of her eyes. "– as a retreat for girls and women away from men's lecherous gaze." Becky's giggling turned uncontrollable. "It's true, Becky! What's got into you?!" Becky was now in outright hysterics. "Hush, Becky! Stop it! Now!!" By now, Vanessa was sounding like stern mother.

Becky immediately clammed up. "Sorry," she said contritely.

Vanessa continued, "You can temporarily escape day-to-day problems, pull yourself away and see them from a more distant perspective."

"Pa wouldn't have liked it, if he'd known that Ma was taking us here," I said. "He hates it when girls exhibit their bodies like this." I remembered all too many rants about girls these days. The very name of this place would probably have triggered another rant. "In fact, I really shouldn't have worn this." I peered down at my nearly naked body. "I hope he doesn't find out."

"You look wonderful, dear," said Vanessa.

"Absolutely," agreed Becky. Did she leer, or was it my imagination? "Anyway, how will he find out if you don't tell him. You did bring clothes, I assume."

"Of course."

I eventually dozed off, lying about half-asleep.

One idea had been nagging me ever since the inner tube ride. Would I ever see my new friends again? I was feeling a bit down, and Vanessa must have noticed because she asked me, "What's wrong Lucy, dear? You seem a bit down."

I hesitated. "It's just... well, will I ever see you again? All of you?"

"We always meet here at Bikini Beach," said Alice.

"You mean, you come here every day?"

"No, not every day. We've kind-of settled on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays," said Carol.

"Don't worry, you'll find us," said Vanessa. "We always find each other."

"Hey now, what's with all this moroseness?" asked Becky. "We have attractions to conquer and pools to dive in. Let's go!"

We spent the rest of the afternoon swimming, rough-housing and sliding down slides. All too soon, it was time to return to the entrance to meet Ma and Ruth. We all hurried back to the office. We found Ma with a group of other parents, talking and watching a bunch of girls Ruth's age swimming and yelling and splashing about in a pool. Ruth was among them, and she promptly shouted, "Hey, there's Lucy!"

"Hello again," said Ma to the other girls. "I see you've spent all afternoon with them," she added to me. "It's great you made friends so quickly."

"Here, let's get your phone number," said Vanessa. I gave mine, and then the other girls gave me their numbers.

Carol said, "The park closes at 8:30 this evening. Can't you stay until then?"

"Yeah, Ma. Can't we?" I asked excitedly. A little bit of me cringed inside at how I was begging, but mostly I was excited at possibly being with my new friends an extra three hours.

"Okay," agreed Ma. "I'll have to find a phone and tell Pa we'll be home late."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Becky.

All of us -- Ma, Ruth, me, my other friends, other parents and siblings, and some of Ruth's crowd of eight- and nine-year-old girls -- had supper. Then I went with the girls and we had much fun chatting and swimming and riding as twilight developed. Of course, all too soon, the fun had to come to an end, and we had to separate and go our merry ways home.

We had another group hug, saying our goodbyes. "We meet Tuesdays and Thursdays here as well," said Vanessa. "I really hope you'll join us again."

Ma and Ruth were already changing when we returned to the changing room. It looked like Ma was talking sternly to Ruth, as she slipped her dress on over her head. Ruth, already in tee-shirt and shorts and putting on her sneakers, had turned grumpy again. "We'll meet you at the car, Lucy," said Ma. "Come along, Ruth."

I wondered what was going on here. Ruth was excited about Bikini Beach and playing with the other girls her age, and now she was grumpy and angry? I opened my locker and pulled out my dress and underwear.

My skin was rather red, with distinct white matching the shape of my bikini. I could already feel the tightness and mild stinging of the sunburn. When I pulled on my underwear, I couldn't help noticing that my panties covered at least twice the area of my bikini bottom, and my bra about one and a half times the area of my bikini top. I flushed in shame as I realized how practically naked I'd been outside all day.

At least Pa wasn't there to see me, and I hoped he'd never find out. Pa strongly disapproved of girls displaying themselves in bikinis -- and I'd done exactly that all day. I vowed to wear a proper one-piece suit next time I came here. Pa was grudgingly okay with those for swimming, even though he found those over-exposing as well.

My bra was rubbing over my sunburn, and it felt distinctly uncomfortable. I thought of removing it. Would anyone notice I wasn't wearing one? Maybe my white unburnt bikini skin might resemble a bra if people could see through. Come to think of it though, nipples would be a dead giveaway. I decided not to risk it.

Finally I was dressed up. I spotted Alice as I went out, and called out, "Hey Alice!" We left together. She went to a car waiting to pick her up, and I found our car in the middle of the parking lot.

As I approached the car, I saw and heard Ma and Ruth arguing angrily. Ma was saying, "Stop crying or I'll put you over my knee and give you something to cry about."

Ruth glanced at me as I approached, got in the back seat, and slammed the car door. What was going on? Was Ma being mean? Or was Ruth being bratty? I got in the other side and sat down next to Ruth, who sullenly ignored me. I decided it wouldn't be a good I idea to try to talk to her, so I just leaned against the car door and dozed off, the dry pain of my sunburn hovering in the background.

I woke up and dozed off every few seconds as we approached home, pretty much every time the car stopped or turned corners. It was quite annoying, and all I wanted was desperately to sleep.

"Lucy." Ma's voice woke me. "We're home now."

"Oh?" I yawned and slowly pulled myself up and awake. We were already in the garage, and Ruth was already out of the car and entering the house. I slipped my flip-flops back on and sleepily stepped out of the car and into the house.

I groggily greeted Pa and headed straight for my bedroom. I barely disrobed and slipped into my nightgown before flopping down onto my bed and conking out.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 2
Daily Routine

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, June 22

"Luke, rise and shine! Time to get up!" That was Pa calling me awake. It was Sunday morning, and that meant Sunday School and Church. I groaned and turned over, cringing at the agonizing pain and dryness covering my upper body. I'd burnt myself pretty badly at Bikini Beach yesterday.

I'd slept very well last night, only vaguely recalling awakening from some kind of dream about having to go -- really having to go badly -- really really badly -- and finding progressively more bizarre and more public places to try -- such as a floor-urinal on a grimy bathroom floor next to a long table in a banquet hall -- in my dream, I told myself that this time, I was fully awake and I'd really pee for sure. Ma was standing next to me, as I began to pee. Finally, I awoke in truth, stumbled out of bed, across the hallway into the bathroom, relieved myself, and returned to bed.

At least I hadn't wet my bed.

I glanced at the clock and found that it was already 8:30. How long had I slept?

It took me a good minute to slither out of bed. When I took off my pajamas, I noticed how dark pink my body was, except for my usual pale pink from my waist down to just above my knees, where my swimming trunks covered.

I slipped into a bathrobe to take my Sunday morning shower. As I crossed over to the bathroom, Ma handed me some lotion. "Use this for your sunburn, when you finish showering."

I didn't take too long in the shower. My sunburn was hurting above my waist. Warm water and cool water, both felt distinctly uncomfortable on my sunburn.

I dried off, and slimed Ma's goo over my sunburnt body. It made things feel a little better, although the sliminess itself was uncomfortable. I put the bathrobe back on, and stepped back into my room. I heard vague sounds through the wall of Ma and Ruth arguing. I didn't want to know anything about Ruth being disciplined; I tuned it out the best I could.

Sunburn aside, yesterday at Bikini Beach had been a most wonderful experience. The rides themselves were fun, but apart from those, a group of girls had taken me in and accepted me as one of their own almost immediately. I couldn't forget how bikini-clad Vanessa had hugged me in front of Ma and Ruth, to my major embarrassment. But all four of them were fun and exciting, and made everything at Bikini Beach all the more enjoyable.

After hesitating a few minutes, I put on my Sunday Suit. The sunburn lotion made my suit even more uncomfortable than usual. Always tight about my thighs and hips, the suit now felt cold and clammy as well.

I met Ruth and Ma in the hallway. Ma was saying to Ruth, "... proper dress for a church-going young girl."

"Yeah," I agreed. "You look great, kiddo." Indeed she did, in a plain bright-yellow knee-length dress with puffy short sleeves, white socks, and black shoes.

"Who are you calling Kiddo, Kiddo?" asked Ruth.

Ruth calling me Kiddo? That was a new one. "You may recall I am five years older than you and a foot taller," I said with a sniff.

Pa had cooked breakfast this morning: scrambled eggs and toast. Pa was the best at scrambling eggs, without question.

The four of us were sitting and eating at the breakfast table, and I was thinking about my day yesterday at Bikini Beach. How had I ever got caught up playing with four girls all day about my age? For the most part, they treated me as one of the girls. It was a cozy feeling how readily they hugged each other, and me as well. A couple things I remembered with considerable embarrassment -- introducing bikini-clad girls to Ma, being hugged in front of Ma, and a certain case where I'd reacted badly to a prank.

"Sit still, Ruth." Pa's admonition brought me out of my reverie.

"You have no idea how creepy this feels -- almost like an itch down there."

"Young lady, such topics are inappropriate at breakfast, and inappropriate in the presence of boys and men," said Ma.

I blushed furiously, and glanced over at Ruth blushing with equal ferocity. Her face was almost burning.

"Children, Erin," said Pa. "That is aggressive mental suggestion. Mrs. Eddy tells us that we must defend ourselves daily against aggressive mental suggestion." That admonition was one we heard every morning as part of the Mental Work.

"That reminds me," said Ma. She got up and retrieved the cassette player from the living room and turned it on to play the Mental Work. I spent the rest of breakfast in bored silence with the Mental Work sounding in the background.

Ma and Pa dropped us off at the church for Sunday School. They would return an hour later, and we would attend church services together as a family.

The first hymn was very familiar, by Mrs. Eddy herself: "Shepherd Show Me How to Go." I didn't even have to read it from the hymnal. When the Superintendent read this week's lesson-sermon subject, "Is the Universe, Including Man, Evolved by Atomic Force?" my silent reaction was the same as it had been every day this past week when we listened to the lesson on cassette -- "HUH?!?" During the week, I'd absently wondering what in heck these Bible verses had to do with atomic force. But as I absently recited the Golden Text and the Responsive Reading, I was preoccupied with the previous day's fun at Bikini Beach.

My Sunday School class had three of us students, sitting with the teacher around a small table. One was a boy about two years older than me. The other was a girl about one year younger than me. The teacher spoke out against "material intellectualism." It was important not to explain matter, but to deny matter as illusion of the material senses. "The sun gives you a nice tan, and supposedly supports life through plants. Yet too much sun can hurt and kill you! See how inconsistent and illogical matter is?" Only the good was real.

I couldn't identify anything specifically wrong with the teacher's argument, but somehow, it didn't sound quite right. I just couldn't articulate why.

"Material senses are but illusion," the teacher continued. "We look around, we see the world is flat. Our material senses do not tell us that the world is round." I imagined a ball 8000 miles across, and what it would look like to someone our size on the ball. It seemed to me it would automatically look flat. But I didn't know how to articulate it in class. "Human theories change all the time. Only God's Law is eternal, and therefore real." "Years ago, they thought that man was made from the dust of the ground. Now, human theories tell us that man comes from Atomic Force."

Overall, Sunday School was boring, and I was relieved when it was time to return to the front of the room for the second and final hymn and the Scientific Statement of Being: "There is no Life, Truth, Intelligence, or Substance in matter...."

Sunday School was over, a rather boring waste of an hour, that went on forever. I really should be more interested in learning about Christian Science, but I just couldn't. God would perhaps, in His own good time lead me to Him.

We had a little time to wait for Ma and Pa to arrive for Church services. I normally waited alone on one of the benches in the church hall, while Ruth chatted with other girls. But this time, Ruth joined me on the bench.

We sat in silence for a couple minutes. Then she said, "You know what Mrs. Vancourt said?" I looked at her. "She asked, `You know what supports the earth, keeps it in its path around the sun? It's not inertia.' I answered that inertia kept it going, and the sun exerted the gravitational force to pull it in a little, to keep it going around the sun instead of flying off." It was strange hearing Ruth talk like that. She continued, "The teacher then pointedly said that material theories are counterfeits of God's Law. `God is the only true Force, the only true Power.'"

I couldn't think of anything to say. I felt a bit angry at Ruth's teacher, since I liked astronomy -- frustrated, too because I felt like I couldn't think straight. It just sounded wrong. I also wondered at Ruth knowing this about the subject.

Ma and Pa showed up shortly. Apparently, Ma talked with Ruth's Sunday School teacher before joining us, because she called Ruth over. I overheard part of Ma's scolding of Ruth. "A child does not correct her elders." "You are here to learn about Christian Science, not debate your teachers." There was a lot more. I felt sorry for Ruth, and strangely bitter at Ma.

The service began shortly, with a hymn vaguely familiar. The First Reader then began his Scriptural Selection of readings from the Bible. Normally, I sat squirming in boredom, but now I let my mind wander over yesterday's events at Bikini Beach. Thinking about it, I was truly amazed -- how did I ever get involved with four bikini-clad (okay, only three of them bikini-clad) hot, very friendly, very nice girls, spending the good part of a day with them? How quickly they accepted me as one of their own.

I let my hymnal cover my crotch, opened to the second hymn, as my hard dick was pushing up my pants in a tent. The tightness of my suit tended to reduce the visible effect, but still. I hoped nobody noticed how I was flushing.

The first reader announced the "Moment of silent prayer, followed by the audible repetition of the Lord's Prayer with its spiritual interpretation as given in the Christian Science textbook." I kept thinking of the girls rough-housing and playing around, hugging, until the Second Reader opened with, "Our Father, which art in Heaven," and I automatically joined in with the rest of the congregation.

Then came the second hymn, various notices and announcements, and a soloist singing one of Mrs. Eddy's hymns. The words were familiar, but the melody utterly strange, especially as sung in an operatic voice.

Then came the Lesson-Sermon, read alternately by the Second Reader (the Bible) and the First Reader ("Science and Health"). Again, we had to participate in the Responsive Reading. I'd heard the Lesson every day at home in the morning, along with the Mental Work -- or rather, the lesson flowed over me every day the past week, and it did so now. It still seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with "Atomic Force." I sat back and day-dreamed more about Bikini Beach and the girls.

Mmmmm... hugging bikini-clad, practically naked girls, each of them several times -- once in front of Ma even! How could I ever have done that?! We weren't a hugging family, and I always froze when Grandma wanted to hug -- mushy stuff. Now I was flaming with major embarrassment. I glanced over at Ma, sitting motionless with eyes closed, apparently concentrating on the Lesson. Ruth, sitting next to me -- strange, she always sat next to Ma before -- also with eyes closed, more relaxed. I couldn't tell if she was asleep. I was most glad Pa never saw me hugging the girls.

One embarrassing incident could have been disastrous, but turned out quite heartwarming. It happened when Becky caught me by surprise and yanked my swimming trunks down -- the first time anyone saw me naked in years -- girls in particular! I reacted furiously, causing Becky to burst in tears. I tried to apologize, feeling terrible about it. Vanessa saved the day.

"All right everyone, out of the pool!" Vanessa sounded like a stern mother, and we complied immediately. "Group hug, everyone!" She immediately gathered Carol and Becky in her arms. Alice came and embraced me. I wound up hugging all of them individually and in groups, including one massive huddle hug.

Becky was initially hesitant when it came to me. I repeated, "I'm truly sorry, Becky. Really." We held each other at arms length for some time, until she melted in my arms and pressed against me.

I still felt bad about that incident, but at least the girls had forgiven me. The girls were all as touchy-feely with me as among themselves, afterwards. I wondered what would have happened otherwise.

I came to when the music began for the collection. Pa reached over and handed Ruth and me a dollar each. The collection-cap went by, and we slipped the cash in. I saw Ma and Pa both contributing checks.

Finally, the third hymn was sung, the First Reader went through the final short readings, and Church was over. At last!

But we still had to wait through Ma's mandatory socialization, chatting with fellow women at church. She called us over and introduced herself and us to some new-comer. "This is my husband, Daniel Cuttington. And these are my children -- my son Luke -- he's fourteen now -- and my daughter Ruth -- she's nine."

Additionally, a middle-aged man whom I recognized slightly from church was here with a girl Ruth's age. This time, Ruth did the introductions. Ruth went up and greeted her. "Hi, Beth."

"Hi, um -- I forget your name."

"That's okay. I'm Ruth, and this is my brother, Luke."

"Hi!" I said.

"Beth's visiting her grandpa for the summer, and she just started my Sunday School class. Ma and Pa are over there."

"Ma, Pa. Just like the Little House on the Prairie!" Beth said, laughing.

Ruth giggled, and I couldn't help laughing a little, even while sighing. We often got that reaction.

But finally we got in the car. I was quite itching to get out of this tight suit, especially with my sunburnt skin. Pa drove off.

On the way, Pa murmured to himself something about filling the tank. We drove past a gas station, one we often used, but Pa didn't stop there. A bunch of girls in bikinis, and a few guys also in swimsuits, were holding a car-wash. The girls seemed about my age or somewhat younger, and they were all in bikinis.

I held my head averted from them, not wanting my family to sense any interest in looking at bikini-clad girls. Pa despised girls in bikinis, and I sensed another rant coming up. I tried to close it out.

"Young girls these days, the way they dress up and expose themselves ... the good old days ... clothing common streetwalkers would be ashamed to be seen in ... unaware no doubt how they expose themselves ... the entertainment industry ..." We didn't have a television set, except for one in Pa's home office that we were never allowed in. "Don't let me catch you in anything like that, Ruth. Shorts are okay for you now, but when you're a couple years older, they'll only be appropriate for gym and exercise." Pa ranted on some more, about the state of the world and education these days.

Did Pa even know that we'd gone to a water park called Bikini Beach the previous day? I had no idea what Ma told Pa, other than we were going somewhere. Pa would have strenuously objected, had he known. Ma would have won in the end, though.

We had Sunday Dinner at home. Unfortunately, Ma demanded that I stay dressed up for Sunday Dinner. I had to stay in this uncomfortable suit, and couldn't change into tee-shirt and jeans until afterwards.

I went to the library to spend the afternoon. Pa handed me a bunch of books to return. I loved going to the library and reading there.

At the library, I made my way to an aisle in the adult section, where I often frequented when I was by myself at the library. I picked out a book discussing crime and criminal justice.

As usual, I burned in fury. I mean, how could they possibly think that making a person confess to a crime proves that he did it? I kept imagining myself in the back room of a police station while police officers kept at me. Could I resist the pressure to confess?

Something happened many years ago. A woman had been raped and left for dead in New York City's Central Park. It had been a case of black teens going wilding. But years later, apparently after most were released after serving their youth sentences, they were all exonerated through DNA testing.

Someone else -- a serial killer -- had committed the crime. The police had made the boys confess, interrogating them hours on end. I couldn't imagine what they had gone through.

Finally, I couldn't stand the fury any more, and slipped the book back in the shelf. I went to another shelf just a few feet away, near one corner. I was feeling giddy and flushed as I looked both ways, not seeing anyone in this aisle.

Here were books about sex. I pulled down a book called "Forbidden Flowers" and opened at random. While reading some of the fantasies there, I kept thinking about the girls at Bikini Beach and found myself getting the most excited since I first looked at that book.

It was only when the library closed -- at four on Sundays -- that I walked home. Pa had watched the baseball game in his office. That was the only TV we had in our house, and only he and Ma were allowed to watch it, most of the time. Ruth was up in her room, and Ma was cleaning up something.

Monday, June 23

Like every morning, after breakfast we all had to listen to the Mental Work. It was an old cassette recording of my great-grandma, with various passages from the Bible, "Science and Health", and other works of Mrs. Eddy. Mrs. Eddy had founded Christian Science over a century ago, so what she had to say was pretty important.

But it was a boring ten minutes that went on forever. "Neither animosity nor mere personal attachment shall impel the motives or acts ..." "It shall be the duty of every member of this church to defend himself daily against aggressive mental suggestion..." "What is God? God is incorporeal, supreme, infinite, Mind, Spirit, Soul, Principle, Life, Truth, Love" -- the Seven Synonyms of God everyone knew. "Animal Magnetism, hypnotism, etc. are disarmed by the practitioner..." "The mental malpractitioner is not, cannot be, a Christian Scientist. He is disloyal to God and man; he has every opportunity to mislead the human mind, and he uses it."

I noticed Ruth glaring at Ma. Both Ma and Pa seemed oblivious.

Of course, it wasn't the end when the Mental Work concluded. The Lesson-Sermon for the week followed. Mondays, we had to tape-record it so that we could listen the rest of the week. Ma and Pa recorded it together, playing the First Reader and Second Reader.

I started by listening, but as usual fogged out, only picking out isolated sentences: "And Jesus, when he came out, saw much people, and was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd..." "His proof of Christianity was no form or system of religion and worship, but Christian Science, working out the harmony of Life and Love." "We cannot build safely on false foundations." "WINE. Inspiration; understanding. Error; fornication; temptation; passion." I blushed at hearing that; I'd learned what fornication was only a year or two ago. "For precept must be upon precept, precept upon precept; line upon line, line upon line; here a little, and there a little..."

Eventually it was over -- finally! Pa went off to work, and I spent the rest of the morning reading books I'd checked out yesterday.

But I had piano lessons at 11:30, a weekly event I always dreaded, and then Taekwondo at 1:00. I changed into my TKD uniform at home; as I did, I overheard Ruth complaining to Ma about ballet lessons, which she had the same time as my TKD. "I can't let Luke see me dressed like that!" I couldn't hear Ma's muffled reply, but I was puzzled. I always saw her in her pink leotard and white tights when we walked home together afterwards.

Hey, I even saw her in a red bikini at Bikini Beach last Saturday!

I gathered my piano music, and left the house to trudge off to the piano lesson. It was simpler to wear my TKD uniform, than to carry it with me to change when I reached the TKD dojang.

I arrived at Mrs. Prudence's house with time to spare, even though I always slowed down as I got closer and closer, and my stomach sank lower and lower. I practiced a few punches and kicks while waiting outside.

Eventually, the door opened and Mrs. Prudence's previous student came out -- "Hi," we greeted each other -- and I nervously entered. Mrs. Prudence was such a scold, although she seemed nicer now -- perhaps since I began TKD this summer? Or since I began wearing my uniform to lessons? I wasn't sure.

"Hello, Luke," she greeted me, ignoring my TKD uniform as usual.

"Hello, Mrs. Prudence."

At the piano, I stretched and exercised my fingers, and the lesson began. We did scales and arpeggios, and I had three pieces to learn and a fourth to memorize. It seemed that I was doing considerably better this summer, perhaps because she was being nicer.

But still -- "Turn your thumb under just when you play the note!" "No, no, that's sharped!" She rapidly wrote in the sharp next to the note. "No, use your *third* finger. Obey the marked fingerings!"

After the lesson ended, I walked the half-mile to the TKD dojang at the mall. TKD was more fun, as we practiced various punches and kicks, and even sparred together. We practiced roundhouse kicking against huge bags hanging from the ceiling. I'd thought it would seriously hurt when I first saw the instructor a month ago kicking the bag hard over a month ago, but it really doesn't.

TKD was in the same shopping center as Ruth's ballet, so I had to meet her after class and walk home with her. As I approached, a bunch of girls with a couple boys among them emerged, variously dressed -- leotards, tights, jeans, shorts, dresses, skirts.

Ruth was one of the last to emerge. She was in her usual pink leotard and white tights, but additionally wore a pink wrap-around skirt. She came out very slowly and stopped and blushed as pink as her leotard, and looked down when I called her. Very strange. Usually, she came out chattering with the other girls and guys. But now, I got the sense that she felt herself at the bottom of her world, utterly defeated.

"Hey, Kiddo." She let me take her hand, and we slowly descended the stairs to ground level. "What's wrong? Did something happen in ballet?"

She kept her face down, not looking at me. "I found that I remembered everything and understood everything."

"Well, yeah. You've done ballet for, like, two years? You're pretty good."

We walked in silence, exiting the mall and turning onto the street that led home.

"You really don't remember, do you, Luke?" Ruth asked.

"Uh, no. I don't understand." I really was puzzled. Ruth was getting really strange there, almost adult-like even. What on earth was she getting at?

"You don't remember -- Ru, ru, puh, p-p-Pater?" It seemed that she choked up on the word, and finally pronounced it the German way.

"You mean Peter?" There was a Peter in a couple of my classes last year in eighth grade, and a couple other Peters here and there. "A classmate of your?" It occurred to me to needle her about having a boyfriend, but then I sensed it wouldn't be a good thing to do.

"You really don't remember."

"Tell me, what should I remember?"

"You don't remember your little sister?"

Huh???

"Arrgh!!" Ruth pulled from my clasp suddenly, and ran off. I gave chase, but she was surprisingly as fast as me. I never knew she could run so fast.

"Ruth, wait up! Ruth!"

Continuing to run, she yelled out, "Mental malpractice! Animal magnetism, hypnotism, and so forth!" Gads, she was taking the Mental Work talk of mental malpractice too seriously. I wound up chasing her all the way home.

She ran right into the house, and up to her room.

Ma was out somewhere, probably shopping. Pa was at work of course. Ruth stayed in her room, coming out only to shower, even refusing to come downstairs when her best friend Daisy came over to play.

Daisy went up to Ruth's bedroom, then came back down in tears. "Daisy!" I exclaimed. I don't think we'd spoken five words together in the past; I mostly ignored her as Ruth's friend. But I couldn't bear to see her like that. "What happened?"

"Ruth just told me to go away! What did I do?" Daisy bawled.

"I'm so sorry. Ruth's been mad a lot lately. Would you like to do something with me, play a game perhaps?" I wasn't sure she'd like anything I did, or I'd like anything she did, but I felt I had to try. I handed her a Kleenex to wipe her eyes, and she blew her nose.

"Thanks, Luke. I'd like that." We wound up downstairs in the basement playroom playing Sorry, a children's board game that was still interesting. Daisy was beating me hands down on our first game, when Ruth came down, her face drawn from crying.

"I'm so very very sorry, Daisy. I was just bitchy and nasty; I'm very sorry." The two girls hugged, and both began crying again. I felt a bit like crying myself.

Eventually, we got back to the game. Ruth stayed and watched while Daisy got her four pieces into Home. Afterwards, the three of us played a second game.

We were still playing when it was time for dinner. Daisy called home and got permission to stay. Ma made Ruth go upstairs and change into a dress. It seemed unfair, as I was allowed to wear jeans. In fact, I thought of changing into slacks myself, but I wimped out. From the expression on Daisy's face, she thought it was unfair too.

After dinner, I practiced the piano for half an hour; then the three of us played another game until Daisy had to go home for the night and Ruth had to go to bed. I went to bed at the same time, feeling elated and surprised that I could have such a fun time with my little sister and her best friend.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 3
Back to Bikini Beach

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.

Tuesday June 24

I had no scheduled activities the next day -- no Taekwondo, no piano lessons, no clarinet lessons. I woke up from a dream about the girls at Bikini Beach, and realized I really wanted to go back to Bikini Beach and see them again. They met on Tuesdays and Thursdays if I recalled correctly. I would die of embarrassment if anyone -- especially my parents -- knew how I wanted to be with the girls again.

Before breakfast, I sat down at the piano and practiced for half an hour. I didn't want to be chewed out thoroughly by the piano teacher again.

"Good work, son," said Pa as he came downstairs for breakfast. After breakfast as usual, we listened to the Mental Work and Ma and Pa's recording of the Lesson. I kept thinking about Bikini Beach and the girls, and kept wondering how to bring it up. I knew Pa was strongly against Bikini Beach and despised girls in skimpy dress in general, and girls in bikinis in particular.

After Pa left for work, Ma asked the two of us, "What are plans for today?"

"How about Bikini Beach?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

"No!" shrieked Ruth. "Not there!"

"That's it," answered Ma sternly. "We're going."

"No, we don't have to..." I tried lamely. "I mean, if Ruth doesn't..." I trailed off. Why was she so vehemently against it, when she had fun last Saturday as well?

"No, we're going." Ma put her foot down. "Ruth must learn that she can't have everything her own way." I didn't like that, even though I wound up getting what I wanted. It left a sour taste.

I went upstairs to get my swimming trunks and a towel, and I made sure I brought plenty of SPF-50 sunscreen. I was still itching and sore from Saturday's sunburn. Fortunately, my swimming trunks were rather long, almost down to my knees. I could just imagine what would have happened if I'd worn a bikini or Speedo instead.

The huge parking lot was considerably emptier than last Saturday, and the ticket line was far shorter. I kept my eyes averted, to avoid being caught ogling the girls, as they were all very attractive. This was a place only for girls, although they'd accepted me last Saturday without any problems.

Ma handed me the pass as we went over to the turnstile After passing through, I went to the men's changing room while Ma and Ruth went to the women's.

I was alone in the men's room. I changed into my swimsuit, stuffing my clothes in a locker, and pinning the key to my swimming trunks. I slipped on a pair of flip-flops and headed to the shower to rinse off.

After the shower, I looked myself over in the mirror, and cringed at the idea of going out in public in this bikini, and at the memory of having done it last Saturday. Hadn't I vowed to wear a one-piece suit instead? Too late now, though. I definitely hoped Pa wouldn't find out.

I was itching and sore all over. I put on sunscreen, trying to reach every bit of exposed skin possible. Finally, with an embarrassed shudder, I left the locker room and emerged into the sunshine of Bikini Beach.

I had to check in with Ma and Ruth, and I was hoping to find the girls. But I was nevertheless surprised to spot a familiar figure in the distance, Vanessa! Yes, next to her were Carol and Becky, standing in a group by themselves.

"Hey, guys!" I called out, running toward them.

They turned as one toward me, and Vanessa shouted, "Lucy!"

"You actually came!" said Carol, as we all embraced.

"You got good and burnt last Saturday," added Becky, touching a particularly burnt spot on my arm.

I gestured at my sunscreen attached to my bikini bottom. "I made sure to have plenty close at hand. So where's Alice? Is she with you?"

"I haven't seen her," said Vanessa. "I hope she comes."

"I have to go check in with Ma," I said. "You'll wait for me, right?"

"We'll go with you," said Vanessa.

We entered the ladies' changing room, and in short order spotted Alice. She was in a bikini this time, in the middle of slopping sunscreen on.

"Hey, Alice!" Shouted Carol.

"So you've decided to risk wearing a bikini again," said Becky.

"I felt uncomfortable, out of place, being the only one in a one-piece," replied Alice.

"Oh, you shouldn't have," said Vanessa. "Not on our account at least. It's perfectly fine to be different from the rest of us. Differences are to be celebrated."

"I was wishing I'd brought my own one-piece instead," I added. "When I think about it, I feel awfully naked in this. And Pa hates girls wearing bikinis, or going around in skimpy clothing."

"So why didn't you?" asked Becky sassily.

"Um, I can't remember," I answered, a little disturbed. "I guess I just didn't think about it. Anyway, I need to find Ma."

Ma and Ruth were only a couple aisles away. Ma was putting sunscreen on Ruth, who was in a one-piece swimsuit this time. Again, I regretted not bringing mine.

Ma greeted me with, "I see you've met your new friends, Lucy. Hello, girls."

"What? Oh!" They'd followed me.

"Hello, Mrs. Cuttington," answered Vanessa. The other three all said, "Hi."

"Go, have fun with your friends, Lucy. Meet us -- oh, how about at the Tiki Hut this time -- around noon," said Ma. "It's in the South Sea Adventures." That was easy. "We'll spend some time together after lunch, though."

We were waiting in line for the Spillway Slide, when Carol brought up high school in the fall.

"Are you trying to depress us or something?" pouted Becky.

"To tell the truth, I'm scared," I admitted. "Classes will be hard."

"And we'll be the lowest of the low, as freshmen," added Carol.

"They'll be mean to us, and we can't talk back," said Becky.

Alice was silent throughout, as was Vanessa. Glancing over at Alice, I saw that she was about to cry, just barely holding it in.

Vanessa took her in her arms, and she opened up and cried. I just froze; I couldn't take it. Becky froze too, while Carol went and hugged her. Vanessa kept whispering soothing sounds in her ear. When Vanessa led Alice out of the line, she said, "You three go on. We'll be okay."

"No way!" exclaimed Becky. "We're all with you!" She glanced at us and we nodded, following them out of the line to a place to sit and relax.

I felt utterly distressed. What the heck happened?

"Should I tell them?" Carol asked Vanessa and Alice.

I thought I saw a subtle nod of Alice in Vanessa's chest, and Vanessa nodded to Carol, "Go ahead."

"Alice's cousin was raped and murdered. Shortly after high school let out for the summer."

I could feel my mouth working soundlessly. I felt distinctly nauseated, about to collapse. I vaguely noticed Becky bursting into tears, and push by Carol and hug Alice. I think I fainted.

I came to, and burst into tears myself. "Oh, Alice, Alice, Alice!"

"Jill was sixteen. She was going to be a senior next year. She was a cheerleader." Alice kept talking her cousin, tears running down her face, for the next half hour, as we listened. "She skipped eighth grade and went into high school a year early."

"Alice was sent here," Carol told us, "to escape some of the distress and help her recover. She was close to her cousin."

"Did they catch the killer?" Becky asked.

"Yeah," answered Alice. "The police caught him and made him confess to it. He's going to prison, or will die."

I was a little bit relieved. At least they caught him.

We lay about the rest of the morning, not in the mood for fun and excitement. I ate lunch with Ma and Ruth. Ruth was quite excited and chattering, and I briefly wondered what made her so opposed to Bikini Beach this morning. Mostly, I just let her chatter on, caught up in my own thoughts.

We spent some time together, mostly relaxing and napping for an hour. Then I rejoined the girls. Things were better that afternoon, and we had a little fun on the water rides. But then Ruth and I had to leave at five with Ma because Ma had to go to a weekly meeting that evening. We girls shared a tearful goodnight, hugging each other. "You okay?" I asked Alice and she nodded somberly.

Back home, Ma started dinner while Ruth and I showered and dressed up. We always had to dress properly for dinner. Ruth excitedly told Pa about a prize she had won at Bikini Beach. Pa just grunted; he hated anything to do with bikinis.

I practiced piano for half an hour after dinner. Ma went out to her meeting with "Firm Love" or something like that. After practicing piano, I went to my room to practice my clarinet. I kept thinking about my hunk of a clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon, and I wanted to play extra-special-well for him. After working through the exercises in Klose, I played some dreamy music, eyes closed, Brandon's face floating in my mind.

At one point, memories of the day intruded, and I felt guilty about such selfish fantasizing when a friend had been horribly wronged. Crying, I automatically took apart and cleaned my clarinet, putting it away, as I kept thinking about Alice and her cousin's murder.

Eventually, I went to bed haunted by the murder.

Wednesday, June 25

I woke up the next morning utterly distressed about Alice's cousin being murdered. I tried to imagine Ma being murdered, or Pa, or even my baby sister Ruth! I don't think I could stand it.

I didn't know my own cousins very well, but I heard that in some families, cousins were closer than brothers and sisters. Suppose one of the girls at Bikini Beach were murdered -- could I take that?

I also felt conflicted yet guilty about having thinking exclusively of the scary experiences of criminal suspects with police, while ignoring what the victims went through. But what if the suspect were innocent? It was just so confusing. What did Alice say? Something about making him confess? Oh, I hope not!

I got up finally and showered. My skin was beginning to peel from last Saturday's sunburn. At least yesterday, I'd used plenty of sunscreen. Carol rubbing it into my back had been wonderful.

Listening to the Mental Work and the Lesson, I kept thinking about Alice and her murdered cousin. I wondered if this preoccupation with death was aggressive mental suggestion. I felt comforted when the Mental Work recited Mrs. Eddy's version of the 23rd Psalm, with "the Lord" replaced by "Divine Love" or just "Love." "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for [Love is] with me."

I tried to listen more to the Lesson, and understand that sin, disease, and death were unreal and illusion, and that the murder never really happened -- it was Error. "The exterminator of Error is the great truth that God, good, is the only Mind." Error had to be exterminated -- a powerful unreality that we had to stand porter and guard against.

Wednesday was mostly a free day for Ruth and me. I managed to get myself to practice a half hour on the piano, and I also played some random scales and songs on the clarinet. I felt too lazy to get out the Klose and work at those difficult exercises. Then I joined Ruth and Daisy in a game of Life.

I had Taekwondo at one, and Ruth had ballet. Both of us dressed up at home, me in my TKD uniform and Ruth in her leotard and tights, and a wraparound skirt she wore for her recent uncharacteristic modesty.

As we left the house together, I reached out to take Ruth's hand. She looked at me out the corner of her eye with an expression that clearly said, "Whaddya think you're doing?!" and whipped her hand away. Humph!

It was a mile or so walk, and I left her at her ballet studio while I crossed the mall to the TKD dojang. I picked her up again afterwards, and we walked home together.

Back at home that afternoon, Ma was out somewhere, and I was back in my ordinary jeans and tee-shirt, reading. I got up for something, and heard a "Hah!" from down in the basement. That sound, common in TKD, was puzzling coming from Ruth; I wondered what was up.

I went partway down the stairs to see what was up. I saw both Ruth and Daisy doing a front kick, a roundhouse kick, and a punch -- just like what we did in TKD. Ruth was in a tank-top and shorts, while Daisy was wearing a short dress. Ruth's moves seemed quite good, while Daisy was more clumsy. It seemed like Ruth was teaching Daisy.

They both immediately spotted me. "Are they teaching you that in ballet, or something?" I asked Ruth.

"Nope. Come down and join us, Luke!" said Ruth excitedly.

"I already did Taekwondo today and I'm a bit tired and sore, and I'm not dressed for it now," I said, indicating my jeans.

"That's not a problem," she replied. "Just take'em off. You *are* wearing underwear, right?" she added with a giggle.

Daisy echoed her giggle. "Luke, I'm showing my underwear when I do this. I'm sure you can, too."

"Uh, no thanks. I'll take a pass on that." Ruth and Daisy laughed further as I made a hasty, embarrassed exit.

Unfortunately, it was Wednesday. That meant we had to go to the Wednesday Evening Meeting at Church, an intolerably boring hour except for the hymn-singing. I had to dress up in my ill-fitting suit again. Ruth looked great in her dress.

The service opened with a hymn, followed by the First Reader reading from the Bible and "Science and Health" -- his own readings, not the Lesson-Sermon. I tuned out and thought back to Bikini Beach, the girls, the fun, the affectionate hugging and touching, Alice's cousin being murdered. That last was a downer, haunting all else.

My musings ended when the First Reader announced the moment of silent prayer followed by the Lord's Prayer. After that, we had the second hymn, a familiar one by Mrs. Eddy, but with the adult music.

The second half, longer than the first half, was the most boring part. The audience was "invited," in the words of the First Reader, "To give testimonials of healing and comments about Christian Science." I slithered down to fantasize more about the girls, when a man stood up.

At the First Reader's nod, he spoke. "I am exceedingly grateful to Mrs. Eddy for her teachings on Christian Science. As the sign says, `Divine Love always has met, and always will meet, every human need.' I have been blessed by Divine Love with numerous healings and demonstrations.

"Several years back, I experienced a claim of facial paralysis; the right side of my face wouldn't move. A doctor suggested a couple of drugs, but told me there was nothing they could really do. Rejecting the drugs, I turned to `Science and Health.'

"`What is Man?' `Man is not matter. He is not made up of brain, blood, bones, and other material elements. The scriptures inform us that Man is made in the image and likeness of God.' I understood that God cannot be paralyzed, and Man in God's image cannot be. I could never be paralyzed in reality.

"To make a long story short, after a couple weeks of Knowing the Truth about Man, I realized that my face was perfectly whole, perfectly mobile. I am so grateful for Mrs. Eddy and Christian Science." The man sat down, and the First Reader nodded with a smile.

I'd never given a testimonial myself, and I kept dreading the time when I had to stand up and give one. That prospect was scary, terrifying. A couple more persons stood up and gave testimonies. Then, after a few minutes of silence, the First Reader said, "Let us close this service by singing hymn number 97." It was another vaguely familiar hymn, a nice haunting one.

The service ended at that point. We listened to the organist playing random music and waited for Ma to chat and gossip with a few other women, then finally went home. I dozed off in the car. When I got home, I went straight to my room, got out of that suit and into my pajamas, and went straight to bed even though it was an hour before my bedtime.

Even so, I had trouble falling asleep. I kept thinking about the four girls, and couldn't wait to join them again. I found myself on my stomach, pillow rotated longways under me, excitedly imagining myself with the four girls all naked, me looking at them, touching, kissing, licking... Oh, what a scene! I was moving my knees up and down, rocking back and fourth, breathing in gasps, feeling ever more excited, when a wonderful paralyzing buzzing sensation swept over me, and my dick pulsated and spurt goo into my underpants and pajamas.

I felt very guilty afterwards, thinking about them like that, especially Alice with her murdered cousin. And I couldn't bear for Ma or anyone to find that mess in my underwear, or find out that I thought and did such things at night. I got up out of bed, opened the door to check -- nobody visible. I crossed the hallway to the bathroom, took a washcloth and tried to clean everything up.

I ended up with distinctly wet pajama bottoms, with still a little bit of stickiness remaining. I changed into a clean set of pajamas, and returned to bed. I fell asleep shortly.

Thursday, June 26

All through the morning activities, I kept hoping and praying that we'd return to Bikini Beach. I didn't want to ask right out; I was terrified they would guess how eager I was to see the girls again. Anyway, after Pa left for work, Ma announced that we were going to Bikini Beach. I was so excited and elated! I quickly wrapped my swimming trunks and sunscreen in a towel and went downstairs, all ready to go.

Ruth emerged slowly from her room with her stuff, and stopped at the top of the stairs. I went back up and said, "You don't seem very excited."

"I can't say why, Luke. Literally," she answered. "Won't let me." Who wouldn't let her? Or what? "I don't think I could have said that if I'd said, `Bikini Beach'" Ruth continued, apparently as explanation -- but it didn't help.

"You seem happy and excited when we get there and meet your group of friends," I pointed out.

"Yeah, that's the good part of Bikini Beach. That and the water rides. Then there's what it does to our minds. That may be partly why we make friends so quickly, and are so excited about our friends. I can tell, you're excited at meeting your new friends there."

I blushed. I wasn't that obvious, was I? I wasn't even sporting an erection now.

"Hey, it's cool, Luke. You're just one of the girls when you're with them, right?" said Ruth with a smirk.

That was actually what it was like. I was one of the girls -- not literally, of course. But the way I remembered it, I hardly thought of my maleness at all when I was actually with them. But how could nine-year-old Ruth say something like that? It sounded almost adult.

"Luke! Ruth! Are we ready to go?" Ma called from downstairs.

"Coming, Ma," I called out. We went down together.

At Bikini Beach, as soon as I showered, I realized damn! I'd completely forgotten again. I was going to wear a one-piece swimsuit. I was so scared that one of these days, Pa would catch me. I definitely looked hot, looking at myself in the mirror, but that was another problem: I was exposing myself practically naked to the world. Giving into sensuality and material sense -- so contrary to Christian Science. This was a form of Error.

One other thing kept bugging me. Worrying about it was due to the insidious influence of Error, of course, but I didn't seem to have the mental strength to deny Error. Lots of stray hair stuck out around my bikini bottom. The other girls didn't have that problem. I'd peeked a number of times.

"Hey, Lucy!" Alice called me over as I exited the changing room. I ran over and hugged Vanessa, Alice, and Becky. It was so wonderful seeing them again.

"Vanessa! Alice! Becky! Where's Carol?" I looked them up and down, glancing quickly at their crotches. Yep, perfectly clean of hair. I was embarrassed anew at my own exposed hairy bottom. Becky caught my eye, and I blushed, wondering if she'd caught me focusing on the girls' crotches. She winked.

I saw Ruth coming out of the changing room with some of her friends, all excitedly talking. They all ran off. She'd lost her reservations about Bikini Beach for now.

Carol joined us shortly, and we made our way across the water park to a large pool with heavy surf.

WHUMP! came the sound at the far end, and a wave left the far end and rolled toward us as we dashed into the water. The wave was ten feet high at the far end, when first generated. It was somewhat smaller when it reached the floats limiting where swimmers could swim, and a lot smaller by the time it reached us. It broke right over me, dumping me down. I clambered back up shrieking and laughing. The water was wonderfully cool, with the hot weather we had.

After a few more waves, I announced, "Hey guys, I'm rather tired. I'm going out for a while, okay?" The girls joined me as I left the pool.

We headed toward a group of mostly empty beach chairs, occupied by a lone -- and lonely looking -- girl in a one-piece swimsuit. She was Asian, likely younger than us, and looked sad as we approached.

"Hey darlin'" Vanessa greeted the girl. "You look rather down." Vanessa sat down next to the girl, as the girl began crying, and drew her into her bosom. They were whispering, and I couldn't tell what they were saying. I was curious, but Carol touched my shoulder and said, "Let's back off and leave them alone together." So Carol, Becky, Alice, and I found places a little ways off to relax and soak up some rays.

Too soon, it was time for lunch with Ma and Ruth. "I'll return soon, I promise." We had a light but expensive lunch -- Ma paid for it without complaining, of course. Afterwards, Ruth had to return to the dressing room for something, and Ma and I followed.

In the dressing room, I spotted a vending machine selling razor blades among other intimate objects that I blushed at. Very embarrassed, I asked, "Ma? Could I have some change? I need to get something."

"What do you need?"

"It's... um." I was feeling really embarrassed about wanting to shave my pubic region. I couldn't say it; I was glancing down.

"Lucy, dear, you know you don't have to be embarrassed about anything with your Ma. You can ask me anything, and discuss anything. I agree, your legs, arms, and underarms do need shaving. Get several razors." She handed me some money and I was relieved that she'd missed my primary concern.

I got two razors from the machine, and also some lotion. I found a private shower stall and removed my bikini. Ma was right; I needed to shave my arms just a little bit, and my armpits. I finished them in short order, then set about removing the hint of hair from my legs. I told myself that would make my legs look a notch -- perhaps subliminally -- better at my clarinet lesson tomorrow. My clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon, a man in his twenties -- probably twice my age -- was such a hottie and a hunk.

Shaving my legs led directly to my crotch. Of course, Brandon would never see the difference there, but anyone here at Bikini Beach would. I began intending to leave my hair under my bikini intact, but as I progressed, it never looked or felt right. I wound up shaving it all off, except for isolated patches right between my legs.

I definitely felt cooler and crisper once I finished and put my bikini back on. Unfortunately, I nicked myself a few times, and it itched down there. But at least I no longer had hair around my bikini.

I was feeling rather shy and embarrassed about meeting Ma and Ruth now, but Ma said, "I'm happy you're taking more of an interest in your appearance, Lucy. Your friends at Bikini Beach seem to be a good influence on you."

For a moment, I wondered at that, about paying attention to the material aspect in Christian Science. Then I recalled something in "Science and Health" where Mrs. Eddy refuses to tolerate a speck of dirt on someone.

Then I went back out to find my friends. "Over here, Lucy!" Becky called out before I saw them, in line for a water slide. The new girl was with them, and seemed better now.

"Our new friend is Jen," Carol told me. "Jennifer Lam, right?"

"Yes," she answered softly, shyly.

"Hello." I took both her hands, wondering if hugging her would be appropriate. Then I brushed aside the worry and hugged her to me. She wrapped her arms tightly around me and we stood a moment before separating.

"A friend of hers is in jail for murder," Becky told me.

"But Tim couldn't have done it. He's not like that. They must have framed him!" Jen burst into tears. Vanessa went to console her.

"Becky Miura," said Alice. "You might consider thinking just a bit before running your mouth."

Becky burst in tears. "I'm so sorry. I know I'm bubble-headed I just can't help it."

"Well, you just might focus on sealing your lips, unless you want them sealed the hard way," said Alice mercilessly.

Becky turned away and leaned against a pole, continuing to cry. I couldn't bear to see her cry further, so I went and put my arms around her. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I just stood and held her until she stopped crying.

We continued spending the afternoon together, but it wasn't very happy overall for us. Near the end of the afternoon, we were close to our usual happy selves. Even Jen was chatting and laughing on occasion, having fun with the rest of us.

Back home, as usual I wondered if Pa would find out I'd been wearing a bikini all day. I found some Post-Its and put a note on my bikini when I hung it in the closet, to bring a one-piece swimsuit to Bikini Beach. I didn't want to keep disobeying Pa and fearing being caught. I labeled the note, "IMPORTANT!!"

Ruth and I had to shower and dress up for dinner. In my shower, I inspected my noon handiwork down there. I looked almost like a little girl. The nicks were healing nicely.

After dinner, I changed back into jeans and tee-shirt and practiced on my piano. After a half-hour of practice, I heard Ruth down in the playroom, and thought I'd join her. Again, like yesterday afternoon, she was kicking and punching the air. What was it called again? Oh yeah, Taekwondo. How bizarre, girls actually wanting to fight and kick.

"Come on down," Ruth said. "I have to be rather quiet about this when Ma's home." I noticed she wasn't doing any of the shouts she did yesterday. "I'd like to attend Taekwondo class, but Ma would never allow it."

"No, of course not. How can a girl actually want to do that kind of thing," I said. "Fight? Kick? If you were a boy, I'd call it a macho thing."

"And if you were a boy," retorted Ruth, "You'd do it yourself. Instead of ballet."

I couldn't imagine being male. "Good thing I'm a girl then, right?"

"Ballet's okay, I guess." Okay? Just okay? She GUESSES? She continued, "I never imagined saying that. Only a couple weeks ago the idea of ballet would have been wonderful -- I mean, I never thought I would demean ballet." What the heck was she saying?! "No-no-no! It's scrambling my words!" She spun around with a hard kick to the air. "Take that, Bikini Beach!" Another hard kick. "Take that, Ma!" Another hard kick, and she rolled to the floor crying and curling up.

"Ruth!" I knelt down and took her in my arms, sitting down back so her head was in my lap. She continued weeping. It didn't sound like she'd hurt herself falling; it was something else. Something bizarre was going on, and I had no idea what. Whatever it was, Ruth was distressed and I had to comfort her.

After a couple minutes, she rose up and said, "I'm okay now. Thank you, Lucy." We went upstairs together, meeting Ma on the way down.

"I heard something," said Ma.

"Everything's okay," I told Ma. I knew from Ruth's acts earlier, that Ruth didn't want me to tell Ma anything.

"You sure?"

"Yes, we're fine," answered Ruth.

We went to our rooms. I changed into my nightgown, and got out my clarinet to practice. Tomorrow, I had clarinet lesson, and I wanted to do my absolute best for Brandon. Ah, Brandon...

Friday, June 27

There they were, all my girlfriends: Chinese Carol, Tall Black Vanessa, Short Redheaded Alice, Japanese Becky, even the new Chinese girl Jen, all waiting for me at a pool in Bikini Beach, all gorgeously clad in bikinis and flip-flops of various colors and designs.

We ran into each others' arms in a mass group hug, pressing up skin against skin. Flush with excitement, I kept my arms around two of them and turned toward Ma and Pa behind me. "Pa, these are my Bikini Beach friends," I began, when I realized how my dick was tenting my bikini bottom -- Oh God, I was introducing bikini-clad girls to Pa, and I was wearing a bikini bottom, practically naked myself, sporting a boner! Big trouble, horror, panic!

I woke up gasping, finding myself in bed, my dick tenting the sheet and blanket the way it did my bikini(?!) in the dream. I waited for my breathing and heartbeat to slow down, then got up and used the bathroom, returning to bed much relieved.

I snuggled back down in bed and promptly fell fast asleep.

I woke up in the morning absently scratching an itch just above my dick. My dick and balls were now hairless, I could feel. I cringed. For some reason I couldn't fathom in the least, I'd shaved myself yesterday at Bikini Beach. Arms, legs, underarms, and most of all my dick and balls and everything around. I guess I'd thought it'd be cool to look more like my girlfriends there.

I tossed my blankets off, got out of bed, dropped my PJs and looked down there. Yuck! My dick and balls were all wrinkled, shriveled up, bare, a dingy puce-pink, missing all the surrounding hair. Stray hairs protruded all around. Whatever possessed me to do such a thing?!

It was just so ridiculous.

After piano practice, on the way to breakfast, I saw Ruth, she turned her head away and down, with an embarrassed smile. I wondered if she somehow detected my shaved groin, but then I remembered our uncharacteristic emotional moment together last night. I felt a little embarrassed, but also somehow happy at the memory.

During breakfast, and listening to the Mental Work, I kept dreading that Ma or Pa would somehow detect that I'd shaved my crotch. It was nerve-wracking During the Mental Work, when it reached the mental malpractice part, I glanced over at Ruth and yes, she was glaring.

"Stop making faces, Ruth," said Pa curtly.

After the Lesson, Pa left for work and I got out my clarinet for another practice session before that day's lesson. The clarinet method book, Klose, was thick and very tough -- even the early sections. Mr. Oregon, the clarinet teacher, was overall nicer and friendlier than Mrs. Prudence, and a lot younger. In his twenties, I thought. But clarinet lessons were still rather scary.

Daisy came over to see Ruth while I was still practicing. I was going to spend the morning reading, but Daisy wanted me to join them in a game of Careers. Initially annoyed, I got caught up in the game and had lots of fun.

Eventually, I had to get ready for clarinet lessons. I changed into my TKD uniform, packed my clarinet and Klose, and headed out for the mall. The clarinet lessons were held in Shandy's Music. I arrived early and half-listened to the saxophone lesson before mine as I put my clarinet together. I fingered a couple Klose exercises while waiting.

The saxophonist came out, a girl perhaps my age, followed by Mr. Oregon. "Hello, Luke," he greeted me. "Prepared for Taekwondo as usual, I see." Like the piano teacher, he'd changed a bit upon my starting TKD, but the difference was subtle and I couldn't identify it.

As the lesson began, my hairless crotch stood out in my mind, although eventually the lesson itself pushed the thought out. We played a hard eighth-note syncopation duet that I'd worked on quite a bit this past week, and I actually played the hard part fairly well -- cracking up only at the easier end of the passage.

"You've definitely worked on that," said Mr. Oregon. "I think we'll only need another week."

We were on the E and B major scales. They felt unnatural because we had to use the wrong pinky finger for low E and the B -- right-left-right was required for B-C#-D# and E-F#-G#. I was beginning to get used to the odd fingering though. We finished with a medley of old American folk songs, including "My Darling Clementine" and "Old Folks at Home."

The lesson ended with plenty of time to walk to the TKD gym. Again, I hoped and prayed that nobody would notice anything different about my crotch. Then I got caught up in kicking, punching, and shouting.

After TKD, I walked over to Ruth's ballet school. To my surprise, she was already waiting outside, back in her usual uniform, pink leotard and white tights without the wrap-around dress, chatting with a couple others, a boy and a girl.

"There's your brother," said the boy.

"Your brother's so cool! My big brother would never do anything like meet me after ballet and take me home," said the girl.

"Hi Luke!" she said. "Seeya guys!" I wondered, was Ruth back to her old self now? We started off together, and I reached to take her hand, and she whipped it away again with that look. Oh, well.

As we started the mile-walk home, Ruth said, "We ended early today because I confronted the ballet instructor, when she snapped at a student once too often. We wound up in a stand-off, with me in fighting stance ready for a front side kick followed by a roundhouse kick. During the standoff, I told her about Stockholm Syndrome, explaining the success of her meanness to students. You've heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Um, no I haven't." Ruth was being strange again.

"Well, it's what happens when someone controls someone else, sometimes through pain or threats or verbal abuse. After a few days, the victim turns to the abuser's side. It was named after some crime in Stockholm, Sweden, where the criminals took hostages. The hostages sided with the criminals in the prosecutions, and one of them even married one."

Fancy words from a nine-year-old girl. How did she come to know all this? Or was there anything to it? I didn't know what to say.

We walked on in silence, and then I casually said, "It seems that another person has joined my friends at Bikini Beach. Vanessa tells us that Bikini Beach was therapeutic -- something like that. Helping people who've had bad things happen."

Ruth looked as if she was about to say something, but kept silent. I continued, "A dear friend of the new girl was jailed for murder. Not only that, Alice's cousin was r--" I stopped, embarrassed mentioning rape, remembering that this was my nine-year-old sister. "Murdered. They caught someone and made him confess. I hope they didn't get the wrong man." I spat that last out in a burst of anger.

"You were about to say, `Raped and murdered,' weren't you?" said Ruth in a bitter tone.

"Yeah." This was getting really uncomfortable.

"What was her name, do you know?" asked Ruth.

"Alice's cousin, the victim?"

"Yeah."

"Alice told us, but I don't remember. Sixteen-year-old girl, went to the school I start this fall. Cheerleader."

"Her name wouldn't be, by any chance, Jill, would it?" asked Ruth after a moment.

"Now, that you mention it, I think Alice mentioned that name." Now how would Ruth know anything about it?

Ruth faced forward, biting her lip. She seemed to be thinking rather hard. We said nothing further until we got home.

Ma was doing laundry. "Both of you, you're just in time. Change, and I'll wash your things." We went to our rooms and I slipped out of my TKD uniform and put on a bathrobe.

Carrying my uniform with me, I knocked at Ruth's door. "Ruth, I'll take your stuff downstairs."

"Just a minute!" I heard a little motion, and Ruth, also in a bathrobe, opened the door and handed me her leotard and tights. "Thanks a lot, Luke. I'll only take a minute or so in the shower."

I delivered the dirty stuff to Ma, and returned, ready to take my shower. Ruth came out wearing her usual tee-shirt and shorts. She dashed downstairs and shouted out, "Ma I'm going over to Daisy's house now!"

I showered and dressed in jeans and tee-shirt, and went down. "Ma, is it okay if I go to the library?"

"Yes you may. Be back by 5:30 for dinner."

At the library, I thought of finding the politics section, but I started fuming horribly again about coerced false confessions. Instead, I went to find "Forbidden Flowers." That was a lot more pleasant, a lot more exciting even. I was deep in the aisles, yet I kept looking around. I knew I would be in deep trouble if I were caught. I turned to the "Gena" fantasy, flushing and breathing heavily, yet in terror of being caught.

Eventually, it was time to head home. When I arrived, Ma said, "Ruth's having supper with Daisy and spending the night. It's just the three of us here now."

After supper, Ma and Pa watched some old movie on video in Pa's office, while I went to my room to practice clarinet. I practiced a half-hour of piano as well. Monday was approaching, I told myself.

As I lay in bed for the night, I kept thinking about the girls. I tried to fantasize hugging the girls, seeing them naked, and having sex with them, but reality kept intruding. Alice's cousin raped and murdered. Jen's friend in jail for murder. I wondered if any of the others also had a dark secret background they were escaping from.

I was very lucky, I told myself. Nothing bad happened to myself or my family. Perhaps Christian Science actually had something to do with it.

It took forever to fall asleep.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 4

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, June 28

I woke up that morning eagerly looking forward to returning to Bikini Beach. I couldn't wait to see the girls. My dick was hard at the idea. I got up to use the bathroom, wincing at the ugly view of my hairless dick and balls. Ewwwww!

Ruth had spent the night at Daisy's, so she wasn't home for breakfast. She was going to spend the day as well, instead of going to Bikini Beach. But I still had to do the morning ritual of breakfast, the Mental Work, and the Lesson.

I found the note I left Thursday pinned to my swimming trunks: "IMPORTANT!! Bring swimming trunks to Bikini Beach!" What the heck?! I always brought my swimming trunks to Bikini Beach. What was I thinking when I wrote that? I tossed the note in the trash and gathered my trunks, towel, flip-flops, and sunscreen.

Ma and I were the only ones in the car as we drove to Bikini Beach, and standing in line with Ma was different without Ruth. We were mostly silent, just occasionally saying things.

Ma brought up the subject that would embarrass me the most. "You have made new friends here at Bikini Beach."

I blushed, looking down at the ground. I couldn't face Ma.

"I approve," she continued. "You've been very much a loner. It's good to have good friends, and you're getting more exercise. You know, those girls could become your BFFs. That's girl-talk these days: Best Friends Forever." She touched my chin with a fingertip and forced my head up to face her. "Tell me, Luke. Is there any special girl in particular?" she asked in a voice designed to humiliate me thoroughly.

"Um, they're all special," I said. Then I realized what I'd just said. My face was about to catch fire.

"Say, Luke? Would it be okay if I left you here and returned home? I have chores to do."

"Um, uh, sure," I answered dumbly, still brain-fried from the inquisition.

"Here's the admissions fee, and enough for lunch and whatever else you may need here." She opened her purse and pulled out several bills. "Call me around 5:00 and I'll come and pick you up."

"That's fine, Ma. Have a nice day, Ma." I said in a rapid patter.

"You enjoy your day, and I'll see you this evening." Ma hugged me briefly, as I froze again in embarrassment.

The line was extremely long on Saturday, of course. The lines through the turnstile were just as long, although moving much faster, for those already with passes. I wondered how I'd ever find the girls in this crowd, once I changed inside.

As I approached the sales booths, I got progressively more and more nervous about facing the saleslady on my own. Suppose I did or said something wrong? I was a boy trying to enter a girls' water park. Ma always got the passes before, and I never paid much attention to the transactions -- except for the admonition to shower. But now, I had to face the saleslady myself.

When I reached the ticket counter, I asked for a day pass. The saleslady was very pretty, which didn't help my nervousness one bit. I couldn't help looking down, away from her face. I noticed the name tag, and focused on it. Her name was Anya. No doubt I'd forget it as soon as I entered the park.

She told me, "We only have a limited set of passes for men and boys. I will have to check on availability." She turned away a moment, then turned back to me. "You're in luck. We have a day guest membership, and a special offer of a two-week membership for the price of three day memberships."

I didn't have the greater price on me. Even if I had the cash, I wasn't sure if Ma would like it if I got the two-week membership. So I stuck with the day membership.

"Remember to shower after you change, before entering the water park," she told me. That was always their policy.

I got in line for the turnstiles, and waited another endless time. Finally, I reached a turnstile, swiped my pass, and entered the park. I found the small men's changing room, changed into my swimming trunks, and showered.

After the shower, I inspected myself in the mirror. Ahhh! What the heck was wrong with me! I'd left myself a note reminding me to take a one-piece suit and wear that at Bikini Beach. This morning, I'd discarded the note, then forgot about it and took the bikini.

Oh well. At least no hair protruded out of my bikini bottoms. No, that wasn't quite true. A few strands were visible down at the bottom of my crotch, where I wasn't quite able to reach properly. Nobody should notice, unless she was looking carefully. It felt cool down there -- cool, crisp, and sexy. Yes, definitely an improvement, even though a couple nicked spots still itched. I felt much better about my bikini bottoms. I hooked my arms about my head -- yep, my underarms were properly shaved as well. My green and white striped bikini looked quite dashing on me, if I may brag a little.

I returned to my locker, got out my purse, and smothered myself in sunscreen. I was still peeling from last Saturday and I didn't want to make it worse.

I left the changing room, and entered the water park, hoping to find my friends.

"Hey Lucy!" came a familiar voice from a distance away. It was Vanessa. She looked hot in her rainbow skintight bikini, contrasting with her dark-chocolate skin. I ran over and she caught me in a hug, lifting me off my feet. She was tall and very strong. This was followed by hugs from Jen and Alice, both right next to her.

"So are the others here yet?" I asked.

"Carol's still in the changing room," replied Alice. "She'll be out shortly."

Both Carol and Becky emerged and ran up to us. We were all hugging and laughing. It was good to be together again. It would make for a perfect Bikini Beach day, no matter what else happened.

We went on a couple water rides, gossiping and chatting.

Around 10:45, I spotted a bulletin board with various events scheduled. I noticed a schedule of gymnastics classes -- all ages and levels at 11:00 and again at 2:00.

"Hey guys!" I called the others over. "Look at this."

"Gymnastics?" asked Jen.

"I attended a few of their classes a while back," said Becky. "You wanna try it?"

"I'm thinking of it." I started off toward the site. "By the way, any of you heard of Taekwondo?"

"Taekwondo's like karate," answered Vanessa. "They teach to fight by kicking and punching."

"I caught Ruth kicking and punching the air a couple times, and she called it Taekwondo. Where she got it, I haven't the foggiest."

"Probably from a friend," answered Vanessa. "Anyway, I'm in on gymnastics if you are. That's the advantage of classes here: they're included in the admissions fee. I understand the gym attached to the park is a recent addition, built only a few months ago.

So at 11:00, Vanessa, Alice, and I entered the gymnastics class. Unlike ballet and ordinary gymnastics classes, this class didn't require any special clothing. Everyone wore their regular Bikini Beach attire, mostly bikinis with a few tankinis, one-pieces, and thongs. Becky, Carol, and Jen watched us from the stands.

My six years of ballet definitely helped, although gymnastics was rather different. I was definitely flexible enough, having absolutely no problem with the splits, either front or center. I also had some experience in tumbling. Other things such as vaulting were completely new to me.

The arena was huge, with large bins of colored foam scraps to jump or fall into. There were bars to walk on, bars to vault over, bars to hang from,...

My legs were strong from ballet, although my arms were much less so. At least I was light and thin, so I could pull myself to a chin-up without too much trouble. Swinging myself up and over the top to a handstand on the bar was impossible, though.

Before we knew it, the hour was up. I'd worked up quite a sweat. As Vanessa, Alice, and I regrouped, the other three girls ran up and joined us, hugging us all.

"I gotta take a shower," Vanessa declared. "I'm so sweaty it's disgusting." Vanessa's dark skin gleamed and glistened all over with sweat. I felt rather grimy myself.

"I'll join you," I replied. Alice came as well.

"We'll wait outside," said Becky.

Inside the shower room, Vanessa removed her bikini before soaping herself all over. I noticed a nice, neat, vertical patch of hair above her pussy cleft. Alice removed her one-piece suit as well. I hesitated a moment, then took off my bikini, and soaped myself all over.

I made sure my bikini was thoroughly cleansed of the perspiration, before putting it back on. Meanwhile, Alice changed into a spare tankini.

We rejoined the other girls, and the six of us went to lunch. Carol's older sister Nancy joined us, with a friend. Nancy was sixteen, almost seventeen. Carol was slightly taller than Nancy, even though she was only fourteen. They looked very much alike. Nancy's friend Cindy was a very pretty blonde, blue-eyed girl, exactly Nancy's height.

Vanessa's comment, "Rather hungry, aren't we?" made me notice that I was wolfing my lunch down. It must have been the gymnastics class. I slowed down immediately, as Becky giggled in amusement.

Afterwards, we all, including Nancy and Cindy, found a nice area off to the side, spread out our towels, and sunbathed and napped for a while.

I awoke shrieking, brushing away a clammy touch.

"Very sorry," said Carol above me. "I noticed you were beginning to turn red, and I took the liberty of applying more sunscreen. I didn't mean..."

"Thanks," I hugged her. "I hope it isn't too late. I'm still peeling from before." I pulled off a bit of dead skin from my right shoulder, and took the bottle of sunscreen and applied it generously all over.

"Lucy," said Alice to my right. "You are tanner now. You won't burn or peel as much this time. As for me, though..." she didn't continue, but I could imagine, given the freckles covering her body.

"Hey, let's go on the Pipeline!" exclaimed Jen, jumping up. Cindy and Nancy joined us, and stayed with us the rest of the afternoon.

Sometime later, it was approaching 5:00. "Guys? I have to call home now. Ma's going to come pick me up."

Carol and Nancy leaned together to whisper, and then Carol said, "We could take you home, Lucy. Nancy drives; it won't be too far out of the way. It would be nice if you could stay until closing time, too."

We found a public phone nearby, and I phoned home.

"Lucy!" Ma answered the phone. "I'll be there in half an hour to pick you up."

"Ma? Carol's sister has offered to drive us home, so you won't have to make the trip."

"Let me speak with her a moment." I handed the phone to Nancy, and they talked a couple minutes.

When Nancy returned the phone to me, I queried, "Ma?"

"Lucy, they wish to stay until the park closes, and then take you to dinner. I okayed that, so I'll expect you home around 9:30."

I was happy with that, although just a bit nervous. I stuck to Carol like glue, to make sure I wouldn't get lost at any point. We spent a fun two-and-a-half hours that evening.

We returned to the changing room, and I changed back into the skirt and blouse I'd worn today, carefully rolling my bikini up in my towel.

Upon leaving Bikini Beach, we stopped at a small pizza joint and ordered a large supreme pizza. Clothed and hair-styled as they were, Nancy and Carol looked like identical twins. Both were in jeans, sandals, and tee-shirt with identical Chinese characters. Nancy's tee-shirt was green, while Carol's was red. Otherwise, their clothing was identical.

Nancy's friend Cindy was dressed similarly -- jeans, sandals, and gray tee-shirt telling us that, "My eyes are up there." Tall as all three girls were, that tee-shirt could have been speaking to me.

When they dropped me off at home, I invited them in for a moment. Ruth and Ma were both in the living room. Ruth was reading -- "Astronomy Magazine"? How bizarre! What a boring, adult, nerdy subject. Pa emerged from his home office to meet my friends.

They talked a little, and I was relieved that Pa didn't mention his distaste for girls in bikinis. Carol joined Ruth and talked some; apparently, she found that magazine interesting as well.

Eventually, they said goodbye and left, and Pa returned to his home-office. It was my bedtime and past Ruth's bedtime, so we both slipped upstairs. I was kicking myself for ignoring my note this morning, so I created several notes and put them at several locations to remind myself that I was to wear a one-piece swimsuit to Bikini Beach.

I went straight to bed, falling asleep instantly.

Sunday, June 29

Ooo, aya, ow! I was all sore and stiff. It wasn't just the new dosage of sun I'd received yesterday at Bikini Beach; it was that gymnastics class. Taekwondo didn't help much with gymnastics at all. I think I stretched and contorted parts of my body further than they had any right to go.

The memories were utterly embarrassing. I think I was the only one over half and under twice my age there who couldn't come close to doing the splits. And all the trouble I had with balance... To cop it all, I think I was the only boy in the class. I had a partner, an adult woman, and she spotted me during certain stands and flips. I found myself getting aroused and excited. My dick made a tent in my swimming trunks, noticeable to her and anyone else watching me. It reached the absolute nadir of mortification while I was stretching and bending my back on my hands and feet with the spotter's help. I orgasmed, soaking the front of my swimming trunks. The feeling buzzing through me was one of the most pleasurable and most intense I'd ever experienced. I'm sure everyone around me noticed. It stank to high heavens as well, with that distinct smell that shouted out to the world that I had just masturbated and jizzed. Sweat from the exercise only exaggerated the smell.

Thank goodness, the girls hadn't made fun of me. It seemed like they were all happy for my trying it in the first place. They'd all hugged me afterwards. Hmmm.... Being hugged by five girls at once.... Awaking to Carol massaging sunscreen on me... Spending the day playing and laughing with the five girls... I was on my stomach, thrusting back and forth with my legs, remembering the times with the girls, bikini-clad, hugging. My dick was pulsing, and the wonderful buzzing feeling swept over me again.

My underpants and pajamas felt icky afterwards. It had that same distinct smell as at the gym. Phew! It was Sunday Morning, too -- Church day. That was just all the more wrong.

Last night, I'd eaten out with Carol, Nancy, and Cindy. Then I'd invited them in and introduced them to Ma, Pa, and Ruth. Introducing three girls to my family was another of the most embarrassing things of my life. I wondered if they thought one of them -- or heaven forbid, all of them -- were my girlfriends. At least my family was nice to the girls. And Carol talked with Ruth about the latest Astronomy magazine.

At least they weren't in bikinis when I introduced them, unlike my recent nightmare.

I had to shower and put on the hated Sunday suit, and clean out my sleepwear.

I grabbed the Astronomy magazine, when I went down for breakfast. Ruth had been reading it last night, when we got home, and I wanted my opportunity to read it. I kept it with me at breakfast, and listening to the Mental Work, although I couldn't read it then. I brought it with me to Sunday School, reading it in the car and while waiting for things to begin.

Ruth sat down next to me. "Yesterday, when I first began reading the magazine, Ma grabbed it away. `Such a magazine is utterly inappropriate reading for a young girl!'" I couldn't help laughing at Ruth's imitation of Ma's scolding, and Ruth laughed as well. "Then Pa intervened. `Astronomy Magazine is appropriate for anyone interested in the subject, who has any chance of understanding it.' He returned the magazine to me. Remember last week, Mrs. Vancourt said some horrid anti-astronomy things?"

I recalled that rather well. Then Ma had scolded Ruth about respect for her elders. I didn't know what to say, other than, "That was terrible."

It was a bit strange seeing Ruth interested in astronomy, but more power to her. Come to think of it, though, Ruth had been strange all week.

In Sunday School, our teacher pointed out how, "God's spiritual Law is perfect, eternal, immutable. Mortal so-called laws of nature, are temporary. They always change." He reminded us that at one time, there were only seven planets. Then there were only six. Then seven again, then eight, and then there were nine. "We grew up learning that there were nine planets. Now they tell us that numerous planets orbit other stars." "They used to tell us that Jupiter had twelve moons. Now do you know how many moons Jupiter is supposed to have?" None of us answered that question. "It depend on who you ask. They'll all give you different numbers!"

Why? They are based on the illusion of material sense. The teacher illustrated how railroad tracks are parallel -- they never get closer together or farther apart. "Yet, when you look at them, they appear to get closer together the farther away they are."

I sensed that something was wrong with his argument, but I was at a loss for words to express it -- something about anything appearing smaller father away, material sense telling you that the railroad tracks are there in the first place. I just couldn't figure out how to put it in words.

He also told us about the water on the road, that never seems to get closer. "The water on the road is illusion." An integral part of Christian Science is that material senses are illusion, nothing more.

At one point, I noticed Ruth getting up, going over to a bookshelf, and pulling out a small book that looked like the Church Manual. I guessed she might be asking about something from the Mental Work.

I was relieved when we were all called together for the final part of Sunday School, and more or less forgot what the teacher taught us. When Sunday School ended, I went into the church auditorium and sat down with Astronomy Magazine. Ruth joined me, and I handed her the magazine.

She took it, but set it down, and turned back to me. She paused, looking like she wanted to say something. I waited, and eventually she spoke. "I asked Mrs. Vancourt about resisting or fighting mental malpractice as the Mental Work demands. Mrs. Vancourt was unfamiliar with Mrs. Eddy's words that I quoted from the Mental Work. I had to show her a passage in the Church Manual -- the duty to defend against aggressive mental suggestion. I didn't even attempt to search `Prose Works' for the other quotations."

"What did she say?"

"She first told me I was too young to worry about such things. I had to learn and remember the seven synonyms of God. Focus on God is Truth and God is Mind, and God can't be manipulated by mental malpractice. When I asked about Bikini Beach, she called it a place that encourages immodesty in girls and young ladies."

"That sounds like something Pa would say," I said, Pa's distaste for girls in bikinis and skimpy clothing very much in my mind.

"I asked her about changing people, changing their memories, making them forget -- that type of mental malpractice." Huh? I looked pointedly down at her. Was she accusing Bikini Beach of something? Ruth burst out laughing. "That's exactly how Mrs. Vancourt looked. She warned me to be careful about rumors and stories and accusations."

I didn't know what to say about that, but fortunately I didn't have to. Ruth said, "There's Ma and Pa out in the lobby, with Mrs. Vancourt." I looked, and indeed, there they were, along with an elderly woman, the church practitioner, Mrs. P--. "They're probably talking about me; I want to hear what they're saying."

Ruth slipped off the end of the bench, and I followed her. We went to the bench at the rear, and sat where we could barely hear them talking.

Mrs. P-- was talking, and made no attempt to tone down her voice. "Children her age aren't ready for instruction in animal magnetism, mesmerism, and the like. Teaching such things to a child induces fear, and fear brings on the very result we wish to avoid. Children are influenced most by their parents. Protect yourself against animal magnetism, and you shield your children."

Ma said, "I was raised with the daily Mental Work and the Lesson, as was my mother. We turned out all the better as Christian Scientists for it."

Mrs. Vancourt said, "Ruth appears to have heard the strange rumors about Bikini Beach, and seems to take those rumors seriously, accusing Bikini Beach of mental malpractice. I doubt strongly that she would not take those rumors seriously if not for your fear-inducing Mental Work."

Mrs. P-- said, "You may continue as you wish, Mrs. Cuttington, but I strongly urge you to stop the Mental Work, at least your grandmother's version that emphasizes mental malpractice."

Ma said, "You do realize that the mental malpractice passages of the Mental Work are Mrs. Eddy's words, Mrs. Eddy's warnings and admonitions, Mrs. Eddy's command to defend ourselves. In the Church Manual, we are told that it's the duty of every member to defend himself daily against aggressive mental suggestion. The Mental Work is an important part of that defense."

Pa said, "One thing I've noticed this past week, now that it's been brought up. Ruth has sometimes been looking angrily at you, Erin, during some of the malpractice sections. I'm not sure what it means, but with Ruth bringing it up in Sunday School, I'm concerned."

"Oh, I'm sure there's nothing to be concerned about," said Ma.

Ruth whispered in my ear, "Liar!"

"Oh, you're probably right," said Pa. "I was probably needlessly concerned."

Mrs. P-- said, "I'll work on it and see if I can see what the problem is."

Again, Ruth whispered, "I hope she does hit on the truth." Ruth grabbed me, and pulled me along the bench and back down to a bench closer to the front. "I don't want to whisper," she said when we sat down. "And I want to be sure to be here when Ma and Pa come down. You may have noticed that the Mental Work says nothing about how to fight mental malpractice."

"Well," I said with some hesitation, "it does tell us be ever on guard, to watch our thoughts `and see whether they lead you to God and into harmony with His true followers.'"

Ruth said, "Mrs. Eddy was talking of the mode of mental malpractice, `working so subtly that we mistake its suggestions for the impulses of our own thought'. The admonition is useless when, because of mental malpractice, you try to say something about a particular subject, and bingo -- you find yourself scrambling your words, no matter how hard you try otherwise."

"Another Mental Work passage," I said. "We are told to lean not on our strength, but to trust God."

"Actually, it's lean not on our understanding. However we would be told not to lean on our strength, but to trust God. This might be the only thing I can do. But I'm trying various things, hoping something works. As they said about Br'er Rabbit being caught in the trap, he had to stop using his feet and start using his head."

The organ music began. We turned and sat forward, and Ma and Pa joined us. The church service would begin shortly.

In church service, I sat back, closed my eyes, and daydreamed. After all, I'd already heard the Lesson-Sermon every day for the past week. My mind went over all sorts of things, mostly about Bikini Beach. My wonderful friends there, Jen and Alice's misfortunes, Ruth linking Bikini Beach with mental malpractice, her teacher mentioning rumors about Bikini Beach -- rumors I'd never heard of, especially since I hadn't heard of Bikini Beach until we went there.

That afternoon, after Sunday socialization with Ma and Sunday dinner, Ruth joined me going to the library. I dropped the books in the book return, saw Ruth off at the children's section, and walked a bit faster -- too eager, too excited, too scared -- to find "Forbidden Flowers."

I glanced about -- nobody around, good -- and slipped out "Forbidden Flowers" and read. I was so engrossed that I jumped practically out of my skin at a loud whisper of "Hey, Luke!" The book fell out of my hands.

Oh God, caught -- the mortification! It was Ruth, so perhaps she wouldn't understand what her big brother was reading. She set down the three or four books she was carrying, and picked up my book and glanced at it.

"Forbidden Flowers, eh?" she said, opening it and flipping through the pages. "A clue, Luke." She showed me a passage, one quite familiar to me -- in fact, one of my favorite passages from one of my favorite fantasies in the book. "Lick or tongue a girl's p-- down there, and she'll love you forever. Any girl, any age."

I stood there flabbergasted, my mouth opening and closing noiselessly. My little sister, my baby sister, Ruth?!

She continued confidentially, "She'll love being kissed and licked all over. Neck, breasts, elbows, knees... On the other hand..." She paused, turned to another fantasy, and pointed to an account involving an ice cube. "Many girls won't like this."

She giggled at my continued petrified reaction, slipped the book back into my shaking hands, while I continued to stand there in shock and embarrassment. "Meet you in an hour at the checkout stand, just before the library closes." She picked up her books and departed.

The book slid out of my hands, while I just stood there, feeling faint and immobile.

Once I was able to move, I picked the book back up, and slid it back into the shelf. I couldn't bear to look at the book any more. I made my way toward a table and flopped down in one of the chairs, and rested my head face-down on the table.

All sorts of thoughts ran through my mind. I was almost sick at being caught by my little sister. She knew what it really was -- and didn't hate me for it. I told myself I should be relieved, but somehow it being my little sister made it worse. I wasn't sure how I could ever face Ruth again. But I still had to get her home safely.

"The library will be closing in fifteen minutes," came the announcement. I got myself up, and made my way to the checkout desk to wait for Ruth, and collapsed onto a chair near the desk, feeling faint -- very much not looking forward to the meeting.

"Luke." Ruth's voice startled me. "You okay, Luke? You look a bit green. Take a long, slow, deep breath." I did as she told, and felt better -- then wondered how she knew about that. I knew it from test-taking, but how did she know? "It'll keep you from fainting at the very least." After a pause, she said, "I need you to check out these books for me." She handed me two books, both fantasy paperbacks. "They're from the adult section." You had to be thirteen to get an adult library card.

We checked out the books and left the library together in silence. I couldn't bear to look at her.

"Luke? Can we talk just a little? Please?" She took my hand in both of hers. "I think both of us agree that we don't want Ma and Pa to know anything about this."

"Definitely," I admitted, my voice shaking.

"And I have to admit that there was a time when I would have been mortified if you discovered me reading books like that. So I can guess how you feel. Being caught by anyone is bad enough. Discovering that your nine-year-old little sister knows about the subject -- well..."

For a moment I wondered. Was she really my nine-year-old little sister? There was the astronomy stuff as well. "I suppose I'll get over it," I conceded.

"I hope we can talk about this subject, and any other subject freely -- by ourselves of course. But if you want, we can agree never to mention this again."

Never is an awful long time, I thought. Turning to her, I said, "I don't want to say never, forever. I think I might want to talk about it some time. I agree, we should at least try to be able to talk about any subject. I'm feeling better now."

We spontaneously embraced, and I lifted her up so her head was level with mine, and she wrapped herself around me. This reminded me of the girls at Bikini Beach. We stood like that for a couple minutes before I let her down. We continued walking home, hand in hand. I felt a whole lot happier. I knew that things had changed between us.

Ruth brought up a completely different subject. "You know why I spent Friday night sleeping over with Daisy?"

"Well, you're best friends, and girls always have sleepovers," I answered.

"Well, yeah. But there was another reason. Daisy's dad is a lawyer. You told me about your friend's cousin being raped and murdered. I already knew about such a case, and was pretty sure that was it. I was also pretty sure they got the wrong man, from laziness and stupidity in their investigation.

"I wanted to persuade her dad to look into the case, and have DNA tested. You know what DNA is?"

"I heard of it in science class, but not really. It's a chemical in all of our cells. It determines inherited characteristics," I answered.

"Yes. Some parts are different for everyone," Ruth said. "DNA can be tested to see who was involved in the crime and who wasn't. I wanted Daisy's dad to get the crime scene DNA and suspect's DNA tested." Ruth sighed. "I don't know if I successfully persuaded him."

That was a lot to take in. We walked home in silence. And how did Ruth know about such things? The same way she knew about Astronomy, perhaps?

Monday, June 30

Despite Mrs. P--'s advice to the contrary, we listened to the Mental Work over breakfast. Then we had to record the new Lesson-Sermon for the week. After we listened to the Mental Work, Ma said, "Luke, I want you to record the Lesson with me, as Second Reader."

Oh, phooey. I knew better than to object. Ma always got what she wanted. Being Second Reader meant I had to read half the Responsive Reading and the Bible part of the Lesson. I had to stand up in front and perform in front of Ruth and Pa, and my voice would be heard every day this week.

Ma, playing the part of the First Reader, led off with, "Subject: God. Golden Text: Psalms. `God is the King of all the earth: sing ye praises with understanding.' Responsive Reading: Acts. `Paul stood in the midst of Mars' hill, and said, Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too superstitious.'"

It was my turn now. "`For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an altar with this inscription, TO THE UNKNOWN GOD. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.'"

We continued with the Responsive Reading, Ma and I alternating verses. Then we got to the Lesson proper, the readings from the Bible and "Science and Health."

I began with "Psalms: `Sing unto God, sing praises to his name: A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.' Isaiah: `I am the Lord, and there is none else, there is no God beside me: I girded thee, though thou hast not known me: As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you; and ye shall be comforted in Jerusalem.'" I continued on that way.

Then Ma continued with readings from "Science and Health." We alternated through six whole sections of this; it took about twenty-five minutes. I was quite relieved when it was over.

The rest of the day went as usual, piano lessons and Taekwondo for me, ballet for Ruth. Walking home with Ruth, I was still embarrassed from yesterday's events. We walked home together in silence, although she let me hold her hand. I couldn't think of anything to say, and it seemed as if she couldn't either.

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 5
Luke Gets a Two-Week Membership

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.

Tuesday, July 1

Of course, the next morning after breakfast, we had to listen to the Lesson on cassette. We had to listen to my voice croaking out the Biblical readings. Ugh! It sounded like I was speaking through my nose, and I was frequently pausing for breath. I just couldn't bear the sound. I kept cringing.

"Luke! Sit still and don't make faces," snapped Pa.

I sat back in my seat, eyes close, fuming. Damn you, Pa. I just might erase the lesson, I thought to myself, knowing I'd never work up the nerve to actually do it.

After Pa left for work, Ruth told me, "Ma's not taking us to Bikini Beach today. Instead, Helen's mom's coming to pick us up." Helen was Ruth's friend at Bikini Beach. I'd met her a couple times. She was a little black girl, about Ruth's age.

"They'll be here shortly," confirmed Ma. "So get ready."

I quickly went upstairs to my room. I found all the notes I'd left for myself Saturday, urging me to wear my swimming trunks to Bikini Beach. "Important!" "Please don't forget!" Like, what else would I wear? A bikini?

Maybe I was telling myself to put my swimming trunks on at home and actually wear them to Bikini Beach, rather than putting them on there. That was an idea. I'd be able to spend less time changing, and more time with my friends having fun. So I removed my jeans and put them in a bag to bring. I put on my swimming trunks and a pair of flip-flops, feeling a little embarrassed wearing those at home. I kept a tee-shirt on, though.

I was ready, carrying my bag containing pants, towel, sunscreen, and other necessary elements. I was very nervous about going with a strange family. I kept wondering if I'd inadvertently say or do something and get in trouble.

Ruth had changed as well, into a green-red striped one-piece swimsuit, a towel draped around her neck.

The doorbell rang, and Ma entered the living room with Helen and her mother. "Hi Helen!" exclaimed Ruth, giving her a hug. "Hi, Mrs. King."

"Hello," I greeted them both.

Ma spoke with Mrs. King a bit, and gave her some cash. "Have a good day, everyone!" said Ma, as I followed them out to their SUV. A couple other girls around Ruth and Helen's age were waiting impatiently, along with--

"Hey, Luke!" came a familiar voice as I climbed into the SUV.

"Vernon!" I was surprised to recognize him; I never knew he was Helen's older brother. Vernon was a cheerful, carefree, laid-back guy, about my height. I wished I were more like him.

We arrived at Bikini Beach in due course. Ruth, Helen, and the other girls chattered, and Vernon and I were talking when Vernon interrupted himself, calling out loudly, "Hey, Carol!"

I turned and looked where he faced, and spotted Carol walking with Nancy and Cindy toward the turnstile Carol looked around, and Vernon shouted out, "Carol, over here!" At that moment, Carol saw us and her radiant smile lit up the world. "Hi, guys!" she shouted.

She briefly turned to her sister and exchanged a few words, then approached us while her sister and Cindy went on. She looked so fine, in her white semi-tank-top with the Bikini-Beach logo. The tank-top went over her right shoulder, while a spaghetti strap went over her left shoulder. Her neon-green bikini showed through, and her bikini bottom crotch peeked out underneath. Her legs went on forever down to her feet in flip-flops.

But it was her winning face, with her brilliant smile, that caught me the most.

I vaguely heard a woman behind us in line saying something about Bikini Beach's purpose in letting girls enjoy themselves without being ogled by boys -- case in point here. I was all caught up in the wonderful vision of exotic loveliness, when Ruth pounded me on the shoulder. "Luke! You're drooling!"

"Oh, um, hi Carol!" I stammered, realizing only now how I'd been staring, and how my swimming trunks were poking out in a tent. I instinctively slammed my legs together, lowering my hands in a vain attempt to hide it.

Carol giggled. "Hey, Luke, I see you're happy to see me. It's wonderful to see you, too." She giggled again and hugged me. My arms automatically rose around her waist, and we pressed briefly against each other. This was a lot more familiar, and I felt as happy as I'd ever been.

The embrace was all too brief, before she pulled back and greeted Vernon with the same embrace. "Hi, Vernon!" I flamed with jealousy. I kept telling myself that we all routinely hugged each other as friends.

We chatted as the line inched forward. At one point, Carol said, "Nancy and I both have summer passes."

"Then why wait in line," asked Vernon, "when you can bypass it?"

"Oh, I like being with you guys, talking with you." Carol glanced at me, flashing a smile, and I felt giddy all over again.

Ruth broke in from her own conversation with the younger girls to say, "I have an eight-year membership, myself."

"Eight years!" How could Ma have done that for Ruth? Eight years was like, forever! Ruth was only nine years old now. So why did I need to get a day-pass every time we came to Bikini Beach? Ma, Ruth, and I could skip the line and go directly in. It was so unfair that Ruth got an eight-year membership and I didn't.

"Our two-week passes just finished," said Helen. "We're getting new ones. "Mom, can't I get a longer pass?"

"We'll see, dear."

We eventually reached the sales booth. Helen's mother asked about passes and memberships. I fogged out on the conversation that followed, which went on for some time and got rather boring. But Vernon got another two-week pass.

Mrs. King turned to me. "And how about you, Luke?"

I didn't know. "Ma always got me one-day passes. I think that I should stick to that. But a two-week membership seems much cheaper." I was scared that I'd get in trouble or something if I went for that. I was always scared of doing something wrong and getting in trouble. "Um, did Ma give you enough money?"

"Don't worry about it, darling," answered Mrs. King.

Hesitating, I decided. "How about the two-week pass?"

The saleslady gave me a card like a credit card -- much fancier than the usual day-pass. "Hold onto this carefully," the saleslady admonished me. "And remember to shower." Sigh, we were always told this.

After passing through the turnstile, we split up. Vernon and I went to the small men's changing room. I took off my tee-shirt, and placed my stuff in one of the lockers before going to the showers.

To my surprise, Vernon joined me in the shower nude. I instinctively shut my eyes and looked away. I soaped myself clean, carefully avoiding seeing my companion, and I noticed again the usual vague sense of pink.

I turned to Vanessa and asked, "Did you notice any, well, pink or something?" Now, I felt very silly asking. It was most likely my imagination, or a trick of the light.

"It always accompanies the change," Vanessa answered.

"Um, the change?" What was she talking about?

She looked down at me, and I looked down at myself and suddenly realized that -- "Dammit! I did it again!" Oops, I spoke it out loud, interrupting what Vanessa was about to say. I had to explain now, not recalling if I'd explained it before. "Pa hates it when girls wear bikinis, or go out in public in skimpy clothing. He grudgingly tolerates the one-piece swimsuit as needed for swimming, but hates bikinis.

"I keep wearing my bikini here," I continued in frustration. "I've been leaving myself notes to remind me. But I just ignore the notes. I just don't know what I was thinking! Ahhhhhhh!" I was really distressed now. Twice now, I'd ignored the notes I'd left for myself.

I burst into tears. Vanessa took me in her arms, held me against her, my head pressed up against her breasts. "Darling, darling,..." she repeated. "It's okay; it's okay, darling. You're at Bikini Beach now, and everything will turn out fine."

I finished crying at some point and pulled away.

"Let's go find the other girls," Vanessa said as we returned to our lockers. "I'm concerned about Jen," she continued, hooking her white top on. "I hope she stays with us, and we can help her." She stepped into her bikini bottom and slid it up. Meanwhile, I was covering myself carefully with sunscreen.

Alice, Becky, and Jen were outside chatting, and as we ran over to join them, Carol ran up from the opposite direction. We were all together again.

Vanessa, Alice, and I did the gymnastics thing again, and Becky joined us this time. I was surprised to discover that I had improved over last Saturday even without any practice. I spotted Ruth and Helen in the class, off in the distance. Of course, with years of ballet, it wasn't difficult for either of us. But it was definitely different.

After lunch, we were relaxing and soaking up the sun's rays, and casually chatting. Carol said, "I saw Randy Ling perform on TV Sunday night. I've preordered his new CD."

"Is he your latest crush, or something?" asked Alice.

"No!" Carol answered way too quickly. "He's only 12, for crying out loud!"

"That's like robbing the cradle, Carol," said Vanessa.

"Carol's in love with a 12-year-old! Carol's in love with a 12-year-old!" sang out Becky.

I had no idea who this Randy was, but I felt that they were teasing Carol just a bit too much. "He's on TV? What does he do?"

"He plays flute," answered Carol. "I watched him perform `The Incredible Flutist' -- I think that's what it was. He's really an incredible flutist."

"Okay, Carol's in love with a 12-year-old boy who plays the flute," said Alice. "What kind of boy plays the flute?"

"Tracy played flute in the band," said Becky.

"Tracy, your big brother?" asked Alice.

"Yeah. You interested in him?"

"No! I mean--" Alice broke off.

"He is rather cute. You just might like him," said Becky.

"Why don't you bring him here some time?" I asked Becky.

"I really doubt that Tracy would like being a girl," she said as she giggled.

I would have laughed along with everyone else at Becky's joke, if not for the sarcasm behind it. Of course, how could I have forgotten that this was a girls-only water park? I flushed and hid my face in embarrassment.

Jen said in a soft voice, "Who's to say?"

"He might actually enjoy it for a day," added Vanessa.

"Oh, stop it! Stop it, all of you!" I said. "Okay, I said something stupid. You don't have to pile it on! Becky, you were going to tell us about your brother and your family." Anything to get away from my awful blunder.

"Okay, okay," answered Becky. "Tracy's seventeen. He managed to graduate from high school a year early, and starts at Pacific Tech this fall."

"You sound almost as if you're in love with him," teased Alice.

"What? No-no-no-no-no-no-no, that's just squicky!" Becky pantomimed shoving something disgusting away. "Like I said, you might like him. In any case, I haven't seen him this summer since a couple weeks after graduation."

"Why not? What happened?" asked Jen softly. "Did he leave?"

"No," answered Becky. "For some reason, I have no idea why, my parents packed me up and sent me to stay with my aunt. It was she who introduced me to Bikini Beach, and, um..." she trailed off with a blush and a giggle.

"Then what?" I asked, curious.

"Nothing, nothing." She blushed even further, giggling all the more.

"I get it," said Alice. "You got a boyfriend, and --"

"No!"

"-- you had sex."

"No-no-no!" Becky burst into tears.

"Dear Becky," said Alice. "We are all friends here. You can confide in us. We'll only tease you a little bit."

This conversation was getting embarrassing -- naughty even. I just sat still, frozen, all nerves.

"No! I never had sex. Not even my breasts felt up." Becky cupped her breasts and swooshed them about, inadvertently liberating one from her bikini top. She tucked it back in. "Satisfied? Now how about you? Are you innocent and virginal, Alice?"

"Me? What does that have to do with anything."

"Alice, it's only fair, after what you did to Becky." Vanessa gave Alice a stern look.

"Okay, okay. I'm a virgin."

"How about you, Lucy?" asked Vanessa, as all eyes turned toward me.

"No! Never done it. Never even went out with a boy!" I wasn't going to mention my crush on my clarinet teacher, no, never.

"Carol?" We all looked at her. I was relieved at losing the attention, and curious about what she'd say.

"I'm a virgin," said Carol.

"Jen?" She was a year younger than the rest of us, and the newest member of our group. Surely she was innocent. She buried her face in her hands, and it looked like she was crying.

"Jen, you okay?" asked Carol. Jen continued to cry.

"We're all friends here, you don't have to hold it in," said Vanessa. She slid over to Jen, and put her arm around her.

"Okay, okay, I admit it. I've had... had... had," she bawled and buried her face in Vanessa's bosom.

"Sex, you mean?" asked Becky.

Her face still buried, Jen nodded.

"Your friend," said Carol. "The one in jail."

Jen nodded again, and slowly pulled her face away from Vanessa. "Tim was the greatest, the gentlest ever. He would never--" She took a sob. "Kill or r-r-r-rape anyone."

"Darling, darling," said Vanessa. "Tell us about Tim."

"It was last January. I was riding my bicycle to the library after school, and I slipped and fell and scraped myself. Tim came by and helped me. He carried both me and my bike to his apartment a couple blocks away, then helped me clean and bandage my scrapes.

"I stayed and talked a while with him. I think I fell in love right then. He took me home, me and my bike. My parents weren't happy about my meeting a black high-school senior, but they were nice about his treating my injuries."

Jen afterwards always stopped at his apartment after school, instead of the library, to do her homework. She began sneaking around, and they did other things together as well -- going to movies, playing games, walking in the park.

"I met his older brother Andy, as well. They shared the apartment. He was much older; he'd finished college and had a job. I overheard him warning Tim about `jailbait'."

"Hey, get to the good stuff!" said Becky. "Like when you got naked with him."

"Becky!" exclaimed Vanessa, as Jen turned her face down. I was shocked at Becky, myself.

"Well, what's the matter?" asked Becky defensively. "We're all practically naked now -- most of us." Becky nodded toward Alice in her one-piece swimsuit.

"Becky, that's not the point!" said Vanessa. "Go ahead, Jen. Tell it the way you want."

"It felt utterly cosy, the best thing ever, just sitting on his lap, his arms around me, kissing or watching a movie, his arm slipping under my skirt and ... and ... touching me ... there." Jen flushed.

This was definitely getting embarrassing. I briefly imagined someone touching me down there, feeling my face flush and burn. Becky giggled a quiet high-pitched giggle.

"Yes, we got naked," admitted Jen. "We started by playing a study game. If we got something wrong, we had to take off a piece of clothing. Later, we got naked every time I went to his apartment. His brother saw me naked a few times. Tim was very gentle with his hands, and his tongue was so ... so ... wonderful!" She flushed again and faced down.

Oh God, please! Imagining someone's tongue down there, I just couldn't. I breathed heavily, trying to properly catch my breath, and my bikini bottom got unnaturally wet.

"I fell in love with his ... his ... thing, you know."

"Dick," said Becky with a slight giggle. "Or cock. Did you use your mouth on it?"

Jen nodded hesitatingly.

"Did you swallow his cum?" Becky continued mischievously.

Alice said, "Ewwwww!" Vanessa said, "Becky!" and I felt about to heave, even as Jen nodded again.

"How did it taste?" asked Becky.

"So-so. Sort-of blah. A little salty. Eventually, after practice, it was emitted too far down my throat to taste."

"Deep-throating, eh? When did you fuck?" asked Becky.

I froze. Jen froze. Carol froze. Alice froze. Did the whole world suddenly freeze?

"Now that's enough!" snapped Vanessa as she whipped Becky on her side with her towel. Becky sprang to her feet, shouted "Hah!" and landed in a stance near Vanessa as if ready to fight. Vanessa stood up nonchalantly, and raised herself to her full height, towering over Becky.

"Please, please, I never meant to..." Jen jumped between Vanessa and Becky, looking about to cry. "He refused to ... fuck ... me until my birthday, last April. It was my thirteenth birthday present from him. Shortly after, we were caught."

"Oh, no!" said Becky.

"Mom and Dad caught me naked at his apartment. Mom stopped Dad from beating me, but I couldn't go out except for school. After school ended for the summer, I couldn't go out at all, except for summer Cantonese classes. I snuck out and visited his apartment once at night, but the night bike ride was so utterly scary, that I never did it again, even though it was so wonderful being with him. He took me home himself, so I didn't have to experience that night bike ride home again."

Then Tim was arrested for murder. It occurred to me that maybe Jen was better off without him. At least someone else got murdered, not her. But even I, as bubble-headed as I could be at times, knew better than to say that.

"Mom kept showing me articles about Tim. But he didn't do it, I just know it! He's not like that. He wouldn't hurt a fly! He's so gentle and kind."

Jen continued her story. She became virtually catatonic, not eating, barely ever moving. Someone suggested Bikini Beach for help, and here she was. "Thank you all -- Vanessa in particular."

We all lay still in absolute silence for the next minute. Then Becky, in tears, hugged her. We all did.

"I said it before, we've all said it before, and meant it. We're all friends here," said Vanessa.

"Just one thing, Vanessa," said Becky, pulling Vanessa off away from the rest of us. I barely heard the rest of it: "Don't ever swat me like that again."

We spent the rest of the afternoon rather soberly doing some of the restful, mild rides such as the river raft. I was feeling scared. First, Alice's cousin raped and murdered, then someone (if not Jen's friend) committing a murder.

All good things had to come to an end, and we had to go home. Vanessa's mom took Ruth and me home, and briefly came into the house with us. Ma wasn't home -- she had a Firmlove meeting that evening -- but Mrs. King spoke with Pa. I was nervous about Pa's reaction, and went down to the basement.

Turns out there was no reaction, not until Ma got back home later that evening. I was up in my room reading, when Ma knocked on the door.

"Yes, Ma?" I recognized Ma's knock, slower and lighter than Pa's knock, slower and heavier than Ruth's knock.

Ma entered with a serious expression. "Lucy, Mrs. King got you a two-week pass to Bikini Beach, is that right?"

My heart fluttered as I hesitatingly answered, "Yes." I knew I shouldn't have accepted a gift like that. I just knew it.

But after a moment, Ma said, "I think it was a splendid idea." It was almost as if she were talking to herself. "Someone said ... danger ... I didn't really pay attention. Also, it would do us all good to experience ... for two weeks. Yes... Yes..." Ma left the room nodding to herself.

What WAS that all about? What kind of danger? I jumped up and chased out of the room after Ma. "Ma, what kind of danger? Was I in any danger?"

"Lucy, of course I wouldn't put you in danger. Focus on the Truth. You are the God's perfect child, and God's perfect child cannot be put in danger. Accidents are unknown in Science."

"Oh." I returned to my room, not knowing what to think.

At that point, I remembered I meant to leave notes reminding me to wear a one-piece suit to Bikini Beach, not my contraband bikini. I spent the next several minutes jotting down notes, pinning them to every piece of swimwear, taping them to my closet doors and the door out of my room and various other places, including my mirror.

I was determined not to forget again.

The idea occurred to me. I shouldn't lean on my own strength -- strength of character in this case, and also strength of self-persuasion -- but trust in God instead. So I got out my Bible and "Science and Health" and began reading.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 6
Lucy's Next Few Days

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.

Wednesday, July 2

I woke up bright and early Wednesday morning, and got up and put on a bathrobe to cross the hallway for my shower. I had sharp bikini tan lines from Bikini Beach, and I didn't want Pa to see them (or to see me undressed in any case). Why did I keep wearing bikinis to Bikini Beach, even after leaving notes reminding me not to? Ruth always wore one-pieces, except that first day, now that I thought of it. Next time, I vowed for sure I would wear a one-piece. I checked; the notes I left last night were still there.

After my nice warm shower, I returned to my room and got out my clarinet. I closed my eyes and played a random, soothing melody, with the vision of Brandon's face floating in front of my eyes.

After about five minutes of this, I shook myself out of this reverie and got out Klose for serious practice.

Some time later, Ma knocked at my door and called out, "Breakfast time, Lucy!" I quickly disassembled my clarinet, running the swab through each piece. I put on my bathrobe, noticing for an instant that I'd been practicing in the nude, and went down for breakfast.

Over breakfast, we listened to the Mental Work. I listened avidly, with my eyes closed to minimize outside distractions. "It shall be the duty of every member of this church to defend himself daily against aggressive mental suggestion..." The danger of mental malpractice -- animal magnetism, mesmerism, hypnotism -- could not be overstated. All forms of mind-control were evil. It was important to defend oneself against these sins. "The mental malpractitioner is not and cannot be Christian Scientist. He is disloyal to God and man. He has every opportunity to mislead the human mind, and he uses it." "Stand porter at the door of thought."

Then came the Lesson-Sermon for the week. I was particularly excited because I had recorded the Bible part myself on Monday, playing the Second Reader to Ma's First Reader. It was a special privilege to do so, and I was rather proud of how I sounded on the tape.

Ruth went over to Daisy's house. I had to help Ma clean the house for an hour, but then I was allowed to go to the library. I had a few books to return. I packed up my ballet gear, as I wouldn't be returning home before ballet this afternoon.

In the young-adult section of the library, I looked left and right, and flushing, grabbed "Sassy" magazine and another which I had absolutely no idea to conceal the "Sassy."

I sat at a table, hoping against hope that nobody would see what I was reading. "Sassy" was such a naughty magazine, so contrary to Christian Science. It failed in both the moral issue and the emphasis on material sensual attractiveness. But I couldn't help myself; it was so exciting.

I saw an ad: "If you're old enough to get your period, you're old enough to forget your period. Period." The picture showed two girls whispering and giggling together in bed; it was an apparent sleepover. The girls looked about eleven. The ad was for tampons, but didn't say how tampons worked or what you did with them. I don't recall when I first heard of tampons, but only a few months ago did I actually find out what one did with a tampon. Oh God, actually sticking something up one's -- down there!

There was a section on "most embarrassing moments." A girl my age was with her boyfriend, standing in line at a beachfront booth. Her boyfriend, just behind her, noticed a bit of string dangling from the crotch of her swimsuit. He yanked on the string -- Ow!!! It was the string of her tampon, and it really hurt!

Another embarrassing moment happened to an eleven-year-old girl, when a boy pulled loose the bow-knot of her bikini bottoms, causing them to fall and exposing her naked bottom. I had limited sympathy for her, because she was already practically naked in her bikini.

There was an article about preteen girls and swimsuits and underwear. They noted a fashion newspaper headline, "Bikinis are Out; Thongs are In," -- ewwww! Imagine the string creeping up your behind! -- and questioned whether eleven- and twelve-year-old girls should wear thong underwear and swimwear, or stick to the conservative option of bikini wear.

I saw a picture of a red-headed freckled girl about my age, maybe a year older, in a neon-green bikini -- between two boys in swimming trunks. The boys' trunks went down below their knees, but the girl was practically naked. She reminded me of Alice, but was a lot taller and thinner. She had her arms around the boys' bare waists, and each boy had an arm around her -- as if they were both her boyfriends.

I cringed for the girl. Didn't she know how she was exposing herself? Not only would everyone at the beach see her, but anyone looking at this magazine as well. She was shamelessly exposing herself to the world!

I thought back about all my visits to Bikini Beach. I always wore my bikini, as brief as the one in the picture. And except for brief moments of self-consciousness, I hardly ever thought about it while being with my friends and having fun in the water. What was wrong with me, how could I ever have done such a thing? I felt so ashamed, so embarrassed. Pa was right about us girls wearing bikinis. At least Bikini Beach didn't have any boys there to see us.

I vowed again, this time for sure! I would wear one of my perfectly fine one-piece suits to Bikini Beach tomorrow.

Ruth and I both took the ballet class at 1:00. I had to make sure I arrived in time to change into my pink leotard, tights, and ballet shoes. I was already stretching at the barre when Ma arrived with Ruth.

As usual, Ma asked, "You sure you're okay with walking home together?"

"Yes, Ma. We'll be fine," Ruth answered with a hint of exasperation.

After class, the teacher informed us that there would be no class on Friday, July 4th. I slid my jeans on over my ballet outfit and changed my shoes, and walked home with Ruth.

Since today was Wednesday, we had the Wednesday evening meeting at church this evening. I always looked forward to the Wednesday evening testimony meetings, although I was scared of actually standing up and giving my own testimony in front of the congregation.

We arrived at church about 15 minutes early. Pa, Ruth, and I went to our usual bench while Ma did her usual socializing, before joining us just as the incidental organ music began.

The service opened with one of my favorite hymns, "Onward Christian Soldiers." The music was almost march-like, with the thrill of victory. Following the hymn, the First Reader read from the Bible and "Science and Health." It was one of several reading sets the Reader rotated through, so we eventually got familiar with the same readings every couple of months. Then we recited the Lord's Prayer and sang our second hymn, one I wasn't familiar with.

Most of the second part was dedicated to congregation members giving "testimonials of healing and remarks on Christian Science." While waiting in silence, I dreaded the moment I would have to get up and actually give a testimony myself. I heard shuffling in the back and saw the First Reader nod his head with a smile.

I listened carefully as an elderly woman gave her testimony. "I am so grateful for Christian Science, for the numerous demonstrations I've had over the years." She went on to discuss a "claim of a sudden pain in my head." Going to "Science and Health," she'd turned to a passage declaring the pleasures and pains of the material senses but illusion of Mortal Mind. "God is all-in-all, and man is the reflection of God. We can no more experience pain than God can. As soon as I thoroughly understood that, the pain ceased. I am so grateful for Christian Science and for Mary Baker Eddy's discovery."

"Thank you," acknowledged the First Reader, as the woman sat back down.

I had never given a testimony. It was simply too scary to stand up in front of the congregation, everyone's eyes on you, and talk. I was just too shy, too fearful. Ahah! came the epiphany That was Error, whispering in my ear, telling me that I was shy and fearful. I only had to work to correct -- no, exterminate -- the Error. The sentence, "The exterminator of Error is the great Truth that God is the only Mind."

A man stood up. "Radical reliance on God, not timid conservatism, Mrs. Eddy admonishes. This summer gives me the opportunity to truly understand what radical reliance means. My nine-year-old granddaughter, Beth, is visiting for the summer. Putting their trust in Materia Medica, her parents give Beth a daily injection for a claim which Materia Medica deems incurable -- injections claimed to simply let her live with the disease.

"Radical reliance on God means understanding fully that disease is but a false belief, and is unreal. Radical reliance cannot be mixed with Materia Medica, which only fuels the belief. I have taken Beth off the injections, and stopped her daily blood readings, and fully trust God to defeat the claim of disease once and for all. God is all-powerful and all-in-all, and will not fail."

The man sat down as the First Reader nodded, "Thank you." I should follow his example, and fully rely upon God. What was that passage with Jesus in the Bible? "Lord, I believe! Help thou me my unbelief!" Something like that.

We ended the service with a third hymn, one by Mary Baker Eddy herself. "It matters not what be thy lot,..." The service ended promptly with the end of the hymn.

I dozed off in the car, as we drove home. Once we got home, I made my way to my bedroom and just barely managed to get the good dress off before conking out in bed. I didn't bother with pajamas.

Thursday, July 3

We returned to Bikini Beach the next day. For once, I actually remembered my vow to wear a one-piece suit instead of my bikini! I didn't even need the notes I'd left, to remind me. Rolling it up in my towel and procuring my sunscreen and other lotions, I kept wondering why I'd kept wearing my bikini to Bikini Beach, when Pa was so dead against girls wearing bikinis. Pa didn't even know I had one. If he ever found out...

I thought of this quote from "Science and Health": "Children should obey their parents. Insubordination is an evil, blighting the budding of self-government." I can't say I was completely disobeying my parents by having and wearing a bikini. At least Ma was okay with it, for Bikini Beach at least. She knew and kept the secret from Pa.

But I really didn't want to deceive or disobey Pa. And what about Christian Science and disagreements between spouses? There is but one Mind, and disagreements are unknown in Science.

I made sure I had my Bikini Beach membership card, and met Vanessa and Helen and Mrs. King. Ruth and I were going with them again to Bikini Beach. Ruth had already changed into her swimsuit. Come to think of it, Ruth always wore one-piece suits, except for that very first day to Bikini Beach. Hmmm. Maybe she was afraid of forgetting her bikini top again.

In the women's changing room, as I slipped my one-piece suit on, I realized anew that I'd finally remembered to wear a one-piece instead of my bikini! "Yah!" I exclaimed, and suddenly blushed as everyone looked at me strangely. Alice and Carol must have heard me, because they immediately joined us. Alice exclaimed, "Oh, I just love your swimsuit! You look so cool!"

"It looks great on you," added Carol.

I blushed and looked down, not knowing what to say. I eventually came out with, "Pa hates it when girls wear bikinis. I don't even know why I've been wearing one every time before."

"Well, it is called Bikini Beach, you know," said Alice, a bit ironically in her own one-piece.

A little later, as we waited in line for one of the steep water slides, Becky and Jen joined us. So all six of us were together again; that was so wonderful!

Jen showed us a flier I'd seen scattered around, but didn't pay attention to. Tomorrow was July 4th, and Bikini Beach was going to celebrate, starting at three in the afternoon and continuing until ten at night.

"Is anyone coming tomorrow?" asked Jen.

"Me," answered Alice.

"Helen and I are singing in one of their choruses," said Vanessa.

That was interesting. "I hope I can come and see it," I said.

"I'll be there to see you for sure," said Becky.

"Me too!" added Alice.

"I really hope I can come," said Jen.

I kept wondering about Jen throughout the day, how she was dealing with the situation of her former boyfriend. I had no idea what to say, so I didn't say anything, and she never brought it up. I did notice Jen and Vanessa discreetly going off to the side together a few times. I wondered...

As we rode the Old Man River raft ride, I found myself thinking and dreaming about clarinet lessons tomorrow with Brandon. Of course, I never called him that to his face -- always Mr. Oregon. But a girl could dream, and I did.

"Earth to Lucy, come in Lucy!" called Alice. "We're getting off now. We're going to the wave pool."

"Say Lucy, who's Brandon?" asked Carol, as we headed off.

"Nobody," I quickly answered, blushing furiously.

"Mmm Hmmmm. `Nobody' has just given Lucy a serious sunburn then," said the usually shy Jen, surprising me.

"He's just my clarinet teacher," I tried to explain.

"Sure," giggled Becky. "JUST her clarinet teacher. I bet you wish he was something more."

"Stop it!" I cried.

"Darling," said Vanessa. "We're all friends here. You don't have to be embarrassed at anything. You can tell us about your crush."

I couldn't help blushing at that.

"Ooooooo, that clarinet teacher is making her blush," said Becky.

"And she calls him Brandon, not Mr. -- what's his last name?" added Jen.

"Oregon. Brandon Oregon, if you must know."

"The clarinet does have a sexy, romantic sound, in my view," said Carol.

Becky added, giggling, "And I've heard of kinky things a girl might do with a clarinet."

Oh God, that was just horrible! And it would be way too big to fit, too.

"That kind of stuff would make Lucy hate him, not fall in love with him," Vanessa said.

"I'm not in love with him!" I shouted angrily, utterly embarrassed, not wanting to admit my crush.

"The girl protests too much," said Alice.

"Lucy and Brandon up a tree," said Becky. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes love, then comes marriage. Then comes Junior in a baby carriage."

"Be careful, Lucy," said Vanessa. "Things don't always happen in that order."

"Brandon doesn't even know about it!" I was appalled at the idea.

"Oh? There's very much something there for Brandon not to know, eh?" said Alice. Oh God, it seems I'd accidentally admitted it!

"Darling," said Vanessa. "Nothing's wrong with having a crush."

"Yeah, it happens to everyone," added Alice.

"You should be proud," said Becky. "Shout it to the world! `You can't have him; he's mine!'"

Everyone else laughed at that. I didn't feel like laughing. In fact, I was almost crying with embarrassment.

"So how old is Brandon?" asked Carol.

"Does he have gray hair?" asked Becky.

"Old enough to be your grandfather?" suggested Jen.

"No, no, no! Brandon's not like that at all!"

"So tell us. Tell us everything!" said Becky.

"He only in his twenties, or maybe his early thirties." I wished they would stop going on about this!

"So not a distinguished gray-haired old man then," said Becky. "Black hair? Tall, dark, and handsome?"

"Has he met your parents yet?" asked Alice.

"Of course! He's --"

"So what do they think of him as your boyfriend?" interrupted Becky.

"As I was about to say," I huffed in a loud voice, punctuating every syllable, hoping to avoid bursting in tears, "He has met my parents because he's my clarinet teacher. Got it?" I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Don't worry about us," said Carol, taking me into her arms and pressing my head up against her bosom. Funny, that was usually Vanessa's role. "We're all girls here. We like to tease, and we like anything to do with boys and romance. It's all in fun; it's just teasing. Right girls?" she shouted out to everyone.

"Right!" the other four answered in unison.

"We're all friends here," added Vanessa.

"So everyone, into the water!" shouted Becky, and we all jumped up and ran for the nearby pool.

I came up to the surface next to Carol, who was treading water and tying her bikini top back on. "I got just a bit over-enthusiastic there," she said. "Hey, race-ya to the other side!" She beat me handily, being the faster swimmer, but I had fun.

Eventually, the day ended. Vanessa's mom dropped Ruth and me off at home. The relief of not potentially being caught by Pa having worn a bikini was a major weight off my shoulders, even though I still had bikini tan lines from earlier.

We got home shortly before Ruth's bedtime, so I only got to practice a little on the clarinet. Afterwards, I practiced a half-hour on the piano in the living room. The piano teacher, Mrs. Prudence, was a nice old lady, and I didn't want to disappoint her.

Then I took my evening bath, and carefully shaved myself all over. Stubble was beginning to grow in, and I was itching just a bit, particularly in my crotch. I was feeling sexy about Brandon and seeing him tomorrow.

Friday, July 4

"Let's hear the F-major scale, the low octave," Brandon instructed. F... F... F... oh yes, fingers covered all holes, and one of the pinky keys. I put my clarinet to my mouth -- nothing came out. I blew harder -- still nothing.

"Okay, let's try playing C," said Brandon, obviously disappointed. That was just my left hand, covering all notes. I knew it like I knew my own name. I blew into the clarinet -- nothing again. My breath seemed caught in my throat.

"Okay, how about the open G." No keys pressed, no holes covered. Just blow in while supporting the clarinet with my right thumb. I briefly adjusted my bikini bottom with my free left hand, while attempting to blow the note.

I'd come to clarinet lessons directly from Bikini Beach. I'd never been so humiliated in my life, botching the clarinet in my bikini in front of Brandon. In my bikini! Oh-my-God-no-no-can't-be!

-- I awoke. Oh, gads, what a nightmare! I sat up in bed and breathed deeply a couple times. Oh, Brandon seeing me in a bikini, seeing me mangle the clarinet in a bikini! I got up and went to the bathroom to relieve myself, then returned to bed.

Whew! That was only a nightmare... only a nightmare... only a nightmare, I thought in relief as I joined Brandon in the clarinet lesson room. I sat down, assembled my clarinet, and absently adjusted my bikini top--

-- Oh God! I woke up again. Brandon seeing me in a bikini again. At least I hadn't bombed the clarinet playing this time. I slid further down between my sheets, squeezing my legs together, reveling in my shaved pubes. Maybe I might let Brandon see me wearing a bikini some time -- oh heavens, no!

The Mental Work had just finished, and I was happy to be allowed to read out loud and record the Lesson Sermon. I stood up in front of and Ma, Pa, Ruth, with the Bible and "Science and Health" in front of me. While reading, I noticed my piano teacher, Mrs. Prudence, off to the side. I recognized two old ladies and a middle-aged man in the back of the church. While turning to the next entry in the Bible, I absently pulled down on my bikini bottom--

-- Oh SHIIIIIITTTTTT! I burst into tears, compounding the cold sweat on the pillow and sheets, bawling out my heart against a world of nightmares -- Pa seeing me in a bikini, Mrs. Prudence seeing me in a bikini, the whole damn congregation seeing me up front in a bikini!

I found a dry region on my bed, and lay awake for I don't know how long. I woke to Ma's knock at the door, calling me to breakfast. I had no time to get dressed; I slipped on a robe and went downstairs. Breakfast was followed by the usual Mental Work and Lesson on cassette. I listened more avidly than usual -- I had recorded the Bible part myself -- standing porter at the door of thought and keeping my mind off nightmares. I admit to being a bit proud of my own work in recording the Lesson.

It didn't quite work. The thought of Brandon seeing me in a bikini got through to me, and I pressed my legs together and stretched them out, pointing my toes and leaning forward, with my hands between my knees. It felt good and exciting. I hoped Ma and Pa didn't notice.

After the Lesson, I went upstairs to get dressed, but instead I conked out on the bed for a couple hours.

I wanted to wear something pretty for clarinet lessons today, but I didn't want to embarrass myself. I picked out an olive sleeveless blouse with a matching darker-green skirt that reached halfway down my thighs, and also a sky-blue blouse with a navy-blue skirt ending a few inches above my knees when I stood. I couldn't decide which.

Of course, I couldn't wear either of those to Sunday School and church, or every day to dinner; they were inappropriately revealing. I had a few of these outfits, that I purchased on a whim, but hardly ever wore.

I also tried on an old favorite red skirt, that I couldn't bear to give to the Salvation Army. It was two years old. When I tried it on, it was tight around my hips and ended less than an inch below my crotch. Putting on a matching tank top, I posed and examined myself in the mirror. No, I definitely couldn't wear this. Not outside, not anywhere anyone could see me. Not only was I showing way too much leg, not only would I flash everyone upon sitting down, but I also couldn't trust the material not to split.

No, I couldn't wear that to clarinet lessons. I could only save it for Ruth when she got older. I decided on the green set. I put on a pair of anklet white socks and black flats, and slipped on a couple tiny diamond earrings for good measure.

I was a bit nervous about Ma seeing me in this, and terrified of Pa seeing me. I wondered how to get out of the house, with Pa staying home from work for July 4th vacation. I decided to practice one last time on the clarinet before today's lesson.

I kept practicing, but I stopped when I realized I had been practicing a full hour. I didn't want to tire out my lips for the lesson today. I still had a couple hours. I stuffed my clarinet and my notebook with my now-shredded Klose, long with other things I needed, into my knapsack. At least I didn't need my ballet uniform.

Nervously venturing out of my room, where Pa might see me, I paused at the top of the stairs, hearing Ma and Pa talking loudly. Pa was saying, "-- go to Bikini Beach if you want. Take Ruth and Lucy. I'll just stay home, watch baseball and the fireworks on TV, maybe listen to the music, and perhaps get a little work done."

While I was waiting for Ma and Pa to end their argument, Ruth slipped behind me. "So it appears we're going to Bikini Beach today, for July 4th Celebration."

"Yeah. You don't seem very excited, though, Ruth."

"I'm pretty much past caring by now. I can't change it. Only Ma even remembers. Anyway, I must admit that Bikini Beach is lots of fun, and I've made many friends there. I'm sure you're quite excited about it, Lucy."

Ruth was sounding strange again. I just couldn't understand her at times. Like, wasn't the whole point of Bikini Beach to have lots of fun and make friends?

"You look really pretty, Lucy," Ruth continued. "Is there a particular reason you're all dressed up?"

"No-no-no-no-no," I quickly replied. "No reason at all. I just decided to dress up today."

By now, the argument had wound down and Pa had gone to his office. Ruth and I went downstairs. "Ma, are we really going to Bikini Beach today for the fireworks?"

"Yes, dear. We'll go directly there from your lessons, so bring your swimming gear with you. And Lucy, I'm happy to see you dress up. You should do it more often."

I was glad Ma didn't suspect anything.

Again, I remembered I wanted to wear only one-piece swimsuits to Bikini Beach. I had two, in addition to my contraband bikini. I'd worn one yesterday, so I picked the other for today.

We stopped for a salad lunch at the deli, at around 11:00. While waiting in line, I spotted a familiar figure sitting alone. Carol. "Ma, may I go and join my friend over there?"

"Yes you may. I'll order a salad bar for you."

I went over. Sure enough, it was Carol from Bikini Beach.

"Hey, Carol!"

She looked up. "Hey, Lucy!" She set down her sandwich and stood up. We hugged briefly. As we pulled apart, she looked me up and down. "Wow, you look wonderful!" I giggled and blushed a little. "Dressed up for something special?"

"Na, I just decided to dress up," I said as nonchalantly as I could. Her yellow tee-shirt displayed a vague picture of rows and columns of symbols in blocks of various colors. "I like your tee-shirt. It's a bit nerdy; it suits you. I can't remember, but I think I've seen it before.

"It's the periodic table of the elements. You know, hydrogen, helium, lithium, beryllium--"

"Enough, you lost me! Anyway, it's cute on you." I changed the subject. "I have clarinet lesson at twelve."

"Oooo, the mysterious Brandon! I understand now." Carol glanced at my skirt and gave a knowing cockeyed smile. I blushed furiously.

"Shhhh! Ma and Ruth are here." I quickly glanced over my shoulder. Ma and Ruth were at the cash register.

"Your mom probably suspects something. They're usually quite observant. And we tend to be a lot more transparent about things than we think." I sucked in my breath. It would be so embarrassing if Ma or Pa knew anything, or even suspected anything. Carol continued, "And I've heard that little sisters can be surprisingly perceptive about such things."

"And how!" I thought back to the time Ruth caught me in the library.

"Hello, Mrs. Cuttington," Carol politely greeted Ma, who had just joined us with Ruth. "Hi Ruth!"

"Hello, I'm pleased to meet one of Lucy's friends from Bikini Beach," answered Ma. "Unfortunately, I'm sorry I can't remember your name."

"She's Carol," said Ruth.

"She visited us one evening with her sister Nancy, and her sister's friend." I reminded Ma.

"Hey, are you coming to Bikini Beach July 4th celebration tonight?" Carol asked. "It'll be great! Vanessa's singing in a chorus."

"Indeed we are," answered Ma.

Ruth reappeared with a plate of pasta and other stuff from the salad bar. "We're going to see Helen sing too," she said.

"I'll be back; I'm getting my lunch." I went to the salad bar and selected various items.

We spent the next half-hour chatting and eating. We pushed two tables together when Carol's sister Nancy joined us with her friend Cindy. Eventually, Ruth and Ma got up. "I have to take Ruth to her piano lesson now." Mrs. Prudence taught piano in her own home, which was several blocks from the mall. In contrast, clarinet lessons were held in a small music store in the mall.

We all packed up and left the deli together. "I'm going to clarinet lesson now," I said.

"I'll go with you," Carol said. She turned to her sister. "Bruella's at one?"

Shandy's Music was a bit of a walk from the deli, but we made it there by 11:50. I couldn't help breathing heavier as I approached. I was getting really nervous and excited. When we arrived, Carol and i sat on a bench next to the hallway leading to the lesson rooms. I tried to put aside my breathlessness and nerves by starting my preparation. I could hear saxophone sounds from the current lesson.

Carol watched me curiously, so I explained a little. "I like to soak my reeds a long time." I picked out a reed and opened a jar of distilled water and pressed the reed up against the side. Setting the jar down, I assembled my clarinet. I blew through it reedlessly to warm it up. "Wind instruments get a bit sharper when they warm. Unlike violins, which flatten."

"I've noticed that. I play both the flute and the violin," answered Carol.

I fingered a couple exercises from Klose, still waiting for my reed to soak.

"My, that book must have seen a lot of use," declared Carol, when I pulled it from my knapsack.

"Definitely." I'd used it so much the past year that it had repeatedly come apart. It was simpler to put it in a three-ring binder.

HE appeared shortly, along with a girl carrying her saxophone case and music, having just finished her lesson "Hello Lucy."

"Hi B-b-b- Mr. Oregon," I stammered breathlessly. "This is my friend Carol."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. Oregon," Carol stood up to shake hands. Brandon greeted her in turn, as I gathered up my stuff.

As we walked to the lesson room, Brandon commented, "I see that as usual, you've prepared you're setup. And I must say, you look wonderful all dressed up." I turned my head away, so he couldn't see my smile and blush of happiness. "Is it for a special July 4th function today?"

"Oh, nothing in particular." I could hardly admit it was for him. I attached the reed to the mouthpiece as he did the same for his clarinet, and warmed up with a few random notes. I slipped in the opening phrase of "You Are My Sunshine," both hoping and fearing he would notice.

Wearing a miniskirt, I had to keep my knees close together; crossing my legs while playing the clarinet was not an option. I leaned forward just a bit and aimed my clarinet a little higher than usual, so that the bell extended above and beyond my knees.

We played a bunch of short 16th-note exercises, near the end of pages 16 and 17 of Klose. At one point, Brandon paused briefly to comment, "I think your posture is quite good now, Lucy. That's a good way to sit."

I smiled, and couldn't help giggling a little at Brandon's compliment.

We also played a few scales, in keys such as E-major and B-major. They were pretty hard, although I managed. I'd long ago realized I'd grown way too accustomed to the left-hand low E and F#, and the right-hand low F. With these scales, I had to use the right-hand for low E and the corresponding middle-staff B. It felt strange.

We played a few longer duets, about half-page to full-page long. They were very hard. I always played the top stanza, with Brandon on the bottom stanza. The triplet 16th-note variation was particularly difficult, and I had to take it slow.

As the lesson ended and I dismantled my clarinet, Brandon assigned me some new passages, keeping a couple of the old ones, including the last few measures of pages 16 and 17. "You are a good player, Lucy. I'll see you next week."

I quivered inside at his compliment and smile.

"Thank you Mr. Oregon. Have a wonderful July 4th!"

"I will. I'm performing this afternoon and this evening in the celebration."

I practically ran out of the room in my excitement, and down the hallway to the store proper. Carol was still there, to my surprise. She was browsing through some folders of music.

"Lucy! Your playing is wonderful! You gotta join the band in high school this fall."

"I probably will, although I'm scared. I think it'll be very hard. I hope I'm good enough."

"You are for sure. Nancy plays clarinet in the band, and you're better than her. She's gonna be a senior this fall."

"What about you, Carol? Are you going to play?"

"I haven't decided yet, between band and orchestra."

"It would be cool being in the band together!"

"Or maybe you could play clarinet for orchestra. Nancy tells me that they take orchestra wind players directly from band."

We talked a bit more, then Carol said, "I have to meet Nancy and Cindy at Bruella's now. Wanna join me?"

"Sure. Let me tell the people here, so Ma knows where to find me."

Bruella's wasn't very far, and we made it there in good time. Nancy was there with her friend Cindy, trying on swimsuits. Cindy had a new bikini on, and she turned to us as we approached. "Hey Carol, Lucy! What do you think? Good enough for the celebration today?"

"You look wonderful," answered Carol.

I echoed the sentiment. She certainly looked hot; the sky-blue solid color matched well her dazzling blonde hair. Nevertheless, I felt a little uncomfortable for her, displaying herself in public that way. The strap of her bikini bottom around her waist was just a thin string, tied in bow knots on either side of her hips. But I kept my reservations to myself.

Ma and Ruth showed up about fifteen minutes later. "Thank you for leaving the message," said Ma. As our group and Carol's group were both leaving for Bikini Beach shortly, Ma invited them to join us. They agreed; that would be more convenient than taking the bus.

We all managed to squeeze in the car. Ruth had to sit on my lap. I got the sense that she seemed a little embarrassed sitting on my lap. True, we hadn't done it in several months, but we used to do it all the time. Why was she reluctant or embarrassed now?

The Bikini Beach parking lot was already half full when we arrived. This was apparently going to be a huge celebration this year. The vast majority of visitors were women and girls, but a few men and boys came with their families. It weirded me out, imagining how it would be for the boys, being surrounded by women and girls on all sides.

All six of us already had membership passes, so we could skip the incredibly long lines for the ticket booths. We only had to enter the moderately long lines for those already with passes. Carol, Nancy, and Cindy all had summer memberships, as did Ma, I learned to my consternation. Ruth, of course, had her eight-year membership, and I had my measly two-week membership. That was just so unfair, especially as Ruth seemed a bit sour on Bikini Beach! I always had to get a single-day pass, until Vanessa's mom got me the two-week pass.

"Why couldn't I get the summer pass, the same as you, Ma, even if you didn't wish to get me Ruth's eight-year pass?"

"I can't explain it, Lucy. But we had to do it this way with you, believe me." That was most unsatisfying. Ma refused to say anything further. Ruth looked like she wanted to say something, but remained silent after a glance from Ma.

They were selling swimwear just inside the turnstiles: black, with red, white, and blue stars scattered to resemble a fireworks bloom in the form of the Bikini Beach logo. Nearly everyone was buying them. One-piece suits and tankinis went for $5.00, bikinis and thongs for $3.00. Children's sizes were a dollar less.

I even noticed a stack of one-piece thong suits. One of the salesladies wore one, her bottom completely exposed as the strip went down her crack. Carol said, "You should try one of those."

"What? Ewww!" Imagine that narrow strip creeping up my behind! I didn't imagine Pa liking that any more than he liked bikinis, either, what with my behind completely exposed.

We slid our passes through the turnstiles, and Ma picked up and examined the suits. "Quality workmanship, definitely." So, even though we had already brought our own suits, we all got the new Bikini Beach ones. Ruth and I got one-pieces. Ma got a tankini, a bit to my surprise. Carol and Nancy both got those thong one-pieces, and Cindy got a thong bikini. It was very much a steal, for things normally costing $15 to $40 a piece!

We entered the women's changing facilities, which now seemed a whole lot bigger than before. It couldn't be, I know, but it seemed like it. We quickly changed into our new swimsuits, and went out to join the celebration.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 7
The Bikini Beach July 4th Celebration

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 4th, Mid-Afternoon

Bikini Beach was all dolled up for July 4th -- flags everywhere, and red, white, and blue colors pervading.

"Hey, Helen!" shouted Ruth, as she ran off to the left. Sure enough, Helen, Vanessa, their mom, and another woman I didn't recognize were there. All of us followed Ruth to meet their family.

Vanessa greeted us with hugs. "Hey Lucy, Carol! Wow, Carol, that swimsuit looks awesome!" I agreed. I couldn't help repeatedly glancing at her from behind, at her completely bare bottom. I'd never seen a swimsuit like that before. I was reminded of Vanessa's description the first time I came her, of Bikini Beach as a girls' refuge from boys' ogling eyes -- and especially of Becky's mirthful reaction.

Vanessa gestured toward the unfamiliar woman. "I don't think you've met--"

"Vanessa!" interrupted the woman.

"Mom's friend," Vanessa ended in a bit of a downer tone. I got the feeling she was going to say something different.

"Hey," continued Vanessa. "Helen and I have to be at the Tropical Pavilion this evening at seven, to meet the chorus and prepare for the performance. So let's look around and see what they've done to this place."

"Yes, let's!" echoed a familiar voice. Jen was there, just behind us.

Off to the side, I noticed a lot of tables. They weren't there on ordinary days. "Let's go check those out," I suggested.

The tables were all about career opportunities for women. Numerous industries were represented, so many that I was lost in all the visual noise. All the booths were manned by women dressed in pretty much the same pattern: they wore overlarge tee-shirts representing the organization they were from, over black bikinis. I could see through some white tee-shirts that the black bikinis were July 4th ones, the kind sold at the entrance.

"Hey, there's NASA," said Alice.

"Yeah, I wanna see them," said Carol.

We followed them to NASA's table. Carol, Alice, and Becky talked with the two representatives there. I missed out on most of what they said -- understood it as I heard it, but forgot afterwards. They mentioned returning to the moon and an ultimate trip to Mars. One of them did warn us that, "Actual astronauts are a microscopic minority of NASA engineers, scientists, and technicians." Everyone else was in some position of support. Design engineers, communications specialists -- "Testing engineers are critically important."

Just as we finished talking to or listening to the NASA women and backed away, Ruth startled me and asked out of the blue, "Lucy, have you thought of what you'll study in high school?" I didn't even notice her following me!

But I answered. "Well, I thought of a few things. Band, definitely. Algebra One in ninth grade would satisfy my math requirement. Then there's ninth-grade science, and in tenth grade, the three-way science course would satisfy my science requirement, although I might take the single trimester environmental issues class later as an elective. Then--"

Ruth interrupted. "I kinda thought, hoped, you would be more interested in science and math. Why not take physics, chemistry, possibly biology -- the regular year-long courses, I mean. Maybe even an AP course. The environmental science course as well, of course. And continue with math every year."

Carol, Alice, Becky -- all of us exchanged glances. "That's almost exactly my plan for math and science in high school," said Carol. "I've already taken Algebra One, in eighth grade. Did you read my mind or something?"

"No, that's just pretty much what anyone studies intending to go into science or engineering."

"I knew that from Tracy," said Becky. "But how did you know?"

"I've already finished third grade," answered Ruth.

Huh? I was thrown such a loop by Ruth's answer that I couldn't think. Ruth herself winced, but then continued, "I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth. I'll just leave it at that."

We all looked at each other -- had Ruth gone mad or something? Except for Vanessa, who had a knowing expression on her face, as if she just realized something or figured something out.

Ruth wasn't saying anything further.

We looked around. I wasn't interested in the military, which had five tables set up in a row: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and National Guard. Some of the other girls went to their tables. But the CIA was near them. I thought it might be interesting and exciting to go into spying; I would help subvert and defeat the bad dictatorships of the world.

I didn't really know what to ask. The woman there said, "Excited adolescents motivated by a sense of heroism and excitement will find themselves very disappointed." She handed me some literature. "We want you to enter with your eyes open. You have to know how to keep a secret."

Next to the CIA table was the Peace Corps, advertized as "The Toughest Job You'll Ever Love." Ruth was there now. I stepped over there, and Ruth showed me a handout they gave her. "The woman there admonished me not to even think of joining them, or doing anything else, until I'd finished high school with the best education I could get. Very good advice, definitely. Applies to the CIA as well; the military, too.

"But notice a subtle subversion here." Ruth opened the handout. "The Peace Corps not only does not require a security clearance, they look upon one with suspicion. They respect the concerns and fears of many countries that the Peace Corps is used as a cover for spying or sabotage. They single out the CIA in particular: if you have ever been in the CIA, you will probably be barred for life from the Peace Corps."

That didn't seem fair. But Ruth continued, "Normally, they would put up a table for a career, but there would be no table for anyone with information telling you that it would not be a good idea to go into that career. For example, if someone put a table for nightclub dancer, or escort service, or, oh, I dunno, pleasure palace attendant." Pleasure palace? Something like amusement park or Bikini Beach? I must have looked blank, as Ruth continued, "Let's not pussyfoot around the bush. Someone comes from Reno or Las Vegas and sets up a prostitution table here. Nobody gets to set up a table to suggest that maybe prostitution is not such a good idea."

"But nobody's put up a table here for ... prostitution, did they?" This conversation was distinctly uncomfortable. And what did Ruth know about prostitution?

"No, but they did for the military. Several tables. And nobody here to advertize `Full Metal Jacket' or to tell you that `all you can be' might just be murderous thug or cannon fodder. That would also have been the case for the CIA, except that the Peace Corps has a statement buried in its requirements, suggesting that the CIA might not be such a good idea."

Hmm. Interesting notion. And Ruth was sounding adult again. *WHAT* was going on?

I continued to look around for a while, getting separated from both the girls and Ruth, as more and more people came to browse around.

"I can't believe I'm debating a little girl!" shrieked a loud projected piercing voice. I looked around, and everyone else looked around too. I wasn't sure even where the voice came from. "Little girl, we put our lives on the line to keep the community safe! Just go back home, go to school, learn something about the subject."

I felt very unpleasant about it, but at least it didn't have anything to do with me. I kept looking around at the various careers available, until someone grabbed my hand. "Lucy." It was Ruth! "Let's get out of here. I can't stand this any more." She was almost in tears.

We worked our way out of the tables. "That idiot cop shrieked at me," Ruth continued as we left along one of the trails. Her tears had changed to fury.

"Oh my goodness, that was you she was shouting at!"

"She thought that making someone confess was perfectly fine, while DNA was just something to get criminals off scott free. Just like Ma."

"Ma!?! What makes you say that?"

"Personal imagination. Grrrrr... Lucy, whenever I say something idiotic, please remember, `I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth.'"

I shook my head. "Ruth, I suppose I'll understand that someday..."

"Meanwhile, let's go have fun together. You know, we never did anything together here at Bikini Beach, just the two of us."

We were following the trail to the South Sea Adventures.

"You're right! We should do this more often. I've been so involved with my friends here," I said.

"It's really tempting to call that cop a pig," Ruth said. "I told her it's frame-up, when a bunch of officers terrorize a suspect held in a back room, to make him confess. She said I didn't know what I was talking about.

"I said, `I most certainly don't,' which wasn't what I intended to say." Ruth growled, then continued. "But I used it statistically, and continued: light shining in his eyes, keeping him awake for days, when he's dying to sleep, slapping him, giving him a fake lie-detector test and declaring he failed it. I can't remember everything I said. Threatening him with a gun.

"She angrily told me that they know from education and experience what it takes to get a criminal to confess to his crimes. I broke in -- it gets an innocent person to confess as well. Why not use DNA testing, when the crime is something like rape and murder? She retorted that DNA was just something invented by defense attorneys to get criminals off. That's when I called her a liar.

"And that's when she let out her earth-shattering shriek," concluded Ruth.

"Oh, my goodness!" We paused, and I gave her a hug. I kept wondering, not for the first time. Was this really my little sister, Ruth? However was she able to talk like that?

At that point, we reached the Lagoon. We swam and splashed each other, having fun. Then we got out and rested, before proceeding on our way.

We reached the Tropical Waves. "Ma would never let us swim here, when she was watching us. But some of the other parents did."

We went in until the water was up to my chin, and Ruth was treading water. "I can sometimes catch these waves, and body-surf all the way to the beach."

WHUMP! A wave came toward us. "See if I can catch this one!" She began swimming toward the beach. The wave lifted me up and let me down again.

I looked around, couldn't see Ruth anywhere. The wave had broken by then, and the undertow was beginning to pull at me. While I stood there resisting the undertow, and looking around for Ruth a bit worried, I heard her calling out from the beach. "Lucy, it was perfect!" She was standing at the edge of the water. What a relief! "Try the next one!"

WHUMP! Why not? As the wave approached, I began swimming toward the beach. The wave splashed right over me, dunking me, flipping me over. I stood up coughing and gasping, when the undertow grabbed me and sat me down underwater again. I eventually managed to get up again, and sort-of swam until I could walk, to where Ruth was on the beach.

"You okay, Lucy?" asked Ruth with concern.

"Yah, just tired. I'm gonna relax a little." We both went up the beach, grabbed one of their beach towels, and lay down."

"There you are!" exclaimed a furious Ma, waking me out of my doze. "Good, at least you went with Lucy rather than going off on your own. But at least one of you could have told us. Lucy, it's fine that you go off on your own, but please tell *someone* when you take Ruth with you. I was worried!" Behind Ma were Mrs. King, Vanessa, and Helen, I felt embarrassed at being put on the spot there.

"Ma, you think I'm going to stay anywhere near there, after being ... shrieked at by the ... police officer?"

"I'm very sorry, Ma," I said, feeling guilty. "I should have found you and told you. But I didn't want to stay after hearing the shrieking either, so we went off together."

"Ruth," said Ma. "I had no idea her `little girl' was you. I can see why you ran off."

"Mrs. Cuttington?" said Vanessa. "I wouldn't debate a police officer in the first place. But if I were her age and I had a encounter like that with one, I would have run off blindly, in any direction, not knowing where I was going. Be thankful, she was aware enough to find Lucy before going. I saw the last part of that exchange, and Ruth was out cold for a little bit before coming to her senses and running off."

"Mrs. Cuttington?" said Helen. "This is Bikini Beach. She's perfectly safe here, and can't get lost."

"Helen," said her mother, Mrs. King. "Moms always worry about their daughters. That's part of their job as mothers. They're always afraid something bad will happen."

"No harm done," said Ma. "And I didn't realize Ruth was her target. I won't say any more about it. Now let's go back to the nice relaxing Lagoon for now."

We all followed Ma. I didn't know that Vanessa and Ruth had held back for a while, until they both caught up with us at the Lagoon.

The other girls were there, including Nancy and Cindy. "Hey, Lucy. There you are!" said Carol, hugging me. "Did you miss the excitement at the career opportunity tables?"

"You mean, when the police officer shrieked at Ruth?"

"Oh my God, that was Ruth there? I had no idea. I'm so... so..." Carol trailed off, and gave Ruth a hug. Ruth seemed surprisingly euphoric now. I wondered why.

Nancy said, "A good many of us there were upset, and we all decided to leave. We saw Anya emerge, mobbed by many people. I don't know how she dealt with the screamer."

We swam and relaxed in the Lagoon for a while. Vanessa pulled me to the side for a couple minutes. "Ruth told me about her experience with the cop. That and a number of other things led me to figure out about Ruth, and she confirmed it. I would tell you now, but you wouldn't believe it. I have to go talk to Anya. From what Ruth said, she doesn't want your Ma to know anything about this."

"Vanessa," I said. "You're scaring me. Is something sinister going on?"

"Like I said, you wouldn't believe. But possibly. Not that we're in danger, or anything. Eventually, I'll tell you." Vanessa ran off.

My worries hovered in the back of my mind while we continued playing. Vanessa returned, and got Ruth and me together. "I tried talking with Anya, but she snapped that she was too busy. She was surprisingly curt with me; usually, she's quite friendly. I couldn't get enough out that would get through to her. I said it was about the shrieking police officer, and she said the officer was sent home and would be replaced. I couldn't get any further. I tried to see Grandmother, but they wouldn't even let me in. The workers told me that everyone was extremely busy, because of July 4th.

"It seems as if Bikini Beach itself were sabotaging my attempt to bring the problem to their attention," Vanessa finished.

"That sounds about right," growled Ruth.

"You make it sound as if there's something magical about Bikini Beach," I said.

"There is," answered Ruth and Vanessa simultaneously. "I will try again later this evening," continued Vanessa.

We continued playing at the Lagoon until dinner time. To my surprise, Ruth seemed to play with Vanessa and Carol as much as with Me and Helen.

While we were playing, music began sounding around us. I couldn't tell the source, but I guessed that speakers were hidden or camouflaged around us. The music seemed to come at us from all directions. I didn't recognize the music, but it sounded exciting as befitted a July 4th celebration. I suspected someone in the main building was playing a bunch of CDs.

Finally it was dinner time. We all went to the Tiki Hut, at the far end of the South Sea Adventures, for dinner. I was at the moment eating in silence, semi-listening to everything around me, and someone a table over mentioned getting a lifetime membership in Bikini Beach.

I would have forgotten about it, but Ruth, sitting next to me, turned toward that table and said, "It was a trap."

"Hush, Ruth," said Ma.

The girl, definitely older than me, replied sarcastically, "Oh? So you must think that everyone who gets a lifetime Bikini Beach membership is a man unwittingly and unwillingly transformed into a girl for the rest of his life?"

What the....!?! Almost everyone around us burst out laughing. Eventually, the laughter died down. "Good comeback," said someone at that table, and everyone at that table laughed again. I felt really embarrassed for Ruth.

Ruth first looked grumpy, but then her expression changed. "Guys, I've always wondered."

"Yes?" said Becky.

"In `The Emperor's New Clothes' -- you know, Hans Christian Andersen’s story -- what really happened when the little boy shouted out, `He isn't wearing any clothes!' I mean, did his mom say, `Hush, dear'? Or did his dad take him home, out to the woodshed, and tan his hide? Or did police come and take him and his dad way, and toss them into the dungeon?"

Vanessa said, "That's a good point. Often, people don't take a child seriously, when he states an important point. Not even if it's obvious -- or when it's obvious that he knows what he's talking about."

I wasn't sure of the relevance, but I was reminded of a passage in the Bible. "When I was a child, I spoke as a child. When I grew up, I spoke as an adult. I forget where that appears in the Bible."

"In the Bible," replied Vanessa, "Jesus says that in order to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, one must become as a little child."

"True," I said, a little embarrassed at bringing the subject up.

After dinner, Vanessa and Helen had to go to the pavilion to prepare for their chorus concert. The rest of us went with her, and found the source of the music that had been surrounding us all the time: the orchestra was performing there. We decided to wait and listen and relax. Their concert dress was just about the most bizarre I'd ever seen. They were all women -- even the tuba players were husky, muscular women -- in black July 4th Bikini-Beach bikinis! They wore sandals with heels instead of flip-flops.

I noticed that Ma and Ruth weren't with us. What happened? I was sure Ruth would want to watch Helen in the chorus, just as the girls and I wanted to watch Vanessa in the chorus. In fact, she seemed to like Vanessa as well.

I put it out of my mind for now.

As usual when seeing an orchestra or band perform, I spent at least some time with my attention on the clarinetists. I crept around toward the front to get a good view of them. There were two clarinetists and one bass clarinetist.

One of the clarinetists looked familiar. Oh my, she resembled Brandon a little -- perhaps Brandon's sister or cousin? I was having trouble breathing, from nerves and excitement.

I returned to the others in a bit of a daze, trying to calm myself and make myself presentable. It didn't quite work. When I got back, Carol asked, "Lucy, are you okay?"

Becky said, "Yeah, you look like you saw a ghost!"

"I was just checking out the clarinet section--"

"And you saw your Brandon there?" interrupted Becky.

My face flamed, and I would have fallen hadn't Alice and Jen caught me. "Hey! Brandon's a guy!" I exclaimed.

"So?" said Becky, as they let me down gradually. "Maybe he's a girl now."

What the heck had gotten into Becky!?! I was at an utter loss for words. I could only glare. She'd suddenly gone from silly in a fun way to full-fledged knuckle-headed bimbo. Even if she was joking...

"Becky!" exclaimed Jen, sounding very unJen-like. Then she continued, "Perhaps she was his sister," softer, more Jen-like.

"Yeah," said Alice knowingly. "When someone's in love, anything and everything remotely connected to the beloved one is fascinating. Unless it's a rival for his affections."

"Hrmph!" I swatted her -- lightly of course. "I don't want to talk about it any more."

"Girls, leave her alone about it," said Carol.

"It's okay," whispered Jen. "You're among friends here." That's what they always said. She came over and hugged me. "Seriously, I know the feeling," she whispered.

We continued to listen to their playing, and I kept watching the clarinet section. Did that lady there really look like Brandon? Or was it my imagination?

A Bikini Beach worker came nearby. "Is Lucy Cuttington around?"

"Yes?" I stood up, wondering nervously if I was in trouble or something.

The worker approached. "Your mother is taking Ruth home. I don't know anything about it, except that there was some kind of trouble. She tells you not to worry, continue to enjoy the evening, and she would be back for you around ten this evening."

Not to worry, she said. "Okay, thanks." Unfortunately, I had no idea what else to do, what I could do. I stayed here, although I couldn't help worrying.

Eventually, the orchestra had a break, and we went to get sodas. Then chorus came on stage, onto a stand behind the orchestra. Like the orchestra, they were all women and girls dressed in black bikinis and heeled sandals. I spotted Vanessa in back, as one of the tallest women in the chorus -- she was in the back row, of course.

Becky and Alice in unison jumped up and shouted, "Yeah, Vanessa!" Jen did so an instant later, just as everything went quiet for an instant -- and sat down immediately, covering her face in embarrassment.

I spotted Helen in front, in a line of little girls.

They sang various patriotic songs like "Yankee Doodle," "Grand Old Flag," and "I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy." Most of the songs were familiar from elementary school singing, even though I'd forgotten many of the lyrics.

There was another ten-minute break, during which we went to get more sodas and I slipped down to look at the clarinetist again. This time, only younger girls in the chorus appeared. They all looked like elementary school-girls. Vanessa wasn't there, but Helen was. About a third of the girls came down in front of the orchestra, where microphones and stands had been placed during the break.

They gave a stage reading of a musical play called, "Let George Do It." Some of it was wincingly silly, but mostly I found it cute and funny. It was about George Washington and the American Revolution.

Afterwards, the girls returned to their positions in the back and the rest of the girls returned, and they sang a few more songs. Vanessa had a nice solo part; she could really sing!

The show eventually ended, and we went to the Green Room to meet the performers and congratulate Vanessa. It seemed as if everyone in the audience went there as well. My guess was that, as the show was broadcast over the entire water park, only those with family members and friends there actually came to the Pavilion to see them.

Vanessa finally met us. After we congratulated her on her solo, Helen came up and asked, "Where is Ruth? She promised to watch me tonight."

I answered, "I'm very sorry, Helen. I'm afraid Ma had to take her home."

Vanessa added, "If they've recorded this, I'll try to get a copy for her."

"Thanks, Vanessa," said Helen.

Becky said, "Lucy wants to see the orchestra. She thinks one of the clarinet players is related to Brandon."

I blushed and sat down hard.

"When one is love, anything and everything associated with him is interesting and fascinating," repeated Alice, to further my embarrassment.

"Let's go and take a look," said Vanessa. She led off, I managed to get back up, and the rest of us followed. We shortly reached another room where the orchestra members were cleaning up. We approached the two clarinetists; I held back, short of breath and stomach fluttering."

Both clarinetists turned. "Oh, hello, Miss. Good job with that solo," said the vaguely-Brandon-look-alike young lady to Vanessa.

"Thank you. My friend thinks one of you resembles someone she knows, a clarinetist."

The clarinetist looked over us, and her eyes lit up in recognition of me. "Oh, hello Lucy. I'm glad you could come, and I hope you enjoyed the show."

I could feel my eyes widening. How the heck did she know me? "Um, I was wondering, um," I flushed and couldn't continue.

Becky continued for me, "Lucy thought you looked a bit like her clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon. She wondered if you were related."

The lady looked around, and led me off to a corner of the room. The girls followed.

"Actually, I am Brandon Oregon," she said, in a hushed tone.

Flame-burning-face... limp... motionless... faint... sick... nausea... light and dark patterns... "Maybe he's a girl now" over and over... weak knees... the world spinning... Vague sounds from the distance... "Lucy, Lucy!" Repeated light and darkness. Brandon Oregon as a pretty lady in a bikini.

Feeling air pulses on my face, I realized that it might be a good idea to breath. I took a long, slow, deep breath -- something I learned years back to do just before tests.

I heard various sentence fragments: "... think she's recovering..." "... blue screen of death..." "...major-league crush..." "... I think she'll be okay."

Someone was holding me up. Vanessa on my left, and Carol on my right. I grabbed onto them for support, sagging down in the process. I would have fallen had Vanessa not been supporting me just then. I was gently lowered to the floor, where I curled into a fetal position.

I looked up; everyone was looking down at me with expressions of concern.

"Wow!" exclaimed Becky. "I've never seen anyone turn green before!"

"Becky!" exclaimed Carol.

The pretty lady, still in her bikini, who'd claimed to be Brandon was also leaning over me. "I'm so sorry, Lucy. I just wasn't thinking..." she trailed off.

Oh God, the mortification!

"I guess you didn't know," continued Brandon. "Bikini Beach turns any male who enters female. Some of us in the orchestra are ordinarily male. By tomorrow morning, we'll all be back to normal.

I stared blankly, "Maybe he's a girl now," still echoing through my mind.

Vanessa came to my aid. "We're her friends. She'll understand better if we talk about it ourselves, okay?"

I took a couple deep breaths, and then stood up with Carol and Vanessa's help.

I followed the girls out of the pavilion, still feeling a little faint and humiliated, and weak. The girls found a relatively quiet place off to the side of the Bikini Beach activity, where we could sit, rest, and talk.

The images kept invading my mind -- Brandon as a pretty lady. Brandon in a bikini. Brandon seeing me in a swimsuit, although (thank goodness) not in a bikini as in my nightmares. Brandon as all female.

I gradually came to my senses. I must have misunderstood Men don't change to women, and boys don't change to girls. This is the real world, not the Land of Oz, where Tip was transformed into Ozma.

And that girl's response to Ruth at dinner was nothing more than a sarcastic retort -- right?

"You okay, Lucy?" asked Jen, shyly.

"I guess so. Did I mishear, was someone pulling my leg? It just can't be that..." I was by now embarrassed to say this. "Bikini Beach changes boys to girls. I mean, this is the real world!"

"Well, if that lady clarinetist was pulling your leg, she did a very good job at it," said Alice. "After all, she recognized you, she looked enough like Brandon to raise your curiosity, and she played clarinet like Brandon -- and then claimed to be Brandon. I agree, though. Boys changing to girls is unbelievable. I would have accused those who thought otherwise of having read too many sex-change stories. However, now..." Alice trailed off.

Jen commented, "I've heard of GIRL -- G,I,R,L -- as an acry--, um ancro--, uh"

"Acronym?" suggested Carol.

"Yeah, that's it. For `Guy In Real Life.' So some of the girls here at Bikini Beach may be GIRLs."

I couldn't help laughing along with everyone else, even though I was still feeling a little shaky.

"So, is any of you a GIRL?" I asked facetiously, with a dose of sarcasm.

"I am," answered Becky.

"WHAT!?!" I exclaimed. I couldn't wrap my mind around it -- Becky a guy? I was having trouble breathing again. On the other hand, it was adding up. Becky's bimbo-headed comment about Brandon being a girl turned out correct, according to the lady clarinetist. Being a GIRL herself would give Becky reason to seriously consider that possibility.

"I didn't tell anyone -- not until now. I don't think anyone knew except my aunt -- and the people here who did it, such as Grandmother and Anya."

"One wouldn't think of it to look at you," said Alice. "You're all girl."

"I really am a guy -- okay, I'm a girl right now," Becky giggled. "But I really was a guy. I was sent to spend the summer with my aunt -- and here I am. She took me to Bikini Beach, and got me a summer membership. Can't say I was as shocked as you, Lucy, when it happened, because I didn't faint, but I was very surprised and disturbed. Both Grandmother -- she's the Founder of Bikini Beach -- Grandmother and Aunt Yuko had to explain that my change lasts the length of the pass, plus several hours. My real, uh, male name," she giggled again and looked straight at me, "is Bruce."

"Wait a minute," I said apprehensively. "What was your last name again?" It couldn't be. It just couldn't be.

"Miura. I'm Bruce Miura."

"No-no, you just can't be!" Becky giggled at my surprise. "Anyway, Bruce doesn't giggle like that."

"Nah, that's just Becky. Bikini Beach changed me. I was initially disturbed at my personality change, but then I decided to live it up and enjoy it. It's usually fun to giggle and laugh it out. Anyway, remember the Gettysburg Address? You teased me into reciting it before I was fully ready."

"Oh, you did well. Only slipped up a moment in the middle, that's all. But then there was that Valentine's Day--"

"Don't mention that!" Becky shrieked, even with a giggle.

"Now, I'm very curious," said Carol. "What happened?"

"I'm not telling," Becky and I said in unison, then burst out laughing.

By now, I was convinced that Becky really was the Bruce I knew. And now that I knew, I saw the distinct resemblance. Bruce was one of the few people at school I could call friend last year. I never saw him as boyfriend material, and I'm sure he didn't see me as girlfriend material. We were in the same science class, routinely paired together. We occasionally chatted, and sometimes sat together for lunch.

"It's really amazing the change Bikini Beach made in you," I said. "I don't think I would have recognized you even if I knew about Bikini Beach changing people, even though I see the resemblance now."

"When Bikini Beach changes someone," said Vanessa, "they make it complete. The GIRL becomes a true girl."

"You knew about Becky?" I asked, almost in outrage.

"Not about her, but about Bikini Beach transformations," she answered.

"Of course you would know, *VERnon*," said Carol.

My jaw dropped, Jen's eyes widened, and Alice said, "Eh?"

"Okay, okay, I have to admit it," said Vanessa. "I'm a GIRL as well. That is, a guy. But how did you know?"

"Hey, I was with you -- Vernon -- when you got your two-week pass," said Carol.

"I was with her too," I complained. "I distinctly remember Vanessa getting it, not some guy named Vernon."

"You knew, but didn't tell us?" asked Alice.

"Heck," said Carol. "Would you have believed me had I told you, `Hey, everyone. Our beloved friend Vanessa is really a guy'?"

"No, I guess you're right," said Alice.

"Excuse me?" I interjected. "Did anyone hear what I just said? I distinctly remember Vanessa getting her two-week pass."

"That's another thing about Bikini Beach transformations," Vanessa said. "Most people think that the boy was always the girl. Only a few remember otherwise. Mom remembers that I was Vernon. Dad doesn't, thank goodness. To tell the truth, I don't know about Helen. I have no idea how Bikini Beach decides who should remember and who should forget. Why did Carol remember, but Lucy forget? I haven't the faintest.

"For that matter, why did Lucy remember Bruce but not recognize Becky as him, while she remembered me as Vanessa when I was actually Vernon, and Carol remember Vernon but recognize me as him? Again, beats the heck out of me."

"That's awful! Mind control!" More of that. I was the victim of mind control, made to forget. I was getting really scared. What else was I made to forget? How else was my thinking controlled? "Animal Magnetism, hypnotism, and so forth" came to mind.

Vanessa hugged me. "Don't worry about it, Lucy. I'm still the same person, Vernon or Vanessa."

"Did it occur to anyone," asked Alice in a huff, "that we've been changing clothes right in front of each other? Right in front of Becky or Bruce, and Vanessa or Vernon!" Alice suddenly drew herself together, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling tight. She was mad and embarrassed.

In fact, now that Alice mentioned it, I felt violated and mortified myself. We were always brought up never to let boys see see us naked. In fact, being skimpily dressed meant being shamefully exposed. Pa always emphasized that.

Becky giggled. "That's one of the perks of being a GIRL at Bikini Beach." She leered at us, and stuck her tongue out. "Seriously, though--"

"You? Serious, Becky?" snarked Carol.

"Ah-HEM, *SERiously*," continued Becky, giving Carol a dirty look, "It got old after a couple weeks. There's only so much titillation one can receive with naked girls, before it gets old -- and there was always my own self to ogle in the mirror. Now, I find it more exciting and fantasy-inducing playing, roughhousing, talking, hugging, even simply being with, the best, loveliest, prettiest, greatest girls in the world. Heck, even in blue-jeans and tee-shirt, you're all the best ever."

I think we all blushed at that flattery. I know I did.

"But still..." said Alice.

"Yeah, it's still interesting and fascinating to see and observe the sheer variety of female anatomy, something completely out of my experience before. And didn't you find it exciting, perhaps deliciously forbidden, to show yourself to a boy? And the boy would show you his?"

I blushed. I'd heard of the naughtiness of "playing doctor," but I'd never done it myself.

"Yeah, but that's different," said Alice. "We knew about the boys seeing us then; we weren't caught by surprise. Also, you never showed us yours."

"I can't help that," said Becky. "I don't *have* mine." She leaned back, spread her legs, and lifted herself into a bridge. "But I promise, once my pass expires and I become Bruce again, and get mine back, I'll let you -- any of you -- see it. We will stay together, won't we, when the summer's over?" She sounded sad, almost pleading.

"Of course, dear," said Vanessa, reaching over to hug her. "We'll stay together forever." We found ourselves in a tearful group hug.

Jen almost whispered, looking rather embarrassed, "I don't mind Vanessa seeing me, even if she really is Vernon." She blushed.

"I'm quite, um, flattered to hear that," said Vanessa, hugging her with tears in her eyes.

"Okay, okay," Becky said. "If this helps, one of the things Grandmother told me was that I would forget intimate details when I changed back -- something like that. I just remembered that -- only the gist." Becky sighed tragically. "I suppose that means that if I ever get to have sex before I change back, I'll forget about it."

I tried to maintain a poker face at that. Was Bruce ever like that? Certainly not to me.

Vanessa said, "Maybe she didn't mean that so much as forgetting or at least fogging out on the women's room and everything one sees there, and similar situations. For me at least, the few days I was back as Vernon, my memory of the women's changing room seemed fogged out. And as Vanessa, I couldn't work up any interest in seeing women and girls changing, no matter how hard I tried. I eventually gave up. I can't seem to view naked and bikini-clad girls as -- well, how I viewed them as a guy. And back as Vernon, I definitely think of the five gorgeous girls, but I remember more the fun and games and roughhousing than the attire. I do remember some things I did and said, and wondered how the heck I could possibly have done them. My personality has changed, in ways that disturbed me."

"You've always been the Team Mom," said Jen.

"That's one of the major changes Bikini Beach made in me. Vernon was never like that."

"Okay guys," said Becky. "Now that Vanessa and I have bared our inner souls and revealed our shameful secrets, is anyone else here a GIRL?"

"Not me," answered Jen.

"I'm a straight girl." I shuddered. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to be a boy, with those... those... those physical differences!" I didn't have more than a vague idea of what boys had down there. I'd only occasionally seen a naked baby. Pa was the only male in my family, and he always made sure never to let Ruth or me see him unclothed. It was naughty, obscene to let someone, especially of the opposite sex, see you naked.

"I'm a pure girl, and I love it!" exclaimed Alice. "I wouldn't have it any other way." The rest of us laughed. I was glad not to have the attention on me.

"I'm female as well," said Carol.

"Another thing," said Vanessa. "Becky, did you ever have any trouble saying your male name?"

"No. Why?"

"Starting out, I simply couldn't say `Vernon'. Whenever I tried, it always came out as `Vanessa.' But I couldn't say that I was Vernon, or that my male name was Vernon -- whenever I tried saying `Vernon' it always came out as `Vanessa'."

"Strange," said Becky. "I never had any trouble saying `Bruce'. In fact, I chose Becky as my girl name myself, only an hour or so after I came and changed, when my aunt warned me for third or fourth time that someone else might choose for me, or even Bikini Beach itself might choose."

"More mind control," I said, suddenly fearful.

"Undoubtedly. I finally worked up the nerve to approach Anya and ask for my mental block to be removed," continued Vanessa. "Even though Anya's a high officer here, the granddaughter of Grandmother, and apparently a powerful mage in her own right, turns out she's a very nice, very friendly lady -- most of the time, at least." I could tell she was thinking back to her earlier experience this afternoon. "She explained that it was to avoid inadvertently using one's male name, embarrassing oneself and saying something ridiculous. It was a couple weeks after I began coming here, and she was nice enough to remove the block. I've never had the problem of inadvertently calling myself Vernon.

"However, I have occasionally heard -- well, just like this afternoon, Lucy: `I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth.' It sounds just as ridiculous, but there's nothing to prevent that. It's something an unwilling, involuntary GIRL might say, trying to tell who she really is but having her mind blocked."

"Wait a minute! You're not telling me that Ruth is..." I just couldn't say it.

"A changed person," said Vanessa. "A GIRL?" said Becky simultaneously. "Yeah, Ruth is a GIRL," said Vanessa. "When she started talking about high-school science, I was pretty sure of it. And when she said, `I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth,' deliberately as a clue, that sealed it for me. And she confirmed it this afternoon, when talking with me. She is an unwilling GIRL, and a smart one too, to leave that kind of clue.

"Unfortunately, that clue goes nowhere with anyone who hasn't at least heard rumors about Bikini Beach changes. Lucy, if I told you this afternoon, you wouldn't have believed me -- at least, I don't think you would have."

"She can't be a GIRL. She's been my little sister ever since she was born! I remember so much -- dinners, breakfasts, lunches, Sunday School and Church when she was old enough. Walking to school together when I was in fifth grade and she in Kindergarten. Ballet together the last two years. She was always around!"

"Did you notice any recent strangeness in her? Any personality changes? Saying strange things?" asked Vanessa.

"Today, she said strange things," I said, feeling faint. "The debate she got in with the cop. Making criminals confess. It sounded almost adult. In fact, except when playing, she's sounded rather serious these past weeks. Sometimes temperamental."

"Can you say when it began?" asked Jen softly.

"She got quite angry and temperamental when we visited here the first time. Then shouting about mental malpractice and such." I took a deep breath, trying to remember. "There were times when I wondered if she was adult."

"Astronomy magazine," said Carol.

"Oh yes. Talk of DNA. Talk of the CIA and the military. `The Emperor's New Clothes.'" I wasn't going to mention prostitution. Then there was that time she caught me with the naughty teen girl's magazine. I wasn't going to mention that either; that had been so embarrassing. "Now I remember that time, it was while we walked home from ballet. She kept trying to get me to remember -- she had an awful time saying it, but I managed to figure out the name was Peter. Wait a minute, you're not telling me Ruth was really a guy named Peter?" It made me sick to think of it, but it was beginning to make way too much sense.

"Ruth's male name was one thing she was unable to convey to me this afternoon," said Vanessa. "But it seems as though he was accused of a major crime, got off based on DNA evidence, and then your Ma brought him here to change him to Ruth. From what I hear about some Bikini Beach changes, not only is the change to girl complete, the reality-shift is complete as well. Only a few persons remember what really happened. I think we should go and try to visit Anya again. She might not be so busy now."

It was just beginning to get dark now, and we had probably an hour before Bikini Beach closed tonight. I got up, feeling sick to my stomach, and we made our way back to the entrance building.

"Anya's usually quite friendly," said Vanessa. "This afternoon was quite exceptional. I hope it doesn't happen tonight."

That didn't help my nerves. Sick to my stomach, I trailed the other girls into the building, and Vanessa asked to see Anya. At least I wasn't alone.

Becky said in a soft, haunting tone, "Grandmother's in here somewhere. I hope we don't encounter her."

A pretty lady whom I'd seen several times as saleslady emerged from an office. "Hello, please come in." As we entered, the lady continued, "I'm very sorry for my mood this afternoon when you visited, Vanessa. I was just busy, juggling about half a dozen things."

"Anya, these are my friends -- Jen, Carol, Alice, Becky, and Lucy Cuttington."

"I'm pleased to meet you all," said Anya.

"Lucy is the older sister of the girl I tried to ask you about this afternoon, Ruth. Bikini Beach changed Ruth, probably from an older boy or man named Peter. Lucy here was extremely disturbed, but may have been persuaded. Please be gentle with her; she didn't even know about Bikini Beach transformations until today, and was hit hard several times. As for Ruth, I think she was the victim of a miscarriage of justice. Her debate with the police officer this afternoon may have been based on Peter's own experiences. That must have been difficult, because she's been unable to actually tell what happened to her as Peter."

Anya went to the computer at her desk. "Let me check here." She moved the mouse around and typed into the computer for a couple minutes. "Yes, Ruth was originally Peter, a 17-year-old boy. Her mother requested the change because Peter had raped and murdered a girl, and his lawyer had gotten him off, so now he was beyond the reach of the law."

Vanessa said, "Ruth indicated that DNA testing got her off, although she couldn't actually say that. She also hinted at horrible experiences at the police station; again she couldn't actually say that, but could just barely signal confirmation when I asked about them."

Anya typed some more, and then continued, reading from the computer, "When his mom brought him to Bikini Beach on June 21, our scanners detected enraged murderous thoughts in Peter. As part of his transformation to Ruth, we suppressed those thoughts."

Enraged murderous thoughts! Oh, oh, oh, blast! Ruth? I couldn't believe it. I collapsed against the wall, bawling my heart out. I only vaguely recall vomiting into a bowl someone held in front of me.

I ran outside, ignoring the shouts of "Lucy!" from behind me, running down the first trail I saw, not fully aware of things, still bawling. It was dark out now. I just continued running and running. I finally stopped at a pool I didn't recognize, probably because of the darkness. I still had the taste of vomit in my mouth, so I washed my mouth out. It didn't work completely, but it was better.

I just lay down on the sand next to the pool, and curled up. Ruth? Enraged murderous thoughts? I had a big brother like that? Maybe he was a murderer who got off scott free? My crying was now reduced to soft weeping.

In the back of my mind, I heard the 1812 Overture begin. Normally, I loved that piece. But now, I tried to shut it out. Ruth, formerly Peter, a dangerous mad murderer? The idea kept at me, and I couldn't let go of the thought, no matter how hard I tried.

The music played itself through, no matter how I tried to put it out of my mind. I jumped in fright and terror at the nearby cannon that went off in time with the music -- and hit someone standing over me. I freaked out, and pushed her off and ran off, before recognizing the voice of the person who kept calling out, "Lucy! Lucy!"

I decided to stop and let her catch up with me. It was Carol. "Lucy, I don't believe that Ruth was a murderer, not as Peter I mean. There's got to be some kind of misunderstanding If you want me to leave you alone, I will. I'll understand if you decide you hate us all now."

"No, Carol, I couldn't hate you. I couldn't hate any of you." I cried into her bosom as she held me. Not even the blasting cannons, or "The Stars and Stripes Forever" that followed could affect me now. I only barely noticed the fireworks that exploded in the sky at the end. And it took Carol to tell me that they were closing, and we'd better head back to the changing room.

I met the other girls on the way back. Becky jumped and hugged me, exclaiming, "I was scared -- we all were scared -- you didn't want to see us again. I hope that's not the case."

They all hugged me. I realized I was among friends again.

I got back into that fancy skirt and blouse, sickly reminded of all I'd taken today, including Brandon as a pretty lady in a bikini.

I remembered we had to take Carol, Nancy, and Cindy back with us. I found a public phone and called home, to see when Ma would be coming to get us. Nobody answered, to my concern. Surely at least Pa and Ruth were home now; wouldn't one of them answer?

Ma showed up shortly, we all piled into the car. I was squeezed in the back seat between Carol and Cindy. It took a while to exit the parking lot, and then Nancy had to direct Ma to their house. That took a while. We dropped them off, and I hugged Carol good night.

That left just me and Ma in the car. I wanted to stay in the back seat and lay down and sleep and perhaps fade out of existence. But Ma insisted I sit with her in the front seat. She insisted on telling me what happened with Ruth.

I missed the offense Ruth had allegedly done, but I understood what followed. "Ruth wouldn't let me spank her." No surprise there, having seen Ruth's kicks and punches. "So I did something I'd vowed never to do -- and so far never did with you two girls until now. I had Pa punish her when we got home.

"Pa took her to the bathroom for a bare-bottom spanking with his hairbrush, which I thought was a bit much, hearing how she screamed in pain. I hardened my heart to it because of the way she fought us trying to spank her." I got angry at that myself, and growled a bit. "That would have been the end of things, except that right afterwards, Ruth got violent and kicked Pa, hurting him pretty badly.

"We had a fellow Firmlove family come for Ruth. She's spending the night at their home. Pa is doing mental work and reading `Science and Health' to heal potential damage done by Ruth. If necessary, we may have to call Mrs. P-- to work for us."

I felt like I was about to cry. I tried to hold it in.

Ma and Pa's bedroom lights were on when we got home. Otherwise, the house seemed empty and silent. I went inside and up to my own room, and changed into my nightgown. I was tired from everything at Bikini Beach, everything that went wrong.

I cried myself to sleep.

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 8
The Day After

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 5th

In clarinet lesson, while Brandon and I were playing one of the duets, I realized both of us were in swimwear -- me in a one-piece, and Brandon in a bikini. And then I realized it wasn't the good Brandon I was in love with, but the sexy evil lady Brandon from Bikini Beach. Her face gleefully warped into a hideous face, and she cackled at me in malicious delight. She was Ruth, an enraged murderous Ruth, somehow grown to monstrous size. And she was after me. I was trying to run, but my legs were almost paralyzed.

I woke up in a sweat, and burst into tears. Brandon, Ruth, you couldn't be -- you're not like that at all! Not even as the lady at Bikini Beach. No, not Brandon please! And not Ruth, oh please, please, please!

Eventually, I realized it was all a dream, and nothing more than a dream. I got up to go to the bathroom, and tried to go to sleep. Sexy lady Brandon, and enraged murderous Peter/Ruth, preoccupied my mind, kept me crying. By comparison, learning that Vanessa and Becky were really guys was minor. But I eventually cried myself back to sleep.

I finally woke up late Saturday morning. I spotted my olive miniskirt, blouse, and lingerie from yesterday scattered about the floor, reminding me of the pretty lady Brandon at Bikini Beach -- which in turn reminded me of Ruth/Peter with enraged, murderous thoughts. I collapsed on the bed, and bawled anew.

I have no idea how long I would have laid there. I did notice the doorbell ringing, but it didn't register until someone knocked at my door. I wiped my face before calling out, "Come in!" I knew it wasn't Ma, or Pa, or Ruth at the door -- it didn't sound like their knocks.

It turned out to be Daisy. As I rose up to a sitting position, Daisy came in, sat on my lap, and hugged me. "You're very sad," she said.

I couldn't see how Daisy could possibly understand what happened yesterday, and I definitely didn't want to talk about Ruth as Peter with murderous thoughts. Ruth didn't even exist before we started going to Bikini Beach. And I didn't want to talk about Brandon.

So I sat with Daisy on my lap, hugging her for some time. Finally, I said, "I'd probably better get up now, and go for breakfast." I dumped the scattered clothes into the hamper. I thought of just trashing them, but decided against it. The skirt and blouse would require special cleaning, but Ma would take care of that.

I got into my robe and went downstairs, followed by Daisy. I was way too late for breakfast with the family. Pa had left for work, even though it was Saturday. As I made my own breakfast -- and something for Daisy -- Ma said, "Pa insisted on going in to work today, despite his hurt side. And something disturbed you last night at Bikini Beach, I could tell. You may talk about it if you want -- you may talk about anything with me." I just kept silent; I didn't want to tell Ma about Brandon, and especially I didn't want to talk or even think about a murderous Ruth. "In times like these, the Mental work and the Lesson are particularly important," added Ma, as she turned on the Mental Work.

We retired to the living-room for the Lesson, and then Daisy asked me, "Could you play something on the piano, Lucy?"

I played a piece I'd memorized, one that I liked from several years back. I briefly glanced at Daisy, and she was swaying and moving her feet to the music, with a smile on her face. So I played a few more pieces.

"Say, how about my clarinet?" I asked suddenly.

"Sure!" She followed me upstairs to my room, and watched as I put my clarinet together. "I let my reed soak for a while. If you want, we can go back downstairs for another piano piece." So we did.

Afterwards, we returned to my room for the clarinet. I played a few dance pieces, waltzes and such. I liked watching her move and swing to my music. I decided to let this substitute for practice, because I wasn't at all sure I could get myself to practice after seeing Brandon as a pretty lady in a bikini yesterday at Bikini Beach.

Afterwards, Daisy asked me, "Do you know Taekwondo?"

I recognized it as a term Ruth used. "All I know is that it involves kicking and punching. I saw Ruth do it, and that's what she called it."

"Ruth taught me a few kicks. I wondered if you knew it."

"Ma would never let us do something so unladylike as Taekwondo. Last night, Ma said Ruth kicked Pa, hurting him pretty badly, after Pa spanked her."

"I can't believe Ruth would do anything like that!" said Daisy.

I definitely wasn't going to tell Daisy about what I'd learned last night about Ruth. In fact, I was wondering by then whether that had really happened last night, or I was just imagining it -- I had dreamed it all -- going up to Anya, learning about Peter and murderous thoughts, running off in a fog of grief and sickness.

I couldn't think of anything to say.

"Ruth has changed," Daisy said.

"Yeah, when we first went to Bikini Beach. You have no idea how bizarre Bikini Beach really is. I don't want to talk about what happened yesterday. I'm not even sure if I dreamed it last night. I'm getting rather drowsy." I yawned and lay down on the bed. I was glad to get away from a nasty topic.

Daisy climbed on the bed next to me. For a while, I lay half-awake, half-asleep, eventually falling asleep.

I awoke when Ma called me downstairs for a phone call. Daisy was next to me, asleep. I yawned and went down for the call. "Hey Lucy, we miss you!" that was Carol!

"We understand you didn't want to come to Bikini Beach," added Vanessa. "But perhaps you'd like to join us for lunch outside of Bikini Beach. Perhaps we'll go for a pizza?"

"I'd love to!" I just realized how much I was missing the other girls. "Let me ask Ma." I set the phone down and called, "Ma! They want to take me to lunch."

"Of course, by all means go and enjoy your friends!"

But first I had to go wake up Daisy. I didn't think I could just leave her asleep here. She was awake when I returned to my room. "My friends from Bikini Beach want to take me out. Is that okay?"

"That's okay. Hey, I kept you with me all morning. You want to be with your own friends, go! I have to go home for lunch, anyway."

"Becky says her aunt will drive us," Carol said, when I returned to the phone. "We'll see you in about half an hour."

"I'll be ready!"

I realized I was still in my bathrobe. Pa wasn't home, so I changed into a pair of blue shorts and a red tee-shirt. Ma gave me a handbag. "I put in some extras you might need. Off with you now, have fun with your friends."

I waited outside, sitting on the doorstep. The next half-hour was one of the longest in memory; it felt like forever. And they still weren't here after the half hour. Were they ever going to come?

A car I'd never seen before pulled up. The girls poured out of the car, and ran up and enveloped me. I felt a momentary sense of irony. I was embarrassingly under-dressed for Pa to see me in shorts, but now I felt embarrassingly overdressed among the girls.

"Hey, Lucy!" said Becky. "You didn't meet my aunt, did you? This is Aunt Yuko. Yuko Higuchi."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Miss Higuchi," I said, nodding my head slightly. Becky and Aunt Yuko looked very much alike, and were dressed similarly, in bikini tops -- Becky's sky-blue and Aunt Yuko's bright yellow -- and tight cut-off jeans shorts. Aunt Yuko was a couple inches taller.

We all piled into Aunt Yuko's car -- the smallest car I'd ever seen. It didn't have space for more than four people, but we somehow managed. Two of us had to sit on someone's lap. I sat on Carol's lap, and Jen on Vanessa's, with Alice squashed in between. It was really quite cozy, with Carol's arms around my waist.

As we drove off, Becky up front said, "I'm staying with Aunt Yuko for the summer. She--" Becky cleared her throat, "introduced me to Bikini Beach. She often comes as well; she was there last night." I didn't remember seeing her, but then I didn't know about her.

"Introduced, meaning changed her to a girl for the summer," sneered Alice.

Becky asked, "Hey, guys. Anyone know about the latest Naked Brothers video?"

"Oh God! Ow!" I hit the roof when I jumped.

"Ow! Careful Lucy!" exclaimed Carol under me, when I crashed back down on her.

"I hear it'll be released soon," said Jen.

"Their latest video is at Borders Tuesday night at midnight," said Alice. "I'm gonna be there, definitely. Anyone else?"

"Me," said Jen at the same time that Becky said, "I will."

I just sat there, jaw down on my chest, face aflame, turning my head back and forth at the girls.

"Uh, girls?" said Vanessa, "I think we just gave Lucy here another shock. We owe her an explanation; she's had enough as it was last night."

"Naked Brothers is a boy-band, Lucy," said Carol.

"They're the hottest thing since the Bubbleboys and the Spice Girls!" added Alice.

"Girls!" called out Aunt Yuko, as we turned into a parking lot of a pizza place. "We're here!"

As soon as the car stopped, we all clambered out. As we hurried into the restaurant, Becky said to me, "And no, Lucy, they're not actually naked. That's just their name. But three of them are brothers. Twelve-year-old twins Jake and Rake, and their older brother Lake, who's our age."

"Wait a minute!" I said. "I seem to recall you guys tormenting Carol about a twelve-year-old flute player -- and now, you're all bubbly about twelve-year-old twin boys?"

"Yeah. So?" answered Becky.

We found ourselves a booth, and the girls continued talking among themselves about the band, and I zoned out. I didn't care for modern pop and rock music, or whatever they called it these days. It was nasty stuff, almost sinful, and most contrary to Christian Science. The very name itself, "Naked Brothers Band", was a blatant shout out to sin.

"Guys, guys!" exclaimed Vanessa over the others. "We've left the guest of honor way behind here."

I blushed to find myself as the sudden center of attention. Something occurred to me. "Um, Becky, when you were -- I mean last year, did you -- um." I trailed off, at a loss for words, as a couple of the girls giggled.

"You mean when I was Bruce?" Becky replied innocently. Yesterday at Bikini Beach, Becky had told us that she was actually Bruce Miura, someone I knew at school. I'd had trouble actually believing her, until I mentioned something we both hoped everyone had forgotten. My face burned all the more now.

"Yeah. Did you listen to the band when you were Bruce?"

"No, actually not. I heard girls talking about them, but I was never interested. Sometimes I night when I fall asleep, I'm just amazed at how I've changed. I mean, I can't believe how hot boys are now, or that I've become very much the giggly Genki fangirl I..." She paused and looked down shamefully. "... very much had the hots for before."

Vanessa said, "Lucy, this was part of what hit you hard yesterday, wasn't it? I mean, you never knew about Bikini Beach, how they turned boys into girls, until last night."

"Well, sorta." I didn't even know what I was thinking, really. Definitely couldn't articulate it. My crush Brandon being a pretty lady in a bikini. Becky turning out to be my friend Bruce at school. Vanessa turning out to be a guy -- and Carol knowing about it the past few days and not giving even a hint. And me distinctly remembering the girl where Carol remembered the guy. I just couldn't wrap my head around it. "I was surprised, of course, to learn that two of you were actually boys. I mean, you don't seem like boys at all."

"My personality has changed, and Becky's has as well," said Vanessa. "Vernon's a much more cheerful, carefree, laid-back guy than me."

Jen said, "I'm really curious. I want to meet you as Vernon. I can imagine being very good friends." Jen licked her lips.

"So can I, dear. So can I," replied Vanessa, hugging Jen.

"So Bikini Beach changes more than just your body and sex then?" I asked. "Changes your personality as well?"

"In my case, I think it's just the hormones," said Becky. "Or maybe they changed me into the kind of girl I had the hots for. Or maybe changed me into the girl I would have been born as. Beats the heck out-a me. Bruce seldom cared for either boy-bands or girl-groups, but he, I found their giggling, screaming, excited, hyper fangirls quite hot, cute, and attractive. Lucy," she sounded serious for a moment, certainly a rare event. "I viewed you as a friend rather than potential girlfriend back in school because you were never like that. You were all serious.

"I still have my thinking and memories as a boy. I have hots for boys now, but I still have hots for girls. Especially five particularly lovely, gorgeous girls around me even now. Late at night when I'm home in bed, the boy in me, or perhaps the bisexual in me, truly comes out -- except that I'm just as likely to fantasize about you in jeans and blouse or tee-shirt, as in bikinis. And it's your faces more than any other part of your anatomy. You included, Lucy. This fall, when I return as Bruce, I'm sure I'll see you in a different light. And maybe even try to lure you away from Brandon." She giggled at that last bit.

I blushed again. Carol said, "You'll have to wait in line, Becky. I'm bigger than you."

"Hrmph!" snorted Becky. "We'll just see what Bruce has to say about that."

Wow, it felt certainly ... novel ... to have two (um) persons fight over me. Did Carol actually think of me like that? Remembering Bruce back at school, it was strange and a bit embarrassing to have him think of me like that -- or to possibly think of him like that.

"It's rather different for me," Vanessa rushed in. "After Anya warned me about Transformation Shock, I got two-week memberships. I'd spend a couple nights as Vernon before getting the next pass, and think and dream and wonder about being with you -- me, a guy, being accepted as a friend by five gorgeous girls."

"Vanessa, you mentioned transformation shock," said Carol. "I assume it occurs when one has had too many transformations. Do you know anything more about it?"

"Not really. Just something bad that happens after too many transformations -- something Anya warned me against. How many is too many, I'm not sure. I think she said two or three weeks approaches the danger point, if I transform three times a week.

Vanessa continued, "I think that whenever I change to Vanessa, I become the girl I would have been had I been born one."

My head hurt. I squeezed my eyes closed in confusion, and squeezed my head between my hands. I just couldn't make head nor tail of it. It flew way over my head, like a lead balloon.

Vanessa noticed. "Don't fret over it, darling. I don't understand it either. Yesterday, Dad came with us for the July 4th celebration, and turned into a woman himself." I remembered the woman she introduced as her mom's friend. "This morning, I couldn't tell if he remembered even being a woman. But he got into his car and drove off. I don't know where or why."

I squeezed my head again. "I just can't understand any of this!"

"As I said, don't fret over it. There's plenty in this world we don't understand."

Carol said, "But seeing her Brandon as a bikini-clad beauty just can't be forgotten or dismissed like that."

"`Her Brandon'?" giggled Alice, to my eternal embarrassment, and to the others' eternal amusement. My cheeks flamed.

"Now now," said Vanessa. "We're all here to help Lucy with her issues, not tease her about them."

"But teasing's so much fun!" said Alice.

"Yeah, we don't mean any harm by it," added Becky.

I just remained silent, and took a bite of my slice of pizza.

There was a moment of silence, during which we all ate our pizza slices. I, for one, didn't know what to say.

"Hey, guys, Petunia's having a sale at the mall this weekend!" That was Vanessa, changing the subject and possibly filling that gaping silence. I never went in there, not only because the lingerie there seemed so naughty, but also because it was atrociously expensive. I know that there's intricate design and work involved, but it really seemed like less material meant greater price.

"Ooo, wow!" said Becky. "What they sell is so sexy."

"Would you girls all like to visit the mall after we finish here? Or should we return to Bikini Beach?" asked Aunt Yuko.

I remained silent, while everyone else debated. Some called for the mall, others for Bikini Beach. Carol mentioned, "I'd like to browse the bookstore. But it doesn't have to be today."

"I saw a new store there a few days ago, `Spells R Us'," said Jen. "I couldn't check it out then. I wanna check it out sometime."

Aunt Yuko exclaimed, "I'm not going anywhere near that store. That place is run by an old prankster. Its products have done untold mischief, usually involving changing unsuspecting men into girls and animals, and often involving mind control as well. `If ever you see Spells R Us, run, do not walk, away.' Sorry, girls. The mall is out, as long as that store's there."

"Bikini Beach turned at least one unsuspecting boy into a girl," said Becky, obviously referring to herself. "And Bikini Beach does a certain amount of mind control, in Vanessa's case. Right?"

Words of Mrs. Eddy from the Mental Work came to my mind: the mental malpractioner "is not and cannot be Christian Scientist. He is disloyal to God and Man. He has every opportunity to mislead the human mind, and he uses it."

"I can't say how," said Aunt Yuko, "but Bikini Beach is different from SRU. At least, once the pass does its work, it doesn't change anything further. Also, in your case, I demanded no reality-shift. And as few mental changes as possible."

It was ultimately decided to return to Bikini Beach. "But I didn't bring a swimsuit," I complained. Then I looked in the handbag Ma sent with me. Sure enough, there was a swimsuit wrapped in a towel. It was my bikini, but I could live with that. "Yes I did. Ma put one in."

As we drove back to Bikini Beach, me on Carol's lap again, Alice said, "Until now, we never did anything outside of Bikini Beach. We should do this more often."

"Hey, how about a sleepover?" asked Becky. "Tonight!"

"We couldn't do it tonight," said Aunt Yuko. "You'd have to get permission from all your parents, and decide where to hold it. You have to plan these things ahead."

"We could host it. Our place would be perfect," said Becky.

"That's fine with me," said Aunt Yuko. "But we still plan it ahead. Some families might already have plans for tonight."

"I suppose you're right," said Becky. "But I'm sure that, calling from Bikini Beach, it shouldn't be too hard to get the parents' permission for tonight."

"Wait a minute. Are you insinuating--?" began Vanessa.

"Yes," interrupted Becky.

"No, no, we shouldn't manipulate people like that," said Vanessa.

"Awwww. Okay, so we plan for Tuesday or Thursday night."

"I'm fine with either," said Alice. "Mom and Dad will agree, I'm sure."

I didn't know about my parents. "I have to call home anyway and tell Ma where I am, so I'll ask her." We found a public phone, and I called home. Ma answered. "I'm at Bikini Beach now," I told her.

"I suspected you would go, and I'm glad. Something happened last night to disturb you -- and I hope you can recover."

"Um, Ma? The girls are planning a sleepover, either Tuesday or Thursday night. May I go?"

"That's a great idea! I remember pajama parties when I was growing up, and we always had a great time."

"Thanks Ma!" I wondered what Ma would have thought if she knew that two of us were GIRLs. I wasn't going to mention it; I doubted that Ma even knew that Bikini Beach transformed guys into girls. I was a still a little worried and embarrassed about them as GIRLs perhaps seeing us in a state of undress, but if nobody else brought it up, I certainly wasn't going to mention it.

Now that that was settled, it was time for some good Bikini Beach fun. I was quite happy to see Bikini Beach restored to its usual state.

At one point, we were sitting at the edge of a pool, relaxing, dipping our toes in the water. Nancy and Cindy joined us.

"I heard about last night. You okay, Lucy?" Nancy asked.

"Let's see. A pretty lady clarinetist tells me she's my male clarinet instructor." I blushed again, wincing, but then managed to recover. "I discover that Bikini Beach changes boys to girls -- and that two of my new girlfriends here were guys. One was a friend from school last year. The other -- it seems that I remember her as a girl while Carol remembers her as a guy -- when she was a guy. Let's see, anything else utterly messed up? I can't think of anything off-hand. So yeah, I'm perfectly fine."

"I think Lucy's still disturbed," said Carol. "Heck, I only discovered Bikini Beach's transformation tendencies by accident a few days ago, after I met up with Vernon and Lucy in the parking lot a few days ago. Come to think of it, Nancy, you don't seem surprised, shocked, or even disbelieving at this. Why?"

"I learned about it last spring vacation, myself. It's not something one talks about. So of course, I never told you or Mom or Dad. Nobody but Cindy; as BFFs, we don't keep secrets from each other." Nancy and Cindy smiled at each other.

"This bugs me: why would a guy ever go to a girls-only water park?" asked Alice. "A park that bills itself as for girls only?"

"Oh, several reasons, Alice," answered Vanessa. "Perhaps he missed the `girls only' part, or misread it. Maybe he thinks the 'girls only' doesn't really apply to him, or he's just thinking with a baser appendage. Sometimes a family goes as a whole, again missing the 'girls only' part, or someone already knows the Bikini Beach secret.

"In *my* case," continued Vanessa. "My first visit came when Mom discovered Bikini Beach and decided to take Helen. I told a friend, who then informed me that they accept boys at that girls-only water park I didn't believe him, and he dared me to try to get admitted. Double-dared me. He promised to reimburse my ticket if I did. His sister, who's also a friend, lent me a wig, a dress, and a swimsuit -- it was a one-piece, and it turned out to be the one and only time I wore a one-piece at Bikini Beach. She also put on a little makeup to soften the curves of my face. I wondered if this would be enough to make everyone believe I was a girl." She laughed.

We all laughed, and it took a minute or so to calm down again and let her continue her story.

"I took the bus to Bikini Beach the same day that Mom took Helen. I was a little scared that someone might recognize me as a boy dressed like a girl, and beat me up, but nothing happened -- except that one woman on the bus told me I looked nothing like a girl. In any case, I made it to Bikini Beach, got in line, and managed to avoid chickening out. The saleslady was an old woman -- Grandmother herself, as I found out later. I didn't think I fooled her, but she did sell me a `guest pass'. It was far more expensive than I thought it would be, but I did have the cash; it took most of my lunch money. I gave my name as Vanessa, the first one I could think of beginning with V, and with the n-sound in the middle.

"On my way to the changing rooms, I was surprised to see a men's changing room, and decided to use that. Of course, nobody else was there. I showered nude -- I always do at public swimming pools -- and felt myself change. When it ended, I checked myself out in the mirror. I bore no resemblance to the girl my friends tried to make me into. I was much taller, for one, and with shorter hair.

"Both Grandmother and Anya entered, while I was still nude. Grandmother was obviously trying to hold her amusement in, while maintaining a stern visage. After saying, `You see now how we can admit boys to a girls-only water park, young lady,' she told me that my change lasts until around midnight. I automatically answered `Vanessa' when asked my name. Grandmother told me that everyone but myself, herself, and Anya would know and remember me only as Vanessa until I changed back. Finally, Grandmother admitted that I'd provided her with a certain amusement, in my attempt to disguise myself as a girl to get in. I was obviously harmless and friendly towards girls.

"That's when Anya spoke for the first time. I still remember with a certain mortification what she said: `I only accompanied Grandmother because I really wanted to meet a guy who had the gall to disguise himself as a girl to get admitted to a girl's water park, and doing such a God-awful job at it.'" Vanessa both shuddered and laughed, and we laughed as well.

"Anya and I became friendly acquaintances. I also met up with another girl who was alone and seemed a bit lonely, and we stayed together the rest of the day -- and as it turned out, every visit since. She was Carol, of course." Vanessa looked over and smiled at Carol.

Carol said, "That was my lucky day. Usually, I came with Nancy and Cindy, and spent the day with them. But that day, they couldn't come. I came by myself, and was feeling rather lonely and not really enjoying the water rides and activities. Then I met Vanessa. And the rest is history."

Vanessa continued, "Late morning, we met up with Mom and Helen, and I understood how things had really changed. I heard Helen's piercing scream, `Hey, Vanessa!' Of course, you recall Helen couldn't have known that morning that I would be there, let alone the name I was going to pick out. And when we got together, Mom said, `So you decided to come after all, Vanessa.' Of course, I introduced Carol.

"Mom was rather confused the next morning about me having joined them, yet somehow fitting in, not standing out as a lone boy, her not objecting. But it was only when Mom took Helen and me for the second visit that Mom learned about the transformations. Of course, Anya was the saleslady then, and she could barely contain her mirth as she sold all three of us guest passes. I could barely contain my embarrassment when she observed that I didn't try that disguise this time.

"Oh, my friend did honor the bet, and reimbursed me the cost of the pass. So that's my story, and sorry it took so long."

"Hey, Becky, let's hear your story," said Carol.

"Yeah!" agreed the rest of us.

"It's not very interesting," said Becky. "Aunt Yuko brought me. She got me a summer membership. I think she wanted to make me a girl for the summer. Of course, she didn't tell me." She looked over at Aunt Yuko.

"That was part of the reason. But part was simply that I enjoyed evenings and weekends relaxing at Bikini Beach, and I wanted you to enjoy it as well. As for the girl part, yeah. It's because your parents sprung you on me suddenly, without warning or explanation. They just insisted I keep Bruce for the summer."

"It was just as sudden and surprising for me too. All I know is that my parents wanted me out of there. Scary and exciting, too, the prospect of living with my hot aunt." Becky giggled. "I wondered if I would finally get to have sex."

We all laughed at that, although my laughter was the laughter of embarrassment. I was amazed and embarrassed at the turn this conversation was taking.

"Flatterer!" said Aunt Yuko, blushing. "For me, the question was whether I'd be able to hold out against the irresistible temptation of my young hunk of a nephew living with me in my one-bedroom condo. I decided to play it safe -- or at least safer -- and have my niece instead. I've known about Bikini Beach transformations for a long time."

"Of course," said Becky, "I knew my opportunity to have sex as a guy vanished once Bikini Beach changed me to a girl. I still recall that first day." Becky giggled. "So excited about seeing all the bikini-clad girls, knowing I would be with them, talk with them, even play with them, and so forth. Of course, it didn't occur to me that I would actually BE one of them." Becky giggled some more. "Then when I was alone in the men's changing room, in the middle of showering I suddenly felt strange and peculiar, all over. It wasn't just the sudden lengthening of my hair, or the sudden spurt of boobs, or how my dick and balls got swallowed up to be replaced by a pussy."

"Becky, can't you be more delicate in your language? There are girls here!" That was Vanessa. I agreed; did Becky have to be so blunt?

"Oh, my humble apologies -- I meant to say `cunt'." Becky stuck out her tongue, and Vanessa rolled her eyes and threw up her hands. "Anyway, my whole body felt strange and bizarre -- perhaps like Daffy Duck when the paintbrush turned him into a crawling flower.

"I really freaked out when I looked in the mirror and saw myself as a young version of Aunt Yuko in nothing but a bikini bottom. You girls who've worn bikinis all your life don't realize how brief a bikini bottom really is." She giggled. "And as a boy, one wants to ogle cute girls in skimpy clothing. One doesn't want to BE one! One would just die from embarrassment."

"Sometimes I do," I said. "Not die of embarrassment, I mean. Notice how skimpy a bikini is, especially with Pa's distaste of girls in bikinis and skimpy clothes. Come to think of it, I sometimes do come close to dying from embarrassment, when I'm by myself and think back on myself in this bikini." I looked down at myself. "I probably would die of embarrassment and something else, if Pa ever caught me in this. I mean, my underwear covers a lot more than this bikini."

"You have a sense of how I felt," said Becky, as she continued her story. "I had no idea how or why it happened, and I burst out in tears, for the first time in perhaps five years.

"An old woman -- the woman we now know as Grandmother, the founder of Bikini Beach -- came in and tossed me the matching bikini top. `Snap out of it, young lady, and put your top on. We don't allow topless bathing.' I snapped out of it, and quickly put the top on -- not that it made me feel any more covered. Facing a stern Grandmother-type practically naked is a position one doesn't want to be in, boy or girl." She snorted, and I shuddered in sympathy.

"Grandmother toned down the sternness somewhat, and told me a few things. Bikini Beach was a girls-only water park, designed as a place for girls and women to enjoy themselves without the discomfort of guys ogling us -- the standard line, you know." She giggled some more. "She didn't say anything about girls ogling us. I would remain a girl the entire summer, until the pass expired. She also warned me that I should pick out a name fairly soon. If I didn't, someone else might do it, or even Bikini Beach itself might choose. She said a few other things that I don't remember, and then told me to go out and find my aunt, who knew quite a bit about Bikini Beach, for further explanation, and enjoy Bikini Beach. She promptly left.

"I did manage to work up the nerve to go outside in that bikini. This was almost like those nightmares I used to have, where I find myself naked outside and in horrible trouble. Here I was, practically naked, walking around outside. The major consolation was that practically everyone else was in the same boat. But I was still dreading meeting Aunt Yuko, while wearing that bikini.

"I did find Aunt Yuko. I was almost as shocked as I would have been as a boy, seeing her in her own bikini. For once, I was glad of my new gender. Otherwise, my bikini bottom would have bulged out so bad -- maybe followed by something even worse. `Welcome to your new sex for the summer,' she greeted me. For some reason this struck me as utterly hilarious. I was beginning to learn how my personality had changed as well as my body. I'm all too inclined to giggle or burst out laughing, as well as to burst out in tears. I'm less likely to nurse a grudge -- I quickly put my encounter with Grandmother behind me. Bruce the boy might have been unable to enjoy Bikini Beach the rest of the day, or even the rest of the summer."

"And, of course, you couldn't continue to call yourself Bruce," Carol put in.

Becky laughed. "Actually, I probably could have. Imagine a giggly, silly, air-headed, hyper girl named Bruce. But yeah, Grandmother warned me, and Aunt Yuko told me several times, that I had to choose a name. It took me a while. I was disturbed and upset at times about my tendency to giggle and go all silly, but Aunt Yuko persuaded me to stop worrying and enjoy it. I eventually chose a silly, girly name to match the silly, girly me -- Becky, of course."

I never thought of Becky as a silly, girly name. Why would she think that?

Becky continued. "Things changed at home -- Aunt Yuko's, that is. For example, my old eighth-grade student ID now shows `Becky Miura' and my clothes also changed. Many other possessions changed: that poster of Richard Feynman I had on the wall changed to a hunk of an older boy, muscular arms, six-pack torso, wearing a loincloth -- a short, very loose one -- with a hot bikini-clad girl clinging to each arm."

"I would have preferred to keep the Feynman poster," said Carol.

"Euh, I would have liked both. But I like that poster, with three hot babes. Anyway, sometimes at the mall or other places, I meet guys and girls I knew at school. None of them recognize me, of course, and I never tell them who I am. Apparently, that's different from Vanessa's experience."

"Yeah, everyone except Mom and Helen who knew me as Vernon now knows me as Vanessa, and thinks I was always Vanessa. With Dad at least, that's probably a good thing. I can only imagine what Dad would do to me as Vernon, if he knew I turned into a girl routinely."

Aunt Yuko added, "Vanessa's version is the norm for Bikini Beach -- they call it a reality shift, and apparently they change the past so that Vanessa always existed. But I didn't want that, and demanded no reality shift. I just find it creepy and scary, and we had no one who needed to recognize Bruce as Becky, or Becky as Bruce, or whatever."

"The few times I almost encountered Mom or Dad anywhere, I ducked out of the way, and they never saw me. The very idea of Mom and Dad seeing me as Becky is mortifying, even if they didn't know I was their son Bruce. I have no idea what they would think if they saw me. I suspect that Mom might think I was Aunt Yuko suddenly de-aged -- or Mom's younger self, coming out of the past.

"I don't wanna find out. And the *last* thing I wanna see is Dad with a boner." Becky shuddered again. "I wish I hadn't thought of that! I'll never be able to unsee it!"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get over it," said Alice. "I have a really hard time thinking of you as embarrassed wearing a bikini. I mean, you do it so naturally, and you're so outwardly assertively perverted."

"Yeah," agreed Becky. "I've become ever more aggressively exhibitionist and -- let's admit it -- perverted. I so delight in being silly. I haven't yet worked up the nerve to wear bikinis while outside doing my regular stuff, shopping at the mall or the grocery store, going to Burger King and pizza places and ice cream joints."

"You came close today, with your bikini top and short cut-offs," said Alice.

I broke in. "Pa sometimes rants about how girls these days exhibited themselves in clothes common street-walkers would have been ashamed to wear in the good old days. I remember it took me a while to figure out that `street-walker' meant something beyond walking the streets." I blushed.

"Lucy, you are heartwarmingly innocent," said Vanessa.

"Yeah," added Becky. "You probably don't even wear tampons during your period." I blushed at that, and nodded. "My first period -- now that was a story. But let's get back to clean wholesome fun -- that very first day, I met Vanessa and Carol having that kind of fun. Which reminds me, what are we doing just all sitting here?" Becky stood up and dove into the pool.

Right at the same time, a mob of eight-, nine-, and ten-year-old girls, followed by a couple of hapless moms, hit the pool. Becky was right. Relax time was over for us, as they all dove into the pool and began playing.

Someone jumped on my back just as I began getting up -- "Ooof -- Ruth!"

"Guess what, Lucy!"

"What?"

I almost expected her to say, "That's what!" but she didn't. "I got my pass here upgraded to life-time!" She giggled.

One mustn't be jealous of one's baby sister, and I did my best to push it aside. It was childish to exclaim, "It's not fair!" After all, the eight-year pass she already had was already a virtual lifetime. But I still had only my measly two-week pass -- and only because Mrs. King got me mine the same time she got Vanessa's -- Vernon's?

Anyway, I said, "Congratulations," unable to think of anything else to say.

We enjoyed the rest of Bikini Beach afternoon and evening. I played with Ruth as much as with the girls.

When we went home, we didn't all have to squeeze in Aunt Yuko's car, because Vanessa's mom was here and willing to take some of us home. After a last embrace with Alice, Carol, and Becky, Jen and I joined Vanessa, Helen, and Ruth in the car, and we went home.

Eventually, we got home. I thanked Mrs. King, and got out. I was nervous about encountering Pa in my shorts, considering his dislike of girls in skimpy clothing. Pa was in fact home, and sitting in the living room, but Ruth managed to distract him enough while I slipped upstairs to my room.

I was pretty sleepy from the activities, so I changed into my nightgown. I did want to thank Ruth, though, so I got into a robe and went downstairs where Ruth was talking with Pa.

I tapped Ruth on the shoulder. "Thank you, Ruth," I said when she turned toward me.

She looked puzzled, and it took a couple glances at Pa, before she got the context. "Oh. You're welcome," she answered with a smile.

I returned upstairs and went to bed, falling asleep instantaneously.

Sunday, July 6th

I woke up a bit late Sunday morning, but with plenty of time to get dressed up for Church. I was thinking all sorts of things -- bikini-clad lady Brandon, Bikini Beach changing people, Becky as last year's school friend Bruce, Vanessa as a guy, my apparently false memory of Vanessa as herself?

I put a bathrobe over my nightgown, and went downstairs for breakfast and the Mental Work on tape. (We didn't have to listen to the Lesson, because it would be read aloud in Church that morning.) I was feeling rather body shy that morning, and definitely didn't want Pa to see any sign of what I knew my body displayed: various shades of tan, corresponding to the various types of swimsuits I'd worn to Bikini Beach. Not that I ever wanted him to see me naked anyway.

I had another insight when the recording got to the Rule for Motives and Acts: "Neither animosity nor mere personal attachment shall impel the motives and acts of members of this Church." I realized that my issue with Brandon involved "mere personal attachment," which was very different from the Divine Love of God, that Christian Scientists aspired to reflect and in reality did reflect. I hoped that I could hold fast to that understanding, but I was too often swayed in my thoughts.

Afterwards, I went back upstairs to shower and change into Sunday clothes. I always dressed up for Sunday School more like a child than a teenager. Teens dressing up resembles more the teen-girl fashion magazines that I found all too irresistible -- they were quite sexy. On the other hand, I recalled the admonishments of both Jesus and Mrs. Eddy to become childlike -- distinct from childish of course. I blushed remembering how sexy I'd dressed up on Friday to attract and impress Brandon.

I decided on a plain sky-blue short-sleeved dress with a collar, extending down to just above the knees. A pair of navy-blue socks and hard black flat shoes completed the outfit. Maintaining my young and innocent look, I brushed my hair down and back, and added a pair of clips to keep the side fringes out of my eyes.

Ruth knocked on the door, and entered at my answer. She was dressed very much like me, except that her dress was yellow. That wasn't a surprise, as Ma got us both similar dresses. "Please brush my hair, Lucy?" she requested. I brushed her hair, in the same style as my own. In the mirror, I saw that we looked very much like younger and older versions of the same person.

Ma drove us to Sunday School. As we entered the building, we met her teacher, Mrs. Vancourt.

"Oh my, the two of you look gorgeous in your coordinated older-younger-sister outfits! It just goes to illustrate that there is One Mind."

I wanted to say something like, "No, it just goes to show that Ma gets the same kind of church and dinner dresses for Ruth and me." But I didn't think it until way too late.

Sunday School began shortly. My class had only three students -- me, a girl a year younger, and a boy two years older who was sorta cute, but didn't really interest me -- he wasn't Brandon. My class was routine; we discussed a few things from the Lesson and how modern material theories were mere counterfeits of God's Laws."

In church, I tried to pay proper attention to the church service, but Error kept whispering in my ear that things were boring, that I'd already heard this, and other distracting thoughts. Brandon as a pretty bikini-clad lady -- I'd really freaked out there. I'd learned that Bikini Beach transformed boys to girls -- and that two of the girls were transformed boys -- GIRLs. Did I really learn that, or was that all just a dream? No, we'd gone over it both Friday and Saturday.

Bruce, my classmate, the science geek with a subtle and sophisticated sense of humor, that I sometimes had lunch with at school -- the same as Becky? The boy who sometimes talked with me -- once even joined me when my family went to a movie and he was there? I definitely couldn't see Becky the same way as before, and I was sure that I wouldn't be able to see Bruce the same when summer ended.

Vanessa said that she was Vernon, and when Bikini Beach changed her to Vanessa, they changed everything else to reflect that, including everyone's memories -- except her own and her mother's? Including my memories? Did I ever see her as Vernon, and then get my memories shifted? I couldn't remember...

Of course I couldn't remember! That was the whole point of it, wasn't it? Mental malpractice indeed! Oh yes, it was Tuesday. Mrs. King had gotten both of us two-week memberships. Carol was with us, and she remembered Vernon while I remembered Vanessa. The change ended when the pass expired, and so she must have been Vernon at the time. Grrrrrr!

The First Reader interrupted my thoughts by announcing the "Moment of silent prayer, followed by the audible recitation of the Lord's Prayer with its spiritual interpretation as given in the Christian Science textbook." Error had distracted me again. During the silent prayer, I held fast to the thought that "God is Truth," leaving no room for any belief in a lie, no room for memories to be changed. That was interrupted when the Second Reader began the Lord's Prayer, joined by the congregation, including, of course, myself.

Every month, one of the passages of the Mental Work was read in church, during the notices: "A Rule for Motives and Acts." I wondered if God was sending me a message through the Rule. I continued wondering, as the soloist sang an unrecognizable operatic song. "Animosity"? "Mere personal affection"? I couldn't think of anything other than the issue with Brandon... Brandon... Brandon sitting next to me, advising me with my clarinet playing... Brandon as a pretty bikini-clad lady clarinetist...

I shot my eyes open as the Second Reader began with the first Bible passage of the Lesson, realizing that my mind had wandered again. That was Error. I had to retain focus on the Truth, on the Lesson. Apparently, I had fogged out during the Responsive Reading. This was serious Error. I vowed to focus on the Lesson and block out all extraneous influences.

The Lesson was totally familiar; I'd helped record it Monday, and and we listened to it every day since. I yawned, remembering a relaxing floating tire trip around a river with the girls, just lying there in the tire, soaking up sun, occasionally splashed, a happy time before July 4th. I wished that we could all go back, that the unpleasantness of July 4th could be undone. How could Brandon have been a pretty lady, anyway? Vanessa as a carefree boy? Becky being my friend Bruce from school, sometimes leching over us? Bikini Beach changing reality, and changing everyone's memories. False memories and mind control, grrrrrrr! I shifted in agitation.

Darn, I'd drifted again. Again I vowed, I would not concern myself with such things. Focus, Lucy, focus! The Readers were already in the fifth section of the Lesson. I hoped with all the events and distraction, I practiced enough for piano lesson tomorrow. I didn't want to disappoint Mrs. Prudence. Ballet was okay; we weren't supposed to actually practice at home.

Church service eventually ended, leaving me feeling guilty that I hadn't paid attention more. While Ma spent the time socializing after church service, Ruth talked with the others in her class, including the new summer visitor, Beth. I chatted some with the other girl in my class, and the older boy stuck his nose in a few times, trying to flirt with both of us and being ridiculous.

Eventually, we returned home for our Sunday dinner. Afterwards, Daisy came over to play with Ruth, and I went to the library for the afternoon. Of course, I couldn't resist my addiction to those naughty teen magazines.

I returned home when the library closed, arriving just before the Sunday night snack. Daisy was still there, apparently going to stay for supper.

Afterwards, at Daisy's insistence, I joined Daisy and Ruth in a game of Life. At one point, while Ruth had to go to the bathroom, Daisy said, "Ruth changed. She was different before."

"How different?" I asked.

She looked down, and paused before answering. "I... I... I don't know. I just can't say. Something's different." She appeared embarrassed now.

I tried to think if there was anything different. "It seems to me that she's just the same as she's always been."

Ruth returned, so we couldn't talk any further. We returned to the game, which Daisy handily won.

Daisy and Ruth went to bed, and I practiced a half hour on the piano. The next day, I would have piano lessons, followed by ballet class."

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 9

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.

Monday, July 7th

As usual, we listened to the Mental Work over breakfast. Then Ma and Pa recorded this week's lesson sermon, the Subject being "Sacrament." I had piano lessons and ballet with Ruth today. I made sure I practiced a full hour on piano, in addition to half an hour on clarinet. I wanted to be fully prepared for Mrs. Prudence's lesson. She was a nice old lady, and I didn't want to disappoint her.

The piano lesson, it turned out, went well. Afterwards, I walked over to the mall where ballet classes were held, and was promptly accosted by--

"Carol!" I exclaimed.

"Lucy!" She grabbed me in a fierce hug, holding my head to her breasts. "Happy to see you!"

"I'm glad to see you, too. So what are you up to?"

"I was hoping to see a friend. I always miss my friends on off-days."

Well, that was flattering! "I have ballet in about fifteen minutes." We began walking in that direction. "I'm gonna meet Ruth and Ma."

"Did you talk with your parents about the sleepover?" asked Carol.

"Not since Saturday, when we first broached the idea. But Ma was enthusiastic, you remember. I'm sure there won't be a problem.

"Our latest plans are Bikini Beach Thursday, sleepover Thursday night, spend Friday all day together, sleepover Friday night, and all day at Bikini Beach Saturday. We'll be together three whole days! The sleepover's at Becky's Aunt Yuko's place. So far, Vanessa's, Jen's, and my parents have agreed."

"I have clarinet and ballet Friday, you know."

"That's no problem. We'll make sure you get there on time."

We arrived at the ballet studio just as Ma arrived with Ruth. Ruth stepped out of the car, already dressed for ballet except for sneakers, and Ma drove off in a bit of a hurry.

"Hey, Carol," said Ruth. "We're here for ballet."

"Yeah, I know. I guess I'll go visit the bookstore in the meanwhile."

Ruth began warm-up exercises while I changed into my own leotard and tights. The class went as usual, and I worked up a good sweat by the time it was over. Rather than change back completely, I slipped my jeans over my tights and leotard, and changed my shoes. Ruth simply remained in her ballet clothes, but changed back to sneakers.

Carol was outside waiting, to my surprise. Ma wasn't here to pick us up. I guess we finally persuaded Ma we were capable of walking home on our own.

"Is it okay if I join you?" asked Carol.

"Oh, of course," I answered happily. I took Ruth's hand, and Carol took mine, to my surprise. The three of us walked the mile or so home, hand in hand.

"Have you noticed anything about Vanessa and Jen?" asked Carol.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Jen always seems to stay close to Vanessa."

"Helen says that Vanessa and Jen like each other," said Ruth with a giggle.

"I guess Vanessa does seem protective of Jen," I hazarded. "She helped Jen the most, when we first met her." I paused, and then said, "I wonder what Jen would think if she ever met Vernon."

"My memories are confused about Vernon, except of course that he's a nice, cheerful, rather cute guy. I'm sure he and Jen would hit it off. What confuses me is this: I only met him as Vernon last Tuesday -- but at that time I remembered always being with him, the guy, not Vanessa the girl. It's hard to explain."

"Bikini Beach transformations are designed to confuse the daylights out of anyone who tries to understand them," I said sarcastically. And freak the daylights out of them. I kept that to myself. I remembered only Vanessa last Tuesday; never the boy Vernon.

"Oh my God -- thanks, Carol!" said Ruth. "I was confused; I was sure I remembered a boy then, and you reminded me his name. But then it was always Helen's big sister, Vanessa. So Vanessa was really a boy, and Bikini Beach changed him to a girl?"

"Apparently," I said while that Carol answered, "Yes."

"Gee, I wonder what Ma would say if she knew that Bikini Beach changed boys to girls," said Ruth.

"That's the least of the problem, Ruth," I said. "Bikini Beach may have made me falsely remember Vernon as Vanessa that day. And Friday and Saturday, Vanessa talked about Bikini Beach making people remember her as always Vanessa -- even her dad. Mental malpractice."

"You know what this means," said Carol. "Bikini Beach could have changed either of you from a guy, and made the other one not remember -- think you were always the person. You would remember the other person as if she always was that person."

I shuddered. "If it's possible to make someone else forget you and falsely remember you, it's also possible to make you forget and falsely remember yourself."

"Um, Ruth?" Carol said hesitatingly. "Your Ma got you an eight-year membership?"

"Yes," answered Ruth. "Then last Saturday, it was upgraded to lifetime." She sounded happy. "I was surprised when they did it."

Carol whistled. I still couldn't help bristling at the unfairness of it. Ma kept getting me these one-day passes, and only Mrs. King got me the two-week pass I had now.

"Do you know why your Ma decided to upgrade your membership?" asked Carol.

"Ma didn't do it. I slept over at a friend of Ma's, and she took me to Bikini Beach that morning and got it upgraded."

"I really doubt that your Ma's friend would have done it without Ma's permission. Did you often sleep over at her friend's house?" said Carol.

"No, this was the first time, and I don't know why she did it. She was almost a stranger to me. I think I only saw her when Ma had those Tuesday night meetings at our house," said Ruth. "I only learned her name that night -- Mrs. Winstead."

"The Firmlove meetings," I said.

"Firmlove?" said Carol. "I've heard of them. I remember some people at school calling them the Nazi parents. Now why would Ruth be sent to spend the night with a fellow Firmlove family? I recall Friday evening, your Ma took Ruth home early. Why? What happened Friday at Bikini Beach?"

"I can't think of anything," I said. "I remember that Ruth and I were both bored with that career thing, and we decided to go off together. I also felt that we'd done very little together at Bikini Beach, and that we should spend more time and do more things together there. I didn't mean anything against you or the girls," I hastened to clarify. "But why didn't I tell one of you, at least? So that Ma wouldn't worry about Ruth in particular. I don't know what I was thinking then."

Carol said, "Maybe at supper, hearing that girl tell about having a lifetime membership made you want one as well, Ruth."

"No-no-no, it didn't," answered Ruth, a little huffily. "I don't even remember a girl saying that, let alone getting so desirous of a lifetime membership that I would do something to get me taken home early and sent elsewhere for the night. In fact, I don't remember doing anything that made Ma mad at me."

"I do know you said something," said Carol. "I don't remember what, though." I couldn't remember, either.

We spent the next several minutes in silence, me pondering over the strangeness. Then Carol returned to the subject of the sleepover. "If you want, I'll speak to your Ma about the sleepover."

"I'll try to ask Ma," I said. "If I wimp out, you can try. I'm sure it will be okay. Of course, we won't tell her that Vanessa and Becky are really -- what was that term again -- GIRLs." It had a certain naughtiness, the very idea of a sleepover with boys involved -- a certain naughtiness and a certain excitement. Ma and Pa would never allow me to sleep over with guys.

"I think I should talk with your Ma," said Carol. "Even if she doesn't know anything about GIRLs and Bikini Beach transformations, she might still detect something in your tone or looks -- the sense that you're hiding something possibly forbidden. Mothers' intuition is usually children's transparency."

Eventually, we got home. Ruth's friend Daisy was sitting on the front steps waiting. "Ruth!" she jumped up and ran up to Ruth and grabbed her hands, pulling her into an embrace.

"That's Ruth's best friend, Daisy," I told Carol.

"Apparently, it's been a while since they last saw each other," commented Carol.

"No, they were together yesterday afternoon," I said. "I guess that we took longer than usual to get home, and Daisy had to wait. There's also the problem that Bikini Beach has been taking Ruth away from Daisy. Ruth's made many new friends at Bikini Beach."

"Well, Daisy could come to Bikini Beach," said Carol. "She'd have fun there with Ruth and the other girls."

"Her parents refuse to have anything to do with Bikini Beach, and won't allow her to go."

"But why?"

"She hasn't said. I don't think she knows. However, when I think about it, I would want to avoid anything that changes my thinking or my memories. I'm afraid that Bikini Beach is making us unconcerned about that."

Ruth and Daisy went inside. "Let's go in." I took Carol's hand and followed them in. "I wanna get out of this leotard and tights. It's too hot under these jeans."

"... didn't have to wait too long," Ma was telling Ruth. "Oh, Carol. Hello and welcome."

Ruth was heading upstairs. "I need to change as well," I said as I followed her.

Setting my knapsack down, I removed my jeans, setting them aside. I tossed my leotard and tights into the hamper. Realizing how I needed a shower, I put on my bathrobe.

Ruth got the shower first, so I went back downstairs to talk with Carol and the others.

"Carol told me about your planned sleepover," Ma said. "I will have to phone Becky's aunt, of course, but I think it's an excellent idea. Brings back memories of pajama parties when I was in junior high."

Carol handed Ma a sheet. "These are all our numbers. Becky's Aunt Yuko is probably at work now. She may be home this evening, although I hear she likes to go to Bikini Beach in the evenings.

"Lucy!" called Ruth from upstairs. "The bathroom's free!" So I went up for a short shower -- ah, felt great to clean off.

Back in my room, I couldn't decide whether to put the jeans back on, or to wear shorts. I compromised on a pair of capris, pants ending a few inches below the knees.

I enjoyed playing with Ruth and Daisy, so the four of us (including Carol) played outside the rest of the afternoon. Daisy and Carol then stayed for dinner. It was a bit strange -- Ruth and I had to dress up for dinner, while Daisy and Carol as guests didn't have to change.

After dinner, I practiced a little on the piano, and Ma called Becky's aunt about the planned sleepover. My piano practice was interrupted when Ma said, "Great news, Lucy! The sleepover is on!" Ma was as excited as if she were participating.

I noticed Pa and Carol were talking together on the sofa. We spent the next hour or so watching a flick -- Disney's "Aladdin" It had to be suitable for the younger girls. It was one of the rare times that Pa allowed us into his office, where the television was. Then Ruth and I went with Ma to take Carol home, dropping off Daisy on the way. Ruth wanted Daisy to spend the night, but Daisy had some kind of appointment for the next morning.

Carol quickly hugged me as she got out, when we reached her home. "Tomorrow at Bikini Beach, right?"

"Right!" I answered, putting aside my concerns about Bikini Beach.

Ma drove us home, in silence. We had nothing to say.

Tuesday, July 8th

The next morning, after breakfast, the Mental Work, and the Lesson, and Pa's departure for work, Ruth and I were in our swimsuits and ready when the Kings came to pick us up.

The girls and I had our usual wonderful Bikini-Beach day. Today, I made sure that I spent a few hours with Ruth -- just the two of us together. It seemed as though I got to know her better that way. The girls didn't begrudge me the time away from them -- in fact, I found out afterwards that Vanessa tried to do the same with Helen, but Helen wasn't interested.

This led to discussion about each of us playing with and enjoying life with our siblings. Carol had her own issue with her older sister Nancy: "Nancy is always with Cindy, and when I'm with them, I always feel a little bit left out."

Becky had her own comment about her big brother: "Right now, I feel like I simply couldn't let Tracy see me as a girl. I'd be just too embarrassed. But maybe I'd get over it. Perhaps I could pose as an unknown cousin, and have Aunt Yuko set me up for a date with Tracy. Or maybe we could lure him to Bikini Beach."

Of course, we eventually had to go home. Ma was at her weekly Firmlove meeting when we got home, so only Pa was there. I was nervous about Pa seeing me in my swimsuit, even though it was one-piece -- Pa didn't like girls dressed skimpily. He was grudgingly okay with one-piece suits for swimming though, but I was still uncomfortable. In general, I was uncomfortable with Pa seeing me dressed skimpily or sexily. So I quickly made my way to my room to change into sleepwear and robe.

I returned downstairs to have a snack and practice the piano. Ma came home from her Firmlove meeting, all fired up and angry. She came into the living room and promptly began telling Pa an angry story. I stopped my piano playing, to avoid interfering with Ma and Pa's discussion.

Ma was furious, and I listened with interest. I noticed Ruth at the top of the stairs, also listening -- curious no doubt as to what infuriated Ma so.

"When the meeting broke up, Mrs. Winstead took me aside. She asked me how Ruth was doing now, and I told her that like always, Ruth is a good little girl."

I saw Ruth cringe at that description of her, and I winced too. I could just imagine what she thought: "Good little girl, hrmph!"

Ma continued. "Mrs. Winstead looked at me strangely, and then asked if Ruth was no longer persistently protesting her innocence of Jill Denison's murder. I was so fuming at this outrage -- one of the few times I was seriously tempted to curse." Ma turned to me. "I assure you, Lucy, I resisted the temptation." She went on with her story. "I was fuming so much, that I almost missed what she said next, about Ruth dropping clues all around that she was really a seventeen-year-old Peter, changed by Bikini Beach to nine-year-old Ruth -- Ruth accusing Bikini Beach and me of mental malpractice. I was just sputtering at the sheer craziness of it all, and I couldn't say a thing. I just up and departed, right then and there.

"In the car, I realized I had to calm down to drive home safely. I recited to myself the Lord's Prayer, the Daily Prayer, and finally the Rule for Motives and Acts. It was good to remind myself that `Neither animosity nor mere personal affection shall impel the motives or acts of members of the Mother Church.' I was sufficiently calmed down to drive home. The funny thing is that Mrs. Winstead seemed shocked at my reaction. She didn't even recognize how crazy she sounded."

Hmmm.... This was quite interesting. I would definitely have found it crazy, had I not learned last Friday about Bikini Beach Transformations and also Bikini Beach's tendency to make people forget or even implant false memories. I disagreed with Ma, and thought that Mrs. Winstead knew how crazy she would sound to those who didn't know anything about it; she'd waited until she was alone with Ma before broaching the subject.

If Mrs. Winstead was right, then Bikini Beach had wiped and replaced all our memories through July 4th -- the day before Ruth got the lifetime membership. I'd wondered about several things, and decided simply to ask Ma. I had the idea that her response would indicate whether she'd forgotten everything or Mrs. Winstead was crazy.

"Ma?"

"Yes, Lucy?"

"I've been wondering several things. July 4th, why did you take Ruth home early and then have her sleep at Mrs. Winstead's house? Why did you upgrade Ruth's Bikini Beach membership to lifetime?"

"Young lady," said Ma. "You know by now -- what are you not supposed to do? Tell us."

"Yes, Ma. One does not question one's elders. They know better, and they know what's best for us. I'm very sorry." I lowered my face, and hopefully had a sufficiently contrite expression, totally fake, covering my own fuming. I was pretty sure now, Ma had forgotten why she did those things, and was just covering up.

"Very good, Lucy."

"I think I'll head off to bed now," I said, actually hoping to talk to Ruth. I thought I'd heard enough, although Ruth probably would want to stay and hear more.

By the time I reached the stairs, Ruth had slipped back upstairs and to the door to my room. She pulled my head down and whispered in my ear, "Ma's forgotten. Just like us. Please, Lucy, before going to bed, write down what Mrs. Winstead told Ma. I want to hear more of what Ma has to say to Pa." She slipped into her own room, and emerged with a clipboard and pencil and paper, and slipped back to where she could eavesdrop without being seen.

I went to my room, and sat at my desk, trying to recall what Ma had said. The murder of Alice's cousin Jill! Ruth proclaiming herself innocent! Ruth trying to tell us that she was an older boy named Peter? How old? Oh, yes. Seventeen. A year older than Jill was when she was murdered. We first came to Bikini Beach only two and a half weeks earlier. If Mrs. Winstead was right, Ruth would have been Peter at the time of Jill's murder. I tried writing down not only what Mrs. Winstead said, but also my own ideas. Darn-it, I was just too darn sleepy.

I finally decided to go to bed.

Wednesday, July 9th

I woke up from barely-remembered dreams of memories being almost wiped, repeatedly. They never actually got wiped, but the process was always, repeatedly, begun. I slipped into Ruth's room, where she was lying in bed awake.

"Ma didn't say anything new last night," said Ruth. "She just repeated herself a few times, working herself into a fury until Pa suggested applying Christian Science. She breathed and finally calmed down."

I sat on her bed, we both waited a few minutes in silence. Then I said, "So Bikini Beach changed you? From a seventeen-year-old boy named Peter to you? And made us all forget everything?"

"This is so strange," said Ruth. "Seventeen years is so long. I mean, it'll take forever before I'm as old as you, Lucy."

I couldn't bring myself to mention the murder aspect. Especially with it being Alice's cousin. I didn't believe Ruth or whoever she was would murder anyone. But I did notice something. "Your eight-year membership? That would have ended when you were seventeen."

"Oh... oh... oh..." Ruth seemed unable to say anything else.

I spent Wednesday morning part of the time playing with Ruth and Daisy, part of the time helping Ma with chores. The only activity we had today was ballet.

I changed into my ballet leotard and tights at home. This time, I didn't put on the wrap-around skirt or jeans over my tights. If Ruth and I walked home, I'd be walking in my ballet kit just as Ruth always did. Hey, if Ruth could do it, so could I.

When ballet was over, Carol accosted us again. She hugged both of us this time, commenting, "Wow, you've definitely worked up a sweat, both of you. You look cute, almost sexy, in your leotard and tights!"

"I'm happy to see you too, Carol," I answered. "Let's go." Carol took my hand, and this time Ruth took Carol's other hand as we walked home.

Carol spent the afternoon here. As was becoming the practice, Daisy and Carol both stayed for dinner. Ruth and I, as usual, had to dress up for dinner. I was surprised when Daisy went home to change into a dress, before returning for dinner.

At my raised eyebrows, Daisy said, "Didn't Ruth tell you? I'm going to church with you tonight, and then I'm spending the night. Mom and Dad have to go somewhere."

Over dinner, Ma asked Carol, "Would you like to attend the Wednesday evening meeting as well? You're very welcome to come."

"I appreciate the invitation," answered Carol. "But I must decline. I have to get home fairly soon after dinner."

"That's fine," said Pa. "We'll drop you off home on the way to church."

"Thanks. That would be very nice," said Carol.

We left for church a little earlier than usual, to give time to drop Carol off. All six of us piled into the car. Carol sat in the front passenger seat, so that she could direct Pa home. I thought that Ruth would sit on my lap, but Daisy insisted instead. Ruth sat between me and Ma.

Carol directed Pa to her house. They also chatted on the way. After Carol got out and Ma got into the front seat, Daisy for some reason stayed on my lap, even though there was plenty of room between me and Ruth. As we arrived at church, I wondered, was it right to take Daisy with us to church? I mean, it wasn't her religion.

It occurred to me, while an old lady was giving her testimony, that my own fear of giving testimonials, and my inability to think of situations where God had healed or otherwise improved my life, were Error -- Old Error whispering in my ear. I thereupon vowed to give a testimonial next Wednesday night.

During the following silent period, I even thought of one to give. It would be a rather embarrassing one, but I realized that the sense of embarrassment was also Error, and I had to assume a proper sense of humility. The testimonial would be about how my first few visits to Bikini Beach, I always succumbed to temptation to wear a bikini -- despite the sensuality that entailed, despite Pa's denunciation of bikinis as immoral self-exposure. I even left notes reminding me, to no avail -- until last Thursday, when I finally resisted temptation and began wearing one-piece swimsuits at Bikini Beach. I wouldn't mention Saturday afternoon's exception, of course, because that wasn't my fault. Ma had packed the bikini for me.

It would be a scary testimonial to give in front of everyone in church, but fear itself was Error and had to be conquered. I vowed to do it.

Meanwhile, there was the sleepover beginning tomorrow with the girls. It took forever to fall asleep that night, with my mind all aglow at the prospect.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 10
The Sleepover

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.

Thursday, July 10

I woke up simply unable to wait to see the girls again. We would sleep over at Becky's aunt's condominium, and then spend all day together tomorrow.

After breakfast, and the Mental Work and Lesson-Sermon, Ma packed a whole suitcase of stuff for the sleepover. After I changed to my swimsuit, I noticed that Ruth was still dressed, and didn't have her swimwear with her.

She said, "I'm spending the day with Daisy, so I won't be going to Bikini Beach today."

"You sure Daisy won't want to go?" asked Ma.

"Her parents forbid it," said Ruth. "They don't want her to have anything to do with Bikini Beach."

I checked to see what Ma had packed for me. Good, anything I might need was there: spare clothes, clarinet and clarinet material, ballet material, pajamas, numerous other things. A billfold with a surprisingly large amount of cash was included, apparently for shopping tomorrow.

As usual, Mrs. King came by with Vanessa and Helen to pick us up. When I got into the SUV, Helen asked plaintively, "Ruth's not coming?"

I repeated what Ruth said. "No, she's spending the day with Daisy."

We arrived at Bikini Beach in good time, and met three of the other four girls in the changing room. "I assume Alice will arrive shortly," said Vanessa.

As I showered, I realized that concerns and fears about Bikini Beach that were lurking in the back of my mind were unfounded. Surely, Bikini Beach wouldn't change my mind in a bad way, not without me knowing it. Would it?

As usual, we had a most wonderful time together. During one of our relaxation times, I considered telling them about Ruth and what we'd overheard about Mrs. Winstead. But then I remembered that the girl Peter had supposedly murdered was Jill, Alice's cousin. I didn't want to violate Ruth's privacy, either. So I said nothing.

At closing time, Becky said, "Let's shower and clean up, but don't change out of our swimwear. This is going to be a swimwear sleepover. Get your stuff and wait at the standing area. Aunt Yuko will pick us up."

Again, the seven of us piled into her tiny car designed for four. And again, I found myself sitting on Carol's lap, her arms loosely around my waist. The drive to Aunt Yuko's condominium was long and rather bumpy.

Along the way, Becky asked, "Did anyone have any trouble with parents concerned that two of you are GIRLs? Aunt Yuko doesn't have a problem, of course."

Alice said, "Eh? You think I'd actually tell my parents that two of my girlfriends I'm sleeping over with are former guys, magically changed by Bikini Beach? Heck, I wouldn't have to worry about my parents jumping on me for sleeping with guys; they'd put me in a mental institution for believing such a thing."

Carol added, "That's the case for most of us, I'd bet -- at least to a certain degree. I think the problem would be keeping the GIRLs out of our own mind, so that parents don't detect that we might be doing something naughty. You can be sure I didn't say anything to my parents about Bikini Beach changing people."

"I don't know what my parents would think, now," said Jen softly. "First, they tolerated Tim when he cleaned up my injury, and even tolerated my occasional visit. Then when they caught both of us n-n-n-n-naked, and they kept me under the strictest control. Then, I went into shock about Tim--" Her eyes crunched up "-- and lay in bed, refused to eat, refused to speak. After I was brought to Bikini Beach and mostly recovered, Mom and Dad allowed me to do pretty much anything I wanted -- even take me to visit Tim in jail -- even get me a bikini for Bikini Beach, something they'd never have done before. They're probably now just grateful to all of you for helping me heal."

Alice said, "They probably realized that they prefer a live daughter who does her own thing and might even have sex, than a dead daughter who's completely under their control -- if, for obvious reasons, isn't exactly obedient"

Vanessa added her own perspective, as one of the GIRLs. "My parents don't have trouble with me sleeping over, either with boys or girls, although Dad would probably have trouble with me being a girl."

I was very sleepy from all our activities at Bikini Beach when we finally arrived, and saw that the living room all prepared for us with blankets and pillows. I grabbed a blanket and a pillow, went to a corner of the room and lay down to sleep, hoping to keep the noise out.

The last thing I heard as I fell asleep was Aunt Yuko saying, "Girls, I have to work tomorrow, so I need my sleep. Please keep things down to a dull roar."
. . . .

"... I am eternally grateful for Mrs. Eddy and her discovery." An elderly lady finished her testimony and sat down. I had my own testimony all ready -- how I finally remembered to wear one-piece swimsuits instead of bikinis to Bikini Beach -- and I was terrified to give it.

"Coward. You're just too scared." Error was whispering in my ear, "You just can't do it. You'll never give your testimony." Error had a rasping whisper that set me all abuzz, and was pulling me away from God. "Ma! Pa!" I tried to shout, but the words caught in my throat. Their attention was fully on the First Reader up front, and they couldn't see or hear me being pulled away. The big bad Error kept pulling me away, mocking me in its rasping tone that nobody else could hear.

And I woke up. Did I scream? My heart beat like crazy, and I was breathing hyperfast. Oh God, the nightmare! I eventually calmed down, remembering where I was: lying on my side at the sleepover. Someone lay right behind me, her arm draped over me: Carol.

I really had to go to the bathroom, so I carefully removed Carol's arm and quietly made my way across the sprawling sleepers to the bathroom. I tried to find where to grab to lower my PJ panties, only realizing after a minute that I was wearing my swimsuit. I had to peel off the entire swimsuit from my torso before I could sit on the toilet with relief.

I made it back to my sleep area. Carol was still asleep, and I quietly slid back into my former position. Still asleep I think, Carol turned and lay her arm across me again, and pressed up against me.

It took a little while to get back to sleep. I lay awake pondering, did I really want to give that testimony in church next Wednesday? About finally remembering to wear a one-piece swimsuit after repeatedly forgetting and wearing bikinis? The thought reminded me of Brandon -- I would be facing him at clarinet lesson, after being shocked to the core at seeing him as a bikini-clad lady at Bikini Beach.

"I'm so very sorry," he said. "I didn't know..." He looked so shamefaced. He was wearing his usual clothes, and was definitely back to his male self.

"It's okay," I almost cried, I felt so sorry for him. I was in my swimsuit, because we were in the middle of the swimsuit sleepover and it was clarinet lesson time. I reached up to his shoulders and pulled him down and myself up on tip-toes. His arms came around my waist, and we were kissing. It felt so fantastic, I was on the floor and he was on top of me, we were kissing for all we were worth and rocking up and down. My swimsuit crotch felt so wet, and a wonderful feeling swept and buzzed over me.

I woke up, found myself kissing Carol on top of me, still feeling electrified and buzzed all over, humming and gasping through the kisses, my crotch clenching and releasing, thrusting back and forth.

I eventually calmed down, although my crotch still occasionally jumped, sending ever weakening jolts through me. Carol had her eyes closed; I couldn't tell whether she was asleep or awake.

I twisted my head back and forth to stop the kissing, whispering, "Carol! Carol!"

"Wha-- what are we doing?" Carol whispered. "Why are we kissing? I was dreaming." In the faint light of the room, I more felt than saw her blush fiercely. "I need to go to the bathroom now."

"I need to clean off my swimsuit." I got up and followed her to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet while I removed my swimsuit and rinsed it off. I also had to clean my own crotch off. After finishing the toilet, she also rinsed her bikini bottom off. She also rinsed her top off, although I couldn't see why. We hung our swimsuits over the shower curtain.

"So what were you dreaming?" she asked.

I felt quite embarrassed. "It was clarinet lesson. Brandon felt so sorry about freaking me out, that I couldn't help kissing him. It got quite passionate."

"I noticed. Anyway, I was dreaming that I was kissing a boy. It was a boy, yet somehow it was you as well. Maybe you as a boy. My dream was horribly mixed up." She shook her head.

We wrapped towels around ourselves, and returned to the living room. I was planning on finding my suitcase and getting my pajamas out, but it was too dark and I didn't want to wake anyone up, so I decided to sleep nude. She lay down next to me, and I shortly fell asleep.

Friday Morning

I awoke, apparently the first to awaken. I was still lying next to Carol, both of us nude. She was still asleep. I wrapped the towel around me, and found my suitcase, and went to Aunt Yuko's bedroom to get dressed. She had already left for work, and it was already 10:00 in the morning.

I was shocked to see green symbols painted on my toenails: star, heart, diamond, spade, club, among other symbols. Had someone pranked me last night while I was asleep? I'd never painted my fingernails or my toenails before; such behavior was, frankly, slutty. I decided to worry about it later.

I decided to put my ballet gear on now. I usually changed at the studio, but I had a hunch that, with the girls, I wouldn't have time today. I put jeans on over my ballet gear.

Everyone else was beginning to wake up when I returned to the living room. Becky was already awake. "How do I get to the mall for my lessons?"

"We take the bus. We'll all go together. Go find something to eat in the kitchen, while I rouse the rest of them." I found some orange juice, and some bread which I put in the toaster.

"Everyone up and get dressed!" shouted Becky. "We need to get Lucy to her clarinet lesson with Brandon." Now that wasn't funny! To tell the truth, I was getting more and more scared of seeing Brandon again.

I'd planned on wearing shorts today, because I knew Pa wouldn't see me, but thinking of Brandon made me too embarrassed to even let him see me in shorts. I decided on jeans and tee-shirt. Carol also wore jeans and a sleeveless top -- looking indescribably attractive -- while everyone else wore shorts with various tops.

We all took the bus to the mall. I had no idea how the bus system worked. At home, we either walked, or Ma or Pa drove us. But Carol explained it to me. "They used to accept cash. But they don't any more. Instead, they use a bus-card One can use it for guests as well as herself. The system deducts the number of fares the first time we get on, and then detects that we've already paid when we transfer to another bus. I'll pay for you."

"No," said Becky. "You're my guest, Lucy. I'll pay for you. I have my own bus-card"

"No, no, I'll pay," repeated Carol.

The debate between Becky and Carol went on until the bus rolled up. Carol got it first, and so paid my fare.

We got to the mall in good time. As I got off, I spotted a machine, one I'd seen many times before and ignored, although I knew it was for buses "You can get new bus-cards there," said Carol. "Or have one refilled. You can also get monthly passes good for any number of rides in a month, but they're rather expensive unless you ride each way at least four times a week." I decided I wanted to get a bus-card, just in case. I inserted a five-dollar bill into the device, and a card came out, along with a screen message telling me I had four rides on the card.

I stowed it carefully next to my Bikini Beach pass.

Carol also added more money to her bus-card She inserted a twenty-dollar bill, adding seventeen rides to her card. "There's a bonus ride, when you pay twenty dollars or more," she explained.

We had time for a salad snack at the deli beforehand. My stomach was sinking lower and lower as the time approached.

We were all walking toward Shandy's when Jen exclaimed, "That's the store! Spells R Us. Let's take a look!"

I looked where she pointed, but couldn't seem to find it. Jen started off in that direction, but both Vanessa and Becky grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back. "Please, can't we just take a look?" begged Jen.

"Trust us, Jen. You don't want anything to do with SRU," said Becky. "You know what they say. If you ever see SRU, do not walk, run away."

"And we need to get to Shandy's for Lucy's clarinet lesson," added Vanessa. She picked Jen up and carried her the rest of the way, only letting her down after we entered Shandy's.

"Thanks, guys. I was being irresistibly attracted to that store," said Jen.

"I didn't even see it," I said.

"Neither did I," said Alice.

"Neither did I," said Becky. "But I knew it was there, once Jen got that attraction and mentioned it."

"I saw it," said Vanessa. "And I felt the unnatural attraction. Even knowing its danger, I think I would have been unable to resist it, except for the need to protect Jen." She looked down at Jen with obvious affection, and Jen leaned hard against her.

I assembled my clarinet, and we all listened to the last few minutes of the saxophone lesson that preceded mine.

"Nervous?" asked Alice.

"Terribly," I answered.

"I find that it helps to take a loooooong, sloooooooow, deeeeeeeeeeep breaaaaaath before a test that I'm worried about," said Vanessa.

Aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I inhaled. Haaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I exhaled. I felt a little better, a little less anxious.

Eventually, the girl with the saxophone emerged, followed by (gulp) Brandon, in his usual masculine form. "Lucy, I'm so glad, and a bit surprised, that you came this week. I'm so very sorry for the shock I gave you last week at Bikini Beach. Hello, girls. You must be Lucy's friends -- including that wonderful singer." He directed that toward Vanessa. Back to me, he asked, "Shall we go?"

I glanced at my friends. They all gave me encouraging smiles, and Carol and Becky both gave me thumbs up. I followed Brandon into the private lesson room.

"Again, I'm very sorry," he said.

"It's okay. It's just that I had absolutely no idea about Bikini Beach changing people like that. I've since learned quite a bit about Bikini Beach.

"Still, your reaction was predictable. I knew about your crush on me. I could have pretended to be my sister or cousin or something."

Oh my God, he knew! I blushed in embarrassment. "I tried to keep it hidden." I was near tears.

"Oh, I've been aware of it for some time. It was pretty transparent. Quite flattering, I must say, although also embarrassing for me as well. I didn't know what to do. It would have been unethical --- not to mention jailbait -- to take advantage, even though I've never had a girlfriend. So I did my best to ignore it, hoping it would work itself out."

"I think my ... crush ... ended this past week because of all the events. I'm not sure yet." I hugged him, and we stood there a moment. It was nothing like my wet dream-nightmare last night. I think I was giving my crush a final goodbye.

I pulled away and said, "Now let's get down to business."

We spent the next half-hour on the clarinet, saying nothing further about the subject.

My friends were all waiting outside for me, when we finished. I don't know what they did in the meantime. "Say, Lucy. You look a lot better now," said Vanessa. "Lesson went okay?"

"Very well, thank you. Now off to ballet."

We walked together, arriving at the studio just as Ma let Ruth out, having driven her from piano lesson with Mrs. Prudence. I asked Ma, "I don't have to walk Ruth home, do I?"

"No, of course not. You stay with your friends. I'll pick her up."

We spent the next hour in ballet class. Afterwards, I showered and changed into shorts and tee-shirt. Ruth took my ballet gear home with her, for cleaning. I joined my friends in going through various stores in the mall.

They persuaded me to try on various various items. I refused to try on underwear or swimwear -- the very idea was gross. But I did try on a couple miniskirts and a plain green short-puffy-sleeve dress that almost reached my knees. Also a few pants, capris, and shorts.

They also persuaded me to try on a navy-blue formal dress suit, consisting of a skirt extending below my knees, a matching jacket, a vest underneath. A pair of blouses, petticoats, and pantyhose purchased separately would complete the outfit. "This would be perfect for church and other formal occasions," said Vanessa.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I agreed fully. It made me look more grown-up than the dresses I currently wore to Sunday School and Church. It certainly wasn't anything like the miniskirt combination so popular with teens and young adults these days.

"It's adjustable as well, so there's considerable room to grow in it," said Vanessa. "This should be good for at least a year, maybe two. Maybe forever."

I was hesitant about getting such an expensive suit; it took almost the entire amount of money Ma gave me for the shopping trip. But in the end, I went for it. I knew I'd be wearing it at least some of the times to Church, which was twice a week for me.

In addition, the girls persuaded me to try a gag dress that was almost a leotard or one-piece swimsuit. My front and sides were covered fully, but the back went down almost to the crack in my bottom, and the top was just like an athletic bra. A lopsided skirt of sorts was attached to the bottom: on the right, it looked like a miniskirt extending about a third of the way down my thigh. But in front and in back, the skirt shortened upward, to become on the left side a few inches sticking almost straight out and covering nothing. It looked like an ice-skater's dance outfit from the left. The leotard-type bottom was plainly visible on the left; my left leg was almost completely bare, covered just a notch at the crotch in front and back.

"Oh my, you look hot in that outfit," said Becky. "You really must get it."

"I agree; you look simply... simply... I really can't describe it," added Alice. "You'll attract every boy within miles, in it."

"It needs a baseball bat to complete the outfit," said Carol. I wondered what she meant, and she continued, "It's to keep the boys at bay."

I was wavering between being mortified and being excited, standing there in this outfit. "I can't see myself ever wearing this. I just couldn't wear it any time I might be seen by Ma or Pa. Not only that, I don't have much money left after going for the suit."

"We'll all pitch in, right everyone?" asked Becky. "As long as you walk out of the store in it, and wear it the rest of the day."

The up-shot was that they all bought it for me, and I wore it the rest of the day. All six of us got attention from numerous boys at the mall the rest of the day. Both Alice and Becky even accepted offers of dates the following week. I was too shy to accept any offers, and Jen and Vanessa didn't either.

We checked out the bookstore, to placate Carol. I was actually interested in some books as well, and was curious about what Carol read. I followed her to the adult science fiction and fantasy section.

Both of us were browsing, ignoring the couple of boys browsing as well, when I jumped at a male voice from immediately above me. "Hey, babe!"

I turned around and looked way up -- the boy had to be at least six feet tall. "Um, hello?" I didn't like how he leered at me.

"Say, why don't we go off and find a little dinner, then have a little fun. What-cha say, babe?"

I froze, not knowing how to respond. Carol came and rescued me. "Lucy here appreciates the offer. But we're with friends, and they'll be expecting us at any moment."

"Another time, maybe?" asked the boy.

"Maybe," I replied.

Both of us left to find the rest of the girls. When the boy was out of sight, Carol said, "If you weren't with me, I'd actually advise you to consider his offer, even though it was rather obnoxiously presented. Boys in bookstores, especially science-fiction nerds, tend to be nicer to girls than average."

Later, we had another encounter with the SRU store -- in a different part of the mall. This time, I saw it. It looked innocent enough, even attractive, but I knew that was what made it so dangerous. "Everyone hold hands. We walk past it as far away as possible," said Carol. We did so, pushing against the stores on the opposite side of the walkway, until we were well away from the Dangerous Store.

I let my breath out in relief, realizing that I'd held my breath in near panic.

Around five, we had dinner at a pizza joint, and then took the bus back to Becky's place for the second sleepover night.

"Everyone, back into your bikinis," ordered Becky. "Or swimwear," with a nod at Alice and me. "This is a swimwear sleepover."

Carol and I had left our suits last night in the bathroom drying, so we went there to change. While we were nude, I couldn't help looking Carol up and down just for an instant, noting that she had the practically perfect body. "Carol, you look wonderful," I said.

"You look great, too," she said. "You have a wonderful body. You might want to shave off the bit of a stubble down there. But then, there's mine." She looked and felt down between her own legs. But she was right. I was itching down there, and I realized I should probably shave again at some point.

As we looked each other up and down, I said, "Bikini Beach is to give girls a relaxing sanctuary against boys ogling them in their swimwear. Of course, it does nothing about girls ogling them."

"Or GIRLs like Becky," agreed Carol.

I still had the green Lucky Charms on my toenails. I never did figure out who did that, and I didn't really try.

She gave me a quick hug to her breasts, before pulling back and putting her bikini on. Partly because of the surprise, it took me longer to slip on my swimsuit.

When we returned to the living room, everyone else had already changed, and they were debating what video to watch. "For Heaven's sake," Vanessa said, "not `Heathers'! Think of Alice!"

"Oh. Right," said Becky.

We wound up watching "Clueless," featuring three rich empty-headed high-school girls. At one point during a break to get more snacks, Carol commented, "This sounds strange, but it's actually based on the book `Emma' by Jane Austen." I couldn't believe it. How could this movie be anything like a novel from the beginning of the 19th Century?!

Becky's Aunt Yuko got home during the movie, and changed from her work clothes to a little black dress. "Have a wonderful night, girls! I'll be back late -- or tomorrow." I felt embarrassed for Becky; her aunt's dress was skimpier than anything I'd ever worn other than swimwear -- well, there was today's outfit, which perhaps matched hers.

Becky must have guessed what I was thinking. "Aunt Yuko works hard all week. She deserves to live it up on weekends."

We continued watching the movie to the end.

"What now?" asked Jen.

"How about a card game? Poker?" said Becky.

"I don't bet," I said. Betting was a bad thing.

"No real betting. Just the loser taking off a piece of clothing."

Yikes! How naughty could you get?!

"There's nothing interesting about that," said Alice. "All of us have seen the others while changing at Bikini Beach. Heavens, most of you are in bikinis now. If we were going to do that, we should have done it before changing out of our clothes!"

Jen added, "Some of us are as private about it as possible." She was probably speaking for herself, but I was one of those as well, the few times I actually changed at Bikini Beach. "And at least two of you are GIRLs, too!"

"That's what makes it interesting," said Becky, sticking out her tongue. "And we have the memories, once we turn back! Come to think of it, maybe Vanessa and I won't remember it after I turn back." Becky sounded a little disappointed there. Then she perked up. "So what. We can have fun now anyway. In fact, you're right, Alice. Most of us are all practically naked already. There's no need to play strip poker; let's all just do it now!" With that, she promptly pulled loose the knots of her bikini top and bottom, and let them drop off. "Anyone joining me?"

Alice slipped out of her one-piece with surprising speed, and Vanessa removed her bikini. Jen looked at Vanessa and began hesitatingly removing hers. Carol and I glanced at each other. Carol removed her bikini, and I slowly, apprehensively removed my one-piece.

That was that. We were all naked now. I tried not to stare or pay particular attention to anyone, but I couldn't help glancing.

"Alice, I've never seen a girl with bright red pussy hair like yours," said Becky. And indeed, Alice's hair down there was as bright red as her head, and thick but carefully shaped to a particular triangle, creeping down between her legs. The bare skin surrounding was as freckled as the rest of her body.

"That's not in the least surprising. You've been a girl for like, a month, eh BRUCE?" replied Alice. "Perhaps you've been discreetly observing naked girls and women in the Bikini Beach changing room?"

"May-BE," answered Becky with a lecherous grin.

I wasn't sure exactly who started it, or how it started, but for some reason everyone was suddenly swatting each other with pillows. I pulled out away as far as possible to the side of the room, not wishing to get involved.

Someone tapped my shoulder. As I turned, Carol took my hand and led me to Aunt Yuko's bedroom, away from the raging pillow fight She locked the door, and the door will remain metaphorically locked on what happened in there. That's just for me and Carol to know.

When we left the bedroom, we found the other four girls all waiting just outside the door. "Sounded like a couple persons were having fun in there," said Vanessa. "But you both look fresh and clean."

I was suddenly embarrassed at having the girls see me now completely hairless down there, although Carol's similar presence made it not so bad.

"I see you both took a few war wounds," added Becky. "They heal quickly. Happens to me all the time when I shave -- my face I mean, when I was a boy, that is."

"Um, Vanessa?" Jen said shyly, reaching up and pulling her down. She whispered into Vanessa's ear.

"Why certainly," Vanessa said with a gleam in her eye. Vanessa took Jen's hand and they entered the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

"Seems like Vanessa and Jen are going to follow up on your activities, shaving and so forth," said Becky.

"Come along, guys," said Carol. "We don't have to eavesdrop on their activities. We have our own activities." She returned to the living room, and we followed. "So who won the pillow fight?"

"We ended in a truce," said Alice.

"So what now?" I asked.

"How about Spin the Bottle?" suggested Becky.

"What's that?" I asked.

"You've never heard of Spin the Bottle?" asked Alice incredulously.

"That's where someone spins a bottle, and then kisses the person the bottle stops at," said Carol. "It's rather a juvenile game."

"We don't have to limit it to face-to-face kissing," said Becky, as she got up and went to the kitchen. She returned with an empty ginger beer bottle.

"Okay, okay, who spins first?" asked Carol.

"Whoever it points to in this spin," replied Becky, as she spun the bottle. It pointed toward Alice. Alice took the bottle, and spun it fast. It stopped pointing toward herself.

"So what do I do? Kiss myself or something?"

Becky replied, "There are various ways one could kiss oneself, if one is flexible enough -- or so I heard."

"Nah, just spin it again," answered Carol. This time, it stopped pointing toward me.

"Does that mean Alice kisses me?" I asked.

"Indeed," answered Alice, as she crawled toward me and took my shoulders in her arms. I let my arms wrap around her waist, and kissed.

"Not bad for a first time," said Becky. "Now your turn to spin the bottle." I spun it, and it stopped toward Becky. We crawled to each other, and kissed about a minute. Mmmmmmm, such a wonderful experience.

"Lucy," said Becky breathlessly. "As Bruce, I never thought of you that way. But when I return as Bruce this fall, I shall definitely have to reconsider." I'd forgotten that this was Bruce I was kissing!

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" retorted Carol.

The two girls glared at each other until Alice broke in and said, "Please, please! We're all friends here."

"Okay, okay. I probably won't remember anyway." Becky sighed as she spun the bottle. It pointed to Carol. I glanced at Carol and back at Becky. They both hesitated a moment, and then reached for each other and embraced and kissed rather hard for some time.

"I take it you two have made up?" I asked, as Becky and Carol separated breathlessly.

The bottle next pointed toward me, and I had the gut feeling that Carol somehow arranged it, although I had no idea how. My lips simply melted when we kissed, and I felt hers melting too. She pulled me down so I lay on top of her, her arms tight around me. We were almost chewing each other's mouths, and I was gasping in excitement.

Both Carol and I were very annoyed at being interrupted by Alice and Becky. "Hey guys, we have a game to play!" said Becky, as Alice tapped both of us on the head.

"Both of you need to rinse off first, though." said Alice. "Up, up, into the shower!" She pulled on us. It was true, we were both sweaty from the exertions. One thing about a bare crotch is that the wetness is all there on the surface.

I turned on the shower, and we had to wait for the water to warm up. We showered for just a moment, then got out and patted each other dry.

As we left the bathroom, our hair wrapped in towels, we met Jen and Vanessa, both sweaty and grimy, hair all messed up. Jen now looked more like ten or eleven, rather than thirteen. They were apparently waiting for us to come out, and passed us and went in.

"If nobody else wants to use the bedroom," I glanced at Alice and Becky, who glanced at each other, scrunched up their noses, rolled their eyes, and shook their heads, "I think I shall go and fix it up."

"I'll help you," said Carol.

Fortunately, nothing got on the bottom sheet or the mattress. We tossed the used towels into the hamper, except for two with traces of blood, and tossed the used razors into the wastebasket. We remade the bed, and cleaned up or disposed of everything else.

"The bloody towels need to soak in cold water," said Carol. "Hot water will bake it in permanently." As Jen and Vanessa were in the bathroom, we decided to use the kitchen sink.

We eventually returned to the game. Alice spun the bottle, and it pointed toward me. We kissed longer than the first time, although not as long as I'd kissed Becky or (definitely!) Carol. Alice was breathless when we stopped.

"I have to admit, Lucy, you are bringing out the bisexual in me. But," Alice added quickly, "I won't get in Carol's way."

Vanessa and Jen joined us as Alice was kissing Becky. I used that opportunity to transfer the towels from the kitchen sink to the bathroom sink. We continued playing for another hour or so, and I got to kissing every girl pretty heavily. It was quite different from the usual casual hugs we gave each other all the time.

Eventually, we got tired of the game, and someone turned off the lights. It had been dark outside for some time, so a couple of us, including myself, shrieked in fright.

"Hey, let's go out streaking," said Becky. "Just around the block."

I got up, preparing to don a pair of shorts and tee-shirt. "Streaking. Is that running so fast that nobody can see you as anything more than a blur? Or streak?"

Why was everyone laughing all of a sudden? Even Carol? Even Jen?

"Lucy, you are really so innocent, it's almost heartbreaking to disillusion and corrupt you," said Vanessa.

"But I don't mind disillusioning her," said Alice. She turned to me. "No, streaking means going outside and running around naked. We're already dressed for it."

I sat down hard. My whole body was red, and not just about the subject. I was majorly embarrassed, having just made a fool of myself.

"But no," said Vanessa. "We don't want to do anything to get us arrested, and have our parents called in on us. Most of us would get in serious trouble."

"Spoil-sport," said Becky. "I'm seriously considering going out streaking the day my Bikini Beach pass expires. Afterwards, Becky disappears, Bruce reappears, and there's no more trouble for me."

"Don't be so sure," said Vanessa. "Perhaps when you revert, the resulting reality shift might have Bruce going out streaking -- and being arrested for it."

"There's not supposed to be any reality shift in my transformation," countered Becky.

"How lucky do you think you are?" asked Vanessa. After a pause during which Becky didn't answer, she continued, "Anya warned me of another issue, when I got my first two-week membership. If I ever get pregnant as Vanessa, I'm stuck as Vanessa for life. Since you're going on a date next week, I thought I'd mention it. I hope that Grandmother warned you."

Becky answered, "Now that you mention it, it was one of the things Grandmother told me, that I mostly missed, being caught up in the aftermath of the transformation. However, my transformation came with a month's disc of the Pill, with a half a dozen refills available at the CVS. Aunt Yuko and I take our pills every morning together, when she's home. I've never forgotten."

"The Pill only becomes effective about a month after you start taking it," said Vanessa. "While so far, it hasn't mattered for either of us, I really hope that Bikini Beach gives one the body already on the Pill in addition to the Pill itself. Even if it never matters to me, it's the principle of the thing."

"Innocence and ignorance for young girls like us is dangerous," said Alice. "Sometimes it just hits us hard when we learn. Other times, it means people take unfair advantage of us. Still other times, we can really be harmed. Mom put me on the Pill when I was twelve, ostensibly to regularize my period. I saw through that pretext even then. I haven't had sex yet, but just in case..."

"Definitely, the most innocent among us are Jen and Lucy," said Becky. Thanks a lot, Becky. I looked down, couldn't look anyone in the face.

"Becky, that was not a nice thing to say," said Carol.

Vanessa broke in and said, "Let's tell stories," in a haunting tone.

"A couple weeks ago," said Becky, "we were revealing whether we were virgins. One thing I noticed was that we got sidetracked before Vanessa answered the question."

"Yeah, you're right, Becky," said Vanessa.

"But before you tell us, I should mention that in my case, I answered the question before admitting to being a GIRL. So I will be clear, and say that I am or was a virgin as a guy as well."

"You pretty much admitted that last week, with Aunt Yuko," said Vanessa. "Okay, you all deserve to hear my answer. Like Becky, I'm a GIRL. Everyone but Mom and me, and maybe Helen, and now Carol, remembers me as the girl Vanessa King. Only we remember my history as Vernon -- and even there, Mom and I at least remember the primarily the Vanessa version. At least I have to think about it to remember Vernon.

"Vernon -- I -- was or am not a virgin. I began younger than Jen." She wrapped her arm around Jen. "Where we live, sex is common. I was seduced at eleven by my fourteen-year-old cousin. My gosh, I'm that same age now. I became quite active with various friends, until coming to Bikini Beach."

In the dim remaining indirect light, I noticed Jen pulling away from Vanessa, with an expression that she was about to cry.

Becky said, "Please, Jen. Remember that Vanessa worked hard and resisted her own irresistible attraction to SRU, to keep you away."

Vanessa said, "I'm so sorry, Jen." Jen burst into tears, and Vanessa pulled her into an embrace. "I promise, I haven't had any kind of sex with anyone else since coming to Bikini Beach. No girlfriends or boyfriends or lovers. I promise. Please, Jen!" Vanessa looked more distressed than I'd ever seen her. Jen's face was in Vanessa's chest.

We were silent for a moment, then Jen pulled away and whispered, "It's okay. I had Tim back then."

After a moment, Vanessa continued, "Vanessa's false history -- I don't even know who really remembers what about Vanessa. I only have my own false memories. Several guys tried to seduce me starting when I was eleven. I let one do it, but it was just a mildly dirty blah. The other guys, I refused, but a couple of them refused to accept no as an answer.

"One might think I was raped. But the surprising thing is that one of them made it very good for me. In fact, his fingers, hands, and tongue persuaded me to change my mind about his dick and want it badly -- and he made that part good too. So he didn't really rape me. I had sex with him quite a bit afterwards.

"As for the other guy who refused to accept no, it was rape -- no question. But it was just another mildly dirty blah. Not nearly as bad as being spanked. I had sex with a couple other nice friends as well. So that's my history as it never happened.

"By the way," continued Vanessa, "This is not what I meant when I suggested that we tell stories. I meant ghost stories, or urban legends. Things to scare us to sleep that are told at sleepovers.

"For example, my friend's cousin went to visit family in southern Mississippi. A couple days after returning, a small bump appeared on her cheek. The bump grew, turning purple. She was urged to go to the emergency room to check it out, but kept delaying because of the expense, even as the bump expanded.

"Eventually, just as she was about to go to the emergency room, the bump exploded -- along with a hundred spiders, landing everywhere and on everyone."

"Aah!" shrieked someone. "Eww!" "That was so gross!" I wasn't saying anything. My stomach was heaving, and I was up and running, tripping over things, to the bathroom, hoping to make it in time. I crashed into another girl I saw dimly -- Alice, also trying for the bathroom. She got the toilet, I got the sink.

Fortunately, nothing actually came up. I managed to control my heaves. I drank some water, took deep breaths, and managed to control my nausea. "You okay, Alice?" I asked. I couldn't smell anything from her side, so I figured she managed to control it too.

"Yeah. Didn't actually throw up. Some water would be nice."

We both returned to the living room where Carol, Jen, and Becky were all berating Vanessa for that story. In a rare instant of silence, Alice interjected loudly, "Vanessa, would you care to hear about the Night-Riding White Ghosts?"

"Yeah-yeah, the Ku Klux Klan," answered Vanessa. "I'll take a pass on that, thank you, Alice. And the rest of you, instead of complaining about my story, come up with one of your own."

"When I was little, I went to an eight-week summer camp," said Becky. "Mowglis -- ends with a silent s. Just once, mind you. I was unfortunately a rather gullible little kid, and the counselors and other campers enjoyed terrifying us about `Snatchers and Grabbers' and 'the Mad Axeman.' I actually believed them. The full set of monsters in the `Snatchers and Grabbers' story consisted of `Snatchers, Grabbers, Grinders, and Mutilators' -- or was that `Murderers'?

"Snatchers dangled their tentacles down from treetops, waiting to snatch any unsuspecting person from the ground. The snatcher hands his catch over to the grabber, who hands it to the mutilator, who finally hands it to the grinder. That's the end of the hapless victim.

"As for the Mad Axeman, well just hope he didn't enter your tent at night. That's really all I remember."

By now, I was back to sitting next to Carol. In the dark, both phrases stuck in my mind, even while Alice told a story -- no, not about the White Night-Riding Ghosts. "There was an old man, whose left arm was made of gold. He died, and was buried. A man who attended the funeral and the burial decided dig up the grave, and take the golden arm for himself.

"He took it and hid it under his bed. He was planning on melting it down, but kept postponing the decision.

"The very first night, just as he was falling asleep, he just barely heard a ghostly wail, `Who has stolen my golden arm?' Just the wind, he thought, turning over and resettling down to sleep.

"The voice was louder, more definite, the next night. `Who has stolen my golden arm?' And the third night, it sounded as though it came from just outside his door. `Who has stolen my golden arm?' And his door slowly creaked open, revealing the desecrated corpse of an old man.

"`You stole it!'" Alice shouted that last bit.

The response was silence. Carol yawned. I realized that we were supposed to jump out of our skin at that punch line, but the story overall didn't work. "Snatchers and Grabbers and Mad Axeman" were partly to blame, for echoing through my mind that needed to get to sleep.

"Sorry, but I'm sleepy," I told the others. "If you guys don't mind, I'm going to sleep." I had to do a few things such as brush my teeth and use the toilet, but then I settled down in the corner of the room. I was still thinking "Snatchers and Grabbers" as I fell asleep. I couldn't help it.

Saturday, July 12

I was walking through the mall. Oh panic! The Dangerous Store! The one we had earlier so carefully avoided. I had to get by that Store without being snatched away by the Snatchers and Grabbers. I turned down a side hallway away from the Store, and followed it as it made an abrupt sharp turn back toward the Store.

I found a woman's room, and quickly entered to avoid the horror. In one of the stalls, I turned and faced the stall door and removed my swimsuit and was about to sit on the toilet when I realized I was standing naked in front of the Store -- the door of the stall had become the door of the Store. The Snatchers and Grabbers were all ready and waiting for me, and I couldn't just run away all naked in front of the crowd of shoppers. I couldn't pee either, even though I really had to go.

Inside the store awaited Error, and walking naked through the crowd of shoppers was also Error. I was hopelessly trapped! I tried screaming for help, but my voice caught in my mouth. The crowd only saw me naked; they didn't see the danger I was in.

I awoke. Did I scream out? Carol was lying next to me, fingers intertwined with mine, twitching them. My heart fluttered at the twitching. "Nightmare?" she whispered.

"Yeah," I whispered back, in the middle of taking slow deep breaths. It was still dark -- I didn't know what time it was. "I also have to go to the bathroom."

I stood up, and in the faint light from the outside street lights, I made my way to the bathroom. I noticed Jen and Vanessa together, apparently spooning under their blanket. Becky and Alice were off sleeping by themselves, well apart.

I relieved myself and returned to my sleeping spot next to Carol. I lay down again, and took her hand, intertwining our fingers. I felt better that way. I think she was asleep. I was still dead tired, and fell asleep almost immediately.
. . . .

I awoke to the smell of pancakes. Carol was sitting up and looking down at me with an affectionate expression. "Becky's cooking us a wonderful breakfast," she said.

I sat up and looked around. Alice was still asleep. Jen and Vanessa were in the kitchen with Becky. Carol and I got up, and entered the kitchen, where Becky was cooking stacks of mini-pancakes "Mmmm, these smell wonderful," I said.

"They are indeed wonderful," replied Vanessa, as she forked a stack into her mouth.

"May we?" I asked nervously.

"Help yourself. Plenty more are coming," answered Becky.

"Oh, my. Now I regret the nice breakfast I already had this morning," came a voice from someone not of our group. Aunt Yuko had returned, still wearing the dress she wore last night, all wrinkled now. I suddenly realized our nakedness, having been caught by Aunt Yuko.

"I see you all decided to get nude," Aunt Yuko remarked.

"And you didn't, Aunt Yuko?" sassed Becky.

"Now don't you get smart, young lady." Aunt Yuko left the kitchen, apparently for her bedroom, just as Alice entered the kitchen.

"Oh my." Alice sniffed and inhaled through her nose. "This has got to be the biggest attack ever on dieting."

"Nah, just my contribution to the war on anorexia," replied Becky. "Dig in. There's plenty for all. Aunt Yuko and I will have leftovers later. We'll burn it away at Bikini Beach, anyway."

We finished eating just as Aunt Yuko emerged, dressed in a bikini and an overlong tee-shirt. We helped Becky clean up, and then Aunt Yuko ordered us, "Everyone get dressed. Into your swimsuits, that is. It's Bikini Beach day."

We all got back in our swimsuits, and a couple of the girls put on tee-shirts over them. I made sure all my stuff was properly packed in my suitcase, and we all went out and stuffed ourselves again like sardines in Aunt Yuko's little car. Again, Carol had me sit on her lap in the back seat.

We spent Bikini Beach together as usual, enjoying the rides and relaxing, alternatively. Some time mid-morning, while I was relaxing half-asleep, someone pulled on me hard until I sat up. "Lucy, Lucy!" It was Ruth, and Ma was with her.

"Hello, Mrs. Cuttington," the girls greeted Ma.

"Hello, girls. How was your pajama party?"

I was scared that one of them would let the naughtiness out of the bag, as everyone told a little about the sleepover. At least Becky had enough sense not to correct Ma and say it was a nude party. The closest anyone got to the naughtiness was with the scary stories told. I was beginning to feel really guilty about what I'd done at the sleepover last night. I was thinking about my nightmares of the monster Error getting me. I didn't mention those, or any of my nightmares.

"Hey, let's go do something, Lucy!" Ruth pulled, and I stood up.

"Now now, Ruth," said Ma. "Lucy is with her friends her own age. They don't want a little girl tagging along."

"No, Ma," I said. "It's good for Ruth and me to have fun together. My friends won't mind if I go off with Ruth for a couple hours. Right, guys?"

"By all means, have some good sister-sister time together," said Carol, and everyone else agreed.

"That's fine then," said Ma. "Bring Ruth back to me around noon at the Tiki Hut."

"We'll be there, too," added Vanessa.

As we walked together, Ruth holding my hand, I was thinking about my nightmares. I knew perfectly well that Error meant erroneous thought, not a monster or bad guy out to get you. But as a young child, I got to thinking of Error as exactly that. And I couldn't completely rid myself of that mistake. What if my nightmares were telling me that I was seriously going into new levels of Error through my sleepover activities?

One thing I knew. I wasn't going to tell my parents.

Ruth and I had lots of fun in the South Seas Adventures, before we had to meet the others at the Tiki Hut. A couple times, the notion of Ruth having been an older brother Peter came to mind, but I put it out.

After lunch, the girls and I spent an hour relaxing and dozing off, then spent the rest of the afternoon having fun. All too soon, it was time to leave.

I showered and changed into jeans and tee-shirt before going home, as Pa would be home. In fact he was. "It's been too long since I last saw you Lucy. But by all means, keep having fun with your friends."

I practiced the piano for a little while, then, as usual after a Bikini Beach day, went to bed early. I slept better back in my own bed, even though I enjoyed sleeping next to Carol. I didn't have any nightmares this time.

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 11
The Following Days and the Firmlove Meeting

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 13

Both Thursday and Friday night, I'd had nightmares about monsters that were Error going after me. Was someone or something warning me? Or was someone or something actually after me? Or were they just nightmares, influenced by thoughts in the background of my mind?

In any case, as I awoke Sunday morning, I kept feeling guilty about the sleepover events of Friday night. They were major-league Error. I even felt guilty about the dress-suit I got when we went shopping, even though I kept telling myself I had nothing to feel guilty about.

I decided to wear it that very day to Sunday School and Church. I waited until after breakfast before putting it on -- partly because I didn't want to spill food on it, partly because I was nervous about putting it on and letting Ma and Pa see me in it. I didn't know why; the dress-suit was about as modest as one could get short of a nun's habit. Perhaps it's because I bought it without asking or telling Ma, or perhaps because I'd splurged on it almost the entire amount she'd given for shopping.

The girls had persuaded me to buy it, and pantyhose and two-inch heels to go with it. I was particularly nervous about the heels, since Ma had never gotten heels for me before. (I'd never asked.) I wasn't sure how to fix my hair to match the suit; my usual ponytail didn't seem to fit. I just decided to let my hair fall and brush it out.

Ruth was the first to see me in my new suit. "Oh my, Lucy! You look ... adult ... like a young and friendly Ma! It's wonderful!"

Pa was the next to see me, when I went downstairs. "Say, who could this lovely young lady possibly be? Is that you, Erin, time-traveling from the past?"

"Very funny, Pa," I replied.

"What's going on?" asked Ma, as she entered from the kitchen. "Oh my, is that you, Lucy? Let me look at you!" Ma fiddled a little with my jacket. "You look great in that -- almost the businesswoman. Good workmanship, too. Adjustable -- it should last you at least a couple years."

"Seeing my daughter like this truly drives home the point that you are growing up," said Pa.

"Aww, Pa. I'll wear my other dresses sometimes. I'll remain childlike some of the time." One should remain childlike, according to Mrs. Eddy. And Jesus said that one should become as a child, too.

"I take it you bought it Friday, when you went shopping with the girls?" asked Ma.

"Yes. They persuaded me to get it. Vanessa, in particular. I'm afraid it took almost everything you gave me for shopping."

"I quite approve. It's surprisingly responsible for a teenage shopping spree."

The Lesson-Sermon's subject this week was "Sacrament." That meant a slight change in the format of the service. After the Readers read the Lesson, we were "invited" to kneel on the floor. I'd been feeling guilty and begging for forgiveness throughout the service, and here I continued to beg for forgiveness as part of my silent prayer -- even as I recalled vaguely in the back of my mind that this was not the right kind of prayer. We recited the Lord's Prayer.

I think I felt a little better after the church service was over.

"Lucy, over here." Ruth grabbed my hand and we went off a little ways from where Ma was gossiping with other church ladies. "You were unhappy this morning. Was it something at the sleepover?"

"Well..." I blushed in embarrassment at the memories. I didn't want anyone to know about them. Not even Ruth -- putting aside the embarrassment, she was just too young. I finally said, "I think Error influenced me at the sleepover."

Ruth giggled. "Did you sneak boys into the sleepover?"

"Um, the only boys there were the ones changed to girls -- Becky and Vanessa."

"Aww," she pouted.

I wondered about that, but let it go. "I had nightmares too. Error as a monster trying to pull me away from Ma and Pa, Error and monsters in the mall after me, pushing me toward the Dangerous Store. Heck, I can't remember now if we actually encountered that Store Friday, or I dreamed it all."

"A Dangerous Store?" said Ruth. "It was probably a nightmare. Anyway, error means mistake -- I looked it up. But we're almost taught that it's a monster whispering in our ear. Like when we're grumpy, Ma says that's Old Error."

We talked some more, but then we had to stop because Ma's socialization had ended, and we had to return home for Sunday dinner.

After dinner, I joined Ruth and Daisy and a couple other girls and guys her age playing outside. The afternoon went by fast, and so did the evening of a game of Life. Pa joined us for the game.

Monday, July 14th

The next morning, we had to record a new week of the Lesson-Sermon. The subject was Life, one of the seven synonyms of God according to "Science and Health."

So after breakfast and the Mental Work, Ma recorded the "Science and Health" readings, while I recorded the Bible readings. Afterwards, I spent part of the time helping with chores, and part of the time reading. I also practiced some piano and clarinet. I tried not to think of Error haunting me and taunting me during the sleepover.

I did wind up thinking of Ma's rant about what Mrs. Winstead said, last Tuesday. Did I really hear that? Or did I dream it? Or did Ma make it up or hallucinate it? Becky and Vanessa had been transformed by Bikini Beach. Had Ruth as well? Had my mind been completely wiped of memories of -- what was the original name? Peter?

Ma wouldn't know -- any more. She'd forgotten as well, if it happened. But Mrs. Winstead might know.

I had piano lessons as well as ballet. After piano finished, I suddenly wondered if Carol would appear like before. Sure enough, there she was at the corner of a street a couple blocks from the mall. Shouting out, "Hey, Carol!" I ran to meet her, despite being loaded down, and she ran to meet me.

After jumping and hugging, we backed off to look at each other. "It's been a while, since Saturday," she said. Then both of us blushed at the same time. My face was burning.

"About Friday night," we both began, then stopped. "You first," we both said, then burst out in laughter.

"Let's get moving," I said, taking her hand. "I have ballet to attend." After a short pause, I asked, unsure of my words, "Did we go too far Friday?"

"Well..." she said.

"I felt really guilty yesterday at Church. It felt like -- I feel silly and embarrassed talking about church to people outside it. The words we use mean different things. I'll just say it -- it felt like major-league Error, an Error unprecedented for me. That term Error, well it means mistake or something wrong, but also something more. Ma would say to us as a child, `That's Old Error influencing you.' Something in our book mentions Error being "exterminated." I got to thinking of Error sometimes as a tempter, sometimes as a terrible monster.

"In my nightmares Thursday and Friday night, Error was the monster pulling me away from Ma and Pa (who were, of course, oblivious) or the thing chasing me toward the Dangerous Store but also inside the store waiting for me. I think the Store in my nightmare was based on `Spell R Us' that we saw Friday."

"Oh my," said Carol. "I'll admit I felt a little guilty and definitely considerably embarrassed at what we did Friday night. But nothing like what you felt, I'm sure. It was fun and exciting as well. No doubt I'd be punished if Mom or Dad found out, but nobody's going to tell them, right?"

"Right. I'm certainly not going to tell my parents. Ma spoke about the fun she had at `pajama parties' when she was young. I don't think meant the kind of activities we had Friday. Although, come to think about it, she never told us what they did."

"How about this?" said Carol. "What happened Friday night remains Friday night."

"Exactly."

We continued walking. I was lost in my thoughts. Error in one of the nightmares taunted me that I would be too scared to give the testimony I'd vowed to give on Wednesday -- about wearing bikinis and one-pieces to Bikini Beach. I was having doubts about it -- and fears and embarrassment -- and I realized that those doubts, and fears, and embarrassment were Error.

We arrived at the ballet studio just as Ma and Ruth arrived. I changed into my ballet leotard and tights, and the class went by as usual, except this time, Carol watched us.

Afterwards, she said, "Did I ever tell you? You definitely look sexy, both of you. Ruth, you almost look like a younger version of Lucy. It's a wonderful privilege walking home with both of you." Carol took both our hands. "Let's go."

We started off.

"There's the way you treat me as a friend, almost like Lucy," said Ruth.

"Well, you and Lucy are clearly friends as well as sisters. And there's something mature about you -- and also about your friend Daisy, I don't know. And then it's fun to have some childish fun once in a while. Actually, I view Lucy rather different." She took her hand out of mine, and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me to her. After a moment of surprise and being off-balance, I managed to get my arm around her waist, and leaned against her. I couldn't help having a silly grin on my face.

"Now that silly thing about being up a tree is running through my mind," said Ruth with a giggle.

"Um, Ruth, in case you didn't notice, we can't have children," I said.

We got home. While I changed out of my leotard, the idea occurred to me that my Bikini Beach pass was probably expiring. I got it out and checked: the expiration date was 5:00pm Tuesday, July 15th. So it was still good tomorrow. That was actually nice of them, making it a 15-day pass instead of a two-week pass.

Daisy joined us, and the four of us spent the rest of the afternoon playing outside. Both Daisy and Carol stayed for dinner and we played some more afterwards. Then Carol had to go home. Pa drove her home, and I went along with them.

On the way back home, Pa said, "You have a very good friend there, Lucy. She's involved not only with you, but also with Ruth and her friend Daisy -- pretty much the whole family."

For a moment, icky thoughts tempted my mind, thoughts about Pa and Carol. No-no-no, I managed to put them out of my mind. That was just sick. Error.

Tuesday, July 15th

As I followed the morning routine, it was perpetually on my mind that today was the final day of my two-week Bikini Beach membership. I was regretting not making more use of the membership, such as going on other days. But then I realized that one can enjoy the rides only so much. It was being with the other girls that made Bikini Beach the special place it was.

I wondered if there were other activities we could do together besides Bikini Beach. There was the sleepover, and shopping. Were there other places such as theme parks to attend? Places that wouldn't have the magic that sometimes scared me?

I got into my swimsuit and got my equipment well before the Kings arrived to take us to Bikini Beach. So I practiced on the piano -- feeling a little strange doing so in a swimsuit, especially with flip-flops on the pedals. I tossed them off; my bare feet on the pedals felt a little more normal. The Lucky Charms on my toenails were faded.

Ruth was in her swimsuit and ready by the time the Kings arrived. Vanessa and Helen were in the SUV as usual, and we made it to Bikini Beach in good time.

I posed the question to Vanessa while still in the car. "I was wondering, especially since today is the last day we can use our passes, are there other places to go, other things all six of us can do to have fun? For example, find park or a field and play ball games, Frisbee, on the swings and climbing bars?"

"Gee, I don't know. It might be fun to go to other theme parks, overnight trips to places like Sea World or Six Flags, or one of the Disney parks. We should talk to the guys about it." She laughed suddenly. "It would definitely be interesting being the lone boy among a group of girls in that situation. Except that probably the next time I visit Bikini Beach, I'll have Mom get me another extended time membership, so I'll still be Vanessa when it comes to that. Actually, come to think of it." She cast a sharp glance at me. "I'm not sure I would be the only boy."

I didn't really want to know what she meant by that. Becky/Bruce had a summer membership, so she wouldn't be there as a boy. Did her pointed glance at me indicate that she thought I might be a boy? Or be one after the pass expired? Now that was ridiculous.

As usual, we had a wonderful day at the water park. I took the gymnastics class, and found myself promoted to level 2 gymnast. Ruth had been promoted earlier; her younger body was more flexible and adaptable than mine was, despite my greater experience with ballet.

We left Bikini Beach early, and Jen came along with us. Mrs. King dropped Ruth and me off at home just in time to change for dinner.

Over dinner, Ma announced, "Dan? Lucy? Ruth? Our weekly Firmlove meeting will be here tonight. We require all your help in setting up the basement playroom for the meeting."

So Pa, Ruth, and I were Shanghaied into bringing a bunch of chairs in from the storage room off to the side, along with a long table for snacks. Pa lugged downstairs a large cooler full of sodas, and Ruth and I had to lug bags of potato chips, cheesitz, corn chips, and so forth.

Soon, the first participants arrived. We were supposed to remain out of the way, doing our own things as usual. I joined Ruth in her room. "Remember Ma's angry rant about Mrs. Winstead last week? Do you think they'll say anything about that today?"

"Maybe," said Ruth.

"Let's try to listen to the meeting," I said. "We may be able to learn something."

We went downstairs to the living room. There were heat ducts which sent hot air in the winter and cold air in the summer, on the floor of the living room. In the playroom downstairs, they were in the ceiling.

"We need to maintain absolute silence," whispered Ruth.

I pressed my ear against one of the ducts, and was able to hear what they were saying. "... were able to persuade the judge not to release Joseph on bond," said an unknown voice. "We had to emphasize the danger a potential drug dealer posed to the community. However, we failed at persuading the judge not to appoint an attorney for Joseph. At least, a stint in jail may be just what is needed to persuade him and other potential drug dealers that rules and laws are to be obeyed." They spoke more at length about this Joseph.

Then the voice of a woman who appeared to be the leader of the group said, "Next on the agenda: a proposal by Mrs. Cuttington to expel Mrs. Winstead from this Firmlove branch." Several voices exclaimed in surprise and outrage. I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Ruth, successfully remaining silent. "Order, order! We shall let Mrs. Cuttington make her motion and present her reasons."

I heard Ma's voice! "I wish to expel Mrs. Winstead for her advocacy of crackpot claims, in particular slanderous and defamatory claims made about my daughter Ruth."

More exclamations, followed by, "Order! Order! Erin?"

"Mrs. Winstead practically accused my daughter Ruth, who's only nine years old, in the infamous rape/murder of Jill Denison. Supposedly at the time, Ruth was my son Peter, seventeen years old, and I took him to Bikini Beach to change him into Ruth. I mean, the very idea! Ruth has always been my daughter, and how could anyone think that Bikini Beach, an exclusive water park for girls and women, nothing more, transforms people?"

Everyone spoke at once, and I couldn't understand any of them. "Order, order!" Eventually the noise quieted down, and the leader called out, "Deborah?"

Another woman, who must have been Mrs. Winstead, said, "This is all utterly ridiculous. You should all ask yourselves, would I make such a claim that Bikini Beach actually changes boys to girls?"

I heard Ma shout out, "Liar!" just like a little kid! The leader said, "Order, Erin! Continue Deborah."

"Clearly, Erin knows perfectly well that Ruth has always been Ruth. In order to claim that Bikini Beach changed her son Peter to Ruth, I would also have to explain how she and her family always remembered Ruth as part of the family!"

Ma promptly said, "Deborah is lying. She said Ruth was dropping hints around that she was formerly Peter, yet unable to say so directly. She implied that Bikini Beach had the power not only to change Peter to Ruth but also make us believe Ruth always existed *AND* make Ruth unable to tell her own story."

More chatter and exclamations emerged.

"Order! Order! Biff?"

A male voice said, "For what it's worth, the police arrested a young negro male for Jill Denison's murder. There was never any talk of the murderer being a white boy."

Another female voice said, "As teacher at Central High, I hear all sorts of crazy rumors and stories. Among them are claims about Bikini Beach: it changes boys to girls, people to animals, plants, vampires, and even inanimate objects. It even bans girls' swimsuits that cover too much! Its owners are witches, vampires, aliens from space. I've always attributed those rumors to jealous boys who can't get admitted to Bikini Beach because of its girls-only policy."

Another male voice: "I don't know who's in the wrong, but here's one thing I do know. Even bringing up such claims, even if unambiguously denied, furthers the beliefs. It's basic human psychology. If you say, `Purple cows don't exist,' one is more likely to entertain the notion of a purple cow than if you remained silent about them."

The leader spoke again: "Mrs. Cuttington made the motion. Unless there's a second, I shall table the motion and go to the next item."

A male voice spoke: "I move this alternative: Mrs. Cuttington's motion, and all discussion thereof be stricken from the record, and we continue on as if the motion and discussion had never occurred"

A series of voices shouted, "Second!"

The leader: "Discussion?" A moment later, "All in favor?"

A series of voices shouted, "Yes."

"Against?"

Silence.

"The motion passes. Next on the agenda, Lisa Albertson's oldest daughter's involvement with necrotism and neopaganism."

Necrotism? Neopaganism? I had no idea what they were, but it certainly sounded scary. Pagan. Probably contrary to Christian Science. I continued to listen, and learned a number of things. Neopagans were atheists who worshiped Satan -- or was it a Goddess? Or Satan as a Goddess? -- and became witches through power bestowed on them by Satan. A quarter of the teachers in the public schools were secretly pagan, and lured students into their clutch. Modern physics and quantum theory were simply paganism in disguise, and the public money used in building huge accelerators -- that's what it sounded like -- was secret public money for pagans.

They had a break, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the basement, so I dashed into the kitchen. Ruth went somewhere else. I pretended to look through the pantry, and then hid behind the pantry door when they entered the kitchen, and listened to what sounded like might become an actual fight between Ma and the other woman.

"You witch!" said the other woman, who must have been Mrs. Winstead. "How could you do this, after all I did to help you with Ruth and Peter! I informed and advised you about Bikini Beach, after the lawyer got Peter off the hook for Jill Denison's murder. I took in Ruth for the night after she injured your husband--"

"I don't know what the Hell you're talking about," replied a very angry Ma. Yes, she actually cursed!

"Oh? Then why DID you call me, say it was an emergency, and drive Ruth to my house to spend the night?"

"Okay, I concede, I can't remember why," said Ma. "I do remember it seemed important at the time."

"You even had to warn Ruth it was either me or the police. You don't remember telling me all about that? You don't remember telling me about Ruth kicking Daniel, after he spanked her?"

"Huh?!? Dan never spanked either of my daughters. He told me he refused to spank girls. And certainly, Ruth never kicked Dan. There's no way she could kick him so hard as to injure him."

Mrs. Winstead said, "You told me that Ruth had caused a major disruption at Bikini Beach on July 4th. To compound it, she refused to let you spank her. You took her home and had Dan spank her as punishment for both the disruption and not letting you spank her. Then you described Ruth's kicking your husband in specific detail. First, she kicked him at the top of the stairs, making him fall downstairs. Then she jumped -- almost flew, you said -- downstairs and landed on his side -- jamming her heel into him right as she landed.

"You told me that when Ruth was Peter, he had a blue belt in Taekwondo. Some of that must have remained in Ruth. How could you possibly forget our long discussion, where we finally agreed that reforming Peter was hopeless? Ruth kept denying her guilt, kept resisting discipline, and kept engaging in behavior unbecoming a girl her age? Even deliberately dropping clues around trying to tell others, when you made it abundantly clear that her change from Peter was between you and her alone?"

What? What kind of talk was that? Someone is a victim, and the criminal proclaims that it's only between the victim and himself?

"Now that's just way out!" exclaimed Ma. "You must have been dreaming or something."

"Excuse me? I wasn't dreaming. You called Bikini Beach yourself that night to arrange for Ruth's membership to be upgraded to lifetime, with a new reality-shift to wipe out everything that Ruth did the past weeks and replace it with normal behavior. It would also remove Ruth's own memories of having been Peter, as well as everyone else's and eliminate Peter once and for all.

"Oh, my God! I just realized -- you got caught up in the reality-shift yourself. No wonder you don't remember any of this, Erin!"

"That explains it," Ma said angrily. "You talk all sorts of nonsense to me, of course you will lie about it, deny it when challenged."

"Erin, all this was supposed to be just between you and me. Now that you've gone public with it -- hush, someone's coming."

Another woman entered. "The break's over. Let's get back to work." Ma and Mrs. Winstead followed the woman back downstairs, and I got out from behind that door with relief. Oh, my! If last week was merely a suggestion that Ruth was originally an older Peter, these were all blatant, unambiguous statements.

I found Ruth -- didn't know where she hid. "Did you hear any of that?" I asked.

"All of it," answered Ruth. "I wonder if Pa heard any of this."

"Probably not enough to understand it. The television in his office is probably on too loud, and he's probably caught up in some old classic movie. But let's go upstairs."

Once we got in my room, I continued, "This settles things. You were definitely Peter, changed to Ruth at the first visit. It seems as though you were falsely accused of murdering Alice's cousin Jill. Bikini Beach made you forget everything Saturday morning, and made me forget -- well, whatever and whenever they made me forget." I just realized I had no idea what I'd forgotten in Saturday's reality-shift.

"This is so weird," said Ruth. "Me being a seventeen-year-old boy, me being in high school. High school? That's so scary! So what do we do about it?"

"Let's sleep on it. Meanwhile, I might practice my clarinet. It's been a while." I returned to my own room, and practiced for about half an hour, not too loud. Then I went and peeked in Ruth's room. She appeared sound asleep, so I went back, changed into one of Pa's tee-shirts, and went to bed myself.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 12

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.

Wednesday, July 16th

Ma and Pa had discovered that the girls and I had spent that Friday sleepover evening naked. I was horribly humiliated now, lying bare-bottom over Pa's lap in the bathroom. He'd already yanked down my swimming trunks that I was wearing from Bikini Beach. And now, gargantuan Pa was going to slam his gargantuan hairbrush down on my bottom -- bristle-side down, of course.

Any second now, I would re-experience the pain of the hairbrush from my childhood. I remembered the hairbrush of my childhood slamming and me screaming in pain. And Pa was about to slam the hairbrush down on my bottom.

I was doing Taekwondo. This couldn't be allowed to happen. Not without a fight.

Pa was about to slam the hairbrush down on my bottom.

I aimed a karate-chop at Pa's side. My right arm was plowing through molasses.

Pa was about to slam the hairbrush down on my bottom.

I tried to push myself off his lap. I rolled off very slowly...

I was standing in front of Pa, naked, in a fighting stance. I lifted my front leg forward through molasses again, up for a front side-kick into Pa's lower stomach area, preparing to follow up if necessary with a round-house kick.

I woke up in a sweat. It was just a dream. Another. Nasty. Nightmare. In the dream, why had I remembered getting naked with all the girls? Becky, in her usual sassiness, had suggested getting naked, but the others had objected. I was there, the lone male, and two of them, including Becky, were GIRLs. My phobia of being seen naked had flared up.

Becky had removed her bikini and gotten naked anyway. To my surprise, Carol had joined her. I suspect she did it to keep my attention away from Becky. I felt a bit guilty about not joining Carol when she removed her bikini, but more guilty -- or more fearful of Ma and Pa finding out -- about being in a sleepover with naked girls and bikini-clad girls.

As far as I knew, Ma and Pa never knew that any of us had gotten naked during the sleepover.

Actually, I did get naked with Carol a couple times. The first time was the first night after waking up from a wet dream/nightmare where I was kissing and making out with Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe, my transformed clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon. I'd woken up to find Carol kissing me in her sleep. She'd promptly woken up, and we'd both gone to the bathroom to relieve ourselves and clean off our swimwear, and had gone back to sleep nude next to each other. I was so sleepy at the time that I thought nothing of it.

The second time was after we got back from shopping, and we changed out of our street clothes -- or in my case, out of that silly boy's dress they'd got me into -- and back into our swimwear. Carol's and mine were both hanging in the bathroom, and for some reason it didn't occur to either of us for me to wait and take my turn after she changed. We went in together. I did get to look her up and down as we changed, and noticed that she had the perfect body. Of course, as usual, her wonderful smile lit up everything and made it all the prettier.

Bizarrely, the point when I went all bug-eyed over Carol was neither of these times, but when she appeared that morning in a sleeveless top, jeans, and sneakers. I suppose it helped that her clothes rather smoothly followed and accentuated her curves, but still.

"See anything you like?" she'd asked with her winning smile.

I could only nod slowly, I'd been in such a daze.

I remembered getting home Saturday evening after the sleepover and the day at Bikini Beach. Pa greeted me with a long lecture. "I would have vetoed your participation had I known -- said an absolute no." "It's one thing to make friends with girls; it's another thing entirely to spend the night with girls." "I'm very happy that you've actually made friends this summer, and played actively with them. You've grown up as too much of a loner." "I'll even admit to being a bit jealous or envious of you having a harem of girls. Nothing like that ever happened with me when I was growing up."

I'd maintained an embarrassed, frozen, silence throughout the lecture, particularly mortified at the "harem" suggestion. At Bikini Beach, and most of the time with them elsewhere, I was just "one of the girls" -- in the metaphorical sense. Also, two of the girls were actually GIRLs. I didn't say any of that, though. It was true most of the time at the sleepover as well.

Pa ended the lecture with, "You promise me, Luke, you won't do it before marriage?" "It" was have sex. Intimidated and humiliated by the lecture, I promptly agreed to the promise.

Awake now from the nightmare, I saw that it was still dark outside. I got up, went to the bathroom, then returned to bed. I fell asleep hoping I wouldn't have another nightmare.
. . . .

I woke up again in the morning, and lay in bed a little while. Someone knocked lightly on the door, and I called out, "Come in, Ruth!" She entered, still in her pajamas.

We'd eavesdropped on Ma's Firmlove group meeting last night -- and also when Ma and Mrs. Winstead had talked alone. To my embarrassment, Ma and Mrs. Winstead were about to get into a catfight. Catfights are exciting and arousing -- but not when one's your Ma.

We overheard definitely that Bikini Beach had changed my big brother Peter into Ruth. Then on July 4th, something had happened to lead Ma and Mrs. Winstead to have Bikini Beach shift reality and change all our memories of Ruth, as well as all our memories of Peter. Apparently, Mrs. Winstead still remembered, but inadvertently, the reality-shift had hit Ma and she didn't remember any more.

I'd wanted to go punch Ma and Mrs. Winstead out, but instead, I'd stayed hidden behind the pantry door in the kitchen. I felt like going and punching Ma out now, and said as much.

"Luke, you really don't want to do that," replied Ruth. "Ma wouldn't remember why, and Pa's here as well."

Apparently Peter had been accused of raping and murdering Alice's cousin Jill. Had he been changed to Ruth to protect him? To punish him? To reform him? Everything Mrs. Winstead said suggested that it was the latter two, rather than the first, but I couldn't remember what.

"We have to discuss things," continued Ruth, sitting on the bed next to me, as I sat up.

"What Ma and Mrs. Winstead said about you in particular," I replied. "You as Peter."

"Yeah," she said.

"I think we should go to the library this morning, and talk about it there, or maybe the mall, where Ma and Pa won't hear us."

The Mental Work was playing as usual during breakfast, and during its "What is God?" passage, a depressing thought came to mind. My two-week pass for Bikini Beach had expired. Would I continue to see the girls?

Well, Carol definitely. I couldn't help smiling, feeling something like -- well, very happy. Last week, she always managed to catch me either before or after Taekwondo, and always walked home with Ruth and me. I blushed at the memory of the sleepover and the things I saw and did -- hopefully I concealed it drinking down my orange juice.

When we'd met again Monday, both of us had blushed and frozen in embarrassment, before we finally laughed, and hugged each other. "What was Friday remains Friday," we agreed.

My dick was hard under my jeans. Fortunately, the table concealed it.

That train of thought led to my the clarinet lesson I attended Friday. I'd seen Mr. Oregon at the July 4th celebration at Bikini Beach, and he'd become Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe in the orchestra. I'd gone catatonic with shock. What was particularly bizarre at the time was that a uniquely bimbo-headed comment of Becky's, "Maybe he's a girl now," turned out to be unbelievably right. Thinking of a teacher as sexy was always embarrassing for me, and going to last Friday's clarinet lesson had been a most nerve-wracking, frightening, terrifying prospect. Fortunately, the experience itself turned out not so bad.

Mental Work reached the Mental Malpractice section, and I glanced over at Ruth. Our eyes met, Ruth gestured at Ma, and I nodded. I was angry at Ma, but did my best not to show it.

The Mental Work ended, and we had to listen to the Lesson Sermon, with me reading the Bible passages -- I'd recorded them with Ma on Monday. I couldn't stand to hear myself; I sounded like a stuffed turkey. I tried to shut it out, and think more about my exciting memories at the sleepover, but my voice always intruded.

The end of the Lesson-Sermon ended my musings. Daisy came over to play, and when she found out we were going to the library, wanted to go as well.

"Children, don't forget your activities today," said Ma.

"Let's change now," said Ruth. "The mall's not far from the library, so we can go directly there."

"That's a plan," said Ma. "I'll drive you to the library. Luke, I hold you responsible for getting Ruth to her ballet class on time."

"I promise. You can count on me." I would actually have to get Ruth there early, to get to Taekwondo on time. "Let's get changed."

I changed into my white Taekwondo uniform, and Ruth got into her leotard and tights, adding the wraparound skirt to make her respectable for the library. All three of us sat in the back seat when Ma drove us to the library. "Make sure you get Ruth to ballet on time," she admonished again.

The original plan was to discuss Peter and Bikini Beach, to see what we could figure out and what we could do, but we couldn't do that with Daisy around. I was returning some books, and Ruth dumped her books on top of mine and dragged Daisy off.

I set the books on the counter, checking that none were overdue, and went off toward the adult section, my stomach aching and fluttering with excitement. Did I dare find and read Forbidden Flowers? Did I want to risk getting caught?

I went to the science fiction and fantasy section and browsed a little, before working up my nerve to go to that section with Forbidden Flowers and the other sex books.

Finally, I dared. The excitement got just too much to resist. I was in the middle of a favorite fantasy, when...

"Oh, I knew that had to be you, Luke!" came Carol's voice from behind, speaking softly as appropriate in a library. "I recognized your Taekwondo clothes. Say, what's that you're reading?"

Mortified at being caught, tried to cover and hide the book, and keep it away. "Oh come on, let me see." She pulled it out from under me. "Forbidden Flowers: More Women's Sexual Fantasies." She laughed. "Sounds exciting!" She looked at the passage I was reading, and took a minute to read through it herself. "Hee hee, a religious pervert corrupting an innocent girl, having the Holy Spirit possess her in a frenzy of religious ecstasy."

We read a few more accounts together. "This is hot stuff!" she said in a husky tone. I turned to face her; her face was all flushed, and her breathing was rasping. She grabbed my head and pulled me in for a hard kiss. My goodness, she must have found them even more exciting than I did! I wrapped my arms around her waist and torso, and we pressed hard up against each other. She was humming and purring, and I felt like humming myself.

The kiss must have lasted at least a minute before we finally broke apart.

"Oh, my!" she exclaimed. "I think we should stop reading now. We might get really out of control -- not only that, we might lose track of time. You have Taekwondo, and Ruth has to get to ballet class. I take it Ruth's here with you?"

"Yep. Daisy, too."

"Maybe we can read more of this book some other time," said Carol. "When we have more time -- lots more time. Perhaps in one of the study rooms. The walls are soundproof, so we don't have to worry about keeping quiet." She giggled. "I don't think we should try to check this book out, or buy it at a bookstore."

"Oh heavens, no!" I exclaimed. "I wouldn't want anyone to know I read this."

"We're too young, too. They might tell our parents, or otherwise get us in trouble. Hmm... Maybe Nancy could buy a copy, or perhaps Mom," said Carol.

"Yikes! You'd actually tell your mom about this?"

Carol laughed, shook her head in an ambiguous way, lit up the library with her smile, and didn't answer the question. "Let's go get your sister and get off to the mall." She turned and started off.

I slipped the book back into the shelf, and followed her. I let her lead the way, content to follow from behind and look her perfect stout body up and down. She was almost made for jeans and tee-shirt. I remembered the one-piece thong swimsuit she wore on July 4th. She'd certainly looked hot but I kept wondering how she could stand that strip of material creeping down into her bottom. Walking behind her, I found her hotter, more attractive, in jeans and tee-shirt.

As expected, we found Ruth and Daisy in the children's section. They were reading a book together. Ruth greeted us, then stood up and said, "We'd better get going, Daisy."

We went to the checkout desk and everyone but me checked out books, and we departed. Carol and Daisy took my hands, and Ruth took Daisy's.

"Peter, why didn't you check any books out?" asked Daisy out of the blue.

"Well, the book I was reading, um, isn't one that wanted to be checked out." I felt really at a loss for words there.

"How can a book not want to be checked out?" asked Daisy.

"It's not a book they would let him check out," said Carol.

"Oh," said Daisy.

I was thinking of saying something about not wanting them to know I was reading that book. But Carol pulled down on my hand, and I got the message from her glance at me to leave well enough alone.

"Um, why did you call Luke Peter?" asked Ruth.

"Oh-my-God, I can't believe I did that! It's stupid, really. I have I guess this imaginary friend, a man, the ideal babysitter. I often imagine I'm with him, sitting next to him or on his lap, holding hands, playing games -- hide-n-seek, Sorry, Monopoly, Life. I imagine climbing on him, hugging him, kissing him, riding him like a horsey, sitting on his lap. I imagine his face floating in front. He's, like, the perfect babysitter."

I let out my breath after holding it, and took another deep breath. Gees, I'm a guy, and yet that seemed so romantic.

I didn't notice she was leaning against me while talking, until she suddenly jumped away, and laughed in obvious embarrassment. After she calmed down, she said, "I don't know where that came from; I never needed a babysitter. You and your family were my babysitters when Mom and Dad had to go out, Ruth. I imagine him as looking like you, Luke." She again leaned against me, deliberately this time.

"Um," I was blushing and uncertain about my words. "I don't know how good a babysitter I'd make."

"Luke, you're a wonderful big brother," said Ruth, to further my embarrassment. "You'd make a wonderful babysitter.

"Hey, Ruth," I said. "Should we tell them about the catfight Ma and Mrs. Winstead almost had last night?"

"A catfight?" asked Daisy. "Your Ma isn't a cat!"

Carol explained, "Guys like to call it a catfight when they see two girls fighting. They think it's hot and sexy. The boys imagine the girls having long fingernails like the claws of cats or tigers."

I continued, "It's also a catfight if girls are shouting at each other, like calling each other bitch or Bi-Otch or something."

Daisy said, "Oooo, that's a bad word!"

"Mrs. Winstead actually called Ma that," said Ruth.

"I thought she said witch," I said. "Anyways, Carol, catfights aren't sexy if Ma's one of the fighters," I said.

"Luke," countered Carol, "Catfights aren't sexy, period."

We arrived at Ruth's ballet studio before I could talk any further. Daisy hesitated a long time, before deciding to stay and watch Ruth. Carol joined me, and we went hand-in-hand to my TKD class.

On the way, Carol said, "You remember about Bikini Beach changes, right?"

"How could I forget July 4th? My own clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon, being a hot bikini-clad young lady. I suppose it's different with girls, but the very idea of a teacher... well," I fumbled my words. "Thinking of one as sexy, having a crush on a teacher... or any authority figure... It's repulsive. Embarrassing."

"But you did find out that Bikini Beach changes men and boys to girls and women there, right?" she asked.

"Yeah, learning that two of you girls were actually... um..."

"GIRLs. I like Jen's acronym. But three of us."

"I don't understand. You're saying you're one as well?"

"Not me," said Carol. "Now that I think about it, though, I might be one and not know it. But think about it."

By that time, we reached the TKD dojang.

"Hi Luke," said one of the guys there. "I see you brought your girlfriend again."

I blushed furiously, as Carol smiled at me, let go of my hand, brought her hand around my shoulders, and pulled me against her. I slowly put my arm around her waist.

As with every TKD session for the past couple of weeks, Carol stayed and watched.

Afterwards, as she took my hand and we returned to pick up Ruth, Carol said, "Did you think about it?"

"No, I was focused on the exercises and instruction." Actually, I did for a moment during the break, and it occurred to me that she might have meant that I was a girl then. But I didn't want to mention it; I couldn't handle it. So instead, I returned to the catfight. "Ma's catfight last night involved Ruth and Bikini Beach. Did I tell you what happened last week?"

"Well, Ruth had to spend the night at someone's house," Carol said.

"Mrs. Winstead's. Last Tuesday, a week ago, Ma returned from her Firmlove meeting furious at Mrs. Winstead. She repeated to Pa, not caring that I was in the room, interesting stuff -- crazy, Ma thought. I would have thought so had I not known better. Stuff about Ruth leaving clues that she was seventeen-year-old Peter.

"Ruth overheard it too, and took the possibility with surprising equanimity. We noticed that her original eight-year pass would have expired when she was seventeen. Anyway, last night, Firmlove came to our house. Ma tried to get Mrs. Winstead expelled for the crazy things about Bikini Beach and Ruth she said last week.

"It was during break that Ma and Mrs. Winstead got into the argument, and she said a lot of stuff about Ruth and Peter -- Ruth's former self. Ruth's lifetime membership included a reality-shift making everyone forget what Ruth did beforehand. Everyone but Mrs. Winstead. Ma got caught in it, and forgot everything as well."

At this point, Carol said, "Poetic justice." I chuckled, and she continued, "I take it that Ruth's original eight-year membership changed her from seventeen-year-old Peter?"

"Of course," I answered. "That's when we first visited Bikini Beach. And now, we don't remember what Ruth did during those first two weeks after."

By that time, we reached the ballet studio. A minute later, Ruth and Daisy emerged among a group, chattering among themselves. "Luke and his girlfriend are waiting as usual for you," one said to Ruth. I saw a brief look of poison on Daisy's face, and she ran over and grabbed my other hand.

Ruth took Daisy's free hand, and I heard her whisper in Daisy's ear, "Carol's being very good to you. Don't be so jealous."

We started the mile or so home all four of us hand-in-hand. It always felt nice to have two pretty girls holding my hands, although hints of jealousy between the girls weren't so nice.

"Daisy," asked Carol, "what do you know about Bikini Beach?"

"Just that it's a girls-only water park. Mom and Dad don't want me to have anything to do with it."

"Did they say why?" I asked.

"Just that it's evil. I'm confused though," said Daisy. "It's a girls-only park, yet Luke goes there all the time."

I didn't want to get anywhere near the topic of me changing into a girl or something, so I quickly changed the subject. "Tell us more about your Peter, Daisy."

This time, Daisy blushed in embarrassment. I'd rather she be embarrassed than me, thank you. She didn't answer, so I asked, "Did Peter have any brothers and sisters?"

"This is all my imagination, of course. But I always thought of him having a kid brother. He sometimes talks about him. His brother's name is -- oh my gosh, you're his kid brother Luke! This is getting creepy!"

"You called him the ideal babysitter. Did he babysit you and Ruth at the same time?"

"He babysat only me, played games only with me. Ruth was never around, and I never thought of Ruth. That's crazy, and I'm so sorry, Ruth. You're my best friend!" Teary-eyed, she turned and hugged Ruth. "And I never had a babysitter, either!"

"Daisy, this is actually wonderful." Ruth turned and looked at her. "You may be remembering what Bikini Beach made us all forget."

"Ruth, you're scaring me."

"Bikini Beach changes people, and makes people forget. When I first went to Bikini Beach, it changed me from Peter, a seventeen-year-old boy and Luke's older brother, to Ruth. I only know about this because of what Luke calls the catfight between Ma and Mrs. Winstead. Everyone forgot except I guess Ma and myself and Mrs. Winstead."

"Mrs. Winstead called it a reality-shift," I added. "She also said another reality-shift was done when Ruth got the lifetime membership. We've all forgotten pretty much anything Ruth did before then, it sounds like."

"Ruth's lifetime membership means that Ruth never gets back to being Peter," said Carol. "You know, Luke, that Bikini Beach changes last through the expiration of the membership?"

I knew what Carol was driving for, and I grimaced at the idea of being a girl. I also remembered that last Friday, it was the hardest thing ever to go to clarinet lesson, remembering Mr. Oregon as Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe at Bikini Beach on July 4th.

"Luke?" repeated Carol. When I didn't respond, she continued, "What do you remember? Do you remember yourself as a girl?"

"Um," I finally responded, embarrassed again. "I mostly don't remember thinking about it. But at times I remember being a boy there -- the only boy among you girls, and the only boy in sight at Bikini Beach."

"I remember that too," said Ruth.

"As do I," said Carol. "That means that Bikini Beach has shifted all our memories, in addition to returning your boyhood. Because, at least at Bikini Beach, you were a girl." There it was, now flatly stated outright. "A boy remains a girl until the night after his guest pass or membership ends. I remember you getting -- what?"

"A two-week pass that expired ... yesterday ... last night?" I answered, gulping.

"That would mean that you were a girl for two weeks until last night," Carol said. "And no matter what we remember, you were a girl at the sleepover last week. It was six girls, not five girls and one boy."

On Monday, Carol and I had agreed, "What happened Friday stays Friday." I remembered Spin the Bottle, kissing all the girls, and almost losing my virginity several times -- usually to Carol. (It would have been mortifying to lose it with my friend Bruce-turned-Becky.) How much of that was false memory?

"Do you remember using the girls' changing room with the rest of us?" asked Carol.

"No, I always used the men's room." Me use the women's room? What did Carol take me for? "I was always alone." I hesitated. "Except when Vanessa joined me that time we both got the passes. She must have been Vernon then."

I was just totally confused now. Carol must have seen it. "Don't worry about it. Bikini Beach transformations are not meant to be understood by mere mortals."

When we got home, Ma was ironing some clothes. "Hello, everyone. Welcome, Carol, great to see you again."

"Hello, Mrs. Cuttington. It's great to visit."

As usual, Ruth took her shower first. Daisy went upstairs with her. Even though the walk home dried me off, I felt still too grimy or dirty from Taekwondo to sit on any of the seats in the living room, so I sat on the floor, and Carol joined me. We chatted about inconsequential things, as Ma was around and could potentially hear us.

"The bathroom's free!" shouted Ruth from upstairs.

"I'd invite you," I mouthed as I stood up, "but," and I gestured with my eyes and thumb toward Ma in the kitchen. Carol laughed and smiled, and my heart fluttered. Did the room seem brighter somehow?

I headed upstairs to my room, removed my TKD uniform and dumped it in the hamper, then grabbed a bathrobe and crossed over to the bathroom for my shower. It felt good to get cleaned off, although not as good as the showers at Bikini Beach. Come to think of it, was it the showers that contained the ingredient that changed the boy to a girl, and changed everyone else's memories and records and physical objects? That must be some potent water there.

My shower finished, I dried off and returned to my bedroom to dress in knee-length shorts and a tee-shirt. I returned downstairs to see Ma and Carol sitting next to each other on the sofa, with a fat book of old photographs of Ruth and me at younger ages.

"Hey, Luke!" said Carol. "I like these old pictures of you!"

"These were before Ruth was born, of course," said Ma, indicating a series of pictures of me as a toddler with a faceful of spaghetti.

"Ma!" I exclaimed.

Ma continued to show photographs of me in various situations, compromising and otherwise. At least a few were of me naked.

A while later, Ma announced, "I have to go shopping. Can you think of anything we need?" I couldn't think of anything, and Ma went up to Ruth's room to ask Ruth. She came back down a moment later. "See you later; I'll return in an hour or so."

I sat down on the sofa next to Carol. "I take it you liked those mortifying pictures of me."

"You were cute as a youngster. Anyway, that's just par for the course. Mothers always like to show potential daughters-in-law embarrassing pictures of their sons as little boys."

Potential daughters-in-law, eh? I turned toward Carol, looked her up and down, liking what I saw -- jeans, tee-shirt, everything. "You know," I said, "I think I've seen you in bikinis too often." She was one of the girls who always wore bikinis at Bikini Beach -- except for July 4th, when she wore the one-piece thong. "The time I remember going all bug-eyed over you--"

"--I wore a new pair of jeans, and a nice top." She smiled her heart-stopping smile. "You were ogling me today as well, in my worn jeans and plain tee-shirt. You know, Bikini Beach is supposed to be for girls and women to enjoy swimming and such, out of the presence of boys ogling them in their swimwear."

"Becky, of course--" I began.

"--shreds that argument," she finished. "Anyway, it's really quite flattering to be ogled even in my most plain clothes." She smiled again.

"You have a wonderful smile. I never told you this," I said.

"Why thank you!" she smiled again.

"It lights up everything, and nothing around you is plain in any way when you smile."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," said Carol with a light laugh sounding almost as good as her smile.

Feeling rather daring, I carefully put my arms around her -- and she put her arms around me, and we pulled each other together. I'd suddenly gotten hard down there. We were about to kiss when I noticed Ruth coming down the stairs with Daisy. We suddenly pulled apart.

"Don't mind us," said Ruth. "Just pretend we're not here." She lay down on the rug with her book. Daisy, meanwhile, climbed on my lap, pulled my arm around her waist, got herself comfortable, and opened her book. "Um, on the other hand, maybe you should mind us," Ruth corrected herself.

A couple minutes later, Ruth got up and asked, "Hey, Carol, may I sit on your lap?"

"Fine with me," she said. "Heck, if Luke can sit on my lap, then Ruth can too." Ruth climbed up and made herself comfortable.

Carol was referring to the Saturday after July 4th, when we squeezed into Aunt Yuko's microscopic car. We had to squeeze in seven in a car built for four, and for some reason, Alice refused to sit on either of our laps, preferring instead to be squashed between me on Carol's lap and Jen on Vanessa's lap.

It was perhaps the only argument we ever had, but Carol and I argued about who should sit on whose lap. We were both the same height and about the same weight, and Carol wanted me on her lap, while I wanted her on my lap. Becky finally suggested Rock, Scissors, Paper to decide, and Carol won. So I wound up sitting on her lap, squashing her down. She'd had her arms around me, pulling me hard against her.

Now both of us sat with one arm around the girl on our lap, holding hands with the other. The girls got to reading their books. Daisy's book was "Squire" by Tamora Pierce. Ruth was reading, "First Test."

I found myself dozing off, leaning against Carol, and didn't catch when the youngsters dropped their books and dozed off as well.

I heard the garage door open, and in a momentary panic forced myself awake. The girls were still dozing. "Girls? Ma's home. I don't think we want Ma to catch us like this. Let's get up now."

Ruth jumped off. Daisy slithered off my lap, saying, "I don't think your Ma would mind too much."

"Nah," agreed Carol. "Your Ma would find it cute -- more than just cute, moh-eh, cuddly. She'd want a camera to immortalize the scene for everyone to see." Nevertheless, she slid away from me even as I slid away from her.

I jumped up as Ma entered with a full bag and asked, "Hi Ma. Need help with the groceries?"

"Why thank you, Luke. Yes, that would be wonderful."

So I went out and grabbed two bags from the trunk, and carried them into the kitchen. Carol was just behind and took a bag as well. "Just set them on the table," Ma said. "Thank you." There were several other bags, but with three of us working together, we got everything in quickly.

The four of us spent the rest of the afternoon playing outside together, joined by other children Ruth's age.

Pa came home, and both Carol and Daisy stayed for supper. Daisy was all dressed up again -- was she going to come to church again with us?

After dinner, I had to shower and change for Wednesday evening church. I decided to wear that new suit I'd bought last Friday. I'd worn it Sunday, and it fit wonderfully. Ma, Pa, and Ruth had all cheered me in it, Ma even saying I looked like Pa when she first saw him.

Ma also said at the time, that we should have gotten a new suit long ago, that shopping with the girls Friday should have been a day for splurging on fun stuff -- not for getting a new essential item. Of course, I never mentioned the "boy's dress" they'd urged on me (and bought for me) now hidden in the back of my closet. I'd actually worn it the rest of the day -- and a couple girls and a gay guy had hit on me: "Nice dress, dude!" and suggested going off for a little fun. Fortunately, Carol had rescued me, saying in no uncertain terms that I was with her.

That had engendered a comment, "So you're the one wearing the pants of the pair."

I never imagined I'd actually like wearing a suit. I'd had too much experience with that old uncomfortable, tight suit. I tried to comb my hair, but it didn't work out very well, as usual, and Pa had to comb it for me.

"Wawawow, Luke!" said a stunned Daisy, hugging me -- very embarrassing in front of Ma and Pa.

"Yes, my big brother looks most handsome," said Ruth.

"Luke, oh my! You look even better than you did last Friday!" exclaimed Carol, throwing her arms around me and kissing my cheek. If Daisy's hug was embarrassing, this was most mortifying in front of Ma and Pa. I froze with my face burning, and the spot on my cheek really standing out.

Like last week, we left early enough to drop Carol off at her house, before going to church. Again, Daisy insisted on sitting on my lap. After we dropped Carol off, Pa commented to me in the back seat, "You're far too young for us to think about things like this, but Carol would be a great addition to the family."

Daisy made an instantaneous noise behind her closed mouth, through her nose, and turned and pressed hard against me. I could see the silent grief in her face, and my arms instinctively went around her. I don't think anyone noticed, except possibly Ruth. I certainly hope Ma and Pa didn't.

The service was boring as usual, except for the hymns. At least the readings from the Bible and "Science and Health" were short, before the Lord's Prayer and the middle hymn.

The most boring part was the testimony section following the second hymn -- in particular, the periods of silence between testimonials. Tonight, the boredom was relieved a little bit by Daisy sitting next to me and leaning against me or clinging to my arm. I wondered if Ma or Pa noticed, sitting on the other side of me. Some of the testimonies sounded actually interesting.

A woman stood up and told of her daughter, "Alice, about nine at the time. She was deluded into thinking that she was a boy named John. We tried discipline. We tried psychology and psychiatry. Nothing worked; she kept complaining that she was a boy. Finally, just out of curiosity, I entered a Christian Science Reading Room, and discovered Mrs. Eddy's `Science and Health.' I learned from `Science and Health' that the healthy situation of children was dependent on the mental state of the parents. We had to correct our own belief that our daughter was subject to delusions, and to realize that there is but one Mind. God is Mind, and cannot be deluded.

"I realized that I did not, could not have a daughter who was deluded in any shape or form. Once my husband and I realized this, the claim of a deluded daughter thinking she was a boy completely vanished. I am so grateful for Mrs. Eddy and Christian Science."

Hmmmm, I wondered, as the First Reader nodded with a smile and the lady resumed her seat. Was this a Bikini Beach transformation or something?

I knew that some time, one of these years, I would be expected to stand up and give a testimony in front of all these people. The very idea was terrifying.

Maybe if Christian Science undid what Bikini Beach, Ma, and Mrs. Winstead had done to Ruth -- restore Ruth to Peter, or at the very least, restore Peter's memories to Ruth and memories of him to the rest of us, I'd have my testimonial.

Eventually, the First Reader ended the boredom and announced the final hymn. The service promptly ended upon the end of the hymn -- some people literally turned and exited the pews and walked out as soon as the hymn ended. Others of us stayed to listen to the following incidental organ music.

Daisy sat on my lap again, on the way home. She fell asleep. Ruth fell asleep as well, although she woke up at pretty much every turn of the car, and again when we finally got home. I had to carry Daisy inside and up to Ruth's room, and Ruth insisted that I help her get the still half-asleep Daisy out of her church dress and into a nightgown. (It occurred to me just before I fell asleep in my own bed that it would have been more appropriate to ask Ma to do it instead.)

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 13

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.

Thursday, July 17th

"Luke, the Kings are here!" called up Ma.

"Coming!" I was all ready, in my swimming trunks and sneakers and socks just like Tuesday to cover my mortifying Lucky-Charms toenails -- they were mostly faded out by now, but I still didn't want Ma or Pa to see even their remnants. They weren't so bad at Bikini Beach, although a couple girls there giggled and said, "I like your toes!" I went downstairs, Ma gave me enough money for a one-day pass and meals. Daisy, who'd spent the night, hugged us both. Her hug felt nice on my bare chest.

Ruth and I got into the SUV. Helen and Vernon were there, of course, in their swimwear. To my surprise, Jen was there. She was leaning against Vernon's bare torso, and Vernon had his arm around her.

"Jen spent the last two nights and yesterday with Vernon," announced Helen. "They were awfully loud -- especially Jen."

"Helen!" said Mrs. King. "What an awful thing to say!"

"But it's true!"

I just sat there in shock and excitement, thinking about the activities they must have engaged in. I shifted my equipment on my lap to make sure my growing bulge was hidden.

Jen was bent over in mortification. I briefly saw her face trying to hold back tears, as Vernon pressed her to his chest. "Helen," he said slowly and deliberately, glaring at her. "If you were my little brother, you wouldn't last ten minutes."

"Nanny nanny boo-boo, you're gonna be my big sister in thirty minutes!" Helen stuck her tongue out at Vernon.

"And as your big sister, I'll have no qualms in grabbing you by the scruff of your neck and flinging you all the way back to the last millennium."

"Children, children!" said Mrs. King. "Helen, look what you did to Jen. Apologize promptly, or I'll put you over my knee when we reach Bikini Beach."

Helen looked over the back of the seat at Jen and Vernon, and Jen turned a distressed face to her. "Oh, no. Sorry, Jen." Helen actually looked it even. She lowered her own face to the seat.

"It's okay," mumbled Jen.

We eventually arrived at Bikini Beach. We were so accustomed to going directly for the turnstiles, that I had to remind myself that I needed to get a new pass.

Ruth asked, "Mrs. King, can Helen and I go to the turnstiles? We still have our passes."

"Sure, go ahead. Enjoy yourselves!"

"I'll go with them," said Jen. "If you don't mind, that is, Vernon." She glanced at him with a loving look.

"Certainly," answered Vernon. "I'll see you inside -- as Vanessa, of course."

I was apprehensive -- was I really going to change into a girl? Not only that, what would I think or remember? I remembered only being a boy the past times -- or even just not noticing -- but that was apparently a false memory. Was Bikini Beach making a unique exception for me?

I had no idea now. I was tempted to bolt, and take the bus back to town. I was too embarrassed to mention turning into a girl, though, so when we finally arrived at the booth, I remained silent while Mrs. King and Vernon discussed various options with the saleslady.

"... a longer membership than my usual two-week," Vernon was saying.

"We have an inexpensive two-month membership," said the saleslady.

"That ends a couple weeks into school," said Vernon. "What happens if I attend the first two weeks of school as Vanessa? How does it affect me when I return as Vernon?"

"I really don't know anything about that. Anya or the Boss herself deals with those long-term memberships. Hey, Anya!" she called out to the side. "Care to switch? A customer is considering a two-month membership."

"Coming," came a voice.

"Anya'll help you." The saleslady left, replaced by Anya.

"Hey, Vernon," she said.

"Hi, Anya. I'm considering the two-month membership, but I'm wondering how that would affect me in school, to attend the first couple of weeks as Vanessa. I mean, for all I know, Vanessa may have preregistered for different classes from mine last spring -- I don't remember. Also, I'm going out for football, the freshman team. How would being Vanessa affect that? Practice begins several weeks before school starts."

"Okay, let me check." Anya typed a few things into the computer. "Standard reality-shift means that when you revert, Vernon has done some combination of Vanessa's activities and what Vernon would have done. We can, if you wish, make sure that Vernon had his own classes and started football practice at the right time, regardless of what you did as Vanessa."

"That might wipe out quite a bit of what I did with my Bikini Beach friends. I don't want that. Just to be clear," he said, "I want to keep my Bikini Beach friends forever, and remember as much as possible what I did with them."

"Me too." At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more. "Best Friends Forever, right?"

"Right!" We slapped our hands together, then slid our hands into a handhold he'd taught us earlier.

"I promise you," said Anya. "You and your friends won't forget, Vernon. Only the rest of the world will. But if you're concerned, then how about this? We have Vanessa preregistered for all your classes, and joining the freshman football team. You'll take some hassling, but you can handle that. As Vanessa, you're tough."

"Sounds good, Anya. Thanks."

Mrs. King said, "You might want to spend a little time as Vernon, though -- especially with Jen."

"Jen's parents think I'm female -- or at least will when I change. That's why I had Jen with me since Tuesday: I wanted to make sure that I was Vanessa when Jen got back home. I don't think I can pull that off again. I don't want to risk our friendship with Jen, just so that I could be with her as Vernon. So the two-month membership, with what Anya specified."

Mrs. King got her credit card out, and the transaction was processed. Then she turned to me. "Luke?"

"J-j-just one day, p-p-please," I stammered. "I have the cash." I quickly got it out, and paid the amount. Anya appeared to notice my fear. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but in the end said nothing.

Vernon and I went into the men's changing room. Only just now did I realize what an incredibly lame pun that was, although I was too nervous now about changing to a girl, to groan appreciatively. What would it feel like? What would I remember? Would I forget everything about who I was?

Vernon promptly removed his swimsuit and footwear, and went to shower nude.

I sat on a bench, worrying and wondering what it would be like, slowly removing my shoes and socks, putting off the shower. Changing into a girl, I could hardly bear the notion. I delayed further, first just sitting there, then removing my swimming trunks as well. I had to really push aside my phobia of being seen naked; it was seriously outweighed by my fear of showering.

Vanessa returned to put on her bikini. I couldn't help looking her tall dark naked body up and down appreciatively. She was beautiful. I was reminded that Bikini Beach existed so that girls would not undergo that kind of scrutiny.

She said, "Better shower and change, Luke. They probably don't appreciate a naked boy and girl alone together in the men's changing room for very long."

After I finished showering, I returned to the bench, furiously kicking myself metaphorically. "Are you okay, Lucy?" asked Vanessa.

"No, I'm not okay!" I replied, slipping back on the bikini I'd worn. "I vowed not to wear bikinis here any more, but this morning I succumbed to temptation and wore my bikini today. If Pa catches me in this bikini when I get home, I'm in deep trouble. He hates it when girls dress in skimpy clothing, and hates bikinis in particular."

I'd been mentally kicking myself ever since I got into the car and we drove off, working myself into a panicked rage. I'd walked out the front door, down the walkway to their SUV standing at the curb, wearing only my bikini and flip-flops -- anyone in the neighborhood could have seen me. I didn't even wrap myself in a towel, preferring to use the towels readily available at Bikini Beach.

"Not only that," I continued. "A monstrous nightmare I had at the sleepover turned out true. The nightmare had Error as a monster pulling me away from Ma and Pa, and taunting me that I would chicken out of giving my planned testimonial at church last night! And I did exactly that: chicken out!

"My testimonial was going to be how I'd finally conquered temptation of wearing bikinis to Bikini Beach, and wore one-piece swimsuits instead. I realized that the testimonial would be embarrassing, but the embarrassment itself was Error. I succumbed to the embarrassment last night, and then this morning I succumbed to the temptation to wear a bikini again!"

"I have to admit to not understanding your things about your religion, but perhaps it was a good thing you didn't testify about having conquered your temptation to wear bikinis -- if indeed you *REALLY* did succumb today." Vanessa spoke those last words slowly. "But you didn't. Bikini Beach is responsible for the bikini you're wearing."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a reason both of us are in the men's changing room, but if you can't figure it out yourself, you won't believe me if I tell you."

Huh? That made no sense whatsoever.

"I remember a couple weeks ago, you were kicking yourself for wearing a bikini, afraid of what your Pa would say or do. I reassured you with something like, `You're at Bikini Beach now, and everything will turn out fine.' I wasn't thinking at the time, and didn't realize how Bikini Beach was causing the problem in the first place. I'm so very sorry, and embarrassed about that."

"Thank you, I think. I still don't understand, though," I said.

"Like I said, you won't believe me if I tell you. You have to figure it out for yourself."

Vanessa and I went out to join the others. Carol, Jen, and Becky were outside, waiting for us. Becky was with another girl, one I'd never seen before. "Is that you, Vernon?" asked Jen, looking at Vanessa.

"Yeah, I'm Vernon, although my female name's Vanessa," Vanessa answered, reaching down and lifting Jen up in a tight hug. Jen reached around and pulled Vanessa in a tight kiss, lasting perhaps a minute. Then Vanessa let Jen down.

"You're so tall!" She paused. "I almost didn't recognize you. But your eyes... By the way, Lucy." She turned toward me with a death glare. "Why did you go with Vernon into the men's room? He's mine!"

My mouth opened wide; I was utterly speechless. I'd already changed into my bikini at home, and didn't bring anything with me I needed to store in a locker. Both Vanessa and I were in our bikinis. All we had to do was shower, although we both did get naked before showering. The small men's changing room was clearly empty, and I had the idea of using it to avoid the crowd in the women's room, and apparently Vanessa had the same idea.

"Please, there has to be some rational explanation. I'm sure Lucy wouldn't do that to you and Vanessa -- or to me," said Carol, glancing sharply at me.

"Bikini Beach's magic did -- had something to do with it," Vanessa said. "Let's not let Bikini Beach's magic break us up. Please! I think each of us remembers different things, from Bikini Beach's magic. And all our memories are partly false. We need to work through this."

"I have an idea," said Carol. "You three need to tell your own memories of the event. But we shouldn't have any of our stories influenced by what we hear. Let's go into the office. I'm sure they have writing material, and we can write things down there."

"Great idea, Carol," said Vanessa. We all went to the office building, me in trepidation because I'd stupidly done something horribly wrong. I almost missed Becky's ominous whisper, "I hope we don't encounter Grandmother."

"Actually, she quite nice," said Alice, who had joined us somewhere along the way and followed us silently. "Okay, I concede your encounter with her."

We met Anya again. Vanessa greeted her, and asked, "May we have pen and paper, and a place to write? We have something to work out."

"Certainly," replied Anya. "There's one of the conference rooms." She led us there.

I was the one in dutch with the group. I wrote my story the best I could, including my motive. I ended with, "I had no idea it would cause such trouble. I am very sorry. I'll never do it again." I was guilt-wracked and embarrassed over the whole thing.

I was the last to finish. Carol read them out loud. Jen's story was that I went with Vernon (male) into the men's room.

Vanessa's version kicked me hard, like a blow to the gut, although not in the way Jen (and Carol?) meant.

Vanessa remembered being Vernon, entering the men's room as Vernon, and changing to Vanessa. I had accompanied him today. But she went further: "Lucy also joined me in the men's room back when we both got our two-week guest memberships to Bikini Beach and I changed to Vanessa. Afterwards, when the passes were in effect, and I was Vanessa full-time, Lucy and I always went into the women's changing room. Now that those passes have expired and we got new passes, we both entered the men's changing room. Contrary to all our memories of her, I am convinced that Lucy is a boy who changed along with me, with her own memory shifted along with mine and everyone else's."

Dead silence. I was sick with shock. There was no way I could be a boy! I just couldn't imagine how it would feel to have those bulky things dangling down between my legs. How would I squash them up out of the way when I dressed? And a flat chest, absent my breasts?

"Lucy, you're in shock," said Vanessa. "Take a long, slow deep breath."

I had to take several long, slow, deep breaths to recover. Carol came and pulled me into a tight embrace, my head up against her bikini-covered breasts.

"Vanessa," I asked weakly. "Was this what you meant about Bikini Beach being responsible for my bikini?"

"Now," Vanessa continued. "Don't think about it. Not until you're ready. Boy or girl, you're one of us, and we are all friends here. Nothing can pull us apart. We are here at Bikini Beach to have fun and enjoy ourselves and each other. Now, let's go find the Tropical Waves; we need to exhaust ourselves."

We all left the office building. As we walked the long walk, Becky introduced us to the girl with her. "Guys, this is Steph. Both Alice and I had hot dates last night," she giggled, and both Alice and Steph laughed with her.

Alice continued, "Craig -- that was my date -- Craig's older brother Stephen--" she pronounced it Steven "--drove us, as he also had a date that evening. He was going to pick up his girl, and then drop Craig and me off where we wanted, and pick us up at 11:00. I had to be home by midnight, I told them in no uncertain terms. I said I'd take a cab home, if he wasn't there by 11:30. We picked up his girl -- and it turned out to be Becky."

The three of them laughed again, and the new girl Steph took up the story. "We were surprised that the girls were good friends, and they were just as surprised that we were brothers."

Alice and Becky agreed, "Yeah," and Becky giggled some more.

"So we decided to double-date," continued Steph. "We first went for dinner, and then we saw a movie. It was a chick flick. You'd be surprised that both of us boys liked chick flicks, but of course it's sexy and exciting to watch pretty girls and women all talking and being sexy. And as a girl now, I distinctly remember the shirtless guys as hot and buff.

"After the movie, we still had three hours before we had to leave to get Alice home -- the plan was to head for home at eleven, just to be on the safe side. Anyway, we went and found a nice quiet hidden place to park. Um, girls, is it okay to tell what happened the rest of the night?"

"Sure," giggled Becky. "We don't keep secrets from each other."

"Except that some of you are GIRLs and didn't tell us -- that's Guys In Real Life," explained Carol to Steph. "Such as you. Totally justified; one doesn't want to tell such a thing without knowing first that the other knows about such things. By the way, how old are you and your brother? You would have to be sixteen in order to drive, and you look more like our age, fourteen."

"I'm eighteen," answered Steph. "And Craig is sixteen. We both can drive, but Craig's not allowed to drive at night without a guardian in the passenger seat. I guess as Steph, I'm only fourteen. Usually, Steph remains my age when I come here, but for some reason Bikini Beach made me fourteen this time."

"Sorry, that was my fault," said Becky. "I wanted to show you Bikini Beach all and my friends, and I wanted you my age, and I had no idea you knew about Bikini Beach's secret. I thought that your age would be the least of your surprises. It's only for a day."

"No, no problem at all," answered Steph. "I'm not in the least upset or offended. In fact, I'm quite flattered that you wanted me to meet and get to know your Bikini Beach friends. The only thing -- if I'd known we were going to Bikini Beach, I would have asked to bring Craig, and see if Alice could come as well. Of course, I didn't know she'd be here." Steph glanced at Alice. "All the more reason to bring Craig.

"Anyways, about last night," Steph continued. "I don't think we really need to go into detail. Alice had limits on what she was willing to do, and so we all limited ourselves." I saw that Becky was about to blurt out something, but then she kept silent. "It was all nice, mostly talking and cuddling. Then we had to take Alice home. We all met Alice's parents, and talked some more."

"That was the first time that I met Alice's parents, myself," said Becky. "We talked for quite a while, before we finally had to leave. And then I insisted that we drop Craig off home before coming to my place. Once we were alone, I told him that Alice's limits no longer applied." She giggled as she said that. "Aunt Yuko was on her own hot date that night, and we had the condo for ourselves." She giggled some more. "I thought this might be my only opportunity to have sex as a girl, and I wanted to experience it all. Heck, I had no idea a girl could cum simply from giving a blowjob."

"It's true," said Jen shyly, in almost a whisper. "If one really loves one's partner."

"I hope he reciprocated," said Alice.

"Oh, he did, he did! Boy, did he reciprocate!" replied Becky, grabbing a now scarlet Steph around the shoulders and pulling her off-balance against her.

"Um, Becky," said Carol. "One really should be discreet about one's activities with another. You really don't want to embarrass your partner."

"I discovered the next morning," said Steph, "that Becky makes wonderful breakfasts." We knew that from the sleepover, and everyone made noises and gestures of agreement. "I also met her aunt, who came home briefly before heading off to work. Then Becky insisted we go somewhere -- she didn't tell, but merely directed me, and well, here I am now.

"By the way, Becky. You said something a moment ago that, um, suggests--"

"I was a boy before coming to Bikini Beach. Aunt Yuko brought me here, and got me a whole summer's membership. Unlike you, I was completely caught by surprise."

With all this talking, we reached the Tropical Waves in almost no time. We spent quite a long time at the Tropical Waves, and I managed to get quite exhausted. With considerable difficulty, I managed to haul myself out of the water and find a reclining beach chair to collapse onto. I barely noticed the other girls following me, and I promptly fell asleep.

The rest of the morning was wonderful, and most of the time I forgot the notion that I might really be a boy. When the idea nagged at my mind, I just dismissed it -- until noon, that is.

On our way to lunch, we encountered a shop where they sold swimwear. "Hey, let's go in here," I exclaimed, realizing this might be my salvation. "I want to get a one-piece swimsuit."

"Your bikini's perfectly fine," said Becky.

"If Pa catches me in it when I get home, I'm dead," I answered angrily. "I didn't bring clothes to change into."

"They should give you one free," said Vanessa.

"What do -- Oh, look! They still have those July 4th swimsuits, and they're selling them at the same prices!" I picked one out my size, and went to pay for it.

"Lucy Cuttington?" the lady at the register asked.

"Yes, that's me," I answered, puzzled.

"We've been ordered to let you have one free, along with a tee-shirt."

"I appreciate the offer," I hesitatingly said. "I'm not sure I should accept them."

"Take'em," said Vanessa. "They owe it to you." The saleslady nodded.

"Thank-you, thank-you! Where can I change?"

I changed into the swimsuit just before lunch; it was such a relief, not to worry about Pa catching me in a bikini.

Mrs. King, Helen, and Ruth joined us for lunch, and I mentioned the trouble I got into with the group. Mrs. King said, "I do remember you following Vernon into the men's room, and I remember wondering why for a moment. But I didn't call you out on it, or anything. Now that you mention it, I don't know why I didn't say anything."

"Vanessa says that I was a boy, who changed into me in the men's changing room." I shuddered and winced as I said that.

"I've always suspected," said Ruth, surprising and scaring me. "I probably knew it before THEY erased my memory." She said the last four words in an angry growl. "You always went into the men's room to change, at least until a couple weeks ago."

"After you got your two-week pass," added Vanessa, "and remained a girl full-time."

I couldn't help sagging down in my seat, and closing my eyes. Someone climbed on my lap -- Ruth, from the feel of it. She pressed up against me, and put her arms around me. My arms automatically went around her, and I finally let loose with my tears.

The rest of the afternoon was more somber for me, even though I was conscious of the relief of the fear I'd been feeling all morning, at potentially being caught by Pa in a bikini. I tried not to think about me being a boy, what that entailed.

When it was time to go, we all gave Steph a goodbye hug. "We'll see you again, won't we?" I said. "Bring your brother, too."

She was momentarily perturbed to discover that her car didn't exist. "We probably took the bus here. That's how I always come in the morning," said Becky. "Aunt Yuko will take us home and drop you off. Your car will probably wind up in your garage tomorrow."

I had no problem with Pa when I arrived home that evening. I'd put the tee-shirt on over the swimsuit while riding home, and when I got home, I simply changed into my nightgown and robe, before returning downstairs for the evening.
. . . .

I woke up from another of my nightmares of repeatedly having to go to the bathroom, but never being able to, in progressively more bizarre and more public places.

The clock next to the bed said that it was just before 2AM. I dashed out and used the bathroom.

As I sat on the toilet letting the rushlet flow out of me, I wondered for a moment at the sensation of -- pink? -- rising up and surrounding me. A couple weeks ago, Vanessa had told me that the pink always accompanies "the change." I'd had no idea then what she was talking about.

Now, as I shook the last drops out of my dick, I wondered momentarily if I'd just experienced a Bikini Beach transformation, even as I was wondering why I was peeing sitting down.

I was still fuming at how Ma and Pa had reacted, catching me in that July-4th girls one-piece swimsuit that I'd bought and changed into yesterday. I'd thought I would fit in with the girls better, if I wore a girl's swimsuit, even if it were only a one-piece. (I didn't quite get the nerve to get a bikini; I'd probably have worn only the bottom.) The tight strap of material going between my legs even helped conceal my crotch, making it more resemble a girl's crotch.

I really couldn't say why I decided then that I wanted to fit in with the girls more in my swimwear. I know that sometimes I felt very much out of place as the only boy.

I checked my closet. Yes, it was hanging there, next to my swimming trunks.

It took a while to get back to sleep; my mind kept running over Pa's ridicule. I hadn't realized there would be trouble when I got home. But when I got home, the first the Pa said was, "*WHAT* is *THAT*?!"

I froze, my stomach sinking, almost nauseous with shame, as I realized how I looked. "So," continued Pa. "You've been around girls so much now, you want to look more like one. Perhaps you thought it would look cool. No, you just look silly. You might just have gone all-out and gotten a bikini. And for that matter, get something to fill out the top as well. Make yourself a clown, while you're at it.

"I can't believe a son of mine would show himself in public looking like that!"

Even Ma, coming into the living room from the kitchen, agreed that I looked silly in that girl's swimsuit.

Pa continued, "You're not too old to be put over my lap and spanked nice and ..." I missed the rest as he stepped toward me, because -- "Ha!" -- I jumped back into a TKD fighting stance. I remembered Wednesday's nightmare, and vowed to stay out of that position.

"So I look silly, eh? Foolish, eh? Don't come an inch closer." I twitched my front leg, hoping to get the point across. "You try anything, and I'll show you silly and foolish! So help me, I will!" I glared straight into Pa's eyes. We both stood frozen, staring at each other. I managed to hold my stare without blinking.

"Yay, Luke!" shouted Ruth.

"Ruth!" exclaimed Ma.

"And another thing!" I yelled, ready to act if Ma moved toward Ruth. "Nobody ever spanks Ruth again, either!"

"Fine!" said Pa. "Get a bikini. Go naked for all I care. Turn yourself into a girl!" He turned and stomped into his office.

Ma looked soberly at me. Ruth jumped up to hug me, and I lifted her up and held her tight to me.

That had been a most distressing, mortifying end to an otherwise nice Bikini Beach day -- marred only at the start by Jen being jealous of Vanessa and me sharing the men's changing room.

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.

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 17

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 20 (cont.)
The Conference

Grandmother emerged from a side door as we followed Anya to a conference room. She glanced at Ruth--

--and jerked to a stop, almost stumbling forward. "By all the powers, we've royally fucked up!"

I gasped in surprise at the language. Ruth gasped. Anya spun around and gasped. Ma and Pa both gasped. Mrs. Winstead gasped. It sounded as if everyone within hearing range gasped. Mr. Matsumoto remained silent with a distinct, satisfied, smug grin.

Still shocked at Grandmother's language, we silently followed Anya into the conference room. Grandmother was the last to enter, and she said, "Please, have a seat." We all sat on two sides of a medium-sized table. Ruth sat next to me, with Ma on her other side.

"Oh, I remember now," said Ma. "Somewhat, at least. I'm so very sorry, Mrs. Winstead -- for everything. I'd just completely forgotten."

Ruth replied, "Luke called it poetic justice, Ma -- being caught up yourself in Bikini Beach's reality-shift of me."

Pa spoke next, mumbling, "This is really embarrassing."

I looked over at him, and caught him turning his face down away from me. "I take it you remember that `very pretty young teenage girl' so much more now, eh Pa?"

"You're really never going to let me forget that phrase, are you, Luke." Pa, my Pa, was blushing as fiercely as I ever did.

"No, Pa, I'm not," I agreed with a smile.

"Heck, even in a plain ordinary swimsuit, you outdid every swimsuit-clad beauty contestant I'd ever seen."

"You do look very pretty as a girl, Luke," added Mr. Matsumoto. "Back in Japan, men viewed your type as just short of alien."

Talk about embarrassing! And when did he ever actually see me as Lucy, anyway?

"We have serious issues to discuss," Grandmother said, "if everyone's now accustomed to the memories of Luke and Lucy--"

"Just a moment here, Ma'am," said Pa. "If these memories are correct, I've been remembering an unpleasant confrontation with Luke a few days ago which never happened; he was Lucy at the time." Pa sounded angry.

"Yes," I agreed. "That standoff with me in a girl's swimsuit was fabricated out of whole cloth, as soon as I became Luke again that night. Why did Bikini Beach do that to us? With everything else that happened, one might think that, um," I hesitated, not wanting to outright accuse anyone. "Bikini Beach had it in for our entire family." I stammered on that last sentence; it was hard to force out.

"To be fair, Luke," said Mr. Matsumoto, "If Bikini Beach really had it in for you, you wouldn't stand a chance. I think it was merely an unintended consequence. I don't know what happened, of course."

"I can't explain fully what happened," Anya said. "But I detected your fear of going home in a bikini, and set the spell to have you keep the swimsuit when reverting -- and have you bring it with you to Bikini Beach on your later visits."

Oh oh! Did Anya just tell us in front of Pa that I'd worn a bikini here? I only vaguely heard the rest of Anya's explanation -- and didn't follow it -- worrying about Pa knowing about me and bikinis. Being out in public in a bikini was mortifying enough. Pa and Ma knowing about it was all the worse -- and Ma knew all along!

I only got back into the conversation when Grandmother spoke. "I agree. I apologize to both of you, Luke and Mr. Cuttington." Grandmother paused and then continued. "I think we must continue on with Ruth and Peter; those memories are considerably darker and more depressing."

Ruth began screaming in terror, or even pain. I turned to her, and she clambered across the chair arms onto my lap and wrapped her arms around me, and continued crying and screaming into my chest, while I patted her back.

"What have you done with Ruth?!" exclaimed Ma, as she got up and tried to take Ruth in her arms.

Ruth clung to me all the harder, as Grandmother answered, "Ruth's nine-year-old girl mind remembers anew the horrifying interrogation experienced by seventeen-year-old Peter in jail." She tapped Ma on the shoulder. "Mrs. Cuttington, there's a reason Ruth is clinging to Luke for comfort, and not you. Let her be."

"Ma," I said, "You didn't give a damn about her horrifying experiences before." I tried to hold back my tears. I wasn't concerned about punishment or retaliation for cursing this time. In fact, I was itching for a fight; any attempt to punish me would result in a real version of the confrontation Bikini Beach had fabricated Thursday night.

Ma collapsed back into her chair, looking as if she'd just been slugged. I felt bad for Ma, even as I held Ruth hard, shielding Ruth from her.

"Oh, how I wish we'd never wiped her memories. At least when she became Ruth originally, she was accustomed to those memories." And Grandmother herself burst into tears.

"Grandmother!" exclaimed Anya, helping her down into the nearest seat.

Ruth calmed down suddenly, but still kept her face buried in my chest. "I dulled the memories of the police interrogation, and pushed them into the background," Anya continued. "She will be able to continue her daily life without being haunted by those memories, and when she does think about them, it will be as through a mist, from a distance."

"I remember Peter now." said Mr. Matsumoto. "Peter was my daughter's favorite babysitter -- almost her only babysitter; she always requested him whenever we went out. Of course, once he was charged with rape and murder, we couldn't have him babysitting our daughter."

"That would have violated my bail terms, anyway," Ruth interrupted, speaking weakly. "And with the enraged mood I was in, I would have had no business babysitting Daisy even after I was fully cleared and freed." Her voice gradually strengthened.

"But we trusted him enough to recommend a top criminal defense lawyer to defend him," continued Mr. Matsumoto. The first things the lawyer did were to move for Peter's release on bail, and simultaneously move for DNA testing, indicating his confidence in Peter's innocence. Sure enough, the DNA was a complete mismatch with the murderer's. The lawyer moved for dismissal of the charges based on the DNA results. While the prosecutor insisted on redoing the DNA testing, at least he put it at top priority, and when he got the same results, he concurred in the motion.

"Both the defense lawyer and I were crafting a motion for a special prosecutor to investigate Peter's interrogation, and preparing litigation against the police department for their conduct, when Mrs. Cuttington took Peter and Luke to Bikini Beach."

Mrs. Winstead said, "Everyone, I most sincerely hope that we haven't forgotten the Denison girl who was raped and murdered."

Ruth came alive, spinning around on my lap, glaring at Mrs. Winstead. "Grandmother? Anya? Someone? Please knock some sense into that woman's thick skull. Without mind control, if possible, please." She pressed back against me, and held my arms firmly around her waist.

"Ma'am," said Grandmother, recovering her composure, her tone turning from sadness to anger. "You have been provided with information sufficient to establish that Peter never killed or raped Jill Denison. If you can't be persuaded, and you don't limit your participation to constructive discussion, well..." Grandmother trailed off.

"You don't want to provoke a powerful magic user, Mrs. Winstead," said Ruth.

I added, "I've heard quite a bit from my friends here about Grandmother, although I never met her until now. She apparently founded Bikini Beach herself, with all its magical properties."

"Mrs. Winstead," said Mr. Matsumoto, "if what we said earlier didn't get through, perhaps this might: the night before Erin took Peter and Luke to Bikini Beach, the arrest of the actual killer was announced, based on DNA matching."

"I saw the news report on TV," said Pa. "I told Erin, and she said, `Thanks for the information.' It didn't sound quite welcome, or that she made anything of it."

"It wouldn't have made any difference to Ma, always thinking the worst of me even after I was cleared of the murder."

"Ruth!" said Ma. "How can you say such a thing about your own Ma!?"

"Thinking that I was still Jill Denison's murderer -- after being exonerated by the prosecutor and the judge, and incredibly, after being told that the murderer was arrested," answered Ruth. "Need I go further? Once Ma gets stuck on an idea, she won't change her mind, regardless of the evidence. Okay, maybe you didn't know anything about DNA. Maybe we can blame the insidious influence of your Firmlove group."

"Firmlove is hardly insidious," replied Ma indignantly, having apparently recovered her composure. "We've turned around numerous bad cases, by refusing to enable their misbehavior and make excuses for them. A teenage drug dealer who is jailed for a while has more inclination to reform than one who is immediately bailed out, and gotten off by a smart defense attorney. A teenage girl caught up in Wicca, witchcraft, or paganism must be firmly addressed before she ruins her life."

Mrs. Winstead nodded.

That didn't sound quite right. Wasn't it witchcraft at Bikini Beach that changed us, and made us forget? Weren't we among witches even now -- or the equivalent at least?

"One could just as well say that about being caught up in Christian Science," replied Ruth.

"Oh, come on," said Ma. "You know that's completely different." I noticed Mrs. Winstead looking at Ma out the corner of her eye; she might not have agreed with Ma.

"Or being caught up in modern high-energy physics," continued Ruth. "Especially as some of your Firmlovers confuse modern physics with paganism." Mrs. Winstead's glance shifted to Ruth. "For that matter, one could say that about NOT being caught up in one's own particular cult. After all, if one took seriously the notion of eternally burning in the Fires of Hell, one would want to Save whoever one could.

"Anyways," she said. "That derailed what I was going to say. I really hope that anyone who knew about the arrest and also knew about Ma taking me to Bikini Beach to be changed would rush in to stop the process." Ruth looked pointedly at Mrs. Winstead.

"Young lady, you aren't insinuating anything, I hope," Mrs. Winstead said.

"I thought someone would sarcastically ask what that arrest had to do with my guilt in the murder, Mrs. Winstead. I already made the insinuation about Ma. You are the only other person to know that Ma was taking me to Bikini Beach to change me into nine-year-old Ruth. I hope you were simply unaware of the arrest of Jill's murderer. But you already seem to have failed the test: if my arrest meant that I was the murderer, they wouldn't have arrested anyone else."

"Isn't that obvious?" I added.

"I just don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs. Winstead.

"Everyone, my request for someone to knock sense into her thick skull still stands," said Ruth.

"Erin," said Mr. Matsumoto, "That Dan informed you of the arrest, and you still continued with Peter's punishment is manifest gross negligence -- criminal negligence even -- resulting in liability if we ever get to litigation in Peter's transformation to Ruth. But I sincerely believe," he looked around at everyone, including Grandmother, "that litigation won't be necessary. I trust this conference will lead to mitigating or undoing the damage."

"Mr. Matsumoto," said Ruth. "I didn't know about the arrest due to the DNA testing. When I became Ruth, the reality-shift probably wiped out the DNA testing and the resulting arrest -- the crime was literally unsolved. Later, as Ruth, I tried to get you -- as the only lawyer I knew -- to get DNA testing on the current suspect, who's still in jail. What happened?"

"I did contact the defense attorney and the prosecution both. I didn't have any sway over the prosecutor, but I did manage to persuade the defense attorney to move for DNA testing. I had no news since then, and of course with Ruth's membership upgrade, I forgot. I assume that my request and any motions made as a result thereof, any testing commenced in consequence of my request, were wiped out as well. Would that be correct, Grandmother?" He looked pointedly at her.

"Unfortunately, you and Ruth are most likely correct, both ways," said Grandmother. "But at least I can do something there. I have contacts in the police department who know about Bikini Beach and its transformations." She grabbed a telephone and dialed.

She spoke several times, apparently attempting to reach her contact. Shortly, Grandmother turned on speakers, letting us all hear the conversation.

"Chief, I'm calling about the Jill Denison murder case."

"Ma'am, we've wrapped up the case, and it's out of our hands now. We've transferred it for prosecution."

"Did you compare the DNA of the suspect and the crime scene?" asked Grandmother.

"No, we found that unnecessary. We have a detailed, signed confession to the murder, from the defendant."

Ruth came alive again. "That confession was false! They made him confess!"

Grandmother said, "The speaker is a Bikini Beach member. Before her change and resulting reality-shift, he was the murder suspect. He was innocent, and his confession was procured through police misconduct."

Ruth said, "They terrorized me, threatened me, kept me perpetually awake, kept pushing me to confess, lying about evidence against me, so much else."

The voice on the phone said, "That young lady -- she sounds like a child, by the way. She needs a lesson in logic. Just because she or he may have been forced to confess falsely doesn't mean our defendant was."

Ruth said, "Bikini Beach may have wiped me as Peter out of existence. It didn't wipe out those cops I faced. It didn't wipe out their decision to find a suspect to take into their back rooms, to work him over and make him confess. If they'd do that to an upper-middle-class white teenager, imagine what they'd do to a young black man."

Grandmother said, "You really must do the DNA testing. If your defendant turns out to be innocent despite his confession, I will be highly upset. Make sure I'm upset with someone else."

"I see your point, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Chief." Grandmother hung up, and turned back to us. "I could visit the suspect this afternoon at the jail, and determine his innocence or guilt. In fact, I'll do just that. And if he is innocent, I can ensure that he is promptly released, and act against the miscreants who extracted his confession -- or Peter's confession."

"Grandmother?" I said, nervous about talking to and getting her attention. "I am really concerned about the suspect. I envision him minding his own business, doing his own thing, Saturday morning when Ma took Peter and me to Bikini Beach. When Peter becomes Ruth, the new suspect is suddenly in jail for Jill's murder. He suddenly remembers being in jail since the murder, being questioned about the murder, undergoing the HELL of Peter's interrogation, and confessing to the murder. The world around shifts to him being the suspect. Would this be correct?"

Grandmother turned to me, and I could see behind her distressed visage a hint of her reputed sternness and authority, but also of grandmotherly kindness as well. "Issues of time and timing are involved, but for the most part, I am very sorry to say that that is one way of seeing it, young Luke. I don't wish to sound as if I were making excuses, but Anya and I were on vacation. We'd left the park in the hands of a junior mage for a week. I would have caught the miscarriage of justice, and I'm sure Anya would have too. I know it's no excuse, and for the life of me, I regret it all."

"I'm not as confident as Grandmother about my detecting the miscarriage, since I didn't catch it the second time around, when we upgraded her membership," Anya said sorrowfully.

"That happened the day after July 4th, right after we asked about Ruth's case. You mentioned Peter's `murderous thoughts.' I totally freaked out that night, because I thought Peter might have been murderous. You do realize now what those thoughts were?"

"Oh Luke, I'm so sorry. I do remember how sick and distressed you got, Luke. Unfortunately, our scanners didn't distinguish Peter's rage against the police from actual dark, evil, murderous intent. Grandmother always admonished me to look deeper, to probe deeper. Had I done so, I wouldn't have allowed Ruth's reality-shift and lifetime upgrade to go through, and I would have caught the miscarriage of justice she was already under. It's been a travesty all over."

"Thank you, Anya," I said. "Something should have clued in Ma and Mrs. Winstead: in this reality where Peter supposedly never existed, another man has been held in jail since Jill's murder, in place of Peter but without Pa's ability to hire a good lawyer."

"In this reality," added Mr. Matsumoto, "the suspect's face -- a black eighteen-year-old young man -- a boy, really -- has been repeatedly shown on television since almost the day of the murder. He was portrayed as the murderer, without any questioning his guilt, and numerous columnists and talk-show hosts cited this case as illustrating the need for an effective, quick death penalty."

Mrs. Winstead opened her mouth, then shut it.

"I only hope that if DNA shows his innocence, he is able to bring libel actions against those talk-show hosts, for major defamation. It's in his favor that he is not a public figure -- although an attorney with chutzpah might argue that he is one by virtue of his face appearing all over television."

There was a tense moment of silence. I had the sense that everyone wanted to say something, but were hesitant about speaking out. Then Grandmother said, "I sense, Mr. Matsumoto, that you have wanted to tell me off about my practice for many years." Mr. Matsumoto looked shamefaced. "Peter/Ruth's case makes your point quite well, so go ahead. I'll try not to take offense."

"Very well, Ma'am," he said to Grandmother. "You already realized that Bikini Beach's second reality shift wiped out our attempt to have DNA testing for the suspect -- wiped out our attempt to obtain evidence for the defense. Clearly an unintended consequence which, if intended, would be obstruction of justice. Your response has been satisfactorily prompt, and I thank you for that. I'm going to repeat the request to the prosecuting and defense attorneys, but I expect that your request will produce faster results -- at least if they know what's good for them." That produced laughter all around. Mr. Matsumoto continued, "You also realize that Bikini Beach's first reality shift replaced Peter with another unfortunate suspect in the same position -- and wiped out the murder's solution and the arrest of the murderer. You may also realize that Peter's life was ruined."

"I wouldn't go that far," said Ruth. "Although I might change my mind, once I begin fourth grade. I was planning to go to Pacific Tech, but that could be postponed -- assuming that they didn't accept a nine-year-old applicant. I can't really tell how much my mind has retained Peter's knowledge and skills."

"While Peter can't be restored, unfortunately," said Anya, "It is possible to age you back to your original age, or some other age. Reality would be shifted to reflect the change, and your acceptance at Pacific Tech would be restored for the new Ruth."

"It would be Ruth's choice, of course, but I oppose on principle the mind-control that would entail," said Mr. Matsumoto.

"Me, too -- especially now that I've been a victim," said Ruth. "I had severe trouble telling my story. And then I completely forgot, when you got me the lifetime upgrade. Mind control is evil. Except for softening my memories of the police interrogation. Thank you for that, Anya." I felt her shudder on my lap, even as she smiled at Anya. "I'm not sure what I want to do. I don't mind being a nine-year-old girl any more. I don't want to give up my friends. Daisy's the best friend one could wish for. I've made friends with other girls at home -- and also the girls at Bikini Beach. Then there's Luke, the best big brother in the world--"

"Oh, come on now!" I said, blushing, and Ruth pressed herself hard back against me in my lap.

"-- something I would never have imagined as Peter. I only had a couple friends as Peter. Both Luke and I were mostly loners before this summer. Also, I'm not really in any hurry to go to Pacific Tech; it could be postponed several years. One thing I really don't wish to do is repeat elementary school and middle school, although I could do it."

"We don't have to decide now," said Grandmother. "You have plenty of time to think about it. There are colleges and universities with early entrance programs, where they accept children, usually middle-school age but sometimes as young as nine, into college. Maybe you could try for one of those."

"I'm also thinking of perhaps redoing high school, but with a different focus. I could place out of some of the required classes, or perhaps redo them better than before, and take different electives. I could focus on theater, art, and music, for example. I'm definitely going to continue ballet. Taekwondo, too."

"We can figure that out as we go along," said Mr. Matsumoto. "The only issue of urgency is what to do about Ruth and fourth grade. Of course, I expect you to take care of necessary expenses involved," he said to Grandmother.

"Just one minute there," said Ma. "No daughter of mine will engage in such an unladylike activity as Taekwondo."

"Pardon me, Ma. I'm your older son. I became your little daughter through no fault of my own. And because of your abuse of your authority, your treatment of me, you have forfeited any moral right to a mother's authority over me. Once I was accused of the rape and murder, you thought the worst of me, and acted accordingly -- persistently, in the face of contrary proof."

Ma looked like she wanted to say something. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out. Finally she collapsed back into her seat, looking about to cry.

"Seriously, Ma, you really don't want a defenseless daughter growing up. Ballet and martial arts are a lethal combination, as Pa found out the hard way."

"I'd completely forgotten that," said Pa. "I now understand more why you did that, and why you said what you said. It makes sense with you having been Peter."

The conversation drifted. At one point, it got back to Peter, the jailed suspect, and the rogue police officers. Mr. Matsumoto admitted, "I'm double-minded -- very uncertain -- about it all. I'm perfectly fine with you visiting the suspect and determining his innocence. And if he IS innocent, we want him released as soon as possible. `Justice delayed is justice denied,' jail is unpleasant, and he's languished there far too long. But I can't really see you accomplishing his release fast without mind control or similar. DNA testing should clench the decision, making it clear to everyone."

"Perhaps this might satisfy you," said Grandmother. If I find that the suspect is innocent, I may be able to have him released on bail while the DNA testing progresses. Even if he's constrained by Peter's bail conditions, it's better for him. It would require only subtle pushing."

"I think that's a fine compromise. I don't wish to go too far with slippery-slope thinking," said Mr. Matsumoto. "As for acting against the rogue police officers, again I'm uncertain -- but only when the law refuses to act against rogue officers in general. Vigilantism is a sin, and there's a reason we don't allow anyone to go around punishing people they think are criminals. Legally, even the law is barred from punishing them without publicly proving their guilt first.

"I've wanted to tell you off for setting yourself up as judge, jury, and executioner all at once. I have to concede in Ruth's case that Bikini Beach served only as executioner, with Mrs. Cuttington and Mrs. Winstead serving as judge and jury, after the real judge *AND* the prosecutor dismissed the case for contrary evidence."

Ma closed her eyes, sat back in her chair, and looked about to cry again. Mrs. Winstead opened her mouth, then shut it again. I couldn't help being sorry for Ma, even though I tried to harden my heart. I had no such qualms or feelings about Mrs. Winstead; I was very happy to see her told off by a fellow adult.

"I realize that if you were involved," continued Mr. Matsumoto, "You would have become judge as well as executioner, and done the right thing and said no."

Grandmother bobbed her head. "I appreciate that."

"Likewise, you realize that when Mrs. Cuttington brought her sons here, someone in your position did the Wrong Thing. But as I said earlier," he continued, ignoring Anya and Grandmother's guilty expressions, "I am uncertain about acting against the rogue officers who extracted Peter's confession or the current suspect's confession. On the one hand, if the problem's only a few bad apples, the law will easily deal with it. On the other hand, if the law won't deal with it, the problem's more than just a few bad apples -- the entire force is rotten, and the rot extends to the prosecutor's office. The rot extends pretty much to anyone in a position to do anything about it.

"This would leave vigilante justice as the only option. However, since the prosecutor agreed rather quickly to dismiss the charges against Peter, I would think that if this suspect is exonerated, he might be willing to go after at least those bad cops who extracted the suspect's confession. At least, let's give him a chance, or a special prosecutor a chance."

Talking went on, and I fogged out, or perhaps promptly forgot passages as soon as I heard them. Until...

"Mind-control is just about the most insidious aspect of your practice, Ma'am. First, we mustn't confuse mind control with human stupidity or the nasty tactics used to program human stupidity. Once Erin and Mrs. Winstead decides that Peter's exoneration was merely a high-powered lawyer getting him off, it becomes difficult if not impossible for the facts to get through. It explains their dismissal of DNA evidence. It might even explain their dismissal of the arrest of the real murderer; stupidity knows no bounds. But their conviction that Peter was a rapist-murderer in the face of the arrest of the actual murderer could as well be mind control: changing their minds would be barred.

"Here's a particularly insidious example of the evil mind-control could do: a girl could emerge from Bikini Beach's men's changing room, and her friend who used the women's room would not see a problem -- not even if someone pointed it out. Her mind would be barred from those thoughts."

"Well, inside Bikini Beach, the men's room is labeled the women's overflow room," said Ruth. "That might make a difference."

"Not really," said Mr. Matsumoto. "One could remember that the room was the men's changing room, even if labeled otherwise from the inside -- unless mind-control blocked the memory."

I shuddered as the implications hit home. "That happened with me as Lucy," I said. "I changed and showered in the men's changing room every time except during that two-week pass. I mostly didn't even think of it. Not until Jen got mad at me, and then I remembered why -- falsely. It was a false memory. Before that, when Vanessa, or Vernon, and I changed, Vanessa hinted pretty blatantly why we were both in the men's room, and I was just confused."

"Then there was how I could never tell my story," said Ruth. "Then after I'd forgotten everything, Mrs. Winstead was nice enough -- unintentionally, of course -- to tell Lucy and me what happened."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Winstead, who for the most part, had remained silent throughout.

"Mrs. Winstead, if you told someone who knew nothing about Bikini Beach and its transformations, that I was formerly an older boy named Peter, what do you think she'd say?" Mrs. Winstead didn't answer. "First Ma came home in a huff and told Pa about it. Then next week, Ma told your entire Firmlove friends about it, and you and Ma had a catfight."

"Ruth!" exclaimed Ma and Mrs. Winstead simultaneously, both clearly embarrassed. I couldn't help laughing, a bit embarrassed myself. I could see Mr. Matsumoto barely holding in his mirth.

He said, "There's always the concern about telling one's story; it sounds so unbelievable to one not already familiar with Bikini Beach. Mind control might ratchet up that fear. Or mind control may make it not to occur to someone even, to tell his story. For those who want to tell their story, mind-control can easily sabotage the attempt. I've had a few young ladies come to my office ostensibly to consult, only to come onto me rather hard, sexually. I've always managed to resist without difficulty, thanks to my dear wife who's also my best friend. Those young ladies were mostly of legal age, but a few looked as young as fifteen. Knowing what Bikini Beach could do, my guess is that they wanted to consult with me about something done to their minds, and the very thing done to their minds mangled it. Not necessarily Bikini Beach itself -- it could have been someone else's doing.

He glanced at Pa and Ma. "Dan and Erin, I never told you about our experience with Bikini Beach. I might tell you sometime. Now I don't want to change anything to endanger Daisy." He visibly shuddered. "I realize I've made myself vulnerable in that respect, but then everyone with a family is vulnerable.

"I once read a novel, _Replay_, whose author I've forgotten, where the protagonist repeatedly dies and finds himself back in time, back as his earlier self. In one case, he had an eleven-year-old daughter at the time he went back. He was most distressed over it, and it was no consolation that his daughter never existed in the first place in the following replays. She was alive and conscious at one moment, and at the next, she didn't exist -- the very definition of being killed."

"Sir," said Grandmother, slowly. "I admit that if you pushed me or Anya too hard, I might have reminded or warned you about the danger to your daughter. But I would never kill a child that way in my ordinary practice -- circumstances would have to be dire in the extreme to resort to that."

I kept thinking and shivering about the mind-control and death through reality-shift -- never having been born. Thinking of Daisy as a possibility made me almost cry. I could tell Ruth on my lap felt the same way. I lost quite a bit of the following conversation.

"... school starting in little over a month," Mr. Matsumoto was saying. "Something has to be done if we don't want Ruth redoing fourth grade. Other than that, we have time to decide what to do." It sounded as though things were wrapping up. "Is there anything else?"

The conference ended. Grandmother stood up, and the rest of us followed her example. As we filed out, I said, "Good bye, Anya and Grandmother. Have a good day."

"Have a great day yourself," replied Anya, while Grandmother said a simple, "Good day."

It was a relief for the conference to end. At least unlike most conferences, where everything went completely over my head and I was bored out of my mind, I was able to follow and participate a good part of the time. But its end was still a relief.

When we got home, the first thing I did was change out of my suit, into shorts and tee-shirt. I vaguely noticed in the back of my mind Ma rushing to her bedroom.

When I went back downstairs, I was astonished to hear Ma weeping and even wailing in her bedroom. I just couldn't take it; I scrunched up my face to avoid crying myself. "Luke," said Pa. "This turn of events has upset Ma extremely. She took a number of hard hits today."

I had no idea what to say, what to do. I went into the dining room. We'd left a good part of Sunday Dinner on the table, so I began packing the remains into leftover containers and taking the dishes to the sink, scraping the dried food off, and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. Pa joined me, and we worked in silence, cleaning everything up.

I was feeling guilty anew at what we'd done to Ma, after she'd made us that huge feast. Only the focus on our clean-up kept me from breaking down right then and there.

Afterwards, I just collapsed in the living room on one of the chairs, feeling oh-so-tired as well as sad and guilty. Pa went to his bedroom to be with Ma.

The doorbell rang, and I went to answer it. It was Daisy. "Hi Luke. How did the meeting go?"

"Oh, it had its good parts and its bad parts. Grandmother immediately caught their awful mistake with Ruth. Ma remembers everything now, and is finally persuaded that she did Peter wrong. In fact, for the most part, it went horrible for her." I had to blink away tears.

Ruth was just behind me. "Yeah, it's unbelievable, isn't it?" I had no idea what she meant.

Ruth pulled me back into the living room, sat me down in one of the armchairs, and clambered into my lap, leaning against me and pulling my arms around her. "There's nothing more cozy than Luke's lap. Especially when you've been distressed."

"Give me room, too, Ruth!" said Daisy.

"I think I might be able to accommodate both of you," I said, as Daisy climbed up on my lap next to Ruth. My arms went around both of them.

We spent the rest of the day sitting that way, relaxing and dozing off, occasionally talking.

Ma and Pa came out, and we had our usual light Sunday evening snack.

Afterwards, I recalled that I had piano lessons tomorrow. Remembering Peter wasn't going to change that, so I practiced a half-hour.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 18

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.

Monday, July 21

I awoke the next morning, feeling utterly depressed and wondering why. Running over yesterday's events, I realized I felt sorry for Ma. I kept thinking over and over, how hard Ma worked for us at home -- the feast she made yesterday, for example.

Then at Bikini Beach, when she finally remembered what she'd done to Peter/Ruth, even Bikini Beach admitted that they had horribly wronged Peter -- Bikini Beach, which had actually done the job. Ma had taken several heart-rending blows. Ruth had even renounced Ma as her Ma.

I found myself weeping, when Ruth knocked at the door. "Come in, Ruth."

She entered and sat on my bed. "We were horrible to Ma," she said somberly.

"Yeah. Everyone was, except Mrs. Winstead. And Pa," I added as an afterthought.

"We were horrible to Mrs. Winstead, too," said Ruth.

"Yeah, although I'm not feeling very sorry for her. If anyone was the villain, she was."

"The police interrogators were," she corrected me.

I didn't want to get into any dispute with Ruth about meaning villains at the conference, so I simply agreed, "Of course."

We sat for a moment, then Ruth said, "I'm so grateful to Anya for what she did to my memories of the interrogation. It seems like only a bad dream now. I don't think I could live with the memories."

I couldn't help crying at that, and couldn't say or do anything other than pull Ruth against me for a hug. I felt myself getting sleepy, and said as much. Ruth grabbed the covers and pulled them over both of us, and we lay down and slept for another couple hours.

We awoke to a soft knocking on the door. The door was slowly opening, and Daisy peeked from behind the door.

"Hi Daisy," I greeted her. "Come on in and join us. I have to go to the bathroom first." I slipped out of bed, did the job, and returned and sat on the bed.

"I want to go to the library," said Ruth. "I want to really see how much of Peter's skills I've retained. It's not just knowledge; one can look up facts. I mean like math -- algebra, the ability to do problems. I'm afraid this would bore you, Daisy. I'm sorry."

"That's Peter in you," said Daisy. "What you learned in high school."

"I hope I haven't lost too much," said Ruth. "You'll probably be bored with it."

"Oh, I'll be fine. I'll go to the usual area, and maybe get the next Tamora Pierce book."

We finally got up and went downstairs. It was rather late, and Pa had apparently left for work. Ma was in her bedroom, but came out to warm up breakfast for us. She reached for the cassette player to turn on the Mental Work, but Ruth grabbed it first.

"We've all heard it," she said. "Many times. At the one critical issue where success was most essential, the Mental Work utterly failed."

Ma stood there, limp, obviously trying to hold in her tears. Even though it was one of the hardest and most embarrassing things to do -- for me as Luke (it would have been different as Lucy, thinking I was always Lucy) -- I got up and hugged Ma. She cried on my shoulder, and both Ruth and Daisy went around to hug her as well.

After a while, she pulled away and conceded, "Very well, I won't require you to listen to the Mental Work, or the Lesson anymore." She sounded resigned.

"Ma, I still have ballet today, and Luke still has piano lessons and Taekwondo. May we go to the library?" Ruth asked.

"Yes, you may."

We went upstairs, and changed into our uniforms -- my white TKD uniform and Ruth's leotard with the wrap-around skirt.

On the way to the library, I asked Ruth, "Are you okay with ballet? I mean, now as Peter?"

"Sure, no problem. I'll admit that, as Peter, the notion of wearing a leotard and doing ballet would have mortified me had it ever occurred to me. But I got over it rather quickly once I became Ruth. And as I said yesterday, Taekwondo and ballet make a lethal combination."

"For me, the notion of being a girl mortified me, when I found out, that is. It must have been double for you, turning into a little girl," I said.

"Embarrassing, mortifying, and really really creepy, utterly strange. Seeing you changed as well reduced the embarrassment. But then you started talking strange, and acting strange."

"As if I were always Lucy, and you were always Ruth," I said. "That must have been... must have driven you crazy."

"And how! Then Ma appeared, and you left me to her tender mercies."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, remembered how Ma viewed Peter at the time. I reached down to hug her.

"Wasn't your fault," she said. "Ma practically taunted me that you wouldn't remember anything. She was almost Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to me."

"Who are they?" asked Daisy.

"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" asked Ruth. "It's an old story, one I didn't actually read, although I saw an old movie of it. Basically, Dr. Jekyll is a doctor and an inventor He invents a potion that separates a person's bad side from his good side.

"When he drinks the potion, he turns into a psychopathic killer named Mr. Hyde. Mr. Hyde gradually takes over Dr. Jekyll. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde have become the metaphor for someone who's nice and friendly with (say) your parents, but then turns into a witch with you. She could be a teacher."

"Oh," said Daisy.

Carol was at the library again. We saw that she was reading a magazine. She jumped and ran toward us. "Hi, guys!" she said breathlessly, hugging first me and then Ruth and Daisy. I noticed she seemed a bit flushed.

"There's so much I have to tell you, Carol!" I said, hugging her again. "A lot happened yesterday."

"Luke," said Ruth. "Don't worry about getting me to ballet. I'll make it on my own. Go ahead and do your own things."

I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Is it okay if I tell Carol about yesterday?"

Ruth said out loud, "Go ahead. She knows most of it already."

"Let's go outside," said Carol. "That way, we don't have to keep our voices down."

As we walked out, I glanced back at Ruth and Daisy. They were at the table Carol was sitting at, and I saw Daisy peek under the magazine. It was just a glance; I couldn't make out if anything really was underneath.

Once we were outside, Carol said, "I couldn't help it; the temptation was too great. I had to read 'Forbidden Flowers' again." She took a deep, deep breath. "I really have to get Mom to put me on birth control."

Yikes! I wasn't sure which scared me more, the shocking exciting prospect that Carol might actually have sex with me, or that Carol might actually ask her Mom about such things. I grabbed Carol and pulled her into a tight embrace, and she pressed her mouth up hard against mine. We kissed and made out for several minutes, before I had to come up for air. I was red-faced, and even Carol had a tinge of red.

To change the subject -- and to get back to what I'd wanted to tell her in the first place -- I said, "A lot happened. Um, you still remember me as Lucy, right?"

"Yeah. It's so weird!" she answered. "I mean, Saturday was the first time I saw you as Lucy, but remembered Luke. And now I remember Lucy. There's a whole world of difference between figuring out and knowing intellectually that you were a girl, and actually remembering it. Then seeing you as Lucy and remembering Luke.

"The closest I came before was when I joined Vernon and you together in line for Bikini Beach. I'm not even sure now, whether I remembered Vernon or Vanessa before seeing you guys. But during that half-hour at least, my memories of Vanessa were retconned into memories of Vernon. I only consciously remembered a few things, but overall I remembered Vernon at Bikini Beach."

"That was when Mrs. King got us the two-week passes, and we turned into Vanessa and Lucy."

"Yeah. Then bizarrely, I remembered being with Vernon and Lucy in line."

"While I remembered only Vanessa, once she changed."

"Yeah," she said. "I continued to remember Vernon, while you remembered purely Vanessa. But all three of us remembered only Lucy."

"That was Ma's doing," I answered. "She and Mrs. Winstead arranged the whole cursed thing."

"Well, to continue my story, my memories of Vanessa reverted to the proper memories once she changed. I still remembered, during that half-hour of Vernon, remembering Vanessa as Vernon -- vague memories except for a few that I consciously went over. For example, I still remember remembering the false memory of meeting Vernon the first time at Bikini Beach. Boy, that sounded convoluted, didn't it?"

"No, not at all," I said. "I have a lot of that myself. Embarrassing case in point -- not that the whole thing about being a girl with Pa isn't embarrassing enough --" Carol laughed. "But anyways. Remember that time I was terrified of going home and being caught by Pa in a bikini?"

She nodded. "You got a one-piece swimsuit."

"Yeah, I wised up. Having Pa see me in that was embarrassing enough, but at least he grudgingly accepted those for swimming. But then I became Luke, and memories changed. Luke went home wearing a tight girl's one-piece swimsuit."

Carol squeaked, suppressing her obvious laughter. "Sorry. I can't help laughing every time I think of it, even though I know it didn't happen."

"Yeah," I agreed. "Utterly silly-looking. Pa began chewing me out, and our confrontation almost got violent. It didn't happen. I no longer remember it happening, but I remember remembering it and repeatedly going over it. And Saturday, I brought that swimsuit with me to Bikini Beach, firmly deciding to wear it again -- just to say, `Up yours!' to Pa."

"Yeah, that's what I was talking about. I only saw Vernon that half-hour in line. But with you, I'm remembering a whole slew of false memories of you as Luke, false memories of you as Lucy, genuine -- I hope -- memories of both." She laughed and said, "A very hot, very handsome guy. A very hot, very pretty girl." She grabbed me in a hug, and we kissed and made out again.

I looked her up and down. "And my memories of you: all girl, very pretty, whose smile lights up the world." I blushed while saying that, and we kissed some more.

"Say, Luke. Is it time for piano yet?"

"Yikes!" I glanced at my watch. "Still half an hour to go. Ruth has all of Peter's memories now -- I haven't told you that story yet. Let's get my stuff, and I'll tell you on the way."

We returned to the library's front desk and I retrieved my knapsack with my piano music.

"Going home, meeting Ma and Pa as Lucy, was a frightening and embarrassing thing Saturday," I said. "They had no memories of Lucy -- only Daisy did. They were easily persuaded that I was Luke, even though I was, in Pa's words, `a very pretty young teenage girl.' They said I looked both like an older version of Ruth and a very young version of Ma."

Carol giggled. "I can imagine it, a boy being seen as a very pretty young girl -- by one's parents no less. Becky expressed the same sentiments."

"My bedroom, or Lucy's, clinched it for them, I think."

"Anyways, I persuaded Ma to make up with Mrs. Winstead, and invite her for Sunday dinner. I had the idea of having Mrs. Winstead come clean about Bikini Beach. At the same time, I proposed to Pa that Daisy and her parents come for Sunday dinner. Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have invited you, too."

"Oh. that's quite all right." She smiled and put her hand on my shoulder.

I forgot for a moment what I was going to say. Then, "Yesterday morning, we got to talking a bit. Mainly to confirm to Pa that he wasn't dreaming the day before when he saw me. We told him about Bikini Beach transformations. I'm not sure he believed me, since he remembered only Luke except for the day before yesterday.

"We went to church. Then after church, we had Sunday Dinner with Mrs. Winstead and Daisy and her parents. It took a while, but then I managed to bring up Bikini Beach."

"How did that go over?" asked Carol.

"Mrs. Winstead confirmed that Ruth was indeed formerly my big brother Peter, seventeen at the time, and accused of the rape and murder. We got into quite an argument in spots, with Mrs. Winstead being fundamentally clueless about the very notion of someone being falsely accused. Oh, and Pa has forbidden us from going to Bikini Beach, because of what it does to our minds. I can't go tomorrow, or any more."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. The girls'll miss you."

"I'll miss them as well. At least I'll continue to see you, Carol. Anyway, ironically, we all went to Bikini Beach yesterday to discuss Ruth and Peter. Everyone except Mrs. Matsumoto and Daisy. I met Grandmother for the first time."

"Oh? How did it go?" asked Carol.

"She wasn't stern in the least with me or Ruth. In fact, one glance at Ruth, and she freaked out with guilt. She restored everyone's memories of us, and what happened, including the criminal case. I don't know about Mrs. Winstead, but Ma was finally convinced that she did Peter wrong. Peter was no murderer." I continued, wondering whether I should really say this. "I don't know if I told you this before, but," I was really shaking with fear. "The murder case was Alice's cousin's murder." There. I got it out.

"I don't think you told me, but I pretty much knew it. At least Ruth, Peter didn't do it."

"We also learned that the day before Ma took us to Bikini Beach, the actual murderer was arrested based on the DNA testing. He's not the current suspect. Bikini Beach wiped that out when they changed Peter to Ruth. The current suspect is someone different."

The subject was depressing, and we remained silent after this until we reached Mrs. Prudence's house.

Carol waited outside while I had a piano lesson worse than usual -- far from the worst, but still worse than usual. Then we went to the mall for Taekwondo, and then to meet Ruth and Daisy again at the ballet studio.

I remembered doing ballet as Lucy. I tried a few leaps and spins on the way. My mind remembered, although my body was overly stiff. Nevertheless, I managed them without total clumsiness. Muscle-memory, I figured, must not be really muscle memory, but some level of mind-memory.

Carol applauded, and then hugged me. "Not bad! Not bad at all!"

We reached the studio just as Daisy and Ruth emerged with other kids. One of them said, "They're here for you again, Ruth. Hi, guys!"

"Hi, guys!" I responded.

Ruth whispered in Daisy's ear, then said, "See-ya, guys," to the others. Ruth and Daisy both ran up and jumped on us, Daisy on me and Ruth on Carol.

I lifted Daisy up for a good hug, and Carol hoisted Ruth with some trouble. "Ooof!" she exclaimed. "I'm not used to carrying kids like this."

"This has been only a fairly recent development for me as well," I said while adjusting one hand under Daisy's bottom and the other around her back to hold her firmly against me. She wrapped her legs and arms around me. "But one gets accustomed to it quickly, especially when one discovers how wonderful it is. But don't expect us to carry you all the way home like this," I added. "I'm not quite up to that."

We were slowly making our way to the stairs, as the other girls and boys from Ruth's ballet class rushed past us to get home, many saying goodbye to Ruth.

"Carol, I never realized until now how pretty you are," said Ruth.

"Geez, thanks, Ruth," Carol said.

"Pretty... hot... sexy," Ruth continued, in a husky voice, sounding almost lecherous. "If Luke had brought you home while I was still Peter... well, it's very uncool to hit on one's kid brother's girlfriend. Nevertheless, I would have had a hard time restraining myself from hitting on you--" Carol emitted an embarrassed laugh. "Especially after getting to know you, even risking making an enemy of my kid brother." Ruth looked over at me. "You have excellent taste in girlfriends, Luke."

I blushed before I came up with an appropriate come-back. "I would simply have to console myself with Daisy." I held her tighter to me, and she kissed my cheek, as both Ruth and Carol laughed.

Carol and I let down the girls when we reached the stairs down, and we walked the mile walk home, talking about random things.

We spent the afternoon playing outside with other friends of Daisy and Ruth until dinner time.

It was during dinner that the call from Mr. Matsumoto came. Daisy was momentarily scared that she should have gone home or called at the very least, but his call was about something completely different. Pa spoke with him for a while, then hung up and told us the news:

"Timothy Anderson, the suspect in the Denison murder has been released on bail."

"Grandmother worked fast," commented Ruth.

"He's been released into his older brother's custody. His bail conditions are basically house arrest except for court appearances and church attendance -- pretty much the same as Peter's were over a month ago."

"I'm really frightened about his mental state," said Ruth. "I mean, I was enraged, imagining all sorts of vengeance against the police, with a hair-trigger temper. And he's been in jail more than a month longer than me. I hope he can manage to stay home, holding to his bail conditions, and avoid ripping his house apart. Or maybe Grandmother softened his memories."

"I understand he lives in town in an apartment with his brother," said Pa. The rest of his family lives in a small town quite a ways away. He was here originally to attend a better high school, and he just graduated this past spring."

"This is getting scary," I said. I was afraid of learning that... "He's black, right?"

"Yes," said Pa.

"What was his name again?"

"Timothy Anderson."

"Also called Tim? And he lives with his older brother in a downtown apartment?"

"I don't know where it is, but yes, with his older brother," answered Pa.

"It sounds as if he could be..." I couldn't say it.

"Jen's friend Tim," said Carol. "I've known it. I never mentioned it, because I didn't want to poison our friendships."

"At least we know he didn't do it," I said. "The real killer was arrested the day before Peter and I first went to Bikini Beach. When Peter became Ruth, Peter's arrest and the DNA testing that acquitted Peter and got the real killer were wiped out, and Tim was next in line after Peter for whatever motivated those cops."

"Excuse me," said Ma. I glanced over at her, and saw her trying to hold in her tears as she got up and left the room.

"Oh, oh, oh!" I said, distressed with guilt.

"I wish you hadn't discussed that in Ma's presence," said Pa.

"Oh, I know. I know." I was about to cry myself. I moved the plate out of the way, and lowered my head into my arms. Carol pulled herself against me, and both Daisy and Ruth came around and squeezed in to hug me. "I think Ma needs the comforting," I said.

"Your Pa's gone to do it," murmured Carol next to me.

We didn't do much of anything that evening. I practiced a little piano and clarinet. Carol had to go home, but before she left, we talked with Pa about my going to Bikini Beach the next day. I didn't say anything about that "very pretty, young teenage girl." Things were too serious.

Pa was very sympathetic, but overall, very much avoiding a stern tone, he reiterated the prohibition against Bikini Beach. "Even though Grandmother and -- what was her name?"

"Anya," I answered, quite sure who he was referring to.

"Yes, Anya. They seem like very reasonable persons, but we still don't know what they might do with our minds. Sorry, Luke."

Carol then asked if I would be disappointed if she went to Bikini Beach to join the other girls, instead of staying with me. "No, not at all," I lied. Fortunately, I promptly came up with an excuse that made me feel all the better. "I don't want to lose them. You can keep me connected with them, when I can't see them."

I walked her out to the bus stop, reaching it when the bus was still visible several blocks away. We made out until the bus stopped and she boarded. Then I returned home.

I practiced a little more piano, and then Ruth accosted me and showed me an algebra problem. "Luke, do you think this is right? Or did I merely do gibberish?"

I couldn't really tell from looking it over. It was always easier for me to do a problem myself, than to read and go over someone else's work. "I don't know. Give me the problem itself, and see if I can do it. That's easier for me.

She gave me the problem, and I went to the kitchen table to do it. It was actually rather straight-forward, although it took me a little time. I eventually got the same answer as Ruth, and saw that Ruth did pretty much the same as me.

"Looks like you did it right -- or roughly the way I did it," I told her.

"Good," she said. "It looks like I have at least some of Peter's skills back. I didn't just do random gibberish here."

Daisy, who'd been sitting in silence, glanced at the papers, and said. "I don't understand a bit of this."

"Well," I said. "The basic idea is that we would like to find out what a number is. We don't know what it is, but if we call it a letter, then we can write down equations using it. We solve the equations for the letter.

"Here's a problem. A class has 25 students. There are five more girls than boys. How many boys and girls are there?"

"You mean, like ten boys and fifteen girls?" Daisy asked.

"Yeah, very good, Daisy! That was fast!" I said. "We have a procedure to follow, for when we encounter much harder problems. For this problem, we might let G equal the number of girls, and B equal the number of boys." I wrote the problem down, and an abbreviation for the definitions of B and G. "We know these two facts: B+G=25, and G=B+5." I wrote them down.

"Then we substitute for G its expression and get: B+B+5=25. We subtract 5 from both sides of the equation and get 2B=20. Divide both sides of the equation by 2, and get B=10. So we have 10 boys. Substitute that number into G=B+5, and we get 15 girls."

Ruth said, "I remember, we were allowed to solve the problem in our head, like you did, Daisy. But we had to show that the conditions of the problem were satisfied. Like, fifteen is five more than ten, or 15=10+5, and also 15+10=25. Sometimes, there might be a second solution. The procedure allows us to conclude that ten boys and fifteen girls is the only solution. Uniqueness, they call it."

"This is tough," Daisy said. "Hard."

"Ah, well," said Ruth. "You don't have to do anything like this for another few years."

"I took algebra last year, in eighth grade," I said. "Funny, when I was Lucy, I didn't remember taking algebra. I thought I'd taken different classes."

"Bikini Beach does that to you," Ruth said.

Eventually, it was Ruth's bedtime, and I went to bed at the same time.

Tuesday and Wednesday, July 22 and 23

I woke up the next morning. My first thought was, "Yay! It's Tuesday! Bikini Beach any my friends!" Then depression hit me as I remembered, no more Bikini Beach.

I got up and used the bathroom, then returned to bed and lay in bed awake for another hour.

Pa had already left for work by the time I got downstairs for breakfast. I saw no sign of Ruth and Daisy. As I made myself a breakfast of milk, orange juice, and cereal, Ma indicated the cassette player with the Mental Work, but didn't actually turn it on. I didn't want to hear it.

"I should call Mrs. King, and tell her not to come pick us up," I said to Ma, going over to the phone.

"I'll let you go to Bikini Beach if you want. We don't have to tell Pa."

"No, Ma. Pa prohibited us from going, for good reason. I have no reason to go against Pa. Anyway, he'd find out as soon as Lucy returned home."

I got to the phone, and managed to reach them before they left. As soon as I identified myself as Luke, Mrs. King called for Vanessa.

"Hey, Luke! What's up?"

"Pa has forbidden us from going to Bikini Beach."

"He doesn't like you being Lucy? Or he doesn't like the Bikini part of Bikini Beach?" asked Vanessa.

"He's always tolerated the Bikini part, and my being Lucy merely embarrasses him now. What he's mad about, and firm about, is what Bikini Beach might do to our minds. He doesn't like it. He has absolutely forbidden us from going. He remembers everything now -- Ruth as Peter, the criminal case, the whole shebang."

Vanessa sighed audibly. "We'll miss you, Luke. And we'll miss Lucy, too." I heard Helen in the background, and Vanessa talking with her. "Helen will miss Ruth, too." More talk in the background. "She just asked about Daisy. I think she wants to see her again."

"Ruth and Daisy would be happy to see Helen as well. She's certainly welcome," I said.

We talked some more. I thought of mentioning that Tim had been let out of jail. However, I decided against it. Jen would no doubt tell them at Bikini Beach.

Eventually, we said our goodbyes, and hung up, me with a sigh. I was going to miss them. The day loomed empty and boring now.

I practiced a half-hour of piano and a half-hour of clarinet, then got out a book to read and settled down in the living room.

Ma was doing chores, and I was feeling guilty sitting about when she was working. When she started vacuuming the living room, I got up and went to her. "Ma, may I take over from you? You might want a little rest."

"Why thank you, Luke!" I took the vacuum cleaner and tried to vacuum the living room properly. Ma didn't sit down to relax, though. She found another thing to do while I vacuumed.

After the living room, I decided to vacuum the stairs, and then my bedroom. I had to neaten my room just a bit, in order to get everywhere. I didn't go in anyone else's bedroom or the bathroom. Instead I went to the stairs down to the basement, and then the basement playroom itself.

I came back upstairs, ready to put the vacuum cleaner away, when the front door opened and in stumbled a very tearful Carol, arms around Daisy and Ruth holding her tight on either side.

I left the vacuum cleaner and ran to Carol, who burst into tears as my arms went around her and she pressed against me. It seemed that any remaining jealousy Daisy had of Carol had disappeared.

What happened?

Carol started talking. "We've broken up!" she said in a burst of new tears. "Tim was freed from jail. Jen was so happy and excited. Then Alice came, furious that the suspect in her cousin's murder was released on bail.

"Vanessa took Jen's side, and Becky took Alice's," Carol said. "I was on Jen's side, of course, and I tried to explain that Tim was innocent of the murder. I mangled it, I know." She cried some more. "I don't know what I said wrong, but Jen and Vanessa turned against me as well! I finally ran off, left Bikini Beach, and came here."

We found a seat and sat down, with Carol on my lap.

"You were vacuuming, when I got here," said Carol.

"I'd just finished up," I said. "I've been feeling really sorry for Ma about everything Ma did for the family."

"That's very nice of you," said Carol. "Most guys don't notice. Or they're too lazy. Or they think it's all women's work."

"Sunday at Bikini Beach hit Ma hard. After she made the big Sunday Dinner for us."

We spent the rest of the afternoon together, doing various things. Carol stayed for dinner, and told Ma and Pa about what happened at Bikini Beach.

"I take it you want Luke to return to Bikini Beach Thursday?" said Pa.

"If that's okay with you," said Carol.

Pa pause a minute, obviously thinking. I thought of saying that he would see that "very pretty, young teenage girl" again, but decided against it. Now was not a time to joke, or to torment Pa.

He finally said, "Okay Luke, you may go."

"What about--" began Ruth.

"Yes?" said Pa.

"Nothing," she said, looking at Daisy, sounding depressed.

Ma came up with correct explanation. "Ruth wants to see her friends at Bikini Beach, but doesn't want to leave Daisy behind."

"I've managed. I play with other friends when Ruth isn't around," said Daisy. "However." She jumped up and ran to the phone. She came back a moment later and said, "Dad says I can go Thursday if Ruth and Luke go!"

"Yippee!" exclaimed Ruth, jumping up to hug Daisy.

This evening was more or less routine. Ma went to her Tuesday Firmlove meeting. Carol had to go home, Daisy stayed the night, and I practiced some on piano and clarinet.

Wednesday was routine, but quiet. We went to the Library and met Carol. I had Taekwondo and Ruth had ballet. We had church that evening.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 19

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.

Thursday, July 24

I awoke the next morning, both elated and scared. We were returning to Bikini Beach! What would I find there with the girls? I had no idea. Were Alice and Becky still mad at Jen and Vanessa? Were Jen and Vanessa still mad at Alice and Becky? Were they all still mad at Carol?

I got up just as Pa left for work. Ruth and Ma were already up, and apparently Ma and Pa had already listened to the Mental Work and the Lesson. Ma wasn't requiring Ruth and me to listen anymore, so I didn't.

We didn't expect Mrs. King to come pick us up, and she didn't at the usual time. Ma decided that she wanted to go as well. "Luke's help vacuuming the house saved me some time, and I could use the rest."

I took that girl's one-piece swimsuit with me, as I didn't want to wear a bikini there -- even if I had clothes to change to before coming home. Pa was nice enough to rescind is prohibition on Bikini Beach; I didn't want to go against Pa's dislike for bikinis. Also, I found the idea of getting into an argument in a bikini embarrassing, more so than in a one-piece. I hoped we wouldn't argue, but it might happen.

We arrived at Bikini Beach and got into the line for the booths. Ma and Ruth stayed with Daisy and me, even though they already had passes and could go directly to the turnstiles. I tried to tell them that I could buy the passes for Daisy and myself, but Ma wouldn't hear of it. Ruth wanted to stay with Daisy.

When we reached the booth, before Ma could speak, I quickly asked, "Miss, could we have Anya sell us our passes, please?"

Anya, a couple rows down, replied, "I'll be there as soon as I finish with this customer. I'll trade with you, Marta." It took a minute, and then Anya came over here. "Hello, Luke. Nice to see you again. Mrs. Cuttington and Ruth, I'm very sorry that we first met under unpleasant circumstances. I sincerely hope that you find this situation satisfactory."

"I'm happy to see you, too, Anya," I said. "We would like a one-day pass for myself, and one for Daisy here. Same as last Saturday. I don't think there are any memories to be restored, though. I would like to explain a couple things:

"Last Sunday, before we came here to meet you, Pa prohibited further visits to Bikini Beach, because of what it might do to our minds. Pa allowed me to come today because, well, I don't want to talk about it. Likewise, until today, Daisy's parents never allowed Daisy to visit Bikini Beach. You met her father, Mr. Matsumoto, Sunday."

I noticed Anya's reaction of recognition.

"Pa and Mr. Matsumoto are both trusting you, Grandmother, and Bikini Beach to treat us right and do nothing to affect our minds. I'm trusting you, too. I'll accept the same thing you mentioned last Saturday," I added to avoid bringing up the issue. "It's okay to change my bedroom and my other things for the day."

"We'll keep that trust," said Anya. "There's something else, though, a danger for you. If you transform too often, you'll get transformation shock. If you continue coming to Bikini Beach as you've been coming before, you really should get longer memberships. I'd recommend two weeks as a minimum. They're cheaper than the number of single-day memberships you would buy."

"If Pa continues to allow me to visit Bikini Beach, I'll consider it. Vanessa mentioned transformation shock, saying that's why she was always getting two-week memberships until last week. I had no idea then, the danger I was in. Ma probably knew nothing about it too. But now, only a day-pass please."

Anya rang it up, and gave one for me and one for Daisy.

As we walked toward the changing rooms, Ma said, "I'm proud of you, Luke. You've come a long way from the shy boy you were when you first came here."

"The conference made the difference. I came a long way since last Thursday and Saturday, when I was in a panic over being transformed and possibly forgetting and falsely remembering things. Ma, you weren't happy about forgetting things, yourself."

"No, I wasn't," she agreed.

I decided against bringing up her own orders that I not remember my own transformation or anyone else's. I decided not to mention "poetic justice." Instead, we were about to pass the men's changing room, so I said, "Here's the men's changing room -- a lame pun. I'll see you later on the other side. If you recognize me."

I showered and put on the girl's one-piece swimsuit, which had shrunk to fit my new size. Again, the narrow strip covering my crotch felt almost as if I were perpetually masturbating, and I tried to push it as much away as I could. Think about something else -- definitely not that my legs were completely bare. I noticed that my shirt and pants had again turned into one of those innocent, wholesome, yet hot dresses, this time one with two shades of red. Short sleeves, tight elastic about my waist, and extending down just above the knees. I sighed, wishing that they could have remained jeans and tee-shirt, even if they had to shrink to fit my new self.

Again, it took me a little while to work up the nerve, and calm down the stimulation, to go out into the park. I was also scared about what I might encounter with the girls.

Ma was outside waiting with -- surprise! Vanessa, Carol, Alice, and Jen! The four girls seemed rather somber, not excitedly talking with each other. Vanessa and Jen had arms around each other, of course. Carol quickly came forward and hugged me. "I'm so glad you came!" We stood embraced, even as Ma spoke up.

Ma said, "You took quite a while inside, Lucy. We were getting concerned."

"Um," I blushed, not knowing what to say. I simply couldn't tell her about the narrow strip of material stimulating my vacant crotch. "I had to work through certain things."

"You know, Lucy, you can talk to me about anything. I've told you before."

"Ma, please. I'm Luke in here. There are some things I just can't talk to you -- or Pa -- about." I blushed again. Standing in front of Ma in a girl's swimsuit, embracing Carol in a bikini, my head against her breasts, was hard enough.

"Well, if you can't talk to me, maybe you can talk to your girlfriends. They'll help." My girlfriends, yeah.

They all came up. "Let us have a turn, Carol," said Jen. Carol backed away as Jen hugged me, followed by Alice.

"Are you okay," I whispered in Alice's ear.

"Yeah, mostly," she whispered back.

Then Vanessa came. As she hugged me, she bent down to whisper in my ear, "Carol told you what happened, I assume. Please, let's not say anything at all about the topic. Things are really fragile among us right now."

"Okay," I whispered back. "Is Becky coming?"

"I hope so," Vanessa answered, and we pulled apart.

"There she is!" I said out loud. Becky was coming toward us, also looking rather somber and unsure. This was the most serious I'd ever seen her. Normally, she'd be running to jump in on us. "Becky!" I shouted.

I decided that courage was critical, and ran to her and hugged her. "You came!"

We played and swam together -- and went to gymnastics together late in the morning. Things were almost like before. Once in a while, I wondered how things were for Daisy. Then I decided she was having the time of her life.

We met back up with our families at the Tiki Hut for lunch: Ma, Ruth, and Daisy; Mrs. King and Helen; and Nancy and Cindy. After lunch, I wanted another nice brother-sister -- or in this case sister-sister -- hour or two with Ruth.

It turned out more than just Ruth and me. Daisy joined us, and she wanted Helen and another girl named Greta as well. We went around and enjoyed ourselves for the next hour or so.

By accident, we caught up with the rest of my girlfriends at the Lagoon -- and they were all arguing and shouting at each other. I briefly caught Alice shouting, "Murderer's lover!" at Jen.

"Guys," I said. Nobody heard me, so I shouted, "Guys!" I was still ignored, so finally I took a deep breath, tried to produce a Luke voice, and shouted louder than I'd ever shouted before. "SHUT the FUCK up, ALL of you!"

Everyone around us froze. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Daisy looking at me in shock.

"It sounds like you're quarreling about the forbidden subject," I said. "Now, let's put it aside. Group hug, everyone." This was the first time I ever attempted any kind of leadership with the girls.

"I'm not going to hug any friend of my cousin's murderer!" exclaimed Alice.

Everyone shouted again at each other, and at me. I couldn't make out most of the words. Somewhere I heard this exchange: "Tim was innocent!" "My cousin was innocent, too!" So much for my attempted leadership. But I couldn't just let it go.

"Grandmother!" I shouted, just to get their attention. The prior shut-up command wouldn't work again, I knew; it depended on surprise. "Grandmother!" I shouted even louder.

My command didn't penetrate their quarreling, but it did have an unexpected effect. "Silence!" came a thunderous command, accompanied by thunder and lightning -- even though not a cloud was in the sky.

Everyone shut up, including me. Grandmother herself appeared, from where I couldn't tell. As far as I knew, she didn't flash into appearance in a puff of smoke. I simply looked around, and there she was.

"Young ladies," Grandmother approached us. "I am aware of the subject of your quarrel. Young Anderson's release on bail while they conduct DNA testing was my doing."

"Grandmother, you of all people!? Jill was my cousin and my best friend!" Alice burst into tears and ran off.

"How could you, Grandmother?" Becky ran off after Alice.

"Hah. Good riddance. We don't need them anyway," said Vanessa roughly, and then burst into tears, collapsed, and rolled face-down. Jen went to comfort her. Carol and I followed. I was also in tears.

"I know you didn't mean that," I said.

"Grandmother?" said Jen shyly. "Couldn't you have, perhaps, made Alice accept that Tim was innocent?"

Grandmother sighed. "That would have been wrong. Mr. Matsumoto was so right..."

"Who?" asked Jen.

"Never mind. Someone who has complaints about my work and my methods," answered Grandmother. "I so wish I had told the story first, before stating the end. I visited Tim in jail Sunday afternoon and determined that, yes, Tim really was innocent of the crime, and he was having a horrible time in jail. I got him released on bail Monday, letting the DNA testing progress on its own to establish his innocence.

"The worst part of it is that he wasn't even a suspect AND they had the real murderer in custody, before we transformed the original suspect, also innocent, and shifted reality around."

"That was me," said Ruth.

"I'll let Ruth and Lucy tell their story if they wish," said Grandmother, "while I return to work."

"Grandmother, is there any way we can persuade Becky and Alice?" I asked.

"I don't think so. I have much more sympathy for Alice than I did for Mrs. Winstead, because Jill was Alice's cousin. And Becky has unfortunately let her fear and distress for Alice blind her. You might have more success when the DNA results come, or when Becky reverts to Bruce. I'm so very sorry. Sorry about everything... especially for you, Ruth. I realize I never apologized last Sunday. I'm sorry."

"That's okay, Grandmother," Ruth answered. "Your acts were apology enough."

"Well, I guess I'd better get back to work," Grandmother said.

I'd glanced over at Ruth for a moment, and when I looked back, Grandmother was gone.

"Um, where did Grandmother go?" asked Jen.

"She took a short cut back to the offices," answered Vanessa. "That's all I can guess."

"So what do we do about Becky and Alice?" asked Carol.

"We wait," said Vanessa. "Patience. DNA testing will establish Tim's innocence, and then we can get back to them."

"While DNA testing will prove his innocence, I'm not sure it will get through to them," said Ruth. "I have my own experience with Ma and Mrs. Winstead, who had me changed to this little girl you see here AFTER I was exonerated by DNA testing."

We stayed together, including Ruth, Daisy, Helen, and Greta. We had to check in with Ma and Mrs. King at one point, to let them know they were still with us. Even though we went through the motions, we weren't very happy. The slides and water rides were no longer fun. The best parts were when we lounged and relaxed, with Jen sitting on Vanessa's lap, Carol and me next to each other with Ruth and Daisy on our laps, and Greta and Helen on each other's lap.

We finally went home early. Daisy, Ruth, and I had to go find Ma and tell her that we wanted to go home. Jen, Helen, and Greta went with Vanessa, of course. Carol had to run off to tell Nancy that she'd be going home with us. "Please wait for me; I'll try to find you at the women's changing room."

"Lucy's friends somehow stumbled onto the forbidden topic, and Alice and Becky ran off," Ruth told Ma when we found her. "We arrived in the middle of their quarrel, and Lucy and Grandmother both tried to settle things. Not even Grandmother could persuade Becky and Alice. We want to go home."

Again, I returned to the men's changing room to change. I looked at myself in the mirror in that dress. I looked utterly innocent, wholesome, even childlike. Yet Luke in me was already getting a crush on myself in the mirror. "Luke," I told my inner self. "You already have Carol and Daisy. And Ruth. And Vanessa, Jen, Alice, and Becky. That's seven, the Biblical magic number." Alice and Becky, I hoped. Oh how I hoped. I decided to tell myself that only Good is real, and that friendship can never be lost.

I did my best to keep optimistic about it. I realized that my nerves about Ma seeing me in this pretty dress -- even though she saw me in a swimsuit; even though she saw me as Lucy many times before -- were minor. Likewise, my nerves at Pa seeing that `very pretty young teenage girl' in a pretty dress again were insignificant.

I met Ma, Ruth, Daisy, and Carol and her friends outside the women's changing room. Fortunately, nobody reacted to me and my dress.

Pa was still at work when we got home. Ruth and Daisy got a bunch of their friends to come over, and Carol and I joined them for a game of kickball in the front yard. I thought of changing into knee-length shorts and tee-shirt, but decided that it was probably too close to dinner, and as Lucy I would have to change back. I admit to feeling a perverse excitement when the wind occasionally blew my dress up and distracted the boys in the group from their play -- especially the opposing team, causing them to strike and go out needlessly.

One of the boys called out, "I see England; I see France. I see Lucy's underpants!" Enjoy the view, little boy, I told myself. You won't have much opportunity.

Eventually, Pa's car drove up and into the garage, which meant it was almost dinner time. We broke up, and everyone returned home.

It was with trepidation that I followed Ruth, Daisy, and Carol into the house to meet Pa. Well, at least I had their support. This would be the first time Pa would meet me as Lucy, remembering both Lucy and Luke from before.

We entered the same time as Pa entered from the garage. "Hi, girls," Pa greeted us. He then did a double-take, blushed, and said, "Oh right. That's you, Luke."

"And Ruth is Peter, you know," Daisy added.

"Strangely enough," Pa sat down with a sigh. "That's easier to take, than Luke as Lucy. I really can't say why."

I sat in one of the chairs, and Carol planted herself on the armrest next to me.

"Perhaps because I've been purely Ruth for a month now -- that's all? Just a month?" said Ruth. "Seems so much longer. Or maybe it's just that Luke is that `very pretty young teenage girl'?"

I couldn't help chuckling at that.

"That's part of it, definitely. Seeing Lucy sitting there comfortably in a nice dress, with her legs crossed demurely, and knowing and remembering that that's Luke in there..." Pa trailed off, and I blushed at the image I realized I made. I'd crossed my legs without even thinking about it. "Before, it was either always Luke, or Lucy was always my daughter. Now, it's different. I really want to push aside the attraction, and have a good talk with Luke as Lucy. This might be a rare opportunity." He paused, and then turned to Ruth and said as an afterthought. "I really haven't yet availed myself of the opportunity to talk to Ruth as Peter. It appears that Ruth is here to stay, and Peter will most unfortunately become a vanishing memory."

I turned at a sob from Daisy; she was holding onto Ruth now. "I agree, it's sad," I said.

"Please, everyone, don't cry over me!" said Ruth. "Lucy's more interesting to talk about, anyway." I joined everyone's chuckles, even though for me they were chuckles of embarrassment. "Today is the first I saw of her since my memories were restored Sunday."

"We already had one very pretty girl visiting, either as Lucy's friend or Luke's ... friend," Pa said. Now, Carol was clearly embarrassed. "Not just pretty; friendly and helpful, too."

"I certainly agree about Carol; Luke got a wonderful girlfriend," said Ruth. "I speak both as Ruth, and back to Peter's perspective. Heck, if I were Peter and Luke or Lucy had brought Carol home..." she trailed off. "Getting to really know her would have made the temptation all the worse."

"Now seeing two pretty girls, it gets almost unbearable, especially knowing that one of them is my son Luke."

"I probably shouldn't play armchair psychologist," Carol said, shifting her position on the arm of the chair. "But I get the impression, Mr. Cuttington, that your famous dislike of girls in bikinis comes from being surrounded by pretty girls, completely untouchable, feeling utterly powerless, and having to force hard to keep your mind out of forbidden territory. Like being surrounded by a humongous feast that you mustn't even sample.

"That's probably very close to the truth," said Ma, who I only just noticed standing next to the entry to the kitchen. "A number of times, many years ago, I had to physically grab his head and turn it toward me, when we out together." By now, Pa was blushing again. "Dan, I hope you realize that none of society's problems today have anything to do with girls and young ladies in skimpy dress. We have other things to worry about, besides Ruth and Lucy possibly wearing bikinis."

Our talk, which continued over dinner, got rather intimate and rather embarrassing for all of us -- especially Pa and me. I think Daisy got a bit of an education in subjects a bit too mature for her age. Ruth being Peter, of course already had full exposure to more explicit subjects -- I recalled Ruth seriously nauseating me with her knowledge of "Forbidden Flowers." I was actually afraid, the way the talk became confessional and emotional, that someone might actually bring up that book. Fortunately, nobody did.

We even admitted that, no matter which form I was in, Carol was my girlfriend in *that* sense. "I never knew I had any bisexual tendencies," said Carol. "But I'm definitely lesbian for Lucy."

We all agreed to allow Pa to look and enjoy the girls more openly, "As long as it doesn't get overtly lecherous," said Ma. I asked the same about me -- looking at girls or guys, according to my form. Ma said, "That depends very much on Carol's desires. Don't betray Carol in any way."

"I am okay with it somewhat," said Carol. "After all, he is a teenage boy..." She didn't continue.

Thanks to the conversation, I temporarily forgot the issue with Alice and Becky, Tim being released, being innocent, and eventually proven innocent. After dinner, when we separated from Ma and Pa, I expressed my guilt at having forgotten.

Ruth assuaged my guilt. "Lucy, we can't do anything about it now. Vanessa was right; we have to wait. When Tim is proven innocent, or better when the actual killer is caught, then we can deal with Alice and Becky." She hugged me while saying it.

Friday, July 25

I woke up as Luke Friday morning, distressed again over the girls' quarrel. I tried to take Vanessa's advice, and Ruth's advice from last night, to heart. We could only wait. I also blushed at the memory of the heart-to-heart conversation we had over dinner, with Pa seeing me as Lucy and remembering everything.

I noticed that unlike earlier times, but like last Sunday, there was no pretense that I as a boy had done anything at Bikini Beach -- in particular, gymnastics. I wasn't sore or anything from all the moves that were effortless for Lucy but darn near impossible for Luke. The little tanning I got yesterday didn't carry over.

Friday was a usual day, although more somber. Daisy, Ruth, and I went to the library and met Carol. Ruth had piano lessons with Mrs. Prudence and I had clarinet lessons with Mr. Oregon -- thank goodness, he had no memory or idea of my crush on him as Lucy. Memory of that crush was almost as embarrassing as the memory of Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe. Then I had TKD and Ruth had ballet. I sort-of wished I could do ballet as well, but I knew full well that my body wasn't up to it.

Again, that afternoon, we played a full six innings of kickball with Ruth and Daisy's friends, including that boy who'd voiced Lucy's inadvertent panty displays. In fact, I overheard him asking Ruth about that girl Lucy.

"She's unavailable," said Ruth. She refused to say anything else, and none of us chose to enlighten him further.

It was pretty much a given that we wouldn't go to Bikini Beach on Saturday. Carol said she'd definitely come over, and mentioned the possibility of sleeping over that night. That notion left me excited; it seemed so forbidden. She even called home to ask, when Ma and Pa were out of hearing. Her parents' no was totally expected, at least on my part.

"I'm sure they would have allowed it for Lucy," she said.

"I'm not so sure, if they knew that Lucy was in fact Luke inside, and remembered everything," I replied. "In any case, Ma and Pa would probably not allow it either."

So Carol returned home, and promised to return the next day.

Saturday, July 26

The next morning, I called Vanessa's home, and spoke with Mrs. King. "Carol and I aren't going to Bikini Beach today. I was wondering if Vanessa and Jen might like to come visit, or do something with us."

"Vanessa and Jen are already out, doing their own thing," Mrs. King replied. "I'm sorry; they left only fifteen minutes ago. I think they would have joined you, if you'd called in time."

"Thanks," I sighed. "What about Helen? Would she like to come visit, perhaps with Greta? Ruth and Daisy would like to see them again."

"That's a nice invitation. But they're going to Bikini Beach again. They didn't have the bad experience with their friends, the way your group did."

Oh, well. It was pretty much Carol, Ruth, Daisy, and me that day. I did get some clarinet and piano practice in before Carol arrived. And we did play some with Ruth and Daisy's young friends that afternoon.

Sunday, July 27

Sunday was not a routine Sunday School and Church day. It only began routinely with the boring hour of Sunday School. I noticed that Beth, in Ruth's class, didn't look very well.

After Sunday School, when Beth's grandpa arrived, Ruth dragged me over to him. "I need your support. You don't have to actually say anything," said Ruth. "I also need you as a witness."

"Sir," Ruth began, when we caught up with the Grandpa.

"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 brother Luke. Beth is seriously ill. She's been getting worse the past weeks."

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

"Either verify that Christian Science healing is working, or put her back on the medicine. I suspect it is--" at that point, I didn't pick up any of the words. Ruth (or Peter in Ruth) was using vocabulary hopelessly beyond me. But I did catch the end: "... a virtual death sentence."

"Young lady," 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. In fact, your observation, your worry, may be what's contributing to any lack of success of the Christian Science work. It's a form of mental malpractice."

Just then, Ma spoke. I hadn't noticed her approach. "Ruth, you know you are not supposed to question or challenge your elders. Especially not the elderly."

"And look what that got me, Ma. This is deadly serious; Beth's life is in danger."

"Mrs. Cuttington," said Grandpa. "Ruth's presence in Sunday School, with her preoccupation over Beth's sickness, may be what's holding back Beth's improvement. I ask that she not be brought to Sunday School or Church until Beth's healing is fully accomplished."

"Okay, 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, Luke. 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."

I just said, "Okay," knowing perfectly well I wouldn't. After all, it didn't seem as though CS had anything to do with our restoration of memories of Peter and the correct memories of myself as Luke or Lucy. Of course, it was possible that God worked in convoluted ways, but how could I know that He did? I was getting almost as skeptical about CS as Peter was."

Ma didn't return. It was just Pa and I at church today. I tried to avoid dozing off. I noticed that Pa was dozing off some times as well, though.

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 and Ruth talking 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..." Pa trailed off.

"Well, she is seventeen-year-old Peter inside," I said. "And I couldn't understand what she said. It was Peter talking then."

"Yes, but there's no way Beth's Grandpa could have known that. Mrs. P-- said that girls Ruth's age are much too young for instruction in mental malpractice and animal magnetism. So accusing Ruth of malpractice is almost malicious in itself. I just don't know."

We didn't say much more, the rest of the way home. We were both lost in our own thoughts -- or at least I was.

At home, Ma had readied Sunday Dinner. Ruth ate with us, but then Ma sent her back to her room. I went with her, and she handed me a letter. "Beth gave me her home address. But her parents went on a summer-long cruise. That's why she's spending the summer with her Grandpa. I'm really concerned this won't get to them in time. But mail it anyway. It needs a stamp," she added unnecessarily.

Pa caught both of us as we spoke. "Ruth, did she say anything about where the cruise was going? What cruise line? Anything we might find out?"

"Unfortunately not. Just that it was a cruise around the world," answered Ruth.

"I see that her home address is in New York City. This may help. Luke and I can search for information on the cruises. I don't want Ma to find out what we're up to just yet, so stay in your room for now. Okay?"

"Sure, Pa," answered Ruth.

Pa and I went back downstairs. I stamped the letter. "Get that letter out," said Pa. "Better deposit it in the mailbox down the street, rather than our own box. I don't really expect Ma to interfere with the letter, but we do want to make sure it gets mailed."

There was a street-side mailbox a couple blocks down the street. I walked the distance, deposited the letter, and then returned. Pa was in his office, but then came out.

"I was on the computer, and I found information about the cruises from New York City. I think I managed to narrow it down to one cruise that left a little less than a month ago. At some point, I should let you in the office and learn about computers and the internet." Oh, my! He'd actually do that? "Anyway, I got a contact number for the cruise. Hopefully, we can reach Beth's parents, and get a message to them. Let's call from the office."

Wow! I was actually being allowed into his office! We had Beth's parents' names from the letter address. Pa dialed. He eventually reached a live person, and spoke. "Hello, I have a message for Mr. and Mrs. Rochester, who may be passengers on this cruise. All I know for sure is that they went on a cruise around the world, and they probably departed from New York City. It concerns their daughter, Beth, nine years old, who is staying with her Grandpa."

Someone spoke on the other end, and then Pa answered, "I am Daniel Cuttington, a member of the church her Grandpa attends. Beth herself has been coming to Sunday School while she's here."

More talk from the other end.

"Okay, here's the message. Her Grandpa gave a testimonial a few weeks ago, telling us that he has taken Beth off her daily medicine. The idea is to use Christian Science to heal her. My children have reported that Beth appears to be seriously sick now."

"Ruth thinks that it's something fatal," I said. "I couldn't understand Ruth's words." Pa repeated our concern that it might be fatal.

There was more talk from the other end. Pa gave them our address and phone number, and I heard more talk, apparently promising to get the message to the parents if possible.

"Thank you very much. I most sincerely hope it gets to the parents. Have a good day. Good bye." Pa hung up the phone.

"Well, Luke, hopefully, the message will get to them today. I think we've done all we can do right now. Except pray and know that we do the right thing."

We left the office, and Pa went back upstairs to Ruth's room. Pa and Ruth returned downstairs, Ruth having changed out of her Sunday dress into tee-shirt and shorts.

"Both of you, go out and play, or do something outside. This is going to be strictly between your Ma and me. I'm countermanding Ma's order sending you to your room, Ruth."

"I have to change clothes, first," I said.

"Go ahead. I'll wait," said Pa.

I went upstairs to change into tee-shirt and shorts.

When I got back down, Ruth asked, "Pa, may we go to the library?"

"Yes you may," said Pa. "Be home by five."

"That shouldn't be a problem," I said, as we went outside. I took her hand, as we headed off toward the library.

On the way, Ruth said, "Daisy found the book Carol was reading, `Forbidden Flowers.'"

"Oh?" I blushed, remembering Ruth and "Forbidden Flowers" from way back when.

"Yeah. She found it quite, um, interesting. We read some of it together. I really hope we haven't seriously corrupted her."

"Could she actually be hurt by it? Endangered?" I asked.

"Doubtful. But we like to think of nine-year-old girls as innocent. Even when they're not. You got really sick that time a month ago, when we met over `Forbidden Flowers'."

"That was Peter speaking, I realize that now," I said. "Although I never knew that Peter read it. I think I would have been guilty and embarrassed had Peter caught me reading it as well. I was definitely more fearful of Peter catching me, than Ruth, way back then. On the other hand," I was changing the subject. "That can't be Peter in you holding my hand like this."

Ruth giggled. "No, it's not. Some thinking has still changed in me as Ruth. And it's Ruth that sees you as a combination of lovable and loving big brother and hot handsome guy. And Peter in me is seeing you in a new light, very different from before."

When we got to the library, I wondered if we were going to go for `Forbidden Flowers' again. But nobody mentioned it, and I decided to go for the young-adult science fiction section instead. I found a book called, "So You Want to be a Wizard."

"That's a good book," said Ruth. "Although, if I recall correctly, the author has no concept of what an equation is. I seriously cringed at certain scenes of wizardry."

We stayed until the library closed, and then went home, getting home well before Pa's deadline of five. Ma was still preparing a light Sunday supper snack, and had nothing to say about Ruth being out of her room. Daisy was there as well.

We were in the middle of eating when the phone rang.

"That's got to be the cruise," I said. "I hope they got the message to Beth's parents."

"I hope so, too," said Pa, as he answered the phone. "It's for you, Luke. A girl, Vanessa. Something sounds very wrong."

Oh? "She's one of my Bikini Beach friends." What was going on? I wondered as I got up to take the call.

"Hi, Vanessa. What's up?"

"Luke?" Vanessa was crying. "Tim's been murdered."

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 20
Disaster

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 Evening, July 27

"Luke?" Vanessa was crying over the phone. "Tim's been murdered. Jen's out of her mind with grief. I'm with her now, but she needs all her friends. Please come."

"Ma, Pa," I lowered the phone, about to cry again. "Tim Anderson, the person released on bail in Jill's murder, he's been murdered. Jen, she's one of the girls, was his friend, and she needs all of us. I have to go." I was babbling in my own grief and confusion.

Ma, standing over a counter, was crying in distress. "It's all my fault!" Ma repeated. Then she said, "Luke, please go. Go help your friends. Please!"

"Ma's ordering me to go," I told Vanessa. "If I can get there, I will. But someone has to take me. Pa can't leave Ma. She's crying majorly."

"Mom'll get you," said Vanessa. "Ten minutes, she says."

Ruth, Daisy, and I hovered in the background, as Ma cried her eyes out, and Pa leaned over her, murmuring things I couldn't make out. Ma kept saying, "It's all my fault. It's all my fault."

I was relieved when the doorbell finally rang. It was Mrs. King, Vanessa's mom. "How are they?" I asked, as we dashed to her car.

"Everyone's distressed," she replied simply, saying nothing further as she drove off like a maniac.

We arrived in due time, ran up to the door and rang the bell. Mr. Lam, Jen's father, whom I'd never met, answered. "Come in, Mrs. King. And you must be Luke. Upstairs, both of you."

I followed Mrs. King up to Jen's room, scared of what I'd find.

The first thing I noticed upon entering the room was the distinct odor of vomit. Jen was in bed, not crying but frozen in the most sickening expression of shock I'd ever seen. She'd obviously been crying earlier.

Alice, Vanessa, Carol, and Jen's mom were all sitting on the bed next to her. Alice was leaning over her, crying, "I'm so very sorry!"

I had no idea what to say or do. I leaned over and tried to hug her, getting no response. "It's me, Luke." Jen's dad and Mrs. King remained in the background until the doorbell rang and Mr. Lam went to answer it.

Becky arrived, looking utterly devastated. "Alice, Jen! I'm so very sorry! I can't believe what happened. Tracy, my brother, was arrested today for Jill's murder. His DNA apparently matched the murderer's." She collapsed onto the foot of the bed in a new burst of tears.

Alice stared at Becky for a couple seconds, then burst into tears and collapsed on Jen. "Oh, Jen, Jen, Jen! Everything I said, everything I thought all this time, everything I believed about Jill's murder has been totally wrong."

I had to do something. I tried to hug Becky. She said through her tears, "That must be why I was suddenly sent to Aunt Yuko's for the summer. To get me out of the way, to keep me ignorant. My parents knew about Tracy."

Jen came out of her shock, and noticed the grief of Alice and Becky. We all got into a group hug.

There's no great loss without some small gain. We were all friends again, and nobody and nothing would tear us apart ever again.

We stayed until quite late, but eventually we separated and returned to our respective homes. Vanessa may have stayed for the night with Jen.

It took me forever to get to sleep. I kept thinking about the horror of what it's like to be murdered like Jill and Tim, the horror of being falsely accused like Peter and Tim. Perhaps Becky's brother was going to undergo a horror similar to Peter and Tim. Maybe he deserved it as the actual murderer. But with the DNA match, they didn't need his confession.

Monday, July 28

I woke up again crying about the girls' situation. Alice's cousin murdered. Jen's friend Tim framed for the murder, released on bail, then murdered himself. Becky learning that her brother Tracy was the murderer. And Ruth having been framed as Peter for the murder. I had all these memories of life with big brother Peter as well as baby sister Ruth.

I stayed in bed for the longest time, remembering and crying, then finally got up, got dressed, and went downstairs for breakfast. Ruth was already up, and she jumped up and hugged me, crying. "I'm so sorry about what happened!" Ma was apparently still in bed, refusing to get up.

"I'm taking the day off of work," said Pa. "Ma needs me here. I'm very sorry about what happened as well." He reheated my breakfast, and turned on the Mental Work. This was the first time in a number of days that I'd listened to the Mental Work. I felt strangely comforted by Great-Grandma's firm-sounding voice. Then after I finished eating, Pa insisted that he and I record the new Lesson-sermon for the week. "This is all the more important for the situation we are in. Luke, right now you are the only one who can record it with me."

Mr. Matsumoto stormed over here in the middle of our recording. "Tim Anderson's defense attorney called me, and informed me that he'd called the police and urged them to investigate Anderson's murder. Apparently, the officer who spoke with him said that justice had been done, the way it should have been done originally. The officer furthermore called him scum who got murderers and other criminals off scott-free, and apparently slammed the phone down before the attorney could point out that the murderer was a different person. The attorney's working to get the identity of the officer.

"Television commentators have been saying the same thing," he continued. "Even though a different person has actually been identified and arrested based on the DNA evidence. This is a new low for them, but unfortunately, since Tim has been murdered, there is no longer any defamation case against them. They're stupid; they're shameless. And we can't do a damn thing about it.

"The prosecutor, at least, sounded rational. He promised full investigation of Tim Anderson's murder, and denounced vigilante justice precisely because it goes after the wrong person. I mentioned the defense attorney's encounter with the police officer, and said that there was at least a faction in the police force who apparently favored vigilante justice, and who might have acted accordingly."

He departed shortly after, and we finished recording the lesson. I went back up and lay in bed, dozing off and on, crying off and on, fuming in anger off and on, until it was time to don my TKD uniform and go off to piano lesson.

My mood, the recent events, and my lack of practice the previous couple of days led to one of my worst piano lessons ever. I'd completely forgotten both pieces I was supposed to have memorized, and was scolded just about every other minute to the point that I was thinking of getting up and walking out. I didn't, though; I was too much of a coward.

Mrs. Prudence said something at the end of the lesson that surprised me. "Everyone has an occasional bad lesson or rehearsal. Did you have a bad week or something?"

"Absolutely. A dear friend of a friend of mine was murdered yesterday. After being cleared and released from a false murder accusation." I knew he was cleared, because of Becky's brother's arrest for the murder.

Mrs. Prudence said, "The case in the news? Oh my!"

"That's only part of it. Another friend's older brother was arrested for the murder, and he apparently did it. His DNA matched the murderer's. That's sufficiently unbelievable as it is, and you just won't believe the rest of it. But yes, a very bad week. And this lesson... well..." I didn't have a real sense of what I wanted to say, and was too much of a coward to say it anyway.

I packed up my piano books, and went out -- only to encounter outside the entire gang from Bikini Beach! Vanessa, Jen, Alice, Becky, and Carol, all arm-in-arm. "Guys!" I exclaimed, hugging them all. Vanessa had to briefly let go of Jen to hug me. Carol gave me a wonderful long kiss, and whispered in my ear, "I love you." By now, I was blushing but very happy, seeing them all.

"We still needed to be together," Vanessa explained. "Jen and Becky need the support, Alice needs it, and we think you do too. Jen needed to get out of the house." I'd mentioned Ma's breakdown of guilt and grief.

I joined them, sandwiched between Becky and Carol, and we all went to the mall for my Taekwondo class. Unlike my piano lesson, the TKD class went fine, which was fortunate because the girls were watching me. The exercise let me forget my problems for the moment.

Then we all went together to pick up Ruth at ballet. "My goodness!" she exclaimed upon emerging from the studio in her leotard and tights. "You all came with Luke, to pick me up! Carol!" she hugged her hard, and then me. "Luke! Hey Vanessa!"

I didn't want to let go of Carol or Becky, but I also wanted to hold onto Ruth. I resolved that conundrum by lifting Ruth up -- "Luke, what are you doing?" -- and sitting her on my shoulders, her legs on either side of my head -- the way Pa sometimes carried me when I was little. Oof, she was heavy! "You okay?" I asked, as I returned my arms around Carol and Becky.

"I'm fine, Luke. Just remember, if I fall, you're going down with me." She clenched her muscular legs hard about my head and shoulders to emphasize the point.

We started off home.

Ruth commented, "Pa carried me this way when I was just a toddler, and later carried Luke the same way. I never imagined I would be carried again this way, this time by my kid brother -- especially as a nine-year-old girl."

"It's hard keeping in mind that that's really you in there Peter," I said. "I'm so used to thinking of you as Ruth."

"When Pa took me to ballet today, he asked if I really wanted to go. Wouldn't I be embarrassed as Peter doing it? I told him I'd gotten over my embarrassment my first week as Ruth, and now I like the class. As Pa discovered the hard way, ballet complements Taekwondo nicely."

Carol said, "Ballet is supposed to be the ultimate humiliation for a manly man or boy, turned into a girl. That's probably why they do it so often. Humiliation is one tactic they use to control and convert you."

"Yaaaah," drawled Ruth. "I think that Ma and Bikini Beach meant it that way for me."

We walked some in silence, and then Ruth reached over and tapped Becky's shoulder and said, "You're Tracy's kid brother, Bruce, aren't you?"

Becky burst into tears. "Yes, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry about everything!"

"Please, please!" said Ruth. "I'm so very sorry for the situation you're in. I knew him a little in high school, and we got to talking with each other and becoming friends when we discovered that both of us would be going to Pacific Tech. I can't believe he'd do such a thing. And I also can't believe I would somehow be accused and blamed for the crime. It's not your fault, not in the least."

Becky was still crying, so I held her harder to me, hoping to comfort her. Alice leaned against her from her other side, and we wound up walking the rest of the way home pressed hard together, Becky sandwiched between the two of us.

By the time we got home, my shoulders were aching like crazy with the weight of Ruth. I crouched down, and she dismounted into a somersault, leaving me about to levitate into the air. I stood back up, awkward with dizziness, supported by Carol and Becky. Meanwhile, Ruth dashed inside, being the first as usual to shower.

As I entered, I couldn't see either Ma or Pa, so I called out, "Ma, Pa, I'm home. My friends came with me."

Pa called out from the distance, in their bedroom. "I can't come out, we have an emergency. Please make yourselves at home. I've called Mrs. P--, who's working for us." Mrs. P-- was our Christian Science Practitioner.

What was going on? I wondered, as I went into the kitchen to get soda and snacks for my friends. I screamed, my stomach heaved trying to vomit, and I almost fell from faintness -- at the blood in the kitchen.

My friends rushed in behind me, and suddenly there was chaos everywhere as everyone screamed, fainted. I felt myself being pulled back, and heard Vanessa shouting over the noise, "Everyone, back in the living room! NOW!" She was grabbing and yanking us all away. I only barely noticed now what I didn't notice first coming in, the blood spots leading from the kitchen to Ma and Pa's bedroom.

"Someone get a camera!" shouted Vanessa. "We need to photograph this before messing it all up; we may need it as evidence. Then we can find out what happened."

Pa came out, carrying a camera. "I'll do it, although it's really not necessary." He snapped a few pictures. "Ma tried to kill herself while I was taking Ruth to ballet class."

Oh my bloody cursed God! I was too much in shock to actually cry, but I felt like I was about to burst in tears. I pulled away from my friends trying to push me down into a chair. All the arguing about whether to call 911 or trust the Practitioner faded into the background. All I knew is that I had to do one thing.

I made my way to the telephone, found the number for Bikini Beach, and dialed. As soon as someone answered, "Bikini Beach, how may I help you?" I burst into tears and begged, "Please, let me speak with Anya or Grandmother. I'm Luke Cuttington. I was with--"

Grandmother's voice promptly came on the line. "Luke, I'm so sorry about young Anderson's murder and the arrest of your friend's older brother."

"Ma tried to kill herself! I don't know how bad. Please do something!"

"I'm so very sorry about your Ma," replied Grandmother. "We're going to do something. I can't tell you our plan, but things should be repaired."

"Thank you!" I dropped the phone and collapsed.

I wasn't totally out of it; I did barely notice being lifted and taken to the sofa. I also barely registered sirens in the background, but came suddenly alert when I realized they were stopping here.

Men entered, and went into Ma and Pa's bedroom. Something was happening in there; I heard soft talk. Eventually, Ma was carried out tied to a stretcher, to the ambulance outside.

"Luke, Ruth," Pa said. "I'm going with Ma to the hospital. I hope to return tonight, but if I don't, both of you are old enough to spend the night alone, or if you want, you can go to Daisy's house for the night." I noticed Ruth and Daisy off to the side, clinging to each other.

Jen came up in tears and hugged me. "Oh, Luke!" I cried again, reminded that her friend was dead. At least Ma was still alive. We had another round of hugs and tears, including Ruth and Daisy, hugging me together.

Vanessa said, "Girls, I think a couple of us should make ourselves useful, by cleaning things up." She went into the kitchen, and began cleaning up the bloody spots. I decided I couldn't let my friends do all the work.

I got up and went into the bedroom. I saw that the bedspread and the light blanket underneath had blood on them. A little had soaked through to the sheets as well, although none to the mattress pad and (thank goodness) to the mattress underneath.

When we took the blood-stained bedclothes to the washer, I asked, "Can the bedspread and blanket be washed?"

"Yes," answered Alice, "but on delicate settings."

"Blood has to be washed with cold water. Otherwise, it bakes in," added Carol. We started with the bedspread.

Meanwhile, others put on a new set of sheets, blanket, and bedspread. The kitchen floor was cleaned up, and someone found a carpet stain remover, and cleaned the blood from the carpet.

We didn't limit ourselves to removing the blood. Carol and I cleaned up my room which tended to be rather messy. Ruth and Daisy cleaned up Ruth's room. "Work is a good antidote to grief, when we can't actually do anything," said Vanessa. I also overheard her telling Jen, "Mom says that during my brief reappearances as Vernon, Vanessa's personally was beginning to stick to me. I'm not sure if that's a good thing."

"I hope you don't completely lose your carefree, cheerful attitude," I told her.

"I'll probably wind up with a mixture of both. It's all the better to be able to say and do things that I as Vernon was too scared to attempt. I hope I wind up with the best of both."

I sighed. "We haven't seen as much of your sister as before, ever since she discovered that girls-only water park a month ago."

"Tracy's made a bunch of new friends there," said Bruce, as we walked through the mall. It was about time to meet Peter to take me home for dinner, and we were headed to the meeting point. "I've met a few of them. They're very nice. Very hot, too. You know, Tracy keeps trying to get me to visit Bikini Beach. I think I managed to shut her up when I pointed out that Bikini Beach was a girls-only water park, and I didn't want to be a girl."

We both laughed together at his joke. Then I said, "That would be a nice idea for a fantasy TG Universe: a girls-only water park that admits boys but changes them to girls."

Bruce sighed. "Too bad it's impossible in real life."

We reached the entrance where Peter was going to pick me up. I said, "Peter wants me to join him in his babysitting job tonight. He thinks I might be able to take over for him when he heads off to Pacific Tech."

"It's tough, dude. You have my sympathies."

Shortly, Peter came to pick me up. "Bye, Bruce," I said as I got in the car.

"You don't seem very happy about joining me tonight, Kiddo," he said as he drove off. He was right there. "Honestly, Daisy's a great client. She's great, her parents are great, and they pay very well." My ears did perk up at that. Peter laughed. "I'd really have you rather than some random stranger take over for me, when I leave."

No doubt, Daisy was one of the young girls I'd seen playing around the neighborhood, one of the Asian ones, but what did a fourteen-year-old boy have to do with nine-year-old girls?

We arrived home shortly after Pa got home from work. Ma had dinner almost ready. The four of us chatted about random things over dinner, and then Peter and I left for Daisy's house.

It was just a short walk. Daisy lived a few houses down from us. Peter and I approached the door, Peter confidently, me nervously, and Peter rang the doorbell. Peter slipped his shoes off as we waited for someone to answer the door, and I followed his lead.

Mr. Matsumoto opened the door. "Hello, Peter, come--"

"Ooof!" A miniature bolt of lightning shot about Mr. Matsumoto and grabbed Peter around the waist.

"Peter!" exclaimed the nine-year-old girl wrapped around him, as Peter patted her back. Then the girl turned to me. "So you're Peter's kid brother." To my astonishment, she came and embraced me as well.

For some reason, I found it natural to lift her up to eye-level, and she put her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye.

"Peter talks about you, Luke, and I feel like I know you very well. You'll make a great big brother." I was flattered and a bit embarrassed and flustered, and I liked her already. Not to mention that she was very, very pretty.

"As Daisy noticed, this is my kid brother, Luke," said Peter as I followed him inside, carrying Daisy. "I hope he takes over for me when I leave for college, perhaps sometimes even earlier -- and Daisy appears to approve. I'd like him and Daisy to get acquainted, so we're both working tonight. If you don't mind, that is."

"Sounds great. I'm happy to meet you, Luke."

Despite holding Daisy with both arms, I did manage to stretch one hand out for a handshake. "I'm pleased to meet you, too."

Mr. Matsumoto said, "Ellen will be down in a moment, and we'll be on our way."

Daisy slid down and grabbed my hand. "Let's go downstairs and play. The games are there." I let her lead me on.

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

A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu

Part 21
Epilogue

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.

Late Monday Afternoon, July 28

"How did it go?" asked Grandmother, when Anya returned from seeing the new fourteen-year-old girl Tracy off to enjoy Bikini Beach.

"Very well," answered Anya. "The reality-shift is complete. Tracy Miura is now Bruce's twin sister. Jill and Timothy have never been murdered, and Peter was never arrested for the murder, or sent here to become Ruth. Neither the eight-year membership nor the lifetime upgrade were purchased."

"Tracy's reaction to being transformed?" asked Grandmother.

"Tracy was remorseful, shocked, horrified, overwhelmed, even suicidal at what he'd done. His parents were keeping him on a tight leash before his arrest, not only to keep him from being caught, but also to prevent him from turning himself in voluntarily or killing himself in his distress. His only complaint was to ask why I didn't change him to a little baby or a 90-year-old woman.

"I was prepared to go the little baby route if he'd complained, or become defensive or self-justifying about his crime. But there was none of that. Just overwhelming remorse at what he'd done. She seemed skeptical of my explanation that seventeen-year-old male Tracy never existed, and the murder never happened. Jill Denison is still alive and well, as is Tim Anderson. Tracy's disbelief doesn't matter; she, like everyone else, remembers only the new reality, in which she was always Bruce's twin sister, and she never raped or murdered anyone."

"I'm seriously concerned that the magic may not react quite the right way," said Grandmother. "Supposedly, the reality-shift means that Ruth never existed, but magic is more complicated than that. Undoing a lifetime membership and reversing the change may not be that simple. The magic may recoil or rebel instead of vanishing, and we may not have seen the last of Ruth."

Anya said, "It would probably have been simpler to create a new reality with another pretext for getting Peter the lifetime membership as Ruth, but that would have been most unfair to Peter -- and ultimately, might have led to the same controversy all over again."

Grandmother replied, "Things would also have been simpler had they let young Jennifer visit Spells R Us. The Wizard was going to do something about Anderson and his false jailing. He saw Anderson being murdered, one way or the other, either in prison or outside upon being released."

"We don't know what that shifty old wizard would have done," replied Anya. "He has nobody but himself to blame for the reputation he's got. Also, that would still have left Jill murdered -- probably."

"That's the usual way with murders; they stand unchanged. We simply can't reality-shift away every murder that ever occurs."

"True. In a sense, Jill got lucky that we had to repair our own blunder. Another thing: we have to make triply sure that it never gets out that a lifetime membership's change can be reversed -- through selling another lifetime membership with a reality-shift in which the original lifetime membership was never purchased. Bikini Beach transformations are becoming an open secret, with rumors abounding. We mustn't let this ever approach that level.

"It's still sad. A clique of BFFs was destroyed, and romances nipped in the bud."

"But undoing the murders, and eliminating the rage and grief associated with them, was very much worth it," Grandmother pointed out. "Those involved will find new romances, new BFFs, or not as the fates may allow -- just like anyone else's fortune. It's even minutely possible that some will meet again and rekindle their friendships.

"I do sense that a clique of new BFFs has formed around the original two girls, and that the new Tracy is one of them."

"I had her join them retroactively," said Anya. "I thought she needed friends from the start."

The END ... and a New Beginning?

This is a spoiler for my story "A Bikini Beach Summer". Please read that one first.

A Visit to Bikini Beach
by Daphne Xu

This is a spoiler for my story "A Bikini Beach Summer". Please read that one first.

Disclaimer: The Bikini Beach universe and its principal characters are copyright 2001 by Elrod.

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.

Furthermore, none of the legal advice, statements of the law, or legal procedure given in this story should be taken as representing the law or practice in the real world.

Monday, July 28, Mid-Afternoon

As Tracy Miura turned on the shower in the men's changing room at Bikini Beach, he thought back on that day and the previous day's events, and the summer past, in his usual state of despair and self-torment.
. . . . .

Jill Denison was a popular cheerleader at Westside High, a very pretty redhead. Tracy had had the hugest, most horrid crush on her ever since he'd first seen her in a cheerleading outfit and briefly spoken with her in band class. It was a hopeless, despairing crush, until someone told him that girls wanted to be pursued. A couple humiliating public rejections later, he caught her alone a few days after graduation from high school. All the pent-up lust, embarrassment, anger, hate, jealousy, and desire simply exploded. The consequence was his first and only sexual experience, and Jill's death.

The horror of what he'd just done hit him. He'd killed someone. He'd killed someone he loved! She was gone, she no longer existed, she was dead! How could he live with himself? Thanks to him, someone's life was ripped away and her family irrevocably ruined!

He somehow made it home, and somehow his parents found out. His parents promptly shipped his little brother Bruce off to Aunt Yuko's. They kept him a prisoner at home the rest of the summer, not even allowing him a visit to the Temple. He managed one suicide attempt despite his parents' near-constant watch over him, but that only brought in his paternal grandparents to double their vigil.

Tracy never figured out whether they were protecting him from being caught by the law or killing himself, or trying to avoid public shame and loss of face.

Meanwhile, shortly after the murder, the police arrested Tim Anderson, a black young man who had graduated from Westside High with him. They held Tim in jail for weeks, but then suddenly released him on bail.

The police came for Tracy only a week later, Sunday afternoon. It was way too late, he thought to himself. As he was booked into jail at the police station, an overhead television announced the murder of Tim Anderson. To his surprise, several officers applauded Tim's murder, apparently not realizing that Jill's actual murderer was even then and there being booked for the crime!

Tracy spent the night in jail -- probably as pleasant a night as any he'd spent at home as a virtual prisoner. They let him spend Monday morning and early afternoon in the jailhouse library. They took him to the courthouse that mid-afternoon.

He was dreading meeting his parents, but his contacts turned out to be Aunt Yuko and a tall distinguished-looking man. Tracy still couldn't do anything but look down in shame -- especially since Aunt Yuko was more like a cousin than an aunt, being only a few years older -- a very pretty cousin. He was still handcuffed from the trip there, but the three of them were in a private room.

"Tracy, this man is Jonathon Smith, your defense attorney. It is critically important that you trust him, and do exactly as he tells you."

"Greetings, Tracy. I am pleased to meet you," said the lawyer, holding out his hand.

"Hello," mumbled Tracy. He still couldn't look up at him, although he did manage a weak handshake with his handcuffs on.

"Ms. Higuchi," said the lawyer. "Please leave us for now. Tracy may be more comfortable if you are not here. Furthermore, I wish to be on the safe side, and avoid inadvertently waiving Tracy's attorney-client privilege."

"Of course, Mr. Smith," answered Aunt Yuko, as she left.

"Please, take a seat," said the lawyer. As both Tracy and the lawyer sat, the lawyer continued, "Our immediate task is to have you released on bail, and make sure you get a trial. Later, we shall have the liberty to discuss your defense at our leisure.

"For you, the most important thing to do at the hearing and before and after, is to remain silent if anyone other than the judge asks you a question or speaks to you. I will speak if necessary.

"Addressing the judge, the proper mode of address is, `Your Honor.' In most cases, if the judge asks you something, you should say, "I refuse to answer, your honor," or "My attorney will address that, your honor," or something similar.

"However, there is one important question that you may have to answer yourself: your plea. If the judge asks how you plea, and doesn't accept my answer in your behalf, your answer is, `Not guilty.'"

"But I--" began Tracy.

"That doesn't matter now. We can discuss the case at leisure later, and you may change your plea to guilty. For now, it's 'Not guilty.' Got that?"

Tracy sighed. The attorney wouldn't understand, he thought to himself.

"Occasionally, the judge will ask if you understand something. Glance at me, and if I indicate you may answer, then go ahead. It's important that you do understand if you say so. If you don't, I will try to inform the judge that I will explain it to you, or the judge will try to explain again. I'm thinking of bail conditions, where violation could get your bail revoked. But there may be other situations."

They talked some more, and then they left the room, and officers escorted them to a courtroom, a courtroom full of interested observers.

The judge reached Tracy's case shortly, and Tracy and the attorney sat at one of two tables in front of the judge. The judge was wearing a black robe, and sat on at a high bench looking out over the courtroom.

The prosecuting attorney spoke at length, and Tracy could barely understand the complicated language spoken, both by the prosecutor and by his defense attorney occasionally interrupting. He heard phrases such as "capital murder", "knowingly or intentionally causing the death of Jill Denison during the attempted aggravated sexual assault." DNA was mentioned several times.

It took a while, but finally, the judge turned to Tracy and asked, "How do you plead, Tracy Miura?"

Despite his attorney's instructions, Tracy was about to answer, "guilty," but the attorney preempted him by answering, "Not guilty, your honor."

The judge accepted the lawyer's plea on his behalf, and there was further discussion. Eventually, the judge ordered him released on an enormously high bail amount, and imposed certain conditions.

"You understand the conditions, Mr. Miura?" asked the Judge.

Tracy glanced at the attorney, who nodded. "Your honor, may I repeat my bail conditions, to make sure that I understand?"

"Certainly, Mr. Miura." Tracy noticed a brief smile.

"I must remain at home, except for court appearances and attending the temple my family normally attends. I must commit no further offense."

"That is correct. You understand that your bail may be revoked, and all money forfeited if you violate those conditions, correct?"

"Yes, your honor."

After a little more discussion among the attorneys and the judge, the judge ordered Tracy's handcuffs removed and Tracy freed on bail.

Finally, "All rise!" The judge departed from the bench.

His lawyer and Aunt Yuko escorted Tracy out of the courtroom, and down to Aunt Yuko's small car. He shook hands with his lawyer, who said, "I will see you again, shortly. You did well today."

Aunt Yuko got in the car and drove off.

After a few minutes, Tracy realized they were going the wrong way. Instead of going home, they were heading out of the city.

"Aunt Yuko, where are we going?"

"To Bikini Beach -- that's a water park your sis-- um, your brother and I frequent. It's quite pleasant."

He noted her slip of the tongue, and remembered briefly that Bikini Beach was a water park for girls, but he had a more urgent issue. "You do realize, we are violating the terms of my release -- right at the very start even!" he said bitterly.

"Don't worry about it," answered Aunt Yuko.

Tracy simmered in silence, thinking that perhaps this violation would get him back in jail where he belonged.

This being mid-afternoon, the line to the ticket booth was short. The saleslady was an elderly woman, with a visage both stern and gentle.

"Good afternoon, Grandmother," said Aunt Yuko. "As we discussed earlier, I would like a lifetime membership for my nephew Tracy." Grandmother looked straight into his eyes, and it seemed she was examining his very inner soul. Was she aware that he had raped and murdered a girl a couple months ago? There was no way they would allow him a membership here. She would probably summon the police, and they would return him to jail, and revoke his bail.

Grandmother handed him the membership card. "Take good care of it, and remember to shower -- it's a Bikini Beach requirement."
. . . . .

Tracy was now showering, in the swimming trunks Aunt Yuko had brought for him. The shower was the most relaxing, soothing, smooth that he'd ever experienced, and it only served to worsen his morose mood. He kept his eyes closed.

The shower turned off spontaneously. He felt strange all over -- he'd shrunk, his chest had swollen into breasts, his waist had narrowed, and his male privates had disappeared, replaced by female privates. His legs and arms, feet and hands, all felt peculiar. His swimming trucks had shrunk to a bikini bottom -- a minuscule version of the briefs he sometimes wore.

He could tell all this without opening his eyes.

He left the shower room and looked into the mirror, expecting to see pretty much what he saw: a pretty young teenage Japanese-American girl, definitely younger than himself -- perhaps the age of his kid brother Bruce -- wearing only flip-flops and a bikini bottom. Almost a young version of Aunt Yuko. If Bruce often came here, this explained Aunt Yuko's slip of the tongue earlier. He couldn't imagine Bruce being a girl, though. In other circumstances, he knew, he'd have died to see Bruce as a girl.

A pretty lady entered, apparently about the age of Aunt Yuko, but taller. "Hello, Tracy. Grandmother doesn't allow topless swimming here, so here's your bikini top." She tossed it to her.

"You changed me into a girl," Tracy said, tying the top about his breasts. "Why not a one-year-old baby, or better yet, a ninety-year-old woman? You have no idea what I did! The poor girl!" She burst into tears, something she'd never done previously as a teenage boy, no matter how buried in guilt and despair he'd felt. She only barely felt the lady take her in her arms, letting her cry against her bosom.

"Tracy, Tracy, you realize you answered your own question. Grandmother and I know what you did. We also know that you have been guilt-wracked, desperately, suicidally remorseful for it ever since. Your parents have kept you imprisoned at home, to prevent you from turning yourself in to the police or killing yourself."

"Meanwhile, someone else, totally innocent, has been in jail for a long time, and then, just yesterday, murdered," answered Tracy bitterly.

"That," replied the young lady in her own bitter tone, "was our fault. We blundered, compounding the crime, making it even worse than yours. We have to repair it. Hence we transform you to young Bruce's twin sister. We did consider the newborn-baby girl option, and would have used that if you'd complained, been defiant or self-righteous, self-justifying, about Jill's murder.

"We've also shifted reality. Seventeen-year-old male Tracy never existed; Bruce has grown up with his twin sister Tracy. Jill was never murdered, and is alive and well now. Likewise, Tim was never arrested for the murder, never had to be released on bail, and never murdered. And an acquaintance of yours, Peter Cuttington, whom you have forgotten, was never falsely accused of the murder and transformed by Bikini Beach into a nine-year-old girl."

"I must admit to being skeptical, although I wouldn't have believed that a boy could be changed into a girl like this before," said Tracy.

"Unfortunately, this reality shift has to include transforming your memories, as well as everyone else's memories, to match the new reality. If we allowed you to continue to remember, even softening your memory, you would continue to experience bouts of despair, depression, anxiety, fury -- possibly even suicide -- over your memory of the crime. Within ten seconds of leaving this changing room, you will forget everything and recall only the new reality. Enjoy your stay at Bikini Beach, Tracy." With that, the young woman turned and departed.

Tracy stood there for a moment, wondering what was in store for her now. Would she really be turning over a new leaf? After a moment's nervous reflection, she exited the changing room, and stopped to look at all the water rides visible in the distance, as well as the half-naked girls and women all around.

Aunt Yuko approached in her bikini, and Tracy ran over to meet her. Tracy was happy to spend the evening with Aunt Yuko, but was a little disappointed that she couldn't play and spend time with her Bikini Beach girlfriends. But today was Monday, and the girls only met together on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. This evening would be quality girl-girl time with Aunt Yuko.

The END

Disclaimer: this story should never be thought of as Bikini-Beach canon in any shape or form. It's less of a story and more of a thought exercise, telling the first day's transformations of Luke and Peter in "A Bikini Beach Summer" using a suggested Multiverse view of Bikini-Beach reality shifts, and imagining how things would have to work.

As usual, the characters who say things about Bikini Beach, or whose thoughts about BB we are privy to, may get things wrong.

The Bikini Beach Universe is copyright 2001 by ElrodW.

Multiverse Lucy & Ruth
by Daphne Xu

As Ma stepped up to the booth, fourteen-year-old Luke stood behind Ma, next to his seventeen-year-old brother Peter. While Ma was engaged with the saleslady, Luke used this opportunity to look around at all the girls and women, most of whom were very pretty, many of whom were already in their swimwear often covered by tee-shirts.

While they were standing in line, Luke had kept his eyes averted. He didn't want anyone -- Ma in particular -- to see that he found pretty girls in swimwear -- bare legs and all -- quite attractive.

This whole situation was bizarre, thought Luke to himself. For whatever reason, Ma never took Peter's exoneration seriously. She still believed that Peter had raped and murdered that girl. So why was she taking them to a girls-only water park, of all places, to enjoy a relaxing, fun-filled day?

Peter was standing still, but he was clearly fuming his usual bad temper from the past two weeks -- muttering and growling to himself, clenching his fists, sometimes shaking them. Luke could see why; Peter had told him some of his experiences in police custody, leading to his false confession to the murder. Peter and his attorneys were preparing to sue.

Finally, Ma handed Luke and Peter their passes. As Luke glanced at his, a guest pass good for that day, the saleslady spoke loud enough for Luke to distinctly hear, "Remember to shower. It's a health requirement." They walked through the turnstiles, swiping their passes, and turned toward the locker rooms.

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

Meanwhile, very far away -- not in the country, not on this earth, not in this galaxy, not even in a galaxy far, far away -- yet in another sense rather nearby, a certain distance off in another dimension, utterly unfamiliar to us all -- in another nearby Universe, almost identical to this one, on an Earth almost identical to this Earth, a similar event was taking place.

That world's Ma was taking her two daughters, Lucy and Ruth, to Bikini Beach for the day. Fourteen-year-old Lucy had never heard of Bikini Beach before, and was very much looking forward to seeing it. Ruth, only nine years old, was less successful at containing her excitement. The only thing marring Lucy's excitement was concern about Pa. Pa would have hated it if he knew they were going to a place called Bikini Beach -- even if it was girls-only. Yet Ma had told both of them to bring their bikinis, which would have utterly outraged Pa.

"Remember to shower. It's a health requirement," said the saleslady, as the three of them headed towards the locker rooms.

Lucy and Ruth both stopped at an entrance and were about to enter, when Ma turned. "No, girls, this way."

"But it says right here, `Men's Changing Room'," said Lucy.

"Whoops, you're right, my mistake. Sorry about that."

Lucy opened the door, and the two girls entered as Ma proceeded onward towards the women's locker room.

As Lucy entered, she was very glad to have Ruth with her. The locker room was completely empty, almost spooky. Nevertheless, the two girls chose lockers at random. Lucy changed into her bikini and headed toward one of the showers.

Lucy briefly noticed the pink mist rising in the shower, and wondered if it was her imagination. She forgot about it though, jumping at Ruth's shriek from the next shower over.

Apparently, Ruth had lost her bikini top.

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

Meanwhile, showering in the women's locker room, Ma changed from a happy housewife and mother of two girls to an angry housewife and mother of two boys -- furious at her older son's murder of Jill Denison, furious at how his attorney had got him off scott-free, and furious at how both Pa and younger-son Luke supported Peter. Luke, at least, she could understand. Peter was his Big Brother. But Pa? He was supposed to properly discipline and control his children, not support and defend them when they get in trouble!

Her friend and fellow Firmlove member Mrs. Winstead had told her about Bikini Beach and the properties of its magical transformations. It was decided that Peter would become Ruth and relive the last eight years of his life. Ma would provide the proper discipline and instruction, and by the time Ruth returned as Peter at seventeen, Peter would be an upstanding young man, prepared for a legal and productive life.

The accompanying reality-shift would ensure that as far as the world was concerned, Peter never existed; the girl was always Ruth. Thus Ruth would get no support from Luke or Pa, who would be unaware of the change. As a side effect, Jill's murder would never have occurred.

The young mage in charge here -- Ma thought she was probably a substitute; she seemed rather unsure of everything, confused, and overworked -- let Ma visit the new Lucy and Ruth in the men's changing room to explain things. Admittedly, she knew little herself, but she knew enough to explain to Ruth, and according to the mage, Lucy would have no memory of the changes and need no explanation. The mage had given her Ruth's bikini top; that would provide the excuse for her to enter the men's room.

Ma walked over to the men's changing room -- labeled inside Bikini Beach as the women's overflow room -- and returned Ruth's bikini top, shooing Lucy out in the process. She would explain everything to Ruth, and tell her the situation.

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

Back on this Earth in our universe, Ma muttered as she started the car, "I have no idea what I was thinking. Of course, Bikini Beach is for women and girls only. What could possibly have possessed me to think... I'm going to have a good long talk with Mrs. Winstead the instant we get home."

Peter and Luke were both in the back seat. Luke was burning with humiliation. The whole crowd had all seen the saleslady chasing after them, returning them to the sales booth to refund their passes, and sending them back to their car, their metaphorical tails between their legs.

Peter growled to Luke, "It figures. If Ma can't figure out that the DNA mismatch between the criminal and me meant that I wasn't the criminal, then of course she can't figure out that `girls-only' means what it says: we are excluded. But the truly scary thing was that the saleslady actually sold us eight-year memberships before realizing that we were boys and not permitted at Bikini Beach."

"Eight years?" said Luke, confused. He got out his own voided pass. "Mine was good only for today."

"Interesting," said Peter. "That makes the puzzle all the more puzzling. There may have been something further than meets the eye here. I'm going to have to look into it."

The family returned to their lives. Peter's attorneys ultimately worked out an undisclosed settlement with the city for the police misconduct. The actual murderer, who had been arrested the day before the attempted visit to Bikini Beach, ultimately pled guilty to capital murder and was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.

Life went on.

The END

PS. Sometime around midnight or 2PM, Lucy is supposed to revert to Luke. Luke would have always existed, visited Bikini Beach as a boy(!), had experiences at Bikini Beach similar to Lucy's, and potentially had some memories fogged up by Bikini Beach. That now entails a 3rd universe, with Luke and Ruth as Pa and Ma's children, and with 2nd-universe's Ruth and Ma's memories and mind (already possessed by our universe's Peter and Ma's minds) superimposed on Ruth and Ma.

"A Bikini Beach Summer" could have taken different route: when Lucy reverts to Luke, reality is now that Luke never went to Bikini Beach. Ma and (probably) Ruth remember Luke becoming Lucy at Bikini Beach. Luke is not supposed to remember any reality-shift or get hints of it, so he, along with Pa and everyone else, remembers only his non-Bikini-Beach day. Maybe he joined Ma and Ruth going to Bikini Beach (perhaps to enjoy the view at the entrance) and then returned home on the bus. In this version of the story, Luke never meets Lucy's Bikini-Beach BFFs. Again, we have a third universe where the children in the family are Luke and Ruth. That universe's Ma and Ruth have the minds of the second universe's Ma and Ruth (already possessed by our universe's Ma and Peter's minds) imposed on them.

As one can see, things can get grossly complicated and unwieldy, especially if one wrote the story properly, and explicitly jumped from universe to universe as needed. (And then, incorporate Vernon and Vanessa...)

This is the sequel to "A Bikini Beach Summer".

Luke Cuttington's older brother, Peter, persuades Luke to join his babysitting job with the idea of taking over once Peter leaves for college. Luke takes over the babysitting, and continues his summer routine of activities and relaxation.

        Disclaimer

Bikini Beach and its main 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.

        Monday, July 28

GLENN MATSUMOTO WAS SEARCHING prior art online as part of a patent application he was filing, when the phone rang. "It's Ellen," called Darline over the intercom from the front desk.

"Thanks, Darline!" he replied, as he answered the phone. "Hi, Ellen!"

"Hi Honey, the night at the Itohs is good to go tonight."

"Ah, good." Glenn did his best to sound happy. Jack and Ai Itoh were their friends with benefits, and he was quite happy to have a quiet night with them. He had his doubts because, unfortunately, about half the time, Ellen used her visit to cover for her own nocturnal prowling.

Ellen was officially a private investigator, but Glenn knew that Ellen's methods stepped outside the law on occasion, and sometimes she actively intervened in a crime. The less Glenn knew about her activities, the better. He hoped that if she did slip out tonight, she would only find some young man or young lady to seduce, and that would be it.

"Peter's babysitting Daisy tonight, right?" asked Glenn, quite certain of the answer.

"Of course. It's not as if he has any kind of night life, or any kind of social life."

"Okay, love-ya."

"Love-you, bye."

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

"WE HAVEN'T SEEN as much of your sister as before, ever since she discovered that girls-only water park a month ago," I said, sighing.

"Tracy's made a bunch of new friends there," said Bruce, as we walked through the mall. It was about time to meet Peter to take me home for dinner, and we were headed to the meeting point. "I've met a few of them. They're very nice. Very hot, too. You know, Tracy keeps trying to get me to visit Bikini Beach. I think I managed to shut her up when I pointed out that Bikini Beach was a girls-only water park, and told her that I didn't want to be a girl."

We both laughed together at his joke. I said, "That would make a nice fantasy change-boy-to-girl Universe: a girls-only water park that admits boys but changes them to girls."

Bruce sighed. "Too bad it's impossible in real life."

We reached the entrance where Peter was going to pick me up. I said, "Peter wants me to join him in his babysitting job tonight. He thinks I might be able to take over for him when he heads off to Pacific Tech."

"It's tough, dude. You have my sympathies."

Shortly after, Peter came by to pick me up. "Bye, Bruce," I said as I got in the car.

"You don't seem very happy about joining me tonight, Kiddo," he said as he drove off. He was right there. "Honestly, Daisy's a great client. She's great, her parents are great, and they pay very well." My ears did perk up at that. Peter laughed. "I'd really have you rather than some random stranger take over for me, when I leave for college."

No doubt, Daisy was one of the young girls I'd seen playing around the neighborhood, one of the Asian ones, but what did a fourteen-year-old boy have to do with nine-year-old girls?

We arrived home shortly after Pa got home from work. Ma had dinner almost ready. The four of us chatted about random things over dinner, and then Peter and I left for Daisy's house.

It was just a short walk. Daisy lived a few houses down from us. Peter and I approached the door, Peter confidently, me nervously, and Peter rang the doorbell. Peter slipped his shoes off as we waited for someone to answer the door, and I followed his lead.

Mr. Matsumoto opened the door. "Hello Peter, come--"

"Ooof!" A miniature bolt of lightning shot forward. "Peter!" exclaimed the nine-year-old girl wrapped around him, as Peter patted her back. Then the girl turned to me. "So you're Peter's kid brother, Luke." To my astonishment, she came and embraced me as well.

For some reason, I lifted her up to eye-level. She put her hands on my shoulders and looked me straight in the eye. "Peter talks about you, and I feel like I know you very well. You'll make a great big brother."

I was flattered and a bit embarrassed and flustered, and I liked her already. Not to mention that she was very pretty.

"As Daisy noticed, this is my kid brother, Luke," said Peter as I followed him inside, carrying Daisy. "I hope he takes over for me when I leave for college, perhaps sometimes even earlier -- and Daisy appears to approve. I'd like him and Daisy to get acquainted, so we're both working tonight. If you don't mind, that is."

"Sounds great. I'm happy to meet you, Luke."

Despite holding Daisy with both arms, I did manage to stretch one hand out for a handshake. "I'm pleased to meet you, too."

Mr. Matsumoto said, "Ellen will be down in a moment, and we'll be on our way."

Daisy slid down and grabbed my hand. "Let's go downstairs and play. The games are there." I let her lead me on.

She led me to a pair of computers next to each other. Wow! I didn't have any computers, although Pa had one in his office at home. Peter sometimes was allowed to use it. Was I actually going to be allowed to use a computer?

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

THAT WAS MOST interesting, thought Glenn, as Daisy dragged Peter's younger brother Luke downstairs to the computers. Glenn's wife, Ellen, appeared just as Luke and Daisy disappeared down the staircase. Glenn was sure it was no coincidence: Daisy didn't want Luke to see her mom.

"Darling, you are ravishing," said Glenn to Ellen, who was wearing gray slacks, a white sleeveless blouse that showed considerable cleavage, and flat strappy sandals.

Ellen fluttered her eyes at Glenn, then turned to Peter. "Good evening, Peter. As always, I appreciate your coming to babysit Daisy." She held her hand out to Peter, and Peter gave it a good firm shake. Glenn noticed that Peter always kept his eyes squarely on hers -- no surprise, as by now Peter had plenty of practice.

"I am happy to be of help," replied Peter. "My brother Luke joined me tonight, and I hope he can take over for me when I leave for college -- something that's been worrying me a while. By now, Daisy is downstairs teaching Luke how to run a computer and play games."

"I really should go down and meet him," said Ellen.

"That won't be necessary," said Glenn, putting his arm around her shoulder and gently directing her toward the door. "After all, we want to leave Luke conscious, sane, and functional to help with Daisy. Right Peter?" Glenn grinned.

"Indubitably. Enjoy tonight's function, both of you."

As Glenn and Ellen walked to their car, Glenn commented, "Peter's a smart boy there -- thinking about what happens with Daisy when he goes off to college, and coming up with a potential solution. I am concerned about Daisy, though. Remember how long it took before Peter became Daisy's favorite babysitter?"

"A couple of months, as I recall," answered Ellen. "That's how long it took him to get over drooling over me. For a while, he wore something to prevent his pants from bulging out."

"He finally realized he had no chance with you," joked Glenn.

"Oh, I'm sure he knew that from the start. He just had to train his reflexes. After all, I wouldn't care to ruin his future prospects with the young ladies."

"In any case," continued Glenn, "Daisy and Luke instantly took to each other. She even knew his name without being told."

"Peter probably told her quite a bit about his younger brother, and Peter and Luke look enough alike to be recognizable as brothers."

Glenn wondered if that really explained Daisy's promptly hugging Luke and letting Luke lift her up and carry her inside.

They reached Jack and Ai's house in good time. Both Jack and Ai were at the door, which opened promptly on the ring of the doorbell. Glenn greeted Ai with a hug, and Ellen hugged Jack in greeting.

"You look lusty as usual, Ellen," said Jack as he backed away, looking her up and down. "I shiver with anticipation at seeing the rest of you."

They continued into the living room, which had all been set up with snack food: chips, pretzels, crackers, carrots and other rabbit food, sodas, fine wines, and beer.

Jack inserted a VHS, and turned off the lights. Before the video really began, Ai came and sat on Glenn's lap, pressing back against him. Glenn got caught up in the movie, while absently munching rabbit food, sipping his soda, and helping Ai work herself and him out of their clothes.

        .
        .
        .

The clock showed about 2:30 when Ellen nudged Glenn awake and helped him unpin and untangle himself from Ai on the sofa. Glenn knew he was rather intoxicated. He vaguely recalled noticing the absence of Ellen and Jack from the room, and hearing familiar noises from the bedroom. He also recalled having to pause the video and go to the bathroom before letting Ai impale herself on him as they watched the rest of the movie.

He also recalled silence from the bedroom when the movie ended, and hoped that it didn't mean that Ellen had slipped out.

Ellen drove home. She always remained sober and awake during these visits. When they got home, they found Peter and Luke playing cards. Luke was doing his best to stay awake. Glenn paid Peter for both of them, reminding Peter to give Luke his share. The last Glenn saw of them, they were staggering home down the street.

        Tuesday, July 29

I WOKE UP very late in Monday's clothes, and staggered downstairs just as Peter was about to depart for wherever he spent the day. "Luke! Before I forget, here's your payment for last night's babysitting." He handed me a surprisingly large amount of money -- wow! "Mr. Matsumoto pays well -- especially when he's drunk."

As I made and ate my own breakfast, Ma turned on the Mental Work. Pa had already left for work. After the Mental Work, I had to listen to the Lesson-Sermon that I'd recorded the previous day with Pa. Ma was already working, but about halfway through the recording, she briefly paused it and said, "Luke, please don't cringe at the recording. You sound fine."

"Ma, please. I sound like someone saying, `Duh!'"

"No you don't. How can I persuade you?" she sighed. She'd never understand, I realized. She said nothing further, and resumed the Lesson.

Despite the brief conflict, I still helped her with the housework afterwards. Surprisingly, it was voluntary on my part rather than something Ma required. A month or so earlier, I'd had an epiphany: I'd gradually come to realize that summer vacation was rather boring, despite my activities, AND Ma worked rather hard for the family.

So I began helping Ma with the chores -- the easier ones, of course. This had two surprising side-effects: Ma and I talked more than we'd ever talked before, and my allowance was raised considerably.

I also practiced clarinet and piano a lot more than I needed to, although the quality of practice was rather low. And I actually worked from that geometry textbook that Peter got me. ("If you can place out of geometry and get into Algebra II, you'll be all the further ahead in math.")

"How was babysitting last night?" she asked, while we folded clothes we'd just removed from the dryer.

"Quite fun, actually. I was surprised." I didn't tell everything that happened last night. "We played games for a while, then I managed to get Daisy to go to bed at a reasonable time by promising to read to her in bed. I read `A Wrinkle in Time'." I didn't tell the entire story. For example, the games we played were computer games. I was illicitly learning about computers.

And I definitely didn't tell how I dozed off on the floor in her bedroom, and then comforted her when she woke crying from a nightmare. Instead I jumped to the last couple of hours. "Peter and I spent the rest of the night playing cards and drinking soda, desperately trying to keep me awake until Daisy's parents returned. They got home late."

A little later, Ma brought up a subject guaranteed to thoroughly embarrass me: "Luke, have you gotten to know any nice girls?"

"Well, um," I focused my attention on the shirts I was folding. "I've met many girls, but only Tracy... I know well... my friend." I stammered out my answer. I certainly wasn't going to mention Daisy; that would only lead to trouble.

"She could be your girlfriend?"

"No-no-no, just a friend. You know, like Bruce, her brother. I think you met them."

"Yes, the Miura twins. They're both good kids. Tracy could become your girlfriend, if you let her."

"I... um... tried," I blushed. Bruce and I were paired a few times in history and science classes last year. In science class, we had occasional contests, and kept beating everyone else. Then I met his twin sister, Tracy, and promptly got a major crush on her. For once, very much unlike my usual self, I tried asking her to lunch and a movie -- and got a crushing, mortifying no.

The surprising thing was that both she and Bruce noticed my embarrassment, and were quite apologetic about it. As a result, we became friends. The three of us were often together, not so much during the summer, and definitely not so much since Tracy discovered Bikini Beach. "I don't think of her that way, not any more," I told Ma.

I think Ma noticed my embarrassment, and she was nice enough this time to drop the subject.

In between various tasks, I practiced on the piano and the clarinet. Finally, Ma sent me out. "Go out and have some fun. You've helped a lot today."

I did go out, wondering whether to hit the library or the mall. I thought for the moment of returning inside for a book, and relaxing outside reading it.

"Luke! Come play with us!" It was Daisy! She was with a bunch of other kids in a large front yard across the street one house down. I ran over to join her.

"We're playing kickball. Wanna be on my team?" said Daisy.

"No fair!" said a boy. "A big boy on your team!"

"How about this?" I suggested. "I pitch for both teams."

And that's what I did. Whether it made the game more interesting for the kids or more boring, one couldn't say. I caught many fly balls, as well as many grounders that I promptly tossed to first base for the out.

We were getting pretty tired, when the mom who lived here came out the door and announced, "Lunch time!" Most of the children followed her into the house, but Daisy took my hand and led me to her own house, just across the street and a few houses down the street.

I wondered if I should call home to tall Ma where I was. Then I decided it wasn't necessary. I never did when I was at the mall or the library. Nobody was at Daisy's home when we got there, so Daisy made a few ham and cheese sandwiches for both of us. "Mom often goes out during the day for a couple hours. She'll probably return in an hour or so."

"These sandwiches are wonderful, Daisy."

She smiled shyly and prettily at the compliment.

I was at a loss for words, as I sat eating the sandwiches and watching Daisy with a giddy, embarrassed, smile.

We finished, and I helped Daisy put the few dishes in the dishwasher. I was getting rather tired from this morning's action, and said as much.

"I'm a bit sleepy, too. Mom wants me to nap around this time. It would probably not be a good idea for Mom to catch us napping together, would it?"

I shuddered, imagining the serious trouble I'd be in.

"Mom would think she'd get free babysitting," Daisy continued. I laughed at that, and she laughed as well.

"Well, thank you for the lovely lunch," I said. "See-ya again some time."

"Next time we need a babysitter, I'll ask for you," said Daisy. "And I hope we'll play together as well." She hugged me and ran up to her bedroom, shouting "goodbye!" as she ran.

I tried to keep my thoughts wholesome, especially as I would probably encounter Ma at home. I finally thought of the geometry text, and thought it would be a good idea to do a few pages from it. I was only about halfway through the text, and we had how many weeks until school began again? Three, four?

Back in my room, I decided to finish up the geometry chapter. I had a scheme for deciding which problems to do and which to skip: I rolled a die at each problem. I did it if I rolled a six. Otherwise, I skipped the problem. That resulted in a nice selection of easy, intermediate, and difficult problems to do without having to do the entire book. It also helped me with the postulates and the theorems, and what to do with them.

I was seriously sleepy, so I set the textbook and my paper down, and got into bed.

It was about 4:30 when I woke up again. I practiced piano and clarinet, until dinner time when Pa and Peter came home.

Shortly after dinner, Ma left for her weekly Firmlove meeting. Peter and I scraped the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, and hand-washed the things that couldn't go in the dishwasher. Then I retired to my room to read some more.

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

DAISY WENT DOWNSTAIRS after dinner to play on her computers, and Ellen dragged Glenn to their bedroom for a particularly passionate evening fueled by the previous night.

Despite the passion, or perhaps because of it, Glenn worried. He didn't want to know if she'd gone out, or what she did if she did. True, Ellen could take care of herself better than anyone else he knew -- and certainly better than he could. But Ellen had to make only one mistake, and it would be all over.

Daisy would be motherless.

"I'm going to clean up, and then join Daisy downstairs," said Glenn, tears in his eyes, standing up to leave the room.

        Wednesday, July 30

TAEKWONDO WAS MY ONLY activity today -- apart from the mandatory boring Lesson-Sermon in the morning and the mandatory Wednesday Evening Meeting at Church in the evening. After the usual hearing of the Mental Work and Lesson-Sermon, and some piano and clarinet practice and a little housework, I put on my Taekwondo uniform and left about three hours before the actual class and packed a clean set of clothes. I found it more convenient to put my Taekwondo uniform on at home, rather than just before class.

Not only that, it seemed as if on Mondays and Fridays, my piano and clarinet teachers were nicer when I wore my TKD uniform. I'd long since gotten used to the strange looks passers-by gave me whenever I was out in my not-so-pure white outfit.

I decided to visit the public library first. I had a couple books to return.

I thought with excitement of going to "Forbidden Flowers" but felt too scared of getting caught. So instead, I browsed the rows of the adult fiction section. A really fat paperback book called "Lace" caught my attention. It was by Shirley Conran, and the cover was quite sexy, showing an item of women's underwear. If I checked it out, I hoped my parents and Peter wouldn't find it.

I was pretty sure that at the checkout stand, they wouldn't let me check it out -- and would embarrass me in the process, but perhaps if I hid it among other books...

I headed over to the young-adult section, where I really belonged. I spotted almost immediately a pretty Asian girl -- the shelves were quite low here -- browsing the science-fiction and fantasy section. I just couldn't keep my attention away from her, and kept glancing at her. Thinking of yesterday's embarrassing conversation with Ma, I wondered if I could somehow get to talking with her.

It was a good thing I liked science fiction and fantasy; I could legitimately browse while still creeping near her. And I did come close to her, after picking up a couple books. She was browsing through a book, and I recognized the cover: Tamora Pierce's "Squire".

I hesitated during a moment of nerves, but then took the plunge. "Tamora Pierce? I like her books."

The girl stood up; she was about my height. "Yeah, she really is a good author. Have you read this one yet?"

"Not yet," I answered. "I prefer the `Circle of Magic' books to her Tortall ones. But I've read `First Test' and `Page'." I'd first learned about girls' periods from her first Tortall book, but I wasn't going to mention that.

We chatted more about Tamora Pierce, and also other authors. As we talked, both of us picked up a couple more books to check out.

The girl laughed at one point, and said, "I see you're hiding a sexy book in there."

CAUGHT! I couldn't help blushing, and I was stuck for words. I opened and shut my mouth noiselessly, which of course made her laugh all the more, which only reinforced my embarrassment.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders, and pulled me almost off-balance against her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm Carol Hsu. What's your name?"

"Luke Cuttington. Pleased to meet you." I stuffed my books in my left arm, to hold my right arm out for a handshake. I felt a bit strange acting as if I were meeting someone new, considering we'd already talked for some time -- and even gotten a bit sexy together. We did shake hands.

"I have to go check these out and meet my sister," she said.

"May I join you? I think I have enough books to check out now."

"Sure!" She smiled such a winning smile, I almost melted right there.

We checked our books out, and "Lace" got through with no problem. I picked up my knapsack, stuffed my books in, and followed Carol outside.

We talked a little as she waited, then a car drove up. She jumped into the back seat, waved at me, and shouted, "See-ya around, Luke!" as I waved back.

I headed for the mall, sporting a giddy smile practically all the way. I wondered how I looked to the passers-by. I still had plenty of time before the TKD class.

I saw a bunch of girls standing in front of posters at the entrance of a music and video store, giggling and chattering excitedly at high pitch. They were blocking most of the posters, but I could still see a trio of shirtless boys younger than me (the tallest might have been my age), one sporting drums, one sporting a bass electric guitar, and the third sporting a smaller electric guitar and standing behind a microphone.

I couldn't help stopping and watching the girls. They all varied in their mode of dress and speech, and they were all attractive to a person. Even the "unattractive girls" whose comments were mostly ignored, were quite attractive in their own way.

I was wondering how I could ever get to talking with them, at the same time wondering if that would be betraying the girl at the library, when the excited exclamation of a familiar girl's voice made me jump almost out of my skin. "Oh-my-gosh, it's the Naked Brothers Band!"

I spun around just in time to see Tracy dashing into the crowd of girls. Bruce, who was with her, shrugged with a bemused grin. "They're definitely hot, aren't they?"

"I can't think of any way to go up and talk with them," I said unhappily, turning my head to Bruce.

"Don't ask me," he replied. "I don't know any more than you. I'm going to the food court. We were heading there originally, so Tracy'll know where to find me."

I went with him, feeling my usual distress that I was somehow giving up an opportunity with girls, but also this time I thought I might want to save myself for Carol. I kept wondering how I'd been able to go up and talk to her at the library in the first place.

I decided to tell Bruce about meeting her and talking with her at the library.

"Wow!" he said. "I don't think you've actually had the nerve to hit on a girl since that time last year with Tracy."

"Oh, don't remind me please!" That had been embarrassing, even though it turned out well and Tracy become one of my very few friends. Except for rare occasions, I no longer thought of her that way. "Not unless you want me to bring up Valen--"

"Okay, okay! I get the point." Bruce shuddered.

I got a slice of pizza at the food court, and Bruce got something Japanese. I was rather hungry, but I knew I shouldn't eat much before Taekwondo.

Tracy joined us just as we sat down. "You couldn't even wait for me?" she asked. "Too chicken to talk with the girls, I know."

"By the way," said Bruce. "Apparently on Monday, when Aunt Yuko took Tracy to Bikini Beach, they finally took the plunge and got Tracy a lifetime membership."

"Yes indeed," said Tracy, rummaging through her purse and getting out a card that resembled a credit card. She showed it to us. "Aunt Yuko was already a life member, of course."

"So does that mean we'll see even less of you than we've been seeing this past month?" I asked, injecting a tragic tone into my question, with hopefully a suitably tragic expression.

"Well... If you came, you'd see quite a bit more of both me and Aunt Yuko. You'd get to see us in bikinis."

"Oh, please, Tracy!" I was blushing and had trouble breathing. I'd met their Aunt Yuko a few times, and she looked very much like an older version of Tracy. She was less than a decade older, I knew. I couldn't quite get to imagining them in bikinis. "You wanna shock me, or you want my crush on you to return with a vengeance, just go right ahead and show yourself to me in a bikini," I said, to the laughter of both Bruce and Tracy. "Unfortunately, my mind just did its crazy thing again, this time shifting through various girls, all the way to Ma in a bikini." I mimed wiping away the crap.

"Your Ma would look wonderful in a bikini," said Bruce.

"No-no-no-no-no-no-no!" I exclaimed. "Pa wouldn't allow it anyway."

"Hot, dazzling, lusty,..." continued Bruce.

"No-no-no-no!" I was getting seriously squicked now.

"But various girls? This is getting interesting," said Tracy.

"Luke mentioned the girl at the library this morning. What was her name, again?" asked Bruce.

"Carol."

"Ooooo, interesting," said Tracy with a giggle. "Did she say anything about your attire?"

"Surprisingly, no. I wasn't even thinking of that at the time." So true. I hadn't been even thinking about myself in my TKD uniform.

"Luke," said Tracy. "With your Taekwondo uniform, if you played your cards right, you'd attract many girls. They'd even share you with other girls."

"Tracy," I replied. "If I knew how to play my cards right, I'd probably have a girlfriend by now. I just hope I actually played them right at the library with Carol, and didn't forget something critical. I hope I somehow meet her again, and recognize her when I do."

"But you mentioned `various girls'," said Bruce. "Were there any others?"

"You know, half the girls at Taekwondo, half the girls at school. Pretty much any girl I can't work up the nerve to talk to or ask out. Um, well." I wondered if I should admit this. "Remember Peter `suggesting' that I join him babysitting Monday night? Well, that girl is very pretty. Not only that, she promptly took to me. I really like her, too." I quickly looked around, hoping nobody else was listening, and lowered my head and my voice. "It's really too bad she's only nine years old."

They both laughed again.

"It gets better. Yesterday morning, she was with her friends playing kickball, and she roped me into the game. Her friends are all cute. Even some of the boys."

"Man, I'm jealous! All of a sudden, you're meeting girls right and left!" said Bruce. "But definitely, don't limit yourself. Don't rule out anyone; she just might be your soulmate. And you're on a roll now; you might meet other girls."

"Especially if you visit Bikini Beach," added Tracy with a giggle.

Bruce sighed. "Why am I not surprised?" He rolled his eyes upward.

"They occasionally admit guys," said Tracy. "They have a small men's changing room."

"That's probably just for emergency and unusual situations. Maybe to satisfy regulations," countered Bruce.

"Yesterday morning, I saw a pair of hunks, real hotties, at the ticket booth." Tracy licked her lips. "Brothers, a high-school student and a college student, I think. It looked like they were actually sold guest passes; they made it to the men's changing room before I could make it through the turnstile and introduce myself." Tracy sighed. "I couldn't find them inside Bikini Beach no matter how hard I looked. I even asked my friends." She sounded so tragic.

"That's not exactly encouraging," said Bruce. "Now, you're telling us to go to a girls-only waterpark that admits boys who disappear without a trace. Can't you think of anything more nightmarish than that?" I detected the snark in Bruce's tone.

I shuddered, and Tracy said nothing more for a little while. Then she spoke somberly as I'd never heard her before: "I woke up screaming from a nightmare last night, for the first time since I was seven or eight. I can't remember most of it -- being tracked by a huge black monster, a shadow monster, having to sneak about, hide, and remain silent. I finally made it home, and locked and bolted the door, only to discover the monster waiting inside for me. That's when I woke up screaming."

After another moment of silence, during which I shuddered and shivered, Bruce shifted over and put his hands around Tracy. She bent and leaned against him -- and then sat back up and lightly swatted him, giggling. "Ow!" chirped Bruce with his own laugh, and he sat back in his chair.

I said, "I had plenty of nightmares when I was little. A year or so ago, I had a nightmare featuring elementary school, IT from `A Wrinkle in Time', and a swampful of poisonous snakes. The school was in the middle of the swamp."

Eventually, it was time for Taekwondo. Tracy and Bruce both came to watch. Peter greeted all three of us when he came. After the class, we spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out at the mall.

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

GLENN MATSUMOTO was in his office that afternoon, preparing a reply to an office action on a patent application. This particular patent examiner had a ridiculous notion of what was obvious -- it was as if any use of a resister was obvious, no matter what it was combined with.

"Someone is here to consult with you, a young lady who has identified herself as Alima al-Hamdani."

Her name sounded Arabic or something similar. "Send her in," said Glenn, saving his work and iconifying the window.

The young lady who entered was dressed in an elaborate full-covering outfit. Her face, hands, and sandal-covered feet were her only visible parts. Glenn stood up and held his hand out for a handshake, which she shook firmly.

"Good afternoon, Miss al-Hamdani," Glenn tried to pronounce it right.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Matsumoto. I found this card planted on me a couple nights ago. It had your name and this office address, and -- well, look." She handed me the card. Yes, it was one of my cards. Something was written on the back. I recognized Ellen's handwriting: "Don't act hastily. Consult a lawyer or a counselor"

It sounded serious. Glenn decided to give his standard introductory speech. "Okay, there are standard issues an attorney must inform a prospective client. First, this initial consultation obligates neither of us. You don't have to retain me as a lawyer, and I don't have to take you as a client."

"I just don't know what to do," said Miss al-Hamdani.

"You don't have to decide just yet. Hopefully, this consultation will help you decide. This leads to the second: client confidentiality. I am required to hold what you tell me in confidence. You understand what that means?"

"You're not supposed to tell anyone what I tell you."

"That is correct, for the most part. What you tell me -- even the most innocent of things -- I mustn't discuss with others ordinarily. In fact, well-known information that I discover in the course of investigation is also confidential. There are certain exceptions. For example, if I retain the services of another for your case, I may disclose information necessary for his services. I'm also required to bind him to confidentiality

"If certain things embarrass you -- well, I'm not here to judge, I'm here to advise and help you. And I have to hold that in confidence. On the other hand, the law may require me to report certain things. If we appear to approach such a situation, I will inform you."

"What kind of things?" she asked.

"Information about any crime or offense in the past is confidential -- although if evidence is damaged or moved when I inspect it, I may have to tell the prosecution about it. If we get to actual criminal defense, I will have to refer you to a criminal defense attorney, as I am not confident in my abilities in criminal defense.

"It's also fine to ask, and for me to tell you, of the legality and legal consequences of any act. I am not allowed to help you commit a crime. I might be required to report if necessary to prevent a crime."

"I am allowed certain disclosures to receive my fee, although blackmail isn't allowed. And I believe that it's important to discuss the fee right off the bat." Glenn thought back to a CLE course, where an attorney had the practice of informing a prospective client that he could focus only on one thing at a time: either the client's case, or the client's fee. Glenn himself thought that went too far, and technically would be false if an attorney was involved with more than one case simultaneously. Nevertheless, he agreed that discussing the fee right off the bat was important. "It has to be established once and for all whether I'm taking a standard-fee case, a discounted-fee case, a contingency-fee case, a pro-bono case, or any other situation.

"My standard billing rate is $250 per hour plus expenses," Glenn began. He and Ms. al-Hamdani discussed the fees the next few minutes. Apparently, she wasn't concerned about her fee; she had enough from her father to cover it.

Then she introduced herself, and described her situation. "My full name is Alima bint Salim ibn Yaman al-Hamdani, although I go by Alima al-Hamdani. I have reason for wearing this, and for telling you my full name. My father is one of the important and wealthy personages of Saudi Arabia."

It occurred to Glenn that her father might not approve of college culture here, and that she feared being in considerable trouble. He continued listening to her story.

"I was sent to the University here because of its expertise in a particular academic field." She didn't mention that area, and while Glenn knew that the University was expert in various fields, as far as he knew, numerous other colleges and universities were experts in those same fields.

"I lived in a women-only private dormitory, just off campus. When I first arrived a year ago -- I'm a sophomore now -- I was shocked at how American women dressed and displayed themselves. But I gradually became accustomed to it, and began to adopt it myself. Last spring, I finally even got to wearing shorts and tee-shirts and tank-tops -- over spring vacation and continuing through the rest of the semester.

"The problem is that someone got photographs of me in those revealing clothes."

Glenn answered, "You understand, I assume, that people take pictures all the time -- innocent pictures of friends, people doing things, the area, who knows what. People are beginning to post them on the internet, or the World Wide Web as it's known."

"I realize that now," said Alima, almost in tears. She produced a large envelope. "A man came up to me as I was studying in the library, and indicated he knew my true field of study here. His offer sounded great: a part-time job with his company during the year, practical training in my field, full payment of my university tuition, full-time summer job, and a full-time job at the company upon graduation."

As she paused, Glenn said, "I noticed the phrase you used: `true field of study'. You might explain what you mean."

"I wish to avoid stating it if possible, but the University offers majors that are confidential and kept off the official transcripts and grade reports, but are recorded in separate records. I have a second public major, which covers the true major. In my case, it's chemistry."

"In other words," said Glenn. "You effectively have a double major. Okay, I'll see if I don't need your true major. So what happened next?"

"I had the sense that the man was evil and dangerous, and that the job would entail doing evil. I don't need any actual income, or support for my studies. I initially said I'd think about it, and he gave me a way of contacting him. I eventually declined his offer, but then I received this." She pulled out several photos, looking seriously embarrassed as she did. They showed her at the University walking, talking with friends including men, sitting and reading, standing and cheering at a sports event -- photographs of the wholly innocent activity of a college student. She was wearing shorts and either tee-shirts or tank-tops. "I never really realized how I was exposing myself to the world and to men." She blushed. "This card accompanied the pictures."

Glenn read the short letter. "Dear Miss al-Hamdani. I think that your father and his business associates would be quite interested in your collegiate extra-curricular activities. The offer still stands. By the way, you have lovely long legs."

Glenn was beginning to understand the problem. "If you weren't from Saudi Arabia or that area, I would tell you that there wasn't a problem. Even young ladies from China would have no problem. But Saudi Arabia." Glenn shivered.

"My father will drag me back home and whip me!" She burst out crying.

Glenn gently and carefully put his hand on her shoulder. Sometimes, he knew how to deal with a crying client, although they were rare because he was rarely consulted outside IP law. But this time, he wasn't at all sure how far one should go to comfort her, given her background culture and upbringing

"Did the man identify himself?" Glenn asked, unsure of where to begin, but knowing he had to begin somewhere.

"No. I'm sure I'd recognize him if I saw him again."

"What about his company?"

"He never named it. It was always his company or his firm."

"Sounds like a good reason not to take his offer. It seems as if the only thing we have about his offer is his blackmail."

"I also have his familiarity with my real field of study, which I could detect was genuine. He seemed quite powerful. And he didn't seem good. Okay, I might as well tell you, even if I'm not supposed to, even if it sounds ridiculous. The field is applied magic."

"I assume you're not referring to the methods of stage magicians and tricksters, illusion, distraction, slight-of-hand -- basically, standard magician's tricks."

"No, not that," said Alima. "It's the real thing."

"Is there any connection with Bikini Beach?" asked Glenn, thinking back on his wife's encounter ten years earlier.

"No, not that I know of. I've heard talk of Bikini Beach, among my fellow students and instructors. From what I've gathered, anyone from there trying to recruit me would be a woman. Not that you'd catch me anywhere near that place. I'd never wear a bikini!" she shuddered.

"Did anyone see you talking with that man?"

"I don't know. I can find out."

"That sounds like a good thing to do. At least, it will give you something to do, which helps with feelings of powerlessness and anxiety. You might want to discuss it with a trusted instructor or faculty member. In fact, he or she may be able to do more than me, or give better advice than me."

"Thanks. I'll try that."

"I'll summarize the issues as I see them. We have blackmail, a crime. We have your father and his business associates potentially seeing you in ordinary college dress -- severe embarrassment and the possibility of aggravated assault and kidnapping. I assume you are in the country legally as a college student, and that you are at least eighteen years old." She nodded. "So dragging you home unwillingly would be kidnapping, even if committed on behalf of your family.

"In short. The law is on your side. The law usually doesn't pay attention to severe embarrassment, but that's an aspect of blackmail.

"Now here's the bad news: enforcement of the law. I don't think we can prevent anyone from sending the pictures to your father or whoever they choose. Second, if it involves magic, it's probably beyond the reach of the law. Third, extreme wealth can also sabotage law enforcement. So I can't really offer much hope, and I am seriously not sure I or anyone in the legal field can do much."

"I was afraid of that," said Alima. "At least, you didn't ridicule me about the magic business. Can I wait to decide whether to retain you?"

"Certainly," answered Glenn.

Alima reached into a pocket and pulled out a stack of bills bound by several rubber bands, and pulled off a $100 bill. "I think this should cover today. Looks like it will approach 24 minutes."

"Thank you, that's just about right," said Glenn, as he wrote out a receipt for the payment. He thought of warning her to be careful about carrying the money, but then decided that as a mage, Alima was better protected from pickpocketing than the ordinary person. "I should mention, if you pay my retainer in cash -- that's $15,000 -- I have to report the payment to the Federal government. That won't be a problem though, as they probably have a huge number of reports to go through."

Glenn and Alima stood up simultaneously, and shook hands. "Good day," said Glenn, echoed by Alima.

Alima departed, and Glenn set about creating a new case folder, with a new client number and case number. It didn't matter that she hadn't yet retained him; he needed it for his notes and records of the consultation. He wrote up the information Darline needed, and went out to give it to her. "Here is info on the young lady's case," he told her.

"Thank you," she replied.

Back in his office, Glen thought to himself, `Okay, back to the office action.' He spent the next hour completing his reply. That would be another $250 billed to the client.

His reply finished and addressed to the USPTO, Glenn left his office. He extracted his pocket notebook, and looked up his client and the case number. "Darline, I'm going to drop my reply for case 25-09 into the mail, and then go for a short walk. I'll be back within half an hour."

"Enjoy your break," replied Darline, as she continued with her work.

At the ground floor mail drop-off, Glenn deposited the letter through the mail slot, then marked in his notebook the date and time for that case.

Then he went for his walk.

Alima's consultation reminded him how little power he had, even as a lawyer. He thought back anew on his patent client who was murdered a couple years earlier He was sure who was behind the murder, and he'd even been able to provide some information for police investigators to follow. It wasn't enough. The police had taken for consideration and a possible lead, the earlier attack on him and his wife Ellen. They'd both survived uninjured, because of Ellen and her dark martial arts practice. Glenn had helped a little in the defense. Unfortunately, the attackers had all vanished.

He returned to his office very much unrefreshed, but resigned to the notion that he had to do what he could, and let the chips fall where they may.

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

AUNT YUKO WAS DUE to pick up Tracy for Bikini Beach, and Peter was due to pick me up for home, both between 4:30 and 5:00, both at the same place. We went there together to await them.

Aunt Yuko arrived first in her little car. As Tracy promptly got in the car, Aunt Yuko greeted both Bruce and me. She really did resemble an older version of Tracy. I tried to banish the thought of them prancing about in bikinis, by thinking about Daisy. I really did want to see her again. Funny, imagining her in a bikini wasn't interesting or exciting; imagining her in shorts and tee-shirt was so much more interesting.

Peter came shortly after, and we went home.

During dinner, Daisy's dad called. Ma answered the phone. "It's Mr. Matsumoto. He's asking for Luke," she said quickly as Peter rose. "He wants Luke to babysit Daisy Friday night." Surprised and anxious, I went to the phone.

"Hello, Mr. Matsumoto?"

"Hello, Luke. We're going out again Friday night, and Daisy requested you as her babysitter, if you can make it."

"Me? Oh, sure, sure, I can do it." I couldn't help stammering. I was elated to babysit Daisy again, but also very uncertain, very nervous, afraid I might do something horribly wrong.

"Fine," he said. "I'll see you Friday night. Good night."

"Good night," I echoed.

Peter said, "Sounds as if you got it made, Luke."

I was looking forward to seeing Daisy again, and I hoped, really hoped, that nobody would notice my thing about Daisy.

Unfortunately, after we finished eating, I had to dress up in my tight, uncomfortable suit, because we had to go to the Wednesday evening meeting at Church. Peter couldn't go. Some months back, he was barred from the church. I never knew why, although I'd heard Peter arguing several times, in Sunday School class, at Church Services, and at least once after a Wednesday evening meeting. But I had to go.

Most children in the church didn't have to go to the Wednesday evening meetings. I thought it very unfair that I had to go. The first section, consisting primarily of the First Reader's readings, was mercifully short. The Bible readings were actually interesting; the "Science and Health" readings not so much. The hymns were fine, too -- especially the ones that I knew, such as the hymns by Mrs. Eddy.

The second part was by far the most boring, here, the meeting was open to testimonies of Christian Science healings and other demonstrations of Christian Science, and comments on Christian Science. Not only was I simply bored sitting there, but I was terrified of the time surely approaching that I would be expected to give my own testimonial.

An old woman stood up, and was acknowledged with a smile by the First Reader. "I am very grateful for Mary Baker Eddy's discovery. I have been blessed with numerous demonstrations over the years. Several years back, I was walking down the street. A young man going the other way, on the other side of the street, seemed vaguely familiar. The next day, I had occasion to visit the police station. That very man had been arrested and was being booked in. An officer informed me that he was a known serial rapist and killer."

Talk of rape was really embarrassing for me, sitting next to my parents.

"He was even then being booked for attacking a young lady. I went up and asked him why he didn't attack me when we passed by each other the previous day. He answered, `There's no way I'd attack anyone guarded by two huge men holding giant swords.' I understood then how I was protected by God, whom Mrs. Eddy describes as an ever-present help in trouble.

"I am so grateful for God and Mrs. Eddy, for the many blessings I've received."

The woman sat down. "Thank you," said the First Reader.

That testimonial was really scary. I just couldn't imagine it. I wondered, though, how the young man recognized her as the same woman guarded by the huge men, when presumably many people might have been walking.

There were a few other testimonials, separated by long boring time intervals.

Eventually, the service ended with the final hymn. When the hymn was over, many people got up to leave. Mom, Dad, and I stayed a couple minutes, listening to the organ music.

One of the few children attending the service was a little girl, leaning against her grandfather, in the back bench of the church. I vaguely recognized her from Sunday School, and I remembered her grandfather's testimony from a month or so back. The girl was visiting for the summer.

We got home, and I went up to my bedroom, changed into pajamas, and slipped out "Lace", the sexy novel I'd checked out. The opening scene, the Prologue, I found incredibly exciting, describing an abortion. Even so, I felt a little ashamed because the girl found it painful, but I couldn't help being excited by it. I kept reading through it several times.

Finally, I went on to the first chapter of the first part of the book, set fifteen years later: long-winded descriptions of four highly-successful ladies unwittingly converging to a surprise reunion as former close schoolgirl friends at a Swiss boarding school. The abortion girl, Lili, now a famous movie star, confronts them with the advertised line, "Which one of you bitches is my mother?"

That ended the chapter, and I decided to put a marker in and slip the book under my bed, and go to bed. I got caught up in fantasizing and masturbating about the opening scene. Fearful and guilty, especially since it was a church night, I cleaned out my briefs and put new ones on, before finally settling down to sleep.

        Thursday, July 31

I both dreaded and looked forward to Friday night babysitting Daisy. I went to the library hoping to see that girl Carol again, but without success. I didn't see Bruce at the mall, either. I briefly thought of Tracy in a bikini at Bikini Beach. I returned home, and helped Ma with housework. I also read more of "Lace" -- about the four schoolgirls meeting in Switzerland, and some of their backgrounds. One of the girls was nice enough to have a lesbian sex scene in her background. I kept rereading that scene, to make sure I got the whole story and understood it properly.

It was quite interesting to read about the young ladies at school worrying about their breasts and other aspects of their bodies, fantasizing about their dream Prince Charming and dream wedding, and never admitting to knowing nothing about the subject to avoid appearing unsophisticated. The four friends were joined by an older boy who delighted in playing big brother to them.

I was furious at what the finishing school headmaster did if a girl was caught outside at night. The girl was expelled -- unless her parents paid hush-money. Typically, the parents were extremely wealthy, and the amounts demanded were sufficiently insignificant -- such as an extra year of tuition -- that the headmaster wasn't in danger of being caught at blackmail. Or a girl may be seduced and photographed -- and then the parents blackmailed. Unless things were kept completely under wraps, the girl was defiled forever from a good marriage.

I read over and over again a paragraph of unwitting past orgasmic experiences of the girls -- be it religious ecstasy in Scripture class, the thrill of the ride on a galloping horse, or being buzzed frozen at the top of the climbing ropes in physical education. I felt particularly embarrassed for the latter girl, especially when the book suggested that this was a totally familiar occurrence for the instructor. Her story took the whole last half of the paragraph.

I eventually went on, to read about one of the girls winning a competition at the first ballroom dance -- because the big brother cheated. I got quite caught up in the story overall, and couldn't help pausing to relieve myself on occasion. It had quite a meaty story.

I tried to keep as quiet as possible, using up quite a bit of Kleenex, and made sure my window was wide open. I made sure to clean myself off and wear a fresh pair of briefs when I went down for dinner.

        Friday, August 1

Friday morning, I had my weekly clarinet lesson, followed by Taekwondo. Before leaving for the library and the mall, I practiced both clarinet and piano. As usual, I wore my TKD uniform. I still didn't find Carol at the library, but at the mall, I spotted Tracy and Bruce in the hallway before they saw me.

I slowed down, my jaw dropped, and my eyes bulged out. Tracy was wearing nylon short-shorts, a bikini top, and flip-flops. Unfortunately, my white TKD top wasn't enough to conceal my sudden tenting. I'd never seen Tracy dressed like that before.

"Hey, Luke!" she called out. I couldn't respond, although I did approach them. She giggled. "Are you shocked to the core, or are you happy to see me?" I still couldn't respond, even when she gave me a quick hug. She stepped back and giggled again. "Bruce was just as bad when he saw me. You can still tell, even now." I glanced down at Bruce; his jeans had a small tent.

"Thanks a lot, Tracy," said Bruce. "Mom and Dad would -- something -- if they ever knew Tracy dressed like this in public except in a gymnasium or swimming place."

"You invited me to show up in a bikini, a couple days ago. So I wore this underneath a dress," said Tracy. "As soon as I reached the mall, I used the ladies room and removed the dress and stuffed it in here." She indicated her purse. "Bruce got it really bad when I came back out in this. I think he's beginning to realize I'm a girl, rather than just thinking of me as his sister."

"Let's just keep that to ourselves, thank you," said Bruce, blushing.

"You don't mean to say that Bruce didn't know that his sister was a girl?" I asked.

"Enough, Luke, enough!" exclaimed Bruce.

Tracy took both our arms in hers, and we began walking. I think I was still in shock, and was perpetually conscious of Tracy and her presence. I almost missed it when Bruce said, "Oh my, those redheads there!" They were walking together toward us, both in jeans, the younger one about our age with a halter top.

As they passed, I met their eyes and gave them a quick smile before we went on our ways. I guess my mind was too much on Tracy between Bruce and me.

Another time, Bruce spotted a tall man in tight jeans and a short stomach-baring tank-top. His stomach and chest formed the perfect six-pack, and his biceps continually rippled. He was sitting alone on a bench. "There's a hot specimen, Tracy," he said. "You might want to go up and introduce yourself to him."

"Bruce," replied Tracy, holding us tighter to her. "I'm already sandwiched between two hot guys," she answered breathlessly. "It's practically paradise!"

"Come on, I'm your brother!" said Bruce. Meanwhile, I was floating in the stratosphere. I tried working my arm around Tracy's bare waist.

"Hey, that didn't matter when you went bug-eyed over my outfit," replied Tracy. "Stop that, Luke!" Brought back down to Earth, I pulled my arm back to between us, where she could hold it or not as she wished.

I also noticed we were getting numerous stares, often from girls I'd normally be instantly attracted to, and I was gradually feeling more and more uncomfortable. Sometimes I managed to deflate things by briefly smiling at the girls.

It was shortly time for my clarinet lesson, so I bid my friends a friendly adieu, and headed off toward Shandy's. I assembled my clarinet while I waited for the saxophone lesson to end, and when the girl came out, she greeted me with "Hi, Luke."

"Hi... I don't recall your name, sorry," I was a bit embarrassed to say.

"Oh, I'm Meredith. I only know your name because I asked Mr. Oregon just before leaving today."

"Hi, Meredith. I'm pleased to meet you." I couldn't help smiling a giddy grin.

We couldn't talk further, because Mr. Oregon emerged for me. All we could do was bid each other good day. I had my usual clarinet lesson -- me tripping over fast fingering and fast tonguing. At one point, he commented that he could hear slight crescendos and decrescendos, and slight differences between piano and forte. He pointed out, "One really has to feel as if he's exaggerating the differences. Eventually, with experience, one realizes that it's no exaggeration." I tried an extreme crescendo at one of the passages right then. I thought I sounded awful, but he said, "Very good, that's close to what's needed."

After the clarinet lesson, I went to Taekwondo class. Bruce and Tracy joined me on the way. Tracy had changed into a spaghetti-strap summer dress, partly transparent to her bikini top. I could also just barely see her shorts through the dress if I looked carefully. "I had enough of everyone's eyes on me," she said. I was relieved. I would have been embarrassed if Peter had seen Tracy in her skimpy outfit.

After class, Peter came up to us as I joined Tracy and Bruce. "Hi Tracy, Bruce. Luke, don't forget that you're babysitting Daisy tonight."

"I won't forget," I answered. It was always at the back of my mind.

        Friday Night Babysitting

That night after dinner, I briefly considered bringing "Lace" with me, to read after Daisy was in bed, but I didn't want anyone catching me with that book. Instead, I brought a knapsack with my geometry textbook and writing material, hoping I might be able to persuade myself to actually work on it.

I nervously rang the doorbell, and heard sounds of someone running inside. The door opened and Daisy glommed onto me. "Luke!" I lifted her up again. "Wonderful to see you again."

Mr. Matsumoto appeared shortly after. I was reminded of the thing about removing shoes, and I tried to use one foot to remove the shoe from the other, without success. "Don't worry about your shoes," said Mr. Matsumoto. "It's not important. You're early."

"I wanted to make sure I was on time," I said.

"Excellent work ethic and business sense," said Mr. Matsumoto. "Ellen is still upstairs getting ready."

"Let's go downstairs, Luke!" said Daisy, so I let her down and let her lead me to the basement. We got into a game on their computers, and I heard in the back of my mind the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto.

I was so caught up in the game that before I knew it, it was already 9:30. I found a nice stopping point a few minutes later and told Daisy, "I think it's close to bedtime. Get ready for bed, and I'll finish reading the book, okay?"

"Okay." Daisy rushed upstairs, and I followed her more slowly. She was still in her bath when I reached her room. I got out "A Wrinkle in Time," which I'd only gotten halfway through on Monday. I also found another book, "Support Your Local Wizard" by Diane Duane, just in case we finished the first story.

When Daisy came in from her bath, I asked her, "Daisy, if we finish the book, would this book be okay?"

"I started it once," she said. "I couldn't get into it. I'm sure if you read it to me, it would be so much better." She smiled as she said that.

Before continuing with "A Wrinkle in Time", I said, "When I was your age, the section coming up gave me a couple nightmares."

"Oh I know," she said. "It's really scary and creepy and all. But you'll protect me from nightmares."

"I get my own nightmares. I don't know how to protect people from nightmares, sorry. But if you have a nightmare, I'm here with you."

She turned off the light, got in bed, and turned on a small reading lamp next to her bed. I sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, and began reading a page before the point I left off Monday.

It turned out that she was asleep just before Meg's return to Camazotz to face IT. I turned off the reading light. The room would have been almost pitch dark, if not for the nightlight, as its window looked over the back yard from the second floor of the house.

I parked myself next to the night light, turned on my flashlight, and did a few geometry problems, making it about half-way through the chapter.

I might have dozed off, but I came alert when I heard Daisy softly crying. I crawled over next to the bed and whispered, "Daisy?" I couldn't bear to see her cry like that, so I reached over and put my arms around her.

She continued weeping softly as she whispered, "Nightmare. Someone, a friend, disappeared. I just *knew* I'd never see or hear of her again." She cried some more. "That's all I remember."

"You had that nightmare on Monday, too," I whispered.

"Last night, too," said Daisy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I said. Having the same nightmare over and over again was simply awful! Daisy briefly hugged me hard, before letting up. I slid down to the floor...

        Saturday Morning, August 2

... and woke up. I was on the floor in my clothes, with a blanket over me, lying next to a bed. It took a moment to realize, yikes! I was still in Daisy's room! I sat up and looked around; Daisy was nowhere to be seen.

I was going to be in so much trouble with Daisy's parents. I should have been awake when they got home. I should have been out of Daisy's bedroom. I couldn't help it; I was terrified.

Daisy, already dressed in tee-shirt and shorts, returned. "Up, sleepyhead. Breakfast's downstairs."

"Just a minute, I have to go to the bathroom." I jumped up, letting the blanket fall off me, and stepped across the hallway to the bathroom. It took a little while to relieve myself.

Fearfully, I followed Daisy downstairs to the kitchen. I first saw Mr. Matsumoto reading the newspaper at the table. Then -- oh my! I froze, unable to help staring, my jaw somewhere on the floor! Mrs. Matsumoto, was that she at the cupboards? Good thing I was wearing jeans, which didn't tent as much as other pants would, but still... Pretty, lovely, hot, cool, sexy, exotic, erotic, you name it, she was it. Her soft, furry, peach-colored, long-sleeved, short-short pajamas didn't help, showing leg all the way down.

I was having a hard time breathing, and I was feeling faint.

"Good morning, Luke," she said. "Have a seat, breakfast is ready and waiting."

I was plowing through molasses as I sat down, unable to keep my eyes off her, or my jaw off the floor.

I only barely felt small hands pulling my hair and shoving my jaw back up into my face, trying to twist my head around. I heard a distant voice, "Luke!" Whose voice was that? And what was a Luke? "I'm over here! Luke! Please, look at me. Luke? Luke? Are you in there, Luke?" The words made no sense; the voice was fading out.

I suddenly took an involuntary breath, and then another. "Daisy!"

We both pulled back simultaneously. It looked as if I were kissing Daisy hard right in front of her parents. I was dead now.

"You were fading away," said Daisy. "Mom and Dad told me to use arti-fi-cial res-pir-ation on you." I looked over, and her dad nodded. I didn't dare look at her mom again. "I want you to stare at me, not Mom," she said. "Now you know why I didn't let you see Mom before."

Her mom placed a plateful of scrambled eggs in front of me, along with toast and sausage patties. It smelled wonderful. Daisy climbed back to her own chair next to mine, to let me eat. "Thank you, Mrs. Matsumoto. This looks wonderful!" It smelled wonderful, too. I dug in. All the time, I still tried to see Mrs. Matsumoto as little as possible.

"It seems as if you've supplanted Peter as Daisy's favorite babysitter," said Mr. Matsumoto.

I replied, "I never babysat anyone before. I didn't know anything about it. Still don't."

"You seem to be a natural," said Mr. Matsumoto.

I wondered about that. "I thought they weren't supposed to fall asleep, and were supposed to return home when the parents returned." Also, babysitters, as far as I knew, didn't usually kiss their babysittees -- especially in front of their parents. I didn't mention that, though.

Daisy said, "Luke comforted me after a nightmare last night."

"I'm concerned," I said. "It seems she had the same nightmare Monday night and the night before last."

"What kind of nightmares?" asked Mrs. Matsumoto.

"I can't really remember," said Daisy. "I just remember waking up very sad and crying."

"From what she said last night, it's about some very close friend who completely vanished, or died," I said. "I wonder if something's behind the nightmare."

"Did she have that nightmare earlier? I mean, before Monday?" asked Mrs. Matsumoto.

"No, I don't remember having any such nightmares earlier," said Daisy.

"I wish I knew how to look into that," said Mr. Matsumoto. "Oh, by the way, I called your parents this morning, and told them that you were still here, sleeping. We'd got home very late, and let you sleep."

When we finished breakfast, Daisy said, "Luke, let's go downstairs and play a game!"

"Daisy," said her mom. "Luke has his own life. He might have plans for the day. Also, he should return home and let his parents know he's okay."

"Awww," said Daisy. "Oh, well. I'm going out to play! See-ya, Luke!" She started off, then turned back and gave me a quick hug.

Playing with Daisy, now. As long as nobody my age found out, that sounded neat.

"I think I'd better get home now, and face Ma and Pa."

"That would be a good idea. But first." Mr. Matsumoto grabbed his wallet and counted out and handed me -- oh my, I had never held so much cash in my hand.

"This much, really? I really shouldn't..."

"Absolutely, young man. I pay well for good work," he said.

"Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" I gasped out hyperly.

I went home, to let Ma and Pa know I was okay. Thank goodness, Daisy's parents had already told them. I was still feeling a bit scared and guilty.

Neither Pa nor Ma were upset. Peter was already out and about somewhere. "Mr. Matsumoto called us and told us. They were out later than expected, and were letting you sleep. I take it you had breakfast there."

"Yes. It was good," I said.

"Bruce also called," said Ma. "He said he was going to the library. He wants you to call back. But first, you have to listen to the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon."

I sighed. That was going to be a boring half-hour. Peter had admitted to me that one thing he wouldn't miss going to Pacific Tech this fall was this daily ritual. It was all the worse because Pa and I had recorded the Lesson on Monday, and I sounded terrible.

When the Lesson ended (finally!) I called Bruce at his home. His mom answered the phone. "Hello, Luke. Bruce is at the library, and he wants you to meet him there.

"And bring your swimsuit."

Bruce and Luke decide to surprise Tracy, and get a surprise of their own. The consequences last well beyond that day.

        Disclaimer

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

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.

        Saturday Morning, August 2

Confused about Bruce's summons, I went to my room, got my knapsack, put a few books in to return, and put in my swimsuit wrapped in a towel. I hoped Ma wouldn't notice anything strange. I wished I'd asked what the heck I was going to do with a swimsuit at the library.

"Ma, I'm off to the library, okay?"

"Fine, see you later," answered Ma.

It was a nice walk, about a mile, to the library. I found Bruce waiting right at the main entrance.

"Hey, you made it! Let's head off to the transit center, and I'll tell you what's happening."

"First, let me dump these books in the return bin," I said, as I did so.

We started off. "So what's going on?" I asked.

"We're going to Bikini Beach. We're going to surprise Tracy there."

"Wait a minute. Bikini Beach is still a girls-only water park, right? What are we going to do? Pose as girls? Girls in bikinis?"

Bruce laughed. "No. Remember that Tracy said that they do admit boys. I admit, I don't know what's going on, but I thought we'd surprise her. Mom thought it was a good idea. Dad doesn't know, of course. Mom's paying for both our guest memberships."

I got apprehensive. Should I really accept such a gift? Might I get in trouble or something?

The transit center had two buses to Bikini Beach, and from the looks of things, both were going to overflow. The vast majority were girls, and many were already in swimwear, mostly underneath t-shirts or sun-dresses. To my relief, we weren't the only boys.

I'd seen their buses go by, but I'd never ridden them. This was a new experience for me. It seemed like Bruce was familiar with them, though.

I glanced at a girl in a t-shirt over her swimsuit, about my age plus-or-minus a year. She flashed me a quick smile, sending me sky-high. I spent the next few minutes trying to work up the nerve to go over and talk to her.

Bruce paid for my bus trip with his bus-card, when we boarded. Both of us were left standing on the bus. I kept looking around at all the girls and women. A girl, several years older, standing in front of us, turned to us and asked, "Is this your first visit to Bikini Beach?"

"Yeah," I answered.

Bruce continued, "We're going to surprise my sister there. She's been urging us to visit Bikini Beach, ever since she began going over a month ago."

"I see. Well, enjoy your surprise, guys." She smiled and winked.

We got to Bikini Beach in good time, and got into a line for passes. The lines directly to the turnstiles were even longer and there were more of them, but moved much faster. Despite the crowd, we reached the ticket booth in fairly short order.

"This is a private park," said the lady at the booth, "exclusive for members. We do sell guest memberships for various periods of duration. Now, for example, we're offering a special on three-week memberships."

I let Bruce do the work and make the decisions, because he was paying. We both wound up with three-week memberships. "Shower after you change," said the saleslady. "It's a health requirement."

The men's changing room was very small. I was a bit surprised to find the men's changing room empty, even though some college men had entered only a couple minutes earlier. We both found lockers. I picked one rather far from Bruce, as I always wanted privacy when changing.

I turned on the shower, and was enjoying the soothing water with the pink-tinted mist, when I realized I was feeling really strange, impossible-to-describe creepy. Let's just say that no boy who has never found himself in a girl's body has any concept of what it feels like. I felt as if I were wearing low-rise briefs with unnaturally smooth fronts covering my own unnaturally smooth front. I'd never worn underwear this small. This just wrapped around my hips at the middle, leaving my waist completely bare.

I kept trying in vain to pull them up properly, and the material rubbing between my legs almost felt as if I were masturbating; I was getting strangely excited. I'd definitely enjoy it alone, but not with Bruce nearby, or with someone else potentially entering the room.

I heard the shriek of a familiar voice, followed by serious crying. Tracy? What was she doing here? Was she okay? I ran to the shower the sound came from, where I thought Bruce had gone. I saw Tracy, in only a bikini bottom, crying and pounding the wall.

"Tracy!" I exclaimed.

"I'm not Tracy, I'm Becky!" she exclaimed as she turned toward me. "No, I'm Becky, I mean, I'm Becky -- no, no, no!" She collapsed, now crying in apparent despair.

I realized that I had to postpone my own freak-out, and help Bruce get ahold of himself. I slipped down to the floor, and took him or her in my arms, and let her cry herself out.

I think we both noticed at the same time, that Bruce, or Becky now, was crying into my bare breasts. We both simultaneously blushed and pulled away -- and then burst out in giggles.

"We never held each other like this as boys, naked or clothed," she said. "We must really be girls now, Lucy. And why did I think of you as Lucy just then?"

We helped each other up. "I take it that you weren't actually trying to say Lucy -- I mean--" I stopped, realizing the futility of trying to say it. "You weren't trying to say the L-word," I finished. We both giggled.

"No, I really meant Lucy this time, not like before, when I was trying to say -- the B-R-word." We giggled again, breaking into hysterics.

"Are we feeling better now? I guess misery really does love company," I said.

"Yeah, and life really does imitate farce," Becky followed up. "I mean, I actually joked that Bikini Beach was for girls only!" She giggled. "And I didn't want to be a girl!" We both laughed.

"I wonder," I said. "Are we supposed to shower again this evening so that we return home as ourselves as boys?"

"And repeat every time we come to Bikini Beach? We have three-week passes, you know. Oh, and I just realized," Becky continued. "These are ordinary bikini bottoms. Girls actually go out in public in these?" She scrunched her nose.

"This is a girls-only waterpark. I guess that means girls are allowed to swim topless," I said.

"No, not at all, young ladies," came an unexpected third voice, that of an elderly lady. I shrieked like a girl, and leaped to a shelf of towels, tossing one to Becky and whipping another around my waist.

"Come-come now," said the elderly lady. "Don't be such drama queens. I've seen it all before, many times."

"Not on us, you haven't!" said Becky.

The elderly lady sighed. "In any case, no, we don't allow patrons to go topless here. Here are your tops; put them on." She tossed us our matching bikini tops. I had trouble putting mine on while holding my towel around my waist. Becky shrieked as she dropped her towel while putting on her top.

"Okay, young ladies," the elderly lady continued. "I have to explain certain things. I overheard part of your conversation, and you got quite a bit wrong. It's important to listen and comprehend -- in particular for you, Becky, as you'll discover that not only do you resemble your twin sister, you'll think and behave like her.

"First, you will remain girls until the night after your pass expires. In your case, that's three weeks. Caution, though: if you become pregnant during the period, your change is permanent. You will live the rest of your life as a girl and woman. Both of you have the Pill. Take it daily."

This talk of pregnancy and, by implication, sex was really embarrassing, especially coming from an elderly lady. I was blushing and at a loss for words. Pa and Ma would never get me the Pill -- no way whatsoever. It wasn't just the sex. Ma and Pa were against pills in principle as contrary to Christian Science -- relying on Materia Medica and material means to heal sickness rather than recognizing that God never created sickness.

There was that time, I was seven or eight, when I went on a field trip. A classmate's mom drove a few of us, and I noticed that I was feeling rather nauseated -- even if I didn't know the word. The mom called it "car sickness" and stopped and gave me and another kid half an aspirin. It felt so really really wrong, taking that half pill. Even though I felt better afterwards, I knew I'd been naughty in taking the pill -- influenced by Error. I felt guilty for the longest time afterwards.

"Becky, your mom put you on the Pill the same time she did Tracy," continued the elderly lady. "Lucy, I realize your parents would never get you the Pill. Your pill disc is hidden somewhere only you know, although your Ma would find it if she decided to snoop through your belongings.

"You both know your new names, and you've discovered that you can't say your male names. In fact, taken out of context, you sounded like a couple of giggling little children who've discovered a couple new words and concepts.

"This was a reality-shift. That means you were always Lucy and Becky, to your family, friends, acquaintances, and the rest of the world." Oh God, my family! I couldn't face them like this; I simply couldn't! And Pa hated girls displaying themselves in bikinis, too! "You have a whole history behind you, in many ways similar to your history as boys, but different in many ways as well. Only the two of you will remember your boy lives."

Was this mental malpractice, by any chance? Animal magnetism, hypnotism, and so forth? Even if I could distinguish between false memories and true memories, according to the elderly lady, Ma and Pa and Peter wouldn't; They would only have the false memories.

"One last thing," said the elderly lady, tossing me a tube of sunscreen. "Lucy, you don't want to get sunburnt. Apply this lavishly. Enjoy your stay at Bikini Beach, both of you."

On that note, the elderly lady departed.

I began letting my towel fall, but grabbed it and held it up when I saw Becky to the side. Finally I steeled myself and let the towel drop, exposing myself in my bikini. Her towel was already on the floor, and we'd already seen each other in bikini bottoms.

"How am I ever to go outside like this?" I wondered softly, mostly to myself.

"I dunno," said Becky. "It seems exciting in a sense, to go out and expose myself like this. Deliciously, excitedly forbidden." She quietly giggled.

"Forbidden is right," I said angrily. "If Pa catches me like this, I'm dead. I'm practically naked!" This bikini top the old lady tossed us was mere nitpicking. Pa hated it when girls and ladies exhibited themselves in public. I never had any idea I'd potentially be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"Anyways, I'm going to take her advice, and put this sunscreen on." I promptly opened the tube and smeared the stuff all over my body. Surprisingly, the arms of this new body of mine had no trouble reaching my back.

"Don't forget your neck, your face and nose, your ears, behind your ears," said Becky.

"You sound like Ma," I told her, as I took her advice. She giggled, and asked, "May I use it now?" when I finished. I handed it to her, and she smothered herself with it, too.

She handed the remaining sunscreen back to me, and asked, "Shall we take the plunge now?"

"Yeah," I hesitated. "But we'll have to return it before we go home tonight."

"Huh?" she said, then began giggling until she dissolved into full-fledged laughter. The joke wasn't original; I'd read it somewhere. Then she said, "Actually, we can't take the plunge until we find a pool or pond somewhere."

That set us both off in more laughter and giggles. I just had to go over and briefly hug her, after which she took my hand and said, "Let's go."

We opened the door. The sudden brightness momentarily blinded me, but once that cleared up, I had my first view of Bikini Beach.

"Wow!" Becky breathed softly.

Well, at least most of the girls and women were in bikinis like the ones we wore. They seemed to have no problem going around in public like that. Apparently, my small bikini bottom was normal for girls, and having grown up with them all their lives, didn't know how exposing they were. On the other hand, I always wore knee-length swimming trunks to swim in, and underwear three times as high under my pants, and I felt awfully naked and exposed.

"I hope we can find Tracy in this crowd," Becky commented.

We eventually found her, along with several friends, relaxing at one of the pools. They were all in bikinis like most everyone else. Now was the moment of truth. Would they recognize us as Becky and Lucy? Or would Tracy freak out at the appearance of an unknown identical twin accompanied by a stranger?

"Tracy!" Becky called out.

It occurred to me that yesterday, I'd gone all googly-eyed at Tracy in a near-bikini. But now, seeing Tracy in a bikini seemed almost normal.

Tracy turned toward us, then jumped up and ran to us. "Oh-my-God, Becky! Lucy! What a surprise!" She quickly embraced us both. "Guys, this is my twin sister -- obviously -- and our friend Lucy. I've been trying to get them to just try Bikini Beach for the longest time."

Another Asian girl approached, a head taller than me, very pretty in her own neon-orange bikini. She looked familiar. "Did you, by any chance, visit the library on Wednesday?" she asked me.

"Yes. That was you! Carol Hsu, right? I was so hoping to see you again!" A bit nervously, but remembering how she'd hugged me at the library, I went up and hugged her. She hugged me back hard.

"Oh-my-God!" said Tracy. "Lucy mentioned meeting a `Carol'. I had no idea it was you! Um, this is Vanessa King, and this is Faline Glazer."

"I'm pleased to meet both of you," said Vanessa rather formally, reaching out and shaking our hands. Vanessa was a very tall black girl, considerably taller than Carol even, and quite handsome with her white bikini contrasting her own dark skin. "Tracy has told us a lot about you."

"Don't be so formal with them, Vanessa," said Tracy. So Vanessa came and embraced us both. Hugging like this made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, even as it made me feel a little uncomfortable. At home, we weren't a hugging family.

"Tracy says she kept trying to get you to visit Bikini Beach," said Carol. "But you've been reluctant to come, both of you."

"This place is really awesome," added Faline. "I simply can't understand why anyone would be reluctant to come here. Anyway, you came." Faline was blonde, also pretty, her sky-blue bikini matching her sky-blue eyes.

"We thought we'd surprise Tracy," said Becky, with a little titter. "We certainly got our own surprise."

I thought it might have been a bad idea to mention our own surprise. It seemed as if even Tracy thought we were her identical twin Becky and their friend Lucy.

Vanessa glanced at us out of the corner of her eyes as she said, "Bikini Beach often catches first-time visiters by surprise." I couldn't help suspecting that Becky had given us away to her, as former boys.

"So Lucy, how did you like that sexy novel you got at the library?" asked Carol with a grin.

I blushed hard and was caught tongue-tied.

"You didn't say anything about a *sexy* novel, Lucy!" said an outraged Becky, as Tracy giggled.

"I never tell anyone about reading sexy books," I huffed. "It was thoroughly embarrassing when Carol caught me with that one." I thought back to that opening prologue, and wondered how the heck I could have found it so exciting. The description of the girl's abortion was just outright sickening. But I didn't mention that to the others. Fortunately, other scenes were genuinely arousing even if embarrassing.

"Didn't it occur to you that I might want to read it, too?" asked Becky.

"Now that you mention it," said Tracy, "I'm sure all of us would love to read it."

"I'd try it," said Carol. "If it's good. What was the book again? I don't remember the title."

"It's `Lace', and it's by Shirley Conran," I answered. "I've begun reading it, although I haven't finished it. It's very long. I've gotten quite into it."

"I'm sure you have," snarked Becky.

I sniffed at her. "It has quite a complex plot. In some ways, at some spots, it reminds me of books by Louisa May Alcott."

"That, I find really hard to believe," said Vanessa. "But I'd like to read it."

Faline swallowed. "I'd like to read it, too," she stammered with a blush. "Mom and Dad would probably kill me if I did, though."

"Only if they catch you, or if someone tells them. We won't tell them. Right, girls?" said Tracy.

"Right," everyone said in unison, including myself. I shuddered at the thought that Ma, Pa, or Peter might discover the sexy books I'd been looking at -- or might discover that I was a girl in a bikini. Although now that I thought of it, I did remember Ma suggesting that I bring my bikini. I was confused now.

I was scared about this but... "Okay, next time I come, I'll bring the book, if I remember. You all get together here Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays?" I asked, remembering Tracy's Bikini Beach days.

"We'll be sure to remind her. Right, Tracy?" said Becky.

"Right," answered Tracy.

"Perhaps I'll bring it to the mall on Monday and give it to Becky and Tracy. We often meet there between my activities. But how will I find you all when I come?" I asked, suddenly worried, observing the sheer numbers here.

"Don't worry. We always find each other." Vanessa came and hugged me. "Guys, let's show the new girls around Bikini Beach," said Vanessa. "We've relaxed here long enough."

"Yeah!" said Tracy hopping up. "Let's go!"

I couldn't process all the attractions here; there were so many, I felt confused and lost half the time. We found a group of volleyball courts with sand, currently all occupied.

"We have enough for two teams." said Faline. "Let's play volleyball!"

"Great idea!" said Vanessa. But we had to wait until one of the courts was free.

Two girls, black in a bikini and Asian in a one-piece, perhaps a little younger than us, were tossing a volleyball back and forth over the net in one of the courts. Apparently, they were trying to keep the ball in action as long as possible.

The black girl caught the ball and walked up to the fence, meeting the Asian girl. They talked together, and at one point, the black girl pointed toward us. Then they dumped the ball into the ball basket, and came near us, apparently about to depart.

"The court's free now; it's all yours," said the black girl.

"No-no-no, don't leave on our account!" exclaimed Tracy.

"Yeah, stay and play with us," added Vanessa. "Teams of four are better than teams of three anyway!"

They stayed, and we wound up playing a few games. We all switched between teams. It was fun, although I wasn't any good at volleyball. The two girls introduced themselves as Jennifer Lam and Xena Anderson.

Eventually, we stopped. "Let's go on the Pipeline," suggested Carol.

"Oh, yes-yes-yes, it's awesome!" added Tracy. "Becky, Lucy, you're in for the ride of your life!"

"If you don't mind losing your bikini top," added Xena. "We tried it earlier this morning. Jen's the only one properly dressed for it."

"Happens to all of us," said Carol. "We're all girls here, though."

This reminder that we were all girls reminded me that I was a girl now, and caused the creepiness down between my legs to flare up. I dared not scratch the itch, so I squeezed my legs together. I hoped nobody noticed.

"Why are you wearing a one-piece, anyway, Jen?" Tracy asked. "This is Bikini Beach, not One-Piece Waterpark."

"Don't pay her any heed. Wear any swimsuit you want," said Faline, glaring at Tracy.

"Variety and diversity are good things. Don't let the group you're in pressure you one way or the other," added Vanessa.

I wasn't too concerned about losing my bikini top, since I was accustomed to swimming topless in knee-length swimming trunks. I was already way more naked than I'd ever been in public. For some reason now though, the prospect of the girls losing their tops didn't excite me as it would have before.

I realized anew how practically naked I was. "Next time I come here, I'm wearing a one-piece, too. Pa hates it when girls wear bikinis or otherwise exhibit themselves immodestly." One-piece suits were too revealing as well, showing 100% leg plus extra. But I couldn't help that.

"Anyways, let's try the Pipeline. I've never been on it before," I added. "Today's my first day here, so let's do it."

"It's our first day, too," said Xena.

We got in line, and as we waited, we all introduced ourselves. Jen and Xena told us more about themselves. "I live with my older brother, Andy," said Xena. "My parents sent me here to live with him when I began middle school, because the schools were better and the area was safer. Jen and I met right at the start of middle school, and we've been best friends ever since." She wrapped her arm around Jen's shoulders and pulled Jen to her.

Jen blushed a little, and spoke softly. "Mom found out about Bikini Beach only a few days ago, and brought both of us today. We're supposed to meet her for lunch at noon, near the entrance."

"That probably gives us enough time for the Pipeline, but nothing more," said Vanessa. "I'm supposed to meet Mom and Helen for lunch. Same place. We all usually go there for lunch. Either there or the Tiki Hut."

"Aunt Yuko's here today," said Tracy. "We're going to surprise her with Lucy and Becky." She giggled.

As we reached the stairs up to the top of the Pipeline and started climbing, Becky asked Xena, "Were you ever teased or tormented about `Xena, the Warrior Princess' when you were a child?"

"Oh, all the time! It's all the stranger because I was born and named before Xena ever appeared on television!"

"Then where did your parents ever get that name?" asked Faline.

"I don't recall ever getting a definite answer, and I don't recall ever asking directly. Funny."

Talking stopped as we made our way up to the top of the Pipeline. It was a rather tiring climb.

About halfway up, Jen said, "Go on ahead, guys. I just have to stop and rest a little."

I was getting a bit tired too, so I said, "I'll stay and rest with you."

"Me too," said Becky, as Xena said, "I'll stay with you, Jen."

"Wimps, all of you!" said Tracy. "But I'll stop and rest as well. We stay together, right everyone?"

"Absolutely," said Vanessa.

We all rested and let others go by. We'd passed other resting people earlier, so we weren't the only ones to tire out. But the respite was only temporary. We started up again, and my apprehension grew as we approached the top, and I saw how truly steep and long the starting downward slide looked. But we eventually reached the top, the entrance to the Pipeline.

There were three separate slides, so we had to go down in several turns. Vanessa, Xena, and Jen went first. Faline and Tracy went second, with Tracy persuading Becky to go with her. Carol stayed with me for the last, perhaps to provide encouragement. But all too soon, our turn came.

I slowly stepped up to the launch point and sat down, wondering what the heck I was doing there. I watched as Carol launched herself down, hesitating at that last final plunge myself. Someone pushed me.

I shrieked louder than I'd ever shrieked -- at least not since the elderly lady appeared in the men's changing room. I was jostled around until I dropped into the pool below. I noticed my bikini top was gone, but I found it in short order floating in the water. I grabbed it and swam to the edge of the pool and got out before putting it on again.

"You seem awfully nonchalant about losing your bikini top," said Faline, who was tying her own top on. "I was majorly embarrassed when it happened to me the first time."

Oops, I hope I didn't give myself away as a former boy. I tried to cover it up. "Hey, we're all girls here. And we're already practically naked. What difference does a top mean?"

"All the difference in the world," said Faline with a huff.

I had no words for that. I thought of Pa, and the trouble I'd be in if he caught me in a bikini -- and I had no idea how he'd react if he caught me as a girl. I wasn't sure I believed the elderly lady that I was always Lucy to my family. Even seeing it with my own eyes with Tracy and Becky, I still was very uncertain and scared.

As we made our way back toward the Bikini Beach entrance, we got to know each other better. Along with Tracy, Becky, and myself, Carol would also begin high school at Westside High in a few weeks. Vanessa and Faline would attend Central High, and Jen and Xena would both begin eighth grade at Adams Middle School.

"Xena and I are taking summer school classes as well," said Jen. "We're taking algebra at Central High, and Cantonese classes at a private Chinese language school."

Xena added, "We're both in the same algebra class, but Jen's way more advanced in Cantonese. I get lots of practice with her and her family, though." She continued in angry-sounding rapid-fire gibberish, and Jen answered in like manner.

"Do any of you understand what they're saying?" asked Faline. "Carol? Becky? Tracy?"

Carol answered, "No!" while Becky answered, "Hrmph!" and Tracy answered, "No-no-no!"

Vanessa said, "Faline, I hate to say this, but your question marks you as the stereotypical ignorant American."

Faline burst into tears. "I'm so sorry!" she said. "I'm just a ditsy blonde."

I felt very sorry for her, and I went over to hug her, even though I was still a little uncomfortable with the hugging practice. Jen, Becky, and Carol got to her first, and crowded the rest of us out.

"I don't think you should have said that, Vanessa," said Xena.

"Oh, you're right. You're absolutely right." Vanessa looked down, distressed and on the verge of tears herself.

I now felt sorry for Vanessa, and went to hug her. Xena did too, and Tracy joined us.

Both groups stayed in their embrace for a few minutes. Then Carol called out, "Group hug, everyone!" We broke apart only to recombine in different combinations.

I would be quite embarrassed if anyone in the family found out about this, but this hugging business had a certain cozy feeling to it. I could quite take to it -- as long as Ma and Pa and Peter never found out.

Although I didn't have the kind of crush on Carol that I'd had on her -- or perhaps her memory -- as Luke, I was still quite attracted to her. So when we hugged, my head pressed up against her bosom, and then I stood up on tip-toe and kissed her cheek.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, and pulled me hard against her, my head smothered against her breasts.

I had to twist my head to breath, and there were Xena and Jen, locked into an embrace, kissing for all their worth. Vanessa, Faline, Becky, and Tracy, in a line with arms around each others' shoulders, were watching them with sharp smiles.

Apparently Jen noticed that she and Xena were now the center of attention, because she suddenly broke off the kiss and pulled away. "You won't tell Mom, will you? Please?" she pleaded.

"No, of course not. None of us will, right?" answered Vanessa, looking pointedly at every one of us.

"No-no-no," I said, with similar exclamation echoing around.

"You don't think bad of us, do you?" asked Jen fearfully.

"Nah, it's so romantic!" answered Becky.

"I suspect something similar between Nancy -- she's my older sister -- and her friend Cindy," said Carol. "They're always together."

"Andy's fine with it," said Xena. "My parents and the rest of my family are a long ways away, and they don't know. Although I'm pretty sure they'd be okay with it, too."

All too soon, we were approaching the eating place near the entrance. Tracy stopped us. "Hey, Becky. You go in first. Let's see if Aunt Yuko is fooled and thinks you are me."

"Great idea!" said Becky with a little laugh. "Let's fool her!" They both giggled.

"Lucy, you wait outside with me. Your presence would be a dead giveaway," said Tracy. We listened right outside the door as the others went inside, hoping to hear Aunt Yuko's reaction.

"Hey, Aunt Yuko!" said Becky.

"Becky, what a surprise, you finally came!" said Aunt Yuko. A moment later, she asked, "So where's Tracy?"

Tracy entered to join Aunt Yuko and Becky, and we all followed her. I Aunt Yuko in a Bikini for the first time. I wondered for a minute why I wasn't going all bug-eyed But then I hadn't gone all bug-eyed at Tracy either -- unlike yesterday in the mall. Bikini Beach must have done something to my mind. I reminded myself that in Science, there was One Mind, and it occurred to me that That One Mind (God) never went bug-eyed I also had to remind myself that I didn't believe this One Mind business.

"Lucy! You came too!" said Aunt Yuko. "This *is* a surprise."

I giggled. "We, Becky and I, thought to surprise Tracy and you by coming and trying out Bikini Beach. It was her idea."

"And I take it, it was Becky's idea to pretend to be Tracy when meeting me?" said Aunt Yuko.

"No," answered Tracy. "It was mine. For some reason, I thought we might be able to fool you."

Aunt Yuko said, "Fool me? Oh come on, girls. I've known both of you since you were born. Of course I'd recognize Becky at once."

"Even in bikinis here at Bikini Beach?" asked Tracy. "I don't think you ever saw Becky in a bikini -- not recently, at least."

"Yes, even here at Bikini Beach. True, people who don't know you might think they're seeing double -- perhaps even with your different colored bikinis. Technicolor double, perhaps. Nevertheless, you two have subtle differences that ring out `Tracy' or `Becky'. Now double it with your manner. Becky was shyer, more hesitant, than Tracy, in greeting me -- most likely because this was her first visit to Bikini Beach.

"So how did you get here? By bus, or did your mother bring you?"

"We took the bus," answered Becky.

"Well then, I'll take you home this evening," said Aunt Yuko. "Lucy, too."

I met the parents and siblings of the girls as well. I met Vanessa's mom and her nine-year-old sister Helen. Carol introduced us to her older sister Nancy, and Nancy's girlfriend Cindy. They were seventeen, and would be seniors at Westside High. To my surprise, Carol was a couple inches taller than her older sister. Otherwise, they looked very much alike. "Did you know my brother Peter?" I asked.

"Peter... Cuttington?" asked Nancy.

"Yeah, he was in a few of our classes," Cindy said.

"I think he graduated last spring," added Nancy. "He had a crush on me."

"Yeah," I said, a bit squicked by the idea of Peter having a crush on a girl. "He's off to college in late September. Pacific Tech."

"Ooooo!" they both said simultaneously. I couldn't help laughing.

I also met Jen's mother, Mrs. Lam or Ms. Cheung, her maiden name. Jen was her only child. "But Xena's been almost like a second daughter to me, almost Jen's twin sister. She's gotten Jen involved in activities that Jen would normally avoid due to her shyness. It was very nice of all of you to take them in and include them in your activities."

We all had lunch, and then relaxed an hour or so. I put on another layer of sunscreen, hoping to avoid sunburn. We talked at random, me dozing away off and on.

At one point, I woke up in the middle of a conversation about our upcoming schools.

"We won't let the rivalry between Central and Westside sabotage our friendship, right?" asked Carol.

"No, of course not," said Vanessa. "You and I have been together almost the entire summer."

We had a wonderful afternoon sampling the water rides, swimming, and getting to know the rest of the girls more. Before we knew it, it was 4:30, and I thought I should be heading home for supper. I was dreading the encounter with my family, but I knew it had to happen sometime.

When I mentioned this to Aunt Yuko, she said, "Let me call your parents and see if you can stay with us, until the park closes tonight. That okay?"

"Wonderful!" I said.

Aunt Yuko called home and spoke with Ma. After a moment, she called me over and handed me the phone. "Your Ma wants to talk to you."

"Ma?"

"Hi Lucy. It sounds like you're enjoying Bikini Beach."

"Yes I am, Ma."

"And you'd like to stay later, until it closes. The twins' Aunt Yuko has promised to take you home."

"Yes, if that's okay."

"It's fine with me. Pa and Peter don't know you're at Bikini Beach, and we should keep it that way. I'm telling them that you're spending the day with the Miura twins and their aunt."

So it was agreed: I would stay until closing time, and return home with Tracy and Becky.

"You call your mother, `Ma'?" asked Faline.

"Yes...?" I answered, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

"And she calls her father, `Pa'," said Tracy. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Oh. Like `Little House on the Prairie' then?" said Xena.

"Yeah, we hear a lot of that," I answered with resignation.

When it was time to go, I went by myself to the men's changing room -- identified as the women's overflow room on this side. I only realized that Becky wasn't with me just before I entered the room. I was scared, afraid that I might have gotten lost or that I might be left behind or something.

Unlike before, several women and girls were in this locker room. I suspected, although wasn't certain, that they were all former boys and men. I found my locker, with Luke's clothes replaced by clothes Lucy might have worn: a turquoise nearly-knee-length, short-sleeved dress, plain white bra, panties, and socks. I wished my clothes had stayed jeans and t-shirt, even if they had to be girls' versions. So not only would my family see me as a girl, they were going to see me in a dress.

While brushing my hair, I noticed that I was by habit brushing my hair. I realized that as long I as I didn't think about it, I did things a girl would do. I also realized right then that if Luke's clothes could be replaced by Lucy's, it wasn't such a stretch for Becky to find her clothes in the women's changing room. So that's probably where Becky went with Tracy, Aunt Yuko, and the other girls.

And indeed, that was the case. I finished changing and exited to wait outside the women's shower room. Becky, Tracy, and Aunt Yuko emerged shortly after, and Becky was in girls' clothes as well, jeans and t-shirt. Tracy and Aunt Yuko wore long t-shirts over their bikinis.

Aunt Yuko drove Tracy, Becky, and me in her tiny car. Tracy and I sat in back, while Becky sat up front with Aunt Yuko. We all talked about today at Bikini Beach. Aunt Yuko and Tracy were both very curious to hear our first impressions of Bikini Beach.

I was rather sleepy when we finally got to my house. Nevertheless, as I got out of the car, I asked, "Would you like to come in for a few moments?"

"I really have to get Tracy and Becky home, and get home myself. Thanks for the offer," replied Aunt Yuko. Frankly, I was relieved. I didn't want my family to see them in their outfits.

Peter, in the living room reading a book, barely shifted his head as he greeted me. "Hey, Lucy."

"Hi, Peter," I replied, as I headed straight upstairs to my bedroom. Not only was I very sleepy, but I was also too embarrassed to face my family as a girl in a dress.

I undressed down to my panties without really thinking about it, and more or less at random opened a drawer and pulled out one of Pa's "borrowed" t-shirts.

I stepped across the hallway into the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth, before going to bed and conking out.

        Sunday, August 3

"Lucy!" said Buster.

"Don't call me that!" I shouted. "My name's Luke!"

"Lucy gir-ell! Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!" All the big boys and even several classmates were surrounding me and chanting "Lucy!"

"Don't call me Lucy! I'm not a girl!"

"Lucy! Gir-ell! Lucy! Gir-ell! Lucy! Gir-ell!"

Ma and Pa both appeared. It was horrible enough to be tormented by the boys falsely calling me a girl; it was embarrassing for Ma and Pa to hear them. They scowled down at me. I could only look way up at them in shame and fear. "Is what we're hearing true?" Pa asked severely. "You are a girl?"

I couldn't stand it; the sickening shame just swept over me--

--and I awoke. My heart beat like crazy, and I was breathing heavily. It was only a nightmare, and I was in bed at home. Just a nightmare, I kept telling myself, just a nightmare. I caught my breath, jumped out of bed, and dashed across the hallway into the bathroom. The nightmare of being called a girl, parents towering over me and scowling down at me about being a girl, kept racing through my mind.

As the rushlet shot out to my relief, I realized that I'd sat on the toilet without thinking. Not only that, I was peeing strangely. Not only that, I didn't even have the equipment to pee the right way. Not any more. It was still the strangest feeling.

I remembered my visit to Bikini Beach yesterday. Unexpectedly, both Becky and I'd turned into girls. Becky? No, of course it was Bruce. He *became* Becky when *he* turned into a girl.

I remained on the toilet pondering my current situation, until Peter knocked at the door. "Just a minute!" I called out. I wiped myself, only noticing afterwards that I'd done so, as I pulled up my panties and let down my t-shirt. I washed my hands, and only then opened the door, embarrassed at Peter's seeing me in my skimpy sleepwear, but unable to help it.

He was in boxers and nothing else, not exactly covering either. He was also unnaturally tall -- almost two heads taller! I remembered that Peter and I as Lucy saw each other occasionally in sleepwear, skimpy or otherwise, and didn't think about it. Just like Peter with me as Luke, in fact. Ma and Pa hardly ever saw either of us in sleepwear, since we usually put on bathrobes before showering, and pretty much any time we left our rooms other than nighttime.

"Had a nightmare, too, Lucy?" he asked as we passed each other and he entered the bathroom.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Care to talk about it?" he asked as he closed the door.

"No, I'll be fine." There was no way I could tell him about my nightmare. I mean, if he always thought of me as Lucy, there's no way he could possibly understand my dream, let alone the humiliation of my dream. I returned to bed.

I gradually woke up, but continued dozing in bed for the longest time. The sky was bright blue outside the window. Finally, I felt that I just absolutely had to get up. It was Sunday, and I had to go to Sunday School and Church. I sleepily sat up, glanced at the clock, and found it was only 6:30. No wonder I still felt like sleeping! I decided to go to the bathroom before returning for more sleep.

As I got back in bed, my over-large t-shirt rolled up. The strange creepiness between my legs seemed to flare up, and I couldn't resist reaching down between my legs, under my panties, to rub or scratch it. "Ahh!!!!" Oh my, that felt wonderful! I jolted in fear and embarrassment that Peter might have heard me. This was so naughty, especially on a Sunday morning.

I turned on my side and curled up, trying to shut off the feelings and get back to sleep. Despite things, I was still sleepy. I really had to turn my mind away from these thoughts -- just think of something else.

How about geometry? I just remembered: not only had Peter never given me that geometry textbook, I hadn't even taken algebra in eighth grade. I was preregistered to take algebra in ninth grade in high school instead.

`Why did Bikini Beach do that to me?' I wondered angrily. I lay in bed fuming, eventually figuring out that I wasn't going to get any more sleep, no matter how sleepy I felt.

I got up and put on a light-green bathrobe. The bathrobe was cuter, softer, and more pastel than I was used to, but I decided I could live with it. I was about to go and take my shower, when I remembered that I was supposed to take the Pill today and every day.

I'd never taken the Pill before, even as Lucy. I'd never had it, even. I checked the place I "knew" it was hidden, and sure enough, there was a complete Pill disc. I guessed that in this Reality, the Pill disc was a gift from the elderly lady.

I was trying to decide whether I should take the Pill, when it occurred to me that I might read the instructions, just in case. They were extremely difficult to read, so I wound up skimming most of it. The different-colored pills were inactive but iron-enriched, to be taken during my period.

My period! Was I actually going to bleed ... down there? Yep, I had the vague memory of bleeding as Lucy. Not only that, I was due to begin in a week or so.

While reflecting on that, I kept thinking about the Pill disc. Should I take a Pill? Or should I follow Ma, Pa, and Christian Science, and simply flush the pills down the toilet? I just knew Ma or Pa would catch me with the Pill sooner or later.

After pacing the room a while, I finally decided to take a pill, with no little sense of guilt. I had to go to the bathroom for the water to chase it down, so I did and took my shower. I avoided looking at myself in the mirror, afraid of what I might see. What little I saw out of the corner of my eye was a cringe-inducingly cute naked girl.

Back in my bedroom, I paced the room, telling myself that I really had to go downstairs and face the family. But could I really face the family as a girl? Before, it was only Peter, and we were both half-asleep or otherwise preoccupied at the time. I felt naughty and guilty facing them as a girl, and naughty and guilty having just taken a pill. Mothers were very good at detecting when their children had done something naughty, and Ma was no exception. If Ma didn't see being a girl as naughty, she would just conclude I'd done something else naughty, and perhaps guess what it was.

Being caught with the Pill would be especially mortifying, indicating that I thought about sex. No, not just about sex, but about having sex -- getting naked with someone else, a boy. When I thought about it, I was pretty sure that Peter would keep the Pill secret if he discovered it, and even express approval. But that didn't help my fear of being mortified if he caught me.

I found slippers matching my bathrobe -- for some reason, I had slippers matching every one of my three pastel-colored bathrobes: green, pink, and yellow. I guess that Lucy had an overdeveloped sense of cuteness. Or maybe Ma did. Or maybe Bikini Beach did, in giving me those clothes.

I finally left my room and went downstairs. Nobody was there. Now that I realized it, it was obvious. It was a lot earlier than I usually awoke on Sundays.

I remembered that I had piano lessons the next day. Mrs. Prudence was my teacher. I had conflicting memories of her -- was she somewhat stern, yet friendly? Or was she stern and scary? Did I like weekly piano lessons, or did I fear them? My memories were mixing with Lucy's memories. I remembered noticing as Luke after a few weeks of taking taking piano lessons in my TKD uniform, Mrs. Prudence had become considerably nicer.

So I practiced the piano for ten or twenty minutes. The next thing I knew, Peter was leaning over me at the piano. "Wake up, Lucy. Breakfast time."

"I woke up earlier this morning, and couldn't get back to sleep," I said in an attempt to explain.

"I understand," said Peter. "No problem."

Ma and Pa were at the table. "Now that we're all here," said Ma, as she started the Mental Work. As I ate breakfast and listened, I wondered why I found the Mental Work so boring before. It was, in fact, rather interesting. During the `mental malpractice' sections, I wondered if it was mental malpractice that made everyone forget that I was Luke. Neither Ma nor Pa seemed to have any problem with how I looked or acted; they noticed nothing strange. Was it mental malpractice that made the Mental Work sound more interesting than before?

I had an epiphany: did mental malpractice make me think that I was Luke until yesterday, then transformed into Lucy? Everything in my room was Lucy's, and my unthinking habits and some of my tastes were apparently Lucy's. Yet I still thought at times like Luke. Were my Luke thoughts and Luke memories simply Error? A product of mental malpractice?

`Oh, come-on,' I told myself. 'I'm Luke. I'm just stuck in this cute little body, wearing a cute little bathrobe.' How did I know that? I remembered it all too well, my surprise transformation into Lucy and Bruce's surprise transformation into Becky. As far as I could tell, Ma, Pa, and Peter remembered me perfectly well as Lucy from my birth. In fact, the elderly lady warned us of that. That meant that either my memories or their memories were all off.

So how did I know my memory wasn't all off? Of course, I didn't. There was one test I could try. If I could say, "I'm Luke," that meant my memories were all wrong and I really was Lucy. If I couldn't, that meant that I was really Luke, and Bikini Beach changed me and blocked me from saying my name.

Or it might mean that the same mental malpractice that made me think I was Luke also blocked me from saying "Luke". Or the mental malpractice might have me falsely remember doing the test and proving I was really Luke.

Oh ugh! I just couldn't handle all this convolution.

"What's up, Lucy?" Peter startled me out of my thoughts. "You seem to be concentrating quite a bit. The Mental Work's long over."

"Just thinking about memory and such. What happens if I can't trust my memories."

"You don't really want to get into that," said Peter. "You'll drive yourself crazy or work yourself into severe depression."

"Now now," said Ma. "We must remember that we are all God's Perfect Children. There is One Mind, and we can't have memory problems or depression. Any such claims are but delusion."

"And we can't be deluded either, because we are the Perfect Children of God. Likewise with animal magnetism and mental malpractice," said Peter gruffly. "Contrary to everything on the Mental Work."

"Young man," said Ma to Peter. "Let's hear no more of that. Got that? It takes years of careful study to properly understand Christian Science."

"Yes, Ma," said Peter. "Just make sure you get it right, and aren't harming people in the process."

"I remind you that that kind of talk got you barred from Church."

"I have to go up and get dressed," I said, wanting to avoid hearing any further argument.

"Finish your breakfast first," said Pa.

So I stayed and finished my breakfast. To my relief, Ma and Peter ended their argument right then and there.

I did go upstairs to get dressed after finishing breakfast. Most of my dresses would do, there was no difference between a dress I as Lucy routinely wore, and a dress I wore to Sunday School and Church. I noticed a couple dress-suits in my closet, that would simply not do, either for Church or for everyday wear: a miniskirt suit and one minidress -- a black, strapless dress that topped out above my breasts and below my underarms. It was almost a tube of material, but it bulged out at the hips, in at my waist, and outward again shaped for my breasts. How and when did I ever get this one?

Just for the sake of it, I pulled out the black minidress and held it up to myself in bra and panties, and checked it out in the mirror. Yikes! That was a mistake. Not only would the dress show way too much leg *and* way too much top, I got to really see myself in the mirror!

I was just too cute for words -- and that wasn't a compliment! My dimpled smile, especially when smiling subconsciously... And ugh, those legs, precisely the legs I couldn't help ogling as a guy... It was my nightmare come alive! And that body of mine was outside wearing a bikini all day yesterday!

A month earlier, on July 4th, I'd worn one of my miniskirt suits to clarinet lesson, for Brandon's benefit. Ah, Brandon Oregon, what a dreamboat! What a-- What was I thinking? Having a huge crush on my clarinet teacher? Of all the--! Bikini Beach, why did you do this to me!?

That miniskirt had engendered two comments from Brandon: the first was complimenting me on how I looked, and the second was complimenting my posture. I had to squeeze my legs tight together because of the miniskirt -- there's no leg-crossing when you play clarinet -- and hold my clarinet up at a higher angle. That turned out to be a better clarinet posture. Holding onto every word of Brandon's, I'd kept that posture ever since. It was a good posture, and I hoped I would stick to it as Luke. At least some good came from that otherwise nauseating crush.

I picked out a decent dress at random, blue, fluffy short-sleeves, extending almost to my knees like most of my dresses. I found a hair ribbon matching my dress, and after brushing my hair thoroughly, tied it in a simple ponytail, a common hairstyle of Lucy's, one I heartily agreed with. I added a pair of clips to keep the fringes from my eyes. Glancing back at the mirror, I saw a cute girl I'd get a huge crush on, simple yet alluring -- embarrassingly, nauseatingly cute knowing it was myself.

I noticed one major advantage that almost made it worth everything else: I didn't have to wear that horrid tight, ill-fitting suit. These dresses, at least, were nice and comfortable, my legs felt free, even if things got a bit airy down below. Uhoh, I was beginning to want to touch myself again. I hoped I wasn't going to feel like that all the time.

Finally, it was time to go to Sunday School. As Luke, I was envious of Peter. Normally, students attended Sunday School until they turned 20. Peter was barred from Sunday School and Church, and he was only 17. As far as I could tell, Lucy's thoughts were similar to Luke's, although more recently reached. Thank goodness, I didn't want my beliefs sabotaged by my transformation.

Peter was taking his shower as I went downstairs. Ma was going to drop me off at Sunday School and return home. Ma and Pa would arrive later for Church service. I had to attend both. It wasn't going to be easy facing Sunday School as Lucy in a dress.

And I was still quite nervous about facing Ma and Pa as a girl wearing a dress. I didn't know why, since I'd already faced them as a girl wearing a pastel bathrobe. I guess the dress was unmistakably feminine, over and above anything else. And then there were my legs.

I went and pulled out the longest pair of blue socks that I could find; they went almost up to my knees. Black shoes completed the outfit.

I nervously left my bedroom and went downstairs. We still had some time before I had to depart, so I practiced a little more on the piano. It was quite easier practicing with the pedals with my shoes on.

Finally, Ma called me over and I had to go to Sunday School. I brought a book to cover the waiting times.

I was about to get into the back seat where I usually sat, when Ma told me to sit up front. As we drove, Ma asked, "So how did you like Bikini Beach, yesterday?"

"I liked it a lot," I answered. "I got to meet Tracy's friends there, and they're all a wonderful bunch. The water rides and attractions were fun, but I think the best part will be the friends -- if I can go the days they all meet." I was concerned Ma might not let me go every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday for the next three weeks.

"I understand you got a three-week guest membership," said Ma.

"Yeah. That was okay, wasn't it? The last day is Saturday, just before I begin school. The girls meet there every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday."

We arrived at Church in short order. Books other than authorized Christian Science literature were prohibited from church, so I hid the book in the church auditorium behind a hymnal, before going to Sunday School.

Sunday School began with a hymn, and continued with the Subject (Love), Golden Text, Responsive Reading of the Lesson-Sermon, and the Lord's Prayer. Then we separated into classes.

My class had two other students besides me: a thirteen-year-old girl, and a sixteen-year-old boy. The boy was kind of cute, but he wasn't Brandon Oregon. I was aghast at the crush I had on my clarinet teacher, but I just couldn't help it. This wasn't the kind of Love that was the synonym of God.

The teacher pointed out the passage in Science and Health: "The material so-called gases and forces are counterfeits of the spiritual forces of divine Mind, whose potency is Truth, whose attraction is Love, whose adhesion and cohesion are Life, perpetuating the eternal facts of being."

The teacher continued, "You heard that opposite charges attract and like charges repel? Push two bar magnets together one way, they'll stick. Reverse one of the magnets, and they'll repel. Yet, the same magnet will stick to the refrigerator no matter what its orientation; it's all attractive. See how convoluted and contradictory material theories are? If you don't, add in gravity, which is claimed to be all attractive."

The boy said, "There's something wrong when gases and forces are lumped together as the same thing."

"No, not at all," answered the teacher. "Gases are supposed to push outward, with gas pressure. Except when they suck in, for example with vacuum cleaners. It's all the same thing: convoluted material theories full of contradiction and illusion."

The boy was visibly lost for words at this. The teacher continued, "Recognize that with spiritual forces of Mind, attraction is Love, and you'll understand the Truth."

I remembered something, from the Mental Work. I hoped he'd recognize it, both because it was in the Church Manual, and because it was read in Church the first Sunday of every month. "What about the `mere personal attraction' in the Rule for Motives and Acts?" I asked.

"Personal attraction is also but a counterfeit of the Love of God," the teacher answered. "Desire, lust jealousy, passion, they're all forms of Error that one may confuse with Love."

That figured, I thought. My unwanted, and thoroughly embarrassing, crush on Mr. Oregon was certainly not God's Love, but one of those counterfeits.

To my relief, we were called back to the rows of chairs for the final part of Sunday School. I noticed one of the girls in the class of children seven-to-nine had to be carried to the chairs. I recalled both as Luke and Lucy, that that had been going on for several weeks. When we had to stand up for the hymn, someone had to help her up, and support her through the rest of the service.

Sunday School finally ended, only for church service to begin in half an hour. I went to sit and wait, and got out the book to read while waiting.

This time, I found myself with conflicting preoccupations that kept me from reading the book fully. I finally slipped it down behind one of the hymnals on the back of the bench in front. I kept thinking about yesterday's visit to Bikini Beach. It was fun and nice meeting Tracy's Bikini Beach friends, and it was interesting how quickly we made friends even with complete strangers. Not just Tracy's friends, but also the other two girls who joined us -- what were their names? Oh yes, Jen and Xena.

My thoughts also kept returning to Mr. Brandon Oregon. I couldn't help it. Even though it squicked me, I couldn't help thinking about him, imagining his youthful adult face in front of me. It was just a crush, I knew -- a huge crush -- but I felt as if I was in love with him. I just couldn't help it. I remembered that even as Lucy, I was terrified of having my crush on him being found out.

Ma and Pa arrived, and the church service began shortly after. As Luke, I found church services uniquely boring except for the hymns and the occasional Bible readings. But now, several things preoccupied my mind. Brandon...

Ah, Brandon. His face was just as I remembered, yet I couldn't help seeing him and thinking of him as a most attractive man. As mortifying as it was, I couldn't help quivering. I felt just a bit damp between my legs, with the excitement only aggravating the strange creepiness between my legs, the itch I couldn't scratch. Especially in church, especially next to my parents.

I kept my hands chastely clasped on my lap, even as I squeezed my legs together, tensed my thighs, and straightened my legs. I shifted my mind back to that nice day yesterday at Bikini Beach, Tracy's nice friends there, the nice time I had swimming, practically naked in a bikini...

I shifted suddenly, and Ma glanced down at me. I was feeling mortally guilty now, at having worn a bikini in the face of Pa's expressed opposition. It was now mortifying how I had exposed myself at Bikini Beach. At least no boys or men saw me -- except, of course, Bruce when he became Becky -- and how many other changed guys there?

Thank goodness, my thoughts were interrupted by the end of the Lesson-Sermon and the beginning of the collection plate going around. The service concluded with the final hymn and the passages that followed.

Peter was all dressed up when we got home from church. Normally, Peter and I as Luke didn't have to dress up for meals. However, we all had to dress up for Sunday Dinner. Also, I began to recall, I as Lucy had to dress up weekday evenings for dinner, including Saturdays.

After dinner, I practiced a little on the piano and on the clarinet. I was definitely better at both as Lucy than as Luke, although I was pretty good at the clarinet as Luke. Although I wasn't actually supposed to practice ballet at home, I remembered I was going to have ballet on Monday at the time I normally did Taekwondo as Luke.

Afterwards, I went up to my bedroom and undressed down to my panties before lying on my bed to continue reading "Lace". Removing that bra was such a relief. I wished I could change to shorts and tee-shift without a bra, but Pa was home and most shorts I found were girls' short-shorts, although I had some almost-knee-length shorts which would do.

I was caught up in the novel, encountering and sometimes rereading romantic and sexual scenes, getting more and more excited without really noticing it. I gasped and emitted a raspy moan, only to realize that I'd slid my other hand down under my panties and was feeling myself up. I whipped my hand out, hoping nobody heard me.

Whenever I thought about it, it still felt strange and creepy down there.

My fingers were damp, and I was bringing them up for a sniff, when I realized with disgust what I was about to do. Yuck! I reached over and wiped my hand on the sheet down the side of my bed. Yuck again!

I got back to reading "Lace", making sure that both hands were securely on the book and not where they didn't belong.

Later, after a particularly hot scene, even without any physical stimulus I was aware of, I was caught up in uncontrollable ever-increasing arousal. After my first noise, I held my mouth tightly closed, and my legs tight and closed together, in a vain attempt to cut off whatever was happening. I kept mewing and gasping at ever high pitches through my closed mouth and nose, and right at the last minute, managed to slam my pillow folded in half over my face as I emitted an incredibly loud piercing high-pitched scream.

That felt wonderful, painful, and most uncomfortable -- not to mention, utterly mortifying -- all at the same time. I couldn't help hyperventilating as I tried to catch my breath.

I froze as I heard Peter knocking at the door. "Lucy, are you all right?"

"Um, girl problems," I replied loudly, then winced at the expression. I slipped under the covers, with my book, not wanting Peter to see me in my panties, should he open the door.

"Should I get Ma?" he asked.

"No-no-no-no!" I exclaimed. "She'll just say that I'm God's Perfect Child, and God's Perfect Child can't have girl problems. Or something like that." I didn't want Peter or Ma or anyone to know I'd just had a massive orgasm, or that I was wearing nothing but panties now.

Peter laughed. "That sounds about right. Any way I can help?"

Oh God, no! I blushed horribly, and tried to hide my embarrassment and sound nonchalant as I answered, "I don't think so."

"Okay, I'll leave you alone." Did I hear a waver in Peter's tone?

I somehow managed to get about three-fourths of the way through "Lace" without further incident, although I found myself aroused many more times. Then Peter knocked at the door to tell me that Sunday evening snack was ready.

I slipped the book under the bed, and dressed back up to go back downstairs.

After the snack and another practice session on the piano, I returned to my room to finish the book.

I realized that the next day, Monday, I would be doing ballet instead of Taekwondo, in a pink leotard with white tights.

        Monday, August 4

"No-no, middle finger!" Mrs. Prudence penciled in a large "3" just under the chord at hand. "Use your middle finger with a V7 chord here!" I froze up in humiliation. It was all the worse -- being scolded wearing a leotard, a leotard I wore in preparation for ballet class after.

I couldn't face myself ever, this was so bad, walking through the mall in my swimsuit. Whatever possessed me to wear a bikini to ballet class anyway? How did I confuse ballet with Bikini Beach?

-- I awoke again. Oh God, please! Get rid of these horrid nightmares!

My heartbeat gradually slowed -- thank goodness I was still in bed.

It occurred to me that things would be better than that nightmare today, but not a lot. I was going to wear a pink leotard with white tights and a pink wrap-around skirt. Okay, so a lot of girls wore short skirts and short shorts. That made it no less revealing.

I kept imagining piano lessons under Mrs. Prudence and walking through the mall wearing only my leotard -- did I actually do that once?

I finally came to full wakefulness, and got up. My morning routine as Lucy wasn't very different from my routine as Luke -- except that I had a secret Pill to swallow, and guilt to get over. After breakfast and the Mental Work, Ma decided that she and I would record this week's Lesson-Sermon. Last week, I'd recorded it with Pa. I was always shy about recording it as Luke, and always cringed when listening to myself. I couldn't quite recall why. In any case, I was okay with recording it this time. I played the "Second Reader," reading from the Bible and the congregation's part of the Responsive Reading, and Ma was the "First Reader," reading from Science and Health. The Subject this week was "Spirit."

I practiced a bit on the piano and on the clarinet (trying to push aside my unwanted and embarrassing crush on Mr. Oregon) and helped Ma a little with the housework, before departing to piano lessons.

As I remembered doing as Lucy, I put on tights followed by my ballet leotard. When I hooked the sleeveless leotard over my shoulders -- oh my, the tightness! The stimulation would be wonderful if I could enjoy it in private, but going outside in public, especially being around Ma, that would be terrible! Perhaps I should wear my bikini the next time I went to Bikini Beach, after all. I shoved my wrist up against my mouth, before taking a tentative step in fear that I might scream out. Moving about continued to stimulate me. Fortunately, the stimulation gradually reduced.

That reminded me, I was going to bring "Lace" with me to the mall after my piano lesson, to lend to Becky and Tracy. I slipped the book in with my piano stuff, and wrapped my skirt on and bravely left the room. The skirt was, in my view, way too short, but at least the tights covered me.

        ******

I left for piano lessons earlier than I usually did, both as Luke and in my memory of Lucy. I knew I was going to delay my arrival, and I wanted to take that into account. When I thought back on it, it was only fairly recently, that is, when I turned twelve, that Ma was persuaded to let me walk alone to piano lessons, the library, the mall, and the like. The walk was about a mile or so.

I approached Mrs. Prudence's house with trepidation. For me as Luke, piano lessons were my weekly dreaded experience, punctuated by relief when class ended, although she seemed considerably nicer once I got to wearing my TKD uniform. However, I seemed to remember Mrs. Prudence as a nice old lady, somewhat stern. On the third hand, even though I seemed to remember routinely wearing this outfit in preparation for ballet not only this summer but previous summers as well, Luke in me was embarrassed to go to my stern piano instructor dressed like this.

As usual, I greeted the girl who came out. This time, she replied, "Hi, Lucy!"

Once inside, As I got out my music books, I inadvertently exposed "Lace". I tried to pretend there was nothing amiss, but Mrs. Prudence said, "`Lace'? That's a great novel." I couldn't help blushing, but nothing further was said about the book.

Somehow, I managed to let the Lucy part take over, and this was one of my best piano lessons for me. Lucy paid far more attention to the correct fingerings. That was one thing I hopefully would take to heart once I turned back to Luke, even if I wasn't as advanced as Lucy.

When the lesson was over, I greeted the guy who was the next student, and he also greeted me as "Lucy". For some reason, I appeared more familiar to the students as Lucy. Also, that guy looked just too buff for comfort. If not for Brandon -- ah, Brandon... I shook myself with disgust.

I walked to the mall, and met Becky, Tracy, and -- surprise -- "Hey, Carol!" "Hey, Lucy!" we greeted each other with a hug. I looked her up and down. She looked wonderful in jeans and a t-shirt with incomprehensible symbols. I followed up with hugs with Becky and Tracy. We were in the food court, and I got a small salad.

"Say, Lucy, did you bring the sexy novel?" asked Becky, followed by Carol and Tracy's laughter. I couldn't help laughing as well, even if it was the laughter of embarrassment.

I looked around. Nobody was paying attention. "Yeah, I brought it." I pulled it out of my knapsack. "I finished it last night. It's a library book; be sure to return it."

"And Lucy will want to reread certain parts," added Tracy.

"Of course," agreed Carol.

"We'll all want to reread our favorite parts, right, Lucy?" said Becky,

Embarrassed at the talk, I asked, "So which of you wants the book first?"

All three of them answered some form of "Me!"

Carol wound up getting the book, as we finished up and left the food court. Pretty much out of "habit", I headed toward the ballet studio. We met Peter on the way.

"Hello, girls," said Peter. "Hi, I don't think I've met you before," he said to Carol.

"This is Carol Hsu," I said. "Carol, my brother Peter. He has a blue belt in Taekwondo."

"Wow! That's quite a level," said Carol. "Impressive!"

I was going to say that I'd started doing Taekwondo this summer, but it came out instead as, "It would be nice if I could do Taekwondo."

Peter said, "That would be wonderful. Too bad Ma doesn't allow it. She has old-fashioned notions of what's appropriate for a young lady."

"That's so unfair," said Carol.

"Carol's one of our Bikini Beach friends," said Tracy. "Lucy and Becky came to Bikini Beach last Saturday, finally! They got to meet my friends there!"

Oh-oh. I wished Tracy hadn't told Peter that. He wasn't supposed to know.

"Actually, Lucy and I met at the library last week," said Carol. "I never knew she was Tracy's friend."

"Bikini Beach, eh?" said Peter. "Too bad, the only water park in our town is for girls only." He sighed. "But Lucy, you really must tell me all about it."

"You won't tell Pa, will you? He'll be furious," I said, afraid of what Pa might say.

"I won't tell him, I promise," said Peter. "I understand."

"Boys sometimes are admitted to Bikini Beach as guests," said Becky.

"Oh? Are they admitted as honorary girls or something?" asked Peter.

"Something like that," said Becky, giggling. All of us laughed. Honorary girls? I wouldn't, and probably couldn't, tell Peter that they're admitted as actual girls. So far, Peter displayed no sign of remembering me as Luke.

"Would those honorary girls wear honorary bikinis?" Peter continued, winking. We all laughed and giggled, of course. Nobody answered his question.

Peter went on to Taekwondo, and the girls went with me to ballet. As I entered, they said good-bye and left to do their own thing.

We were going to do a performance at the end of summer, a simplified, abbreviated, and narrated version of Tchaikovsky's "The Sleeping Beauty", and we'd been focusing on rehearsing the past couple of weeks. I remember as Lucy I resented not being given a character this summer, but now I was relieved to be in the ballet corps. I didn't remember the exact performance days, so I didn't know if I'd actually perform. But I rehearsed as if I would.

After ballet class finished, I went outside prepared to walk home, quite sweaty and grimy in my ballet kit. Of course, I put the skirt back on and changed out of ballet shoes into sneakers.

Carol was out there, waiting, to my surprise. "Carol!"

"Hey, Lucy!" she came and hugged me.

I returned the hug tentatively at first. "I'm really grimy," I said.

"Yeah, I can tell," she replied with a laugh. "No problem! Mind if I join you?"

"Sure. Just heading home to clean myself off."

"Why not shower and change in the studio?" she asked.

"Well, um," I hesitated, embarrassed about discussing the subject. "I don't like changing or showering with others." That was only part of it. I was still unaccustomed to leotards, and I didn't care for public arousal. The wetness down there even now wasn't wholly sweat.

"Fair enough," said Carol.

We started home.

"Say, I watched your brother at Taekwondo," said Carol. "He's awesome!"

"Yes, indeed!" I said. "I've seen him." I didn't mention that this summer, I only saw him as Luke in his class. Although now that I thought of it, Lucy watched him test for his Blue Belt when summer began.

As we walked home, we continued chatting. At one point, Carol mentioned reading "Lace" while watching Peter's TKD class. "I like the story. Poor Lili." A few minutes later, she said, "Lili did have a brief happy childhood with the Hungarian family who adopted her. I'm reminded of `These Happy Golden Years' -- you know that story?" she asked.

"Yeah, I've read all the books, including `The First Four Years'," I answered. "That one was very sad."

"That's my idea. `These Happy Golden Years' may have been among the happiest of Laura's life. Once she married Almanzo Wilder, her life turned horrible and didn't recover for many years."

There was plenty to ponder over, there. I had to think, and didn't respond. After a few moments of silent walking, Carol continued, "Well, I suppose at the very least she got some consolation when her Little House books became popular and she probably made a fortune from them."

We got home. As expected, Ma was the only one home. Pa was at work, and Peter was wherever he was, doing whatever he did during the day.

"Ma, we're home!" I said needlessly, as she was in the living room reading a book.

"Hello!" she greeted Carol. "Lucy, you must introduce me to your new friend," said Ma.

"This is Carol Hsu. She's Tracy's friend at Bikini Beach, and now she's Becky and my friend as well."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. -- Pssst, Lucy," Carol whispered.

"Cuttington," I whispered back.

"Mrs. Cuttington," continued Carol. "Sorry I forgot your last name for a moment."

"That's quite all right. I'm pleased to meet you as well, Carol. I'm always happy to meet a friend of Lucy's, and I'm happy that she's made new friends at Bikini Beach."

"Ma? Carol? I really have to shower and change," I said. I went upstairs, showered, and changed into a t-shirt and jeans.

Upon returning, I stopped in surprise at the top of the stairs. Not only were Ma and Carol sitting on the sofa and talking, but Peter was there also. Peter never came home this early in the afternoon, except when ordered by Ma or Pa because of something planned.

Carol sat between Ma and Peter. "Tracy occasionally mentioned Lucy, and Peter as well," Carol smiled at Peter. It was just a flash smile, leading me to flare up in jealousy for just a moment, because it was aimed at Peter and not me. It was one of those smiles that lit up everything. Peter smiled back, a rather dopey expression. I wasn't surprised that Carol's smiles had the same effect on him. I was merely surprised, embarrassed, and just a bit squicked, and above all jealous, to think of my big brother Peter infatuated with a girl, one I was already thinking of as my girl.

Then I wondered what the heck I was thinking. How could Carol be my girl? Okay, I was attracted to her, but I wasn't a lesbian -- or was I? No, Brandon Oregon was for me. I envisioned my clarinet teacher's face, a wonderfully handsome adult face -- ugh, more ickiness, more embarrassment!

I slowly descended the stairs, recalling that Peter certainly had no such attraction to Tracy. Carol was saying, "Tracy kept telling us that Becky and Lucy were both refusing to even try Bikini Beach."

"Pa would really have a cow." I entered the living room and sat in an armchair. "If he ever found out I went to Bikini Beach..." I didn't continue.

"Pa does have serious issues with girls and young ladies in bikinis and skimpy clothing," Ma admitted. "But we don't have to say anything to him. If Pa wants to know how you met Carol, you are the Miura twins' friend."

"Surprisingly enough," added Carol, "we met in the library last Wednesday, and got to talking. She introduced herself as Lucy, but I had no idea she was Tracy's friend Lucy."

"Wow, that's quite a coincidence," said Peter. "Coincidences do happen, of course, simply due to the shear number of combinations."

I sensed Ma holding something back. I suspect that if Carol weren't here, she would have said something Science, Omniscient God, and coincidences. Or maybe she was avoiding an argument with Peter.

Carol said, "I'm finding it ever more curious, now. Lucy makes sense in not wanting to try Bikini Beach. But Mr. Cuttington's, um, issues as you put it, don't apply to Becky." Of course, I couldn't tell the real reason, the reason that applied to both *Bruce* and me. Carol continued, "And then both of them together changed their mind and decided to come and surprise Tracy."

"Becky suggested it, requesting Lucy go with her," said Ma. "And I approved. I even suggested Lucy take her Bikini. But did Becky ever give an explanation for not going before then?"

"I rarely met Becky," said Carol. "It was always Tracy -- I vaguely recall her passing along both of your reasons, but I can't for the life of me remember what they were."

Whoa, were Bikini Beach's reality-shifts that ineffectual? It went without saying that Becky and I wouldn't explain that Bikini Beach was for girls and we were guys. But couldn't Bikini Beach have created a substitute? Maybe Bikini-Beach reality shifts were imperfect. I admit I couldn't think of anything myself.

"Maybe they were scared of Bikini Beach," suggested Peter.

That was quite close to the truth, once Tracy told us not only that the occasional boy was admitted, but that they also vanished from the face of the earth once they entered. I couldn't admit that, though.

"It's a mistake to theorize before one has the facts," said Carol.

"That leads one to twist facts to fit theories, rather than theories to fit facts," Peter followed up.

"Sherlock Holmes," said Peter and Carol together, to all our laughter.

Peter continued, "Whenever you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

I wondered: would boys becoming girls be considered impossible? Or merely highly improbable? Suppose what is eliminated as impossible is really still only highly improbable?

"But we do have with us one of the two friends who refused to visit Bikini Beach," said Carol, turning toward me. "She might explain their reluctance to visit."

An idea came to me that was at least a half-truth. "Tracy told us that boys occasionally went to Bikini Beach. In fact, she spotted two going in, but couldn't find them, no matter how hard she looked. She even asked her friends about them." I glanced at Carol.

"Oh, yes. Tracy was asking about a couple of boys. She was really breathing heavily with excitement and attraction; hotties and hunks she called them," answered Carol. "We couldn't help laughing at Tracy's obsession that day."

"Tracy was completely unable to find them." I continued. "It was as if they'd vanished from the face of the earth. Bikini Beach could be such a dangerous place!"

"But you and Lucy wouldn't have that problem," said Carol.

I found myself fuming. "If Bikini Beach is a death trap for boys, then it's a vile, evil place. I'd want nothing to do with it!" I mentally kicked myself for momentarily forgetting I was originally a boy -- and for forgetting that I now knew perfectly well why Tracy never found those boys.

Carol continued in a level monotone, "The reluctance of both you and Becky to visit Bikini Beach began long before Tracy told you about those boys. And then, both of you visited Bikini Beach shortly afterwards."

It was getting frightening now. I couldn't -- just couldn't -- say that Becky and I were boys who became girls at Bikini Beach. In fact, I was terrified, embarrassed, and about to cry. I couldn't help my first sniff.

"Please, let's change the subject," said Peter. "You're really putting Lucy on the spot. Can't you see how upset she is?"

"Okay, okay, I won't mention it any further," said Carol. "So Peter, I saw you in Taekwondo today, and you were awesome! How long have you been doing it?"

"I began when I was fourteen -- Lucy's age, in fact. The summer before my freshman year, three years ago."

"So you're a senior now?"

"Um, no. Actually, I've already graduated. I'm starting college at Pacific Tech this fall."

"Oh, wow!" Carol smiled, and Peter blushed. "Graduated in only three years, AND attending Pacific Tech!" She smiled again.

"Well." Peter swallowed, and didn't say anything further.

"I hope I can get into Pacific Tech myself," continued Carol. "But I don't know."

We spent the rest of the afternoon talking. Actually, Carol and Peter did most of the talking -- except on occasions that Carol smiled at Peter and he lost his tongue.

I was surprised at the passage of time, when Ma said suddenly, "Lucy, it's almost dinner time. Go up and change for dinner." A bit resentfully, I went up to change. Peter didn't have to, and I never had to as Luke.

As I went upstairs, I overheard Ma say, "Carol, you're welcome to stay for dinner if you wish."

"Thank you. I'd be very happy to. I'll have to call home and tell Mom and Dad."

As I was deciding on what dress to wear, I imagined Carol changing into one of my dresses. She didn't have to as a guest, and my dresses wouldn't fit her anyway. She was stouter than me, and much taller -- only two or three inches shorter than Peter.

But I tried anyway to imagine her, thinner in one of my dresses. It would almost be the minidress, and would show off her legs. But I don't know why; she just seemed cuter, more attractive, in form-fitting dark jeans and t-shirt.

I heard the garage door signaling Pa's arrival home as I was changing -- and pulled me out of my automation. I noticed that I'd put on a plain yellow dress with pleated skirt, matching knee-length socks, and black flats. I was in the middle of brushing my hair out, and was about to tie my hair in a ponytail with a matching band, and put on matching clips to keep the remaining strands of hair out of my face.

My hair as Lucy was so much longer than Luke's. Now that I had my attention on what I was doing or trying to do, that made it all the harder. But I did eventually manage a half-decent job.

I returned downstairs, and saw Pa and Carol seated, talking with each other, with Peter on her other side also talking. Ma was still in the kitchen, finishing up supper.

Carol turned toward me as I entered. "Wow! You look wonderful!"

"Now I only have to worry about keeping this clean." That was the only thing I could think of to say. Honestly!

"Supper time, everyone!" called Ma from the kitchen.

At the table, I sat next to Carol, and Peter sat across from both of us. Normally, our conversation consisted of random things, with large gaps of silence where we concentrated on eating, and where I (at least) was thinking my own thoughts. However, tonight, both Pa and Peter dominated the conversation, both talking with Carol.

At one point Pa said, "You realize, Peter, that by the time Carol enters Pacific Tech, you will have graduated."

"Maybe Carol graduates high school in three years, like I did," replied Peter.

"I did think of that for a moment, when Peter first mentioned it," said Carol. "But I'm afraid it would make me give up on flute and violin."

"Not necessarily," answered Peter. "You would have to take a couple summer classes. Or maybe study on your own. For example, you could study some geometry on your own over the summer, then place into Algebra II."

"It's too late for that, Peter," answered Pa just a bit aggressively. "It's already August."

I maintained my silence, and my thoughts took over. Peter had suggested exactly that when I was Luke, and I had even done it to some degree. But he'd never suggested anything like that to Lucy. In fact, Lucy hadn't even taken Algebra in eighth grade. The notion apparently hadn't occurred to anyone.

When it was time to take Carol home, Peter and Pa argued about who would take her home. Finally, Pa said, "You need an adult in the passenger seat to drive now. I'm taking her home, and that's final."

"I'm going with you," I said just a bit aggressively.

"I'll go too," said Peter more aggressively.

"Fine. Let's go then," said Pa. We all went out and got into Pa's car -- Carol in the front seat with Pa, and Peter and me in the back, with Peter behind Carol and me behind Pa. Carol had to direct Pa to her house, and we found ourselves in a neighborhood more upscale than our own, with much bigger houses and larger yards.

Carol directed us in front of one of the houses. She opened the door and jumped out. "I'd invite you all in, but it's really late. Some time, I'll invite you all to dinner."

We were all silent as Pa drove us home. When we got home, Ma said, sounding not too happy, "Dan, we have to talk." She practically dragged him into their bedroom.

Peter turned to me and shrugged. I had an idea about what Ma and Pa were talking, and it made me uncomfortable in the extreme.

"I'd better get to the piano," I said. I also had to practice the clarinet as well, and that reminded me of Brandon Oregon. Oh Brandon, I thought, my eyes closing, his visage floating in front, even as I practiced the piano. It took a few minutes for Luke's revulsion to kick in with a shudder and a subvocalized "Ick!" It seemed as if my crush on Mr. Oregon was taking over, and my revulsion at the crush was weakening.

After about half an hour of practice, I went up to my room to practice the clarinet. I managed to disassociate myself from Brandon, and focus on Klose. I knew that Brandon would like me better if I did better on the clarinet.

By the end of this half-hour of practice, I was sleepy and went straight to bed.

Lucy returns to Bikini Beach with her friends. Glenn Matsumoto's work leads him to an unwanted visit to Bikini Beach as well. The final four-sevenths was previously published as "Bikini Beach: Glenn Matsumoto Visits".

        The Disclaimer

Bikini Beach and its main 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.

        Tuesday, August 5

I couldn't wait, I was returning to Bikini Beach to meet the girls again! I was walking to the bus station, and would take the bus to Bikini Beach. I had to hurry, the bus was due to leave shortly. I tried to run, but my muscles were so utterly slow, I was hardly getting anywhere.

Having made it to the mall, I had to push my way through the crowd. But no, the transit center wasn't at the mall, it was a couple blocks away! I had to push my way through the mall, back to an exit close to the transit station.

I was on the bus, and because I was going to Bikini Beach, I had to wear my bikini. But I was a boy and boys didn't wear bikini tops, like girls bras. I quickly removed my top and tossed it away.

The bus arrived at school in good time. As I got off the bus, the children around me pointed at me and shouted, "Hey look! Luke's wearing a bikini bottom!" Everyone was laughing and pointing at me. I was in trouble now, but it was too late to return home for my clothes. I had to attend school as I was. The Principal approached and stood over me, glaring down at me sternly. He opened his mouth, and--

-- I woke up hyperventilating in embarrassment, my heart beating rapidly. I slowed down my breath, and finally got hold of myself, telling myself it was only a dream, another nightmare. Oh, and I was going to wear a one-piece at Bikini Beach this time, not a bikini.

I got up to go to the bathroom, then returned to bed.

        .
        .
        .

Today, being Tuesday, would normally be a free day for me -- free of activities, that is. Of course, we had to listen to the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon, and I had to spend some time helping Ma with the chores. My Lucy voice sounded so much more pleasant on the recording than I remember sounding as Luke.

Peter was with us for breakfast, as was Pa. Pa departed as soon as breakfast ended and the Lesson was finished. Peter stayed for just a moment before departing. "Are you going to Bikini Beach today?"

"I hope Ma lets me."

"Say hello to the twins for me. Ah, and Carol, too." His voice brightened and his face blushed faintly mentioning Carol. It was embarrassing.

That reminded me that I'd forgotten to take the Pill this morning. I had to somehow slip up into my room and take it before I forgot again.

"I understand the twins meet their friends again today," said Ma, who'd overheard the exchange. "Carol was a very nice girl, and I'm sure they're all very nice as well. Are you planning to take the bus again?"

"I'm pretty sure the twins are taking the bus. I hope to take it with them, although I'm sure I can make it on my own if I arrive too late."

"You go and pack your things, and I'll phone Mrs. Miura to ask when to meet the twins," said Ma. I promptly dashed upstairs, and selected one of my one-piece swimsuits.

I didn't want to change into my swimsuit at Bikini Beach, in the woman's changing room. I wanted privacy about changing into my swimsuit, especially if the suit was going to arouse me like my leotard yesterday.

I put things I thought I'd need into my knapsack, including sunscreen and, of course, my Bikini Beach membership pass. I also used that opportunity to take the Pill. Then I undressed and stuffed a clean set of panties and bra in the knapsack.

It was now the time -- no more delay. I put my swimsuit on. Stretching the shoulder straps over my arms and shoulders and letting them snap into place, I was aware of the tightness at my crotch. I couldn't help a high-pitched "Mmmmmmmmmmm!" which I muffled as much as possible, holding my arm up against my mouth. I put a tee-shirt and jeans on over my swimsuit. My jeans felt tight around my hips as I pulled them up, but they slipped into position and felt comfortably snug about my hips, crotch, and waist.

When I got back downstairs, Ma had already finished talking with the twins' mother. "Tracy and Becky have already left home, and their bus to Bikini Beach departs from the transit center in about fifteen minutes. I'll take you to the transit center, and get you a bus-card. Let's go."

Along the way, Ma pointed out a bus stop. "This bus goes to the transit center, where you can change buses for any destination in the city." I'd noticed those signs, and also seen the buses go by, but I'd paid little attention. I knew I'd pay more attention in the future. "The stop closest to our house is actually a block away in the other direction," Ma continued.

Ma arrived at the transit center and parked in one of the drop-off places. "Here's a bus-card machine." Ma indicated a machine a couple stops over. We went over together, and Ma got me twenty dollars worth of bus rides. "You get an extra ride if you spend twenty dollars or more at once," she said. "The bus to Bikini Beach should arrive... around that crowd of girls. You have your Bikini Beach pass, I hope. Here should be enough money for lunch and dinner if necessary." She handed me a bundle, which I stuck in my purse. "Have a wonderful day, and see you this evening."

Ma departed, and I made my way toward the crowd of girls, hoping that I'd find Tracy and Becky, and maybe even Carol or others of the girls.

I found Becky and Tracy in a relatively empty spot a little ways from the crowd of girls.

"Hey Becky, Tracy!" I called out, as I ran toward them.

"Lucy!" they cried out. We met together in hugs and giggles. "Glad you're returning to Bikini Beach," said Tracy.

"Of course! Your friends are all wonderful, I want to see them all again. Oh, by the way, Peter said to say hi."

I stood back and looked them both over. Tracy was wearing an overlong translucent tee-shirt over her bikini, while Becky wore shorts and tee-shirt and, like myself, was carrying a knapsack. I could see through the tee-shirt that, like me, she was wearing a one-piece.

Becky giggled. "Tracy really enjoys exposing herself and being ogled. Bikini Beach has influenced her. Although Friday was a bit much for her."

"I thought that Bikini Beach was supposed to be a place for girls to enjoy the water without being ogled by boys," I said.

"SOME of us consider Bikini Beach a training ground, preparing girls to go out in public in skimpy clothing, practically naked, without shame." We all jumped, startled and embarrassed. The speaker turned out to be a middle-aged woman, sitting on one of the benches, dressed in a bright green nun's habit. She continued, "Young ladies, if you know what's good for you, you'll avoid that place like the plague and learn to dress modestly."

I was tongue-tied, frozen for words.

Becky wasn't. "And probably miss out on all the fun I could have while I still had the opportunity, right? I don't think I'd be any better off. And I suspect that anything short of a nun's habit violates your sense of modesty. Heh, you probably view even Lucy as immodestly dressed." She indicated me.

"Of course," answered the middle-aged lady, looking me over. "This young lady's form-fitting clothes outline her body and emphasize her naughty bits." I realized my jeans went smoothly down over my crotch, without a bit of space between them, clearly indicating what I now lacked down there. "You can even see her swimsuit through her shirt." She turned toward me. "Believe me, if you were my daughter dressed like that, I'd give you a good switching."

My mind freed up, freeing my tongue. "Perhaps you'd like to see me in a karate uniform instead, Ma'am." I shoved back into a vacant area with a loud, "Hah!" and let loose a roundhouse kick. It was quite sloppy because I wasn't used to my female balance, and I was wearing, as she put it, form-fitting jeans, but it was still a good-sized kick.

"Oh!" she put her hands over her left breast, breathing heavily and rapidly. "How ghastly! I had no idea girls these days were so violent as well as immodest in their dress!"

"Only older ladies like you get to be violent with your switches?"

"Of all the,..." she began. "You can't even tell the difference between discipline and violence!"

"I know what violence is, and you spoke violence with your switch. I only get violent in self-defense, ma'am. Or defending others. Or practicing with a friend or brother, or sister. You really don't want to try switching me or spanking me -- talk about violence! And I like the freedom to wear clothes that I want to wear. I also like the freedom my dear friends here have, to wear the clothes they want to wear."

The middle-aged lady sighed. "Girls these days. Mark my words, young ladies. You'll ultimately come to a bad end, tormented by memories of immodest exposure, and wishing you'd taken my words to heart."

"Oh?" asked Becky inquisitively. "How well do girls at universities such as MIT turn out?"

"I have no idea what this MIT is, but if they have girls dressing like you, you can be sure they turn out rotten."

"It's Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Ma'am," said Tracy. "Come on, girls, looks like the buses have arrived. Let's leave Madam Ignoramus behind." I saw that two buses were there ready to board.

As we waited in line to get on one of the buses, I thought about what I'd said about the freedom to wear clothes that I wanted to wear. I realized that, thanks to Pa, I didn't have that freedom. Sure, I didn't mind wearing jeans and knee-length shorts as Luke or Lucy. Slacks were okay as well. Wearing a dress was still embarrassing, especially a miniskirt with tights at piano lessons and walking through the mall. On the other hand, the Sunday dress was certainly better than my uncomfortable Sunday suit. But short-shorts and tank-tops and other sleeveless shirts? Bikinis as swimwear?

I was letting fear of Pa influence my dress? Perhaps I should assert myself more, or secretly wear short-shorts or miniskirts when he wasn't around. I'd done that a few times in my life, such as July 4th, when I wore a formal miniskirt dress suit primarily for clarinet lesson with Brandon.

Whoa, whoa, what was I thinking! I'm Luke, not Lucy. None of that actually happened! I shuddered at my unwanted crush on Mr. Oregon.

We got on the bus, and Becky managed to find a seat, but insisted Tracy take it. Meanwhile Becky and I stood, and held onto the poles.

"You seem introspective," said Becky.

"Just thinking about what I said earlier, about the freedom to wear what you wished, and thinking about Pa's views on girls in skimpy clothing."

"Your Pa's nothing like that woman back there," said Tracy.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Jeans, capris, and long shorts are fine with him. And he grudgingly accepts short-shorts, leotards, and one-piece swimsuits for swimming, sports, and exercise, although he's uncomfortable with them. I don't think he knows anything about me going to Bikini Beach. I'm not going to tell him, that's for sure."

"Did you notice that Becky's also wearing a one-piece?" Tracy asked me.

"Yeah, I noticed," I said.

Becky giggled. "It's surprising how transparent these tee-shirts are."

"Becky never had problems with bikinis before," continued Tracy. "But this morning, she decided that they were way too revealing. She suddenly became like a born-again prude."

"Hey, you're practically naked in a bikini!" said Becky.

"So she's wearing an old one-piece now. And she realized they're not modest either. Not only that, they have their own problems." Tracy giggled.

"Shut up!" said Becky.

"Especially when they're two years too small." Tracy giggled some more.

"Shuddap, Tracy!" Becky clenched her free hand into a fist, even as she blushed.

"I agree, Tracy. Shut up!" I realized that Becky may have had the problem I had with the swimsuit this morning, as well as yesterday with the leotard.

"I slipped a bikini in her knapsack," continued Tracy, ignoring our requests. "Just in case she changes her mind. But of course, it never really killed anyone to be caught in the middle of a crowd with an uncontrollable powerful orgasm." The last three words were surprisingly loud, as the conversation on the bus had gone silent in the meantime. Tracy gasped, blushed, and buried her face in her hands in her lap.

"Oh, really?" snarked Becky.

Tracy didn't say anything, buried in her shame as she was. I didn't say anything further, and just pretended that I didn't know Tracy. Becky said nothing further, but I could sense her gloating inside at Tracy's predicament.

The conversation on the bus picked up again, and continued (for the most part) as if nothing had happened. I couldn't really tell whether they were talking about us, or ignoring us now.

We arrived at Bikini Beach in due time, and got in a line leading from the bus stop to the turnstiles, for those with membership passes. Tracy called out, "Hey, Vanessa!"

Hearing Vanessa's return greeting in the distance, I looked around, and saw Vanessa along with her mom and little sister in another line for the turnstiles, a line for those who parked their cars.

My Bikini Beach membership pass worked perfectly, and we got through the turnstile before Vanessa's family.

"Let's wait for Vanessa, so we can go in together," I suggested, to Tracy and Becky's agreement. I was stalling, getting progressively more and more nervous, both excited and scared, about entering the Wondrous Ladies Room.

Vanessa came through the turnstile. "Hey, Tracy!" They promptly hugged.

Becky greeted and hugged Vanessa, while I greeted Mrs. King and Helen. "Hello, Mrs. King. Hi Helen!"

"Hi, Lucy!" Helen exclaimed excitedly.

"Hello, Lucy," said Mrs. King. "Always great to meet a friend of Vanessa's."

"Good to see you again!" said Vanessa, as we hugged.

As we walked together to the women's changing room, we passed the men's room.

We entered the women's changing room. To my surprise, we found Carol and Feline both inside. They had already changed into their bikinis and were just coming out of the showers.

Carol promptly hugged me. "Lucy! So great you could come again."

"It's wonderful to see you again," I replied. "Peter said `Hi'."

"I'll be sure to see him again," she replied, as she greeted and hugged the rest of us. "It was hilarious the way Peter and your Pa kept competing for my attention last night. Hilarious, flattering, and just a bit creepy."

"Just a *bit* creepy?" asked Faline. "Why, Lucy's Pa has got to be old enough to be your father! Not only that, he's married to Lucy's Ma... isn't he?"

"Of course," I answered. These insinuations about Pa were beginning to make me sick. "Let's change the subject."

"Will Xena and Jen be coming again?" asked Faline hopefully.

Vanessa answered, "They're coming later. I talked with them yesterday, and they have Cantonese classes today from nine to eleven."

We followed Faline and Carol back to their lockers. A few lockers were still empty here. As I was already wearing my swimsuit under my clothes, I chose a locker at random and removed my tee-shirt and jeans. My flip-flops went on, and I was ready for the shower.

I heard Becky emit a muffled high-pitched moan. At the same time, Tracy said, "Look, both Lucy and Becky are wearing one-piece suits. As if they were modest, appropriately covering their legs and shoulders."

"For modesty in girl's swimwear," said Vanessa, "One has to go back a century in time."

"Do any of you have any idea how practically naked you are in bikinis?" asked Becky in a huff, sweating. She was pulling at the bottom edges of her swimsuit. Her swimsuit was creeping up her down there.

Tracy said, "You don't really think you're swimsuit is any more modest down there than a bikini bottom, right? Not with that wedgie, it isn't. Two sizes too small in precisely the Wrong Plaaarrrallllllgghhh!" Becky had just grabbed Tracy's neck and was yanking her back and forth.

"Enough!" snapped Vanessa, raising her arm to slam down on Becky's arms. Becky let Tracy go. She turned and buried her face in her arms, leaning her forehead against the lockers.

"What did I just do?" Becky wept softly.

Tracy coughed several times before recovering. "Becky, that wasn't nice," she rasped, coughing a couple more times. "Why do you think you had to wear a two-year-old one-piece? You had no problem with bikinis. Both of you even wore bikinis last Saturday, when you first came."

"We had no choice!" Becky turned her head to face Tracy, still teary-eyed.

"Eh? Excuse me?" said Tracy.

"I agree, that doesn't make sense," said Faline.

"Okay, what about `We had no choice' don't you understand?" asked Becky.

"Everything," said Faline and Tracy in unison.

I of course knew perfectly well what Becky meant. I also knew that nobody would believe us, even if we could say it. It would be major embarrassment if they ever found out.

"Like, you couldn't have simply picked out your one-piece and worn that? That, my lovely twin sister, is what's so incomprehensible." She coughed again.

"Hrumph!" said Becky.

Vanessa intervened again. "Tracy, Faline, there are various reasons one might be compelled, or merely feel compelled, to wear a bikini at Bikini Beach. Especially a first-time visitor. Let's just leave it at that. Please, Tracy. You're disturbing both Lucy and Becky. You already got one bad reaction from Becky."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Becky. I'm sorry, Lucy," said Tracy, gently sliding her hands over her hair.

"I'm sorry for..." Becky started crying again.

"I'm sorry, too," said Faline. This led to another group hug among us all. Group hugs almost made the arguments worth it.

As Carol was hugging me, she said, "Lucy, I'm so sorry about yesterday. It wasn't any of my business why or whether you wanted to visit Bikini Beach, and I shouldn't have pushed you."

"Thank you... It's okay," I answered, and we hugged harder.

When we broke apart, I noticed that Becky was out of her one-piece, and putting on the bikini that Tracy had slipped into her knapsack.

We went and showered as a group. The water was surprisingly soothing. Becky went up and soaped Tracy down. I could see the guilt in Becky over what she'd done to Tracy.

Finally we finished showering and went out for a morning of fun at Bikini Beach. I kept thinking of Jen and Xena, hoping they would come. We met up with Carol's sister Nancy and Nancy's friend Cindy, and stayed with them for a while.

Eventually, noon came, and it was lunchtime. As we approached the eating place, we finally met Xena and Jen, still with Jen's mom.

"Hey! You finally made it!" exclaimed Vanessa, as we all surrounded the girls, hugging them. "We were worried you wouldn't come!"

"How was class?" asked Carol.

"It's a bit boring, I'm afraid," answered Xena. "It's mostly the same thing over and over again, with new vocabulary and new characters."

"More advanced classes get more interesting," said Jen. "We're reading a young-adult novel from Hong Kong now."

We went to the eating place near the entrance, and joined Vanessa's mother and sister. Jen and Xena sat with us, even though they'd already eaten before coming to Bikini Beach.

After lunch, we rested for an hour or so in a shady spot near one of the ponds. Several of us dozed off -- I know I did.

Tracy was the last to wake up. We talked quietly among ourselves while she still slept. When she awoke, she said, "I rarely sleep this well. I wish I could sleep here at night."

"That would be cold, possibly wet if if rained, and overall uncomfortable," said Faline.

"True," answered Tracy. "But my sleep has been haunted deep in the background. And I've had nightmares of being stalked by a monster. It feels just like the haunting. But now, no haunting, no nightmares."

"You never told me," said Becky.

"Actually, she mentioned a nightmare last week," I corrected her.

"Yep, you're right," answered Becky.

"I think that was the first one. I had a couple more since. I managed to avoid waking up screaming, at least."

"What kind of dreams?" asked Becky.

"I only have vague images -- can't remember enough to say anything." Tracy wept.

"Everyone, this is getting too depressing. Let's all go have some fun!"

All eight of us had a wonderful time the rest of the day, until Bikini Beach closed at dusk. Aunt Yuko appeared late in the afternoon and joined us.

But finally, Bikini Beach had to close. Aunt Yuko took me home as well as Becky and Tracy, so we didn't have to take the bus home at night.

Aunt Yuko dropped me off first. Ma was away at her Firmlove meeting, but Peter met me when I entered.

"Hi Lucy. Mrs. Matsumoto has invited both of us to join Daisy and her for lunch with Mr. Matsumoto. I said yes for both of us. Was that okay?"

"Sounds good. Thank you, Peter."

"It's scheduled for eleven tomorrow, so that we can make it to Taekwondo and ballet at one." Of course, Peter would make sure there was no conflict. "Mrs. Matsumoto will take you to Mr. Matsumoto's office tomorrow."

The prospect was a bit scary, but of course, I wasn't going to miss it.

"Also," Peter continued, handing me a letter. "This came from Westside High for you. I think it's about marching band."

I opened it, and sighed. I had to show up for band the following three Saturday afternoons before school actually began. We were going to practice marching band before school began. That meant missing time at Bikini Beach with my friends. It also reminded me that school began in three weeks minus a day -- the Monday after my Bikini Beach membership ended and I returned to Luke.

        Wednesday, August 6
        Lunchtime at Mr. Matsumoto's Office

Remembering yesterday's confrontation with the "nun", I considered asserting myself with Pa about freedom to wear what I choose, including bikinis and short-shorts. Unfortunately, down at breakfast, whenever I had the opportunity to do so, I couldn't work up the courage to speak up. Of course, I couldn't speak up during the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon.

Between the Mental Work and the recorded Lesson, Peter remind us, "Lucy and I are having lunch with the Matsumotos. Mr. Matsumoto invited us."

"Mrs. Matsumoto informed me of it yesterday," replied Ma. "It's a splendid idea, and a wonderful opportunity."

"I agree," added Pa. "It's a splendid time to see the business world in action."

I stayed home all morning, helping with chores, reading, practicing clarinet and piano, and even indulging in memories and thoughts of Bikini Beach and my new friends there. About an hour before I had to leave, I began to get ready for lunch with Mr. Matsumoto.

I realized that this was a business lunch. Ballet itself was embarrassing enough, but this time I couldn't wear my ballet leotard and tights under jeans or a ballet rap-around skirt. I had to dress up properly for lunch, and change at the ballet studio. I only hoped I could do it. I knew I would have to do it sooner or later, but the prospect was scary.

I decided to wear my olive miniskirt-jacket outfit -- the same outfit I wore on July 4th for clarinet lessons with Brandon. Ah, Brandon... I let his face float before me, until I shuddered and shook myself, `No no no!' If Pa knew I had this -- well, the confrontation would have occurred right then and there. Ma actually got me this one time when we went shopping this summer. I picked out a white sleeveless blouse, olive anklet socks, and black shoes. I had another set from a couple years back that was now too small. (I'd considered wearing that for Brandon on July 4th, but I decided against it, as it might have split on me.)

As I was about to depart for Daisy's house, Ma came up and said, "That's an excellent outfit for a professional dinner. I heartily approve. Enjoy your dinner. But a sports bag is out of place. Here, take this small briefcase. You can put your ballet kit in that."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll see you later," I said, transferring the contents of my bag to the briefcase.

Daisy opened the door almost promptly when I rang the bell. "Lucy! You look so..." She trailed off, and hugged me. I lifted her up; she felt a whole lot heavier now than when I was Luke. I had to crouch and use my strong leg muscles.

"Hi, Daisy." I let her down.

"Come on in, Lucy. We're about to go." She was wearing an almost adult-like navy-blue skirt and jacket, with a white blouse. She even wore tights with miniature heals!

Then I saw Mrs. Matsumoto. I didn't conk out as I did as Luke, but she was still gorgeous -- especially in an adult version of Daisy's dress suit. Together, they made an awesome identical mother-daughter image.

"Mrs. Matsumoto!" I shook her hand, and then she embraced me in a hug. I hugged her back, but didn't attempt to lift her up -- especially since she was taller and heavier than me.

"Shall we go now?"

We got in her car, and drove to Mr. Matsumoto's law office.

Peter was already in the front waiting room when we arrived, talking with the secretary. He was wearing his own suit.

Peter turned at our entrance. "Looks like they've arrived. Hey, ladies!"

I noticed how Peter briefly glanced at Mrs. Matsumoto, before Daisy embraced him. "This is my kid sister, Lucy." He told the secretary, indicating me.

The secretary stood up, and we shook hands, and then she shook hands with Mrs. Matsumoto. "Mr. Matsumoto is still in his office, drafting a motion. I expect him out shortly. Please, all of you, have a seat."

I sat down, and Daisy glanced from Peter to me before coming and sitting on my lap.

I turned at the sound of someone entering, a boy a year or two older than me, I guessed. He looked around before his attention zeroed on Mrs. Matsumoto. She stood up as he went to her.

"Hey, gorgeous! What's say we go off and find a nice quiet place for some fun!" He was about to embrace her. Peter jumped up to intervene, but too fast for me to do anything other than blink, Mrs. Matsumoto did something and the boy was on his back on the floor.

"Oh, I'm so in love," the boy exclaimed to the ceiling. "This lovely lady is so hot, so sexy!"

"She's also my wife, young man," growled Mr. Matsumoto, emerging from his office.

"Dad," said Daisy. "Something's driving him."

"What do you mean, Daisy?" asked Mr. Matsumoto.

"I can't say it, but it feels like something strange in his mind is pushing him to behave like that. He also imagines himself a lady!"

"Yes!" exclaimed the boy excitedly. "Yes-yes-yes! I'm so in love!"

Daisy continued, "He was saying `yes' to what I told you. He came here because he wants to talk to a lawyer, any lawyer. When he's alone, he's so angry about always failing, always destroying himself."

It was just an instant, but I spotted a flash of gratitude and surprise in his expression, glancing at Daisy.

"Excuse me, Daisy. I have to get up," I said. She quickly dismounted from my lap and I stood up and nervously approached Mr. Matsumoto. I tried to speak softly so that only he would hear what I said. "Mr. Matsumoto, there's something about Bikini Beach that may help him." I was wondering how I could possibly explain without sounding crazy, about Bikini Beach changing boys to girls, and affecting their memories.

He grimaced, but said, "Thank you Lucy, that is an idea." He went over to his wife. "Ellen, we have to talk alone. Sorry, everyone." They entered his office.

I never even get a chance to explain my idea!

That was probably a good thing, now that I thought of it. It meant that he must have known something about Bikini Beach, and was taking Daisy and me seriously.

Meanwhile that boy returned to his feet. He turned to me, leering lecherously. "Hey, babe." He approached.

I was paralyzed with fright for a moment, before I remembered. I jumped back into a TKD fighting stance, shouting, "Hah!"

"Ooooooooo, I so love Hot Action Babes," said the boy as he approached, but Peter grabbed him by the shoulder and twisted him around.

"Buster, stay away from my sister," said Peter. "Unless you want your life expectancy slashed."

Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto returned to the outer room. "Young man, I may be able to take you on as client or refer you to another attorney better qualified for your case. But first, you must accompany me somewhere that might help your mind."

"No psychiatrist, no psychologist!" the boy exclaimed.

"No, not those. Someone who may address the problem more directly. I'm sorry, everyone, but our lunch date is off. This must be done immediately. Peter, I request your help escorting this young man to my car."

"Of course, sir," he said.

Mr. Matsumoto took him by the arm, and Peter followed behind them as they left the suite. The last I heard from them was Mr. Matsumoto asking his name. "We can't keep calling you `Young Man'."

"Or 'Buster'," added Peter.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Matsumoto, all of you," said the secretary. "Maybe the lunch date can be rescheduled another time."

"That's okay. Thank you very much," said Mrs. Matsumoto.

Daisy and I followed Mrs. Matsumoto back to the car. "Would you like me to drop you off anywhere, Lucy?"

"How about the mall?" I asked. Ballet was there, and perhaps I might meet Becky and Tracy, and possibly even Carol!

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

GLENN AND PETER escorted the boy, who had given his name as Jim, to Glenn's car. Jim got into the front passenger seat. As Glenn went around and entered the driver's seat, he said, "Peter, I don't think I'll need you any further. Thank you for your service."

Glenn drove off, heading for Bikini Beach. Inside, he was a bundle of nerves, and he kept telling himself, `Keep this professional, strictly professional. I am asking for a service for which I will pay a fee. Don't confront Grandmother with my views of her practice.' The thoughts kept running through his mind.

"Where are we going?" Jim asked.

"Bikini Beach. They have facilities to help you."

"Be still, my heart!" He breathed heavily. "Acres and acres of lovely ladies and gorgeous girls in abbreviated attire. Peter should really have come!"

Glenn fumed a moment, then told himself that if Daisy was right, this jackassery was imposed on him. That reference to Peter, it occurred to Glenn, cheering up his mood, may have slipped under the radar: Peter was needed to help Glenn keep control.

Eventually, Glenn turned off the freeway and reached the Bikini Beach parking. He drove up to the drop-off area. To his surprise, Grandmother herself was waiting, and she waved and signaled him to stop in front of her.

Glenn got out of the car and walked around to greet Grandmother, holding his hand out for a handshake, which Grandmother shook firmly. "Good day, Ma'am. I wish to consult with you about a professional matter." He went to the passenger door and opened it, letting Jim out, and taking his shoulder. "This young man is a potential client, but he has a certain difficulty describing his situation or articulating his desires." `Strictly professional. Strictly professional,' Glenn's mind echoed. He was concerned that he'd gone personal by insinuating a problem of his with Bikini Beach practice, even though his statement was accurate. "I wish to stay with him until we resolve his issue, so do you have valet parking? And what do you charge?"

"Normally, we don't do valet parking," replied Grandmother. "However, I do see your problem, and an employee will be out shortly to park your car." Grandmother quoted a fee.

"That's eminently reasonable," said Glenn. "I will require a receipt, of course." Glenn got out his wallet and paid the fee. The employee came out, wearing a Bikini-Beach tee-shirt over a bikini, and Glenn squeezed Jim's arm an instant to remind him, reminding himself as well that he had a perfectly wonderful wife -- and that this would be out of range of the permitted. She had a receipt pad, from which Grandmother made out the receipt.

"Good day miss," he greeted the employee. "Here are the keys." He handed her the keys, slipping her a couple dollar coins as tip.

Grandmother led Glenn and Jim into her office, meanwhile describing her consulting fees, including progressive deductions for length and number of memberships purchased.

"Your fees are reasonable, Ma'am, and I agree to them. Confidentiality is another issue. Whenever someone consults with me in my position as a lawyer, I must maintain confidentiality. I am allowed to consult with experts, or obtain services, and provide the necessary information, but I must require similar confidentiality from them."

Once they were seated in Grandmother's office, Glenn opened his briefcase and handed Grandmother a sheet. "This is my standard confidentiality agreement." Glenn was worried. Not only was he scared of Bikini Beach and upset about what had happened to Alan/Ellen ten years earlier, he would really be at a loss if Grandmother refused the agreement. He was consulting with Bikini Beach's Grandmother only because he knew of no one else.

Fortunately, Grandmother said, "I have no problem with this agreement," and signed it. Glenn promptly signed it as well.

"I see a problem with this young man," Grandmother continued. "I have blocked the bimbo spell he's been under, but the block has to be temporary -- at least until we figure out what to do."

"Thank you, thank you! Thank you, ma'am!" exclaimed Jim.

"The problem is the mage who transformed him," continued Grandmother. "If we reverse the transformation, or remove the bimbo spell for more than twenty or thirty minutes, it becomes likely that the mage will detect it. Consequently, time is critical. So, young man, let's hear your story."

Glenn had his notebook and pen all ready.

"My real name is Wendy Levine, and I was 28 years old at the time. I was a graduate student at the University in the neuroscience department, and my family lives in another part of the country. I was approached by someone a couple years ago, and we discussed my research for a little, and then he promptly offered a huge salary to join his team of research scientists. By that time, I was having serious ethical issues with my work. To make a long story short, I ultimately declined the offer, and I was changed to persuade me to reconsider my decision."

It occurred to Glenn that the use of magic might render legal solutions useless, and he might be out of his league.

"Now, as far as most everyone knows, I am James Steedman, fifteen years old, sophomore-to-be at East High, football player, and resident slime-bucket to the girls -- although many girls take to it. Mr. Matsumoto, I hope you accept my apologies on behalf of your wife and your visitors."

"I accept. I realize you weren't yourself at the time."

"Thank you. My so-called parents were both strangers when I first woke up in bed in their house. They behaved as if I were always their son, and I couldn't behave otherwise. I would have thought it was pretense on their part, if I weren't compelled myself. My brother and sisters all seem to believe as well." He paused. "I realize that this is totally unbelievable."

"I agree, it would sound unbelievable," said Glenn, "if we weren't at a place where such things are practiced." `Keep it professional,' he thought to himself. `Keep personal issues out.'

Grandmother said, "Mr. Matsumoto is correct about the nature of Bikini Beach. Here, men and boys who visit become girls and women for the duration of their guest passes."

"Does that mean you can reverse this and I can become Wendy again?" asked Jim eagerly?

"We could, but because of the mage who transformed you, we won't restore you until we've dealt with him or her. We wish to keep him as ignorant as possible of what's happening. We will even have to return you as the `slime-bucket' if we can't come up with a plausible reason for you to change.

"For now, we need to provide a cover for Mr. Matsumoto to interview you properly, as your potential attorney." Grandmother looked at both Glenn and Jim. "Here's my proposal: Jim, you tried your schtick on a girl you met near downtown. She, to your surprise, joined you and proposed an afternoon together at Bikini Beach. You agreed for (*throat-clearing*) obvious reasons, and as a shock to the system, you became a girl yourself.

"Mr. Matsumoto, you would have to be that girl who encounters Jim and takes him to Bikini Beach: a sixteen-year-old girl just getting off from work. For reasons you'll understand, you and Jim took the bus here instead of driving."

Grandmother paused, apparently awaiting a reaction.

`Keep it strictly professional,' Glenn told himself, shuddering internally. `Do what's needed professionally. Don't let either fear or personal resentments rule you.' "That sounds reasonable. But what about your reality-shifts?" That was what disturbed Glenn the most, the affects on people's minds and memories.

"On Jim's part, it would be a standard local shift. When she gets home tonight, the girl Jim will be thought of as a daughter and sister until sometime around midnight. The next day, they will only remember Jim, and forget that he visited Bikini Beach.

Grandmother turned to Jim. "If, as I suspect, your family consists only of non-magical innocents or lackeys of the villains, they won't know any better. If one of your family members is a mage, especially the mage who changed you, he'll know. We hope, but we can't be certain, that he'll only see the cover story -- the trip with the girl to Bikini Beach for the day. If you can identify the mage, please, it's critically important, inform me as soon as you can.

"As for you, Mr. Matsumoto, we need to establish the cover story. It has to be a global reality-shift, in which, outside of Jim's local shift, you as the girl brought Jim the boy to Bikini Beach for a fun afternoon as a girl plus an attitude change. You will be your wife's oldest daughter. Your wife will now be a single mother, with a corresponding drop in your standard of living. Don't worry; it will last only until around two tonight. You will retain all the information, including the notes that you take here today and any other research you may do.

"You would have to go in first, to establish the global reality-shift, where you bring Jim here. You will know what to do when you change. Is this satisfactory?"

Glenn was seriously frightened, but he tried to keep it in. "It will do. Jim?"

"It's great!"

"I'll sell you two single-afternoon guest passes, and today's consultation will be free. It will be important, of course, for you to make optimal use of your time here to get all the information possible -- but also enjoy the attractions here just in case we've attracted the attention of the mage."

Grandmother prepared two guest passes for them, and quoted a rather expensive price. Glenn paid by credit card. "I have to phone my wife and also my paralegal, before doing anything."

"Certainly," said Grandmother, handing him a phone.

First, Glenn called his office manager and paralegal, Darline, and told her that he would be out of the office the rest of the day. Then he called home, hoping Ellen would be home by then.

"Hello?" answered Ellen.

"Hi Dear," said Glenn. "I'm at Bikini Beach now."

"I was hoping you'd find an alternative, but I guess it was necessary."

"The problem is serious, and I have to spend the rest of the afternoon here to take his case."

"I take it that means..." Ellen trailed off.

"It's only this afternoon and tonight, but our living situation will change. I don't know how." That last wasn't exactly a lie, because he didn't know how their situation would change. It would lose face to state outright that he'd be a teenage girl, Ellen's older daughter. The prospect itself was scaring him.

"Just don't get yourself trapped, Honey," said Ellen. "You have no idea what traps exist until you set one off, in which case it's too late."

Glenn shuddered, thinking back a decade earlier, when Alan had been his best friend and college roommate, until crossing Bikini Beach. Even then, Alan's change to Ellen would only have lasted a month, except that Glenn had knocked up Ellen, freezing the change permanently. Fortunately, things had worked out very well, and neither Glenn nor Ellen would give up (or kill off) Daisy for anything.

Now, if they were trapped, they would all be trapped in the impoverished life of a single mother.

"I'll do my best," he said.

"Love-ya," said Ellen.

"Love you too. Bye." Glenn hung up.

"Neither of you will become pregnant today, the primary trap that would force you to stay transformed for life," said Grandmother. "Both of you will be girls on the Pill, having taken it this morning and consistently the past couple of years. Mr. Matsumoto, it's your time to go. Shower; the water does the change. Best wishes."

Glenn took his pass and went to the men's changing room. He hesitated at the changing room a good solid minute before opening the door and entering. There was no way he could mentally prepare himself for what he knew was coming. Was he really going to change? To a girl? To a teenage girl?

He would know what to do, Grandmother said. He hoped he would do the right thing.

After showering, Glenn realized that he was now a girl named "Glinda", and Ellen was now her mom. He felt strange all over. Despite Grandmother's assurances, he didn't know what to do. He decided to return to his locker--

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

Glinda was still in her McDonald's uniform, sitting between Jim and the window on the bus to Bikini Beach. The bus was exiting the freeway. Jim's arm rested on the seat back behind her, and just then he placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned her head and smiled back at him.

Jim was such a hunk, and was even being nice for now. Too bad his famed infamous sliminess had to emerge when she'd suggested the afternoon and evening at Bikini Beach: "Acres and acres of lovely ladies and gorgeous girls in abbreviated attire!" She thought that perhaps an afternoon spent on her side of the eternal gender divide might just be the thing to smooth out his rough edges. It occurred to her with a momentary pang of surprising jealousy, that that would probably make him irresistibly attractive to all girls everywhere. As it was, many girls apparently took to his very sliminess.

Back at the transit center, she'd phoned Mom at work and told her about taking a friend to Bikini Beach. She wondered if Mom knew anything about Bikini Beach's changing boys to girls. If Mom did, she didn't give any indication; Mom only wished her a fun afternoon. The hint of disapproval was no doubt due to Bikini Beach's well-known expensive memberships and guest passes.

Then at the bus stop, he'd scanned the waiting ridership, mostly girls already in their swimwear under tee-shirts, and said, "Oh my, the steam's going to fog up the whole bus. How is the driver ever going to make it to our destination?! This bus is going to be a sauna, with all the beauteous babes in bikinis."

`Little does he know,' chuckled Glinda to herself. `He's going to be one himself.'

"Of course," Jim continued, turning back to Glinda, "You out-steam them all, you in your lovely McDonald's uniform." He scanned her up and down. "I fear for my heart, when I see you on the other side of the changing rooms."

"Oh, poof!" Glinda exclaimed. "Flatterer!" She swatted him lightly in affection.

The bus arrived at Bikini Beach, and they disembarked with the rest of the passengers.

The lines weren't long at all at this time of day, and in almost no time, they reached the ticket booth.

"Hello, may I help you?" asked the young lady manning the booth.

"We wish to purchase two guest passes for the afternoon," said Glinda.

"We have a three-week special, for the price of three day passes," said the ticket lady.

"I'm afraid we must decline the offer. Maybe next time. For now, just the afternoon and evening."

As Glinda handed over her credit card, Jim fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I should pay."

"No, you're my guest here," said Glinda, as the lady took and swiped her credit card. "Miss, our decision to visit Bikini Beach was spontaneous, and we didn't stop to get swimwear, assuming that Bikini Beach would have some for sale."

"Certainly. We carry a variety, which we sell at excellent prices." She directed them to a table off to the side.

A tiny blue and silver thong bikini beckoned to Glinda. Now *that* would be daring, she thought excitedly. Bikinis were routine, ordinary, boring, and conservative. Mom need never know if she wore this at Bikini Beach.

A middle-aged woman also looking over the swimsuits leaned over and said softly, "Young lady, you probably don't want to be in one of those for hours on end. Not unless you're the masochistic type who enjoys being sawed in half down there. Dental floss is meant to clean your teeth."

Glinda quickly dismissed the woman's advice, realizing that this just might be her once-in-a-lifetime chance to wear such a thing. Meanwhile, Jim got swimming trunks extending down to his knees. Glinda was surprised; she expected something more in the spirit of Speedos, or at least the old-fashioned swimwear boys used to wear a generation earlier, considerably shorter than these days.

"Shower when you change," said the saleslady, as Jim this time paid for both swimsuits. "It's a Bikini Beach health requirement."

Jim and Glinda went to their respective locker rooms. Glinda hoped she would recognize the female Jim on the other side.

        That Evening

GLENN, NOW GLINDA, a sixteen-year-old Japanese-American girl, got off the bus from Bikini Beach with Wendy. It was now eight-thirty and already dark. They'd had lots of fun at Bikini Beach.

Glinda had recovered her memories of Glenn, and the job she had to do, in the showers of the women's changing room. She realized that Grandmother had temporarily made her completely Glinda in the men's changing room and shifted her to the bus, to keep the situation as plausible as possible. Jim had probably temporarily forgotten his purpose and reality as Wendy.

As a side bonus, Glinda remembered Alima al-Hamdani, who had consulted Glenn a week earlier. She realized that Glenn had completely forgotten her. As soon as Glenn returned, he would have to go back and check his records. Right then and there, Glinda extracted her notebook and jotted down everything she remembered about al-Hamdani's consultation. She suspected that his complete loss of memory of her and her consultation was due to a reality shift. A mage may have done something to her.

She'd had to push through the mortification and physical strangeness of being a hot teenybopper girl, especially in the skimpy thong bikini. She'd wondered what possessed her to choose it, but now she had to live with it.

Worse still, she'd discovered that she really was that masochistic type the woman had alluded to. She thought back to accounts Glenn had once read about the most brutally painful ways of death, and thought she might actually enjoy being inverted and sawed in half down through the crotch.

She'd recognized Wendy, the female Jim, immediately. She was wearing an identical thong bikini except for the green color. They'd both gone bug-eyed at each other upon meeting. But Wendy's mind was apparently the mind of the original Wendy.

Wendy had recovered first, and spoken. "Shall we get down to business now?"

"Yes, of course," said Glinda, now with Glenn's mind.

During their enjoyment of the activities -- waiting in line and relaxing at the pools -- she'd obtained plenty of information from Wendy. How useful it would prove, that was another question; it was primarily about the research done in her department. The use of magic had changed things, and she now suspected that she was out of her league, where the law would be useless in solving the problem. Nevertheless, once she turned back to Glenn, he would do his best to help Jim.

Bikini Beach was intended as a place girls and women could relax, enjoy swimming, and enjoy the waterpark rides without boys ogling them. It didn't keep half the girls they met from ogling them, though. But they both managed to disregard them and do their work and enjoy the activities.

At one point, Glinda brought up Alima al-Hamdani, and asked if Wendy knew her. She thought the apparent Bikini-Beach-type reality shifts were a point of commonality in the two cases.

"She joined our department shortly before I got zapped," replied Wendy. "I never got to know her, and I never thought of her while I was Jim."

So that was al-Hamdani's "true major", Glinda realized. Wendy explained that the department was a combination of magical studies and applied neuroscience with emphasis on mind influence.

They both went to see Grandmother to discuss al-Hamdani's issue. Grandmother agreed to check to see if a reality-shift occurred. "It's also possible that you were bespelled to forget Ms. al-Hamdani."

"I'll check my records back in the office tomorrow," Glinda said, noting it in her notebook. "I assume correctly that I'll still remember this, Ma'am?"

"Yes, you will remember, as long as the mage doesn't find out and have a chance to bespell you."

"So, if my notes of Miss al-Hamdani are intact, that means that I was simply spelled to forget, but if my notes are gone, that means a reality-shift."

"Probably, although the mage could as well make the notes disappear. The simplest way would be to see if the University has any records of such a student."

"Of course," Glinda said.

After bidding Wendy goodbye at the transit center, she automatically went to the bus that stopped near the apartment building she now lived in. She was momentarily disoriented when she realized where she was going, but then remembered.

She spotted a black man who lived with his little sister on the same floor as herself. "Hey, Andy." She went up to him.

"Hi, Glinda. How have you been?" he asked.

"Today was fun. This afternoon, I went with a friend to Bikini Beach." Of course, Glinda didn't tell him it was a guy, and calling him a friend was a minor exaggeration -- although if Glinda remained Glinda, she could envision them becoming friends or more. She wasn't going to say anything about Bikini Beach's transformations.

The bus was ready to board. She sat next to him, and they continued talking. "Interesting," he said. "Jen's mom took Jen and Xena to Bikini Beach last Saturday. She got them long memberships in the water park." He sighed. "They went again yesterday. Jen and Xena have been together so much -- Xena's even taking summer classes with Jen; she's practically moved in with her, and often speaks Chinese with her. They've already made new friends at Bikini Beach, so I'm probably going to see even less of Xena than before."

Glinda felt sorry for him. Xena was a nice little sister, only about three years younger than herself.

Eventually, they got off the bus and walked the half block to their apartment building, and upstairs to the second floor. Glinda momentarily thought of giving Andy a hug, but decided against it. Andy opened the door, and first Xene then Jen appeared.

"Hi, Jen and Xena. Andy, looks like Jen's sleeping over for the night. Good night, all."

"Bye" and "Good night," said everyone.

It occurred to Glinda, as she continued on to her own apartment, that she had just passed the one possible trap: possibly making love with Andy and getting pregnant despite her birth control pills. Now, if no one invaded the apartment and raped her...

As she inserted her key and opened the door, she wondered if Ellen or Daisy would remember her as Glenn. It momentarily occurred to her that they might be back at the old house. But no, Ellen greeted her as she entered.

"Hi Glinda." They hugged. "How was Bikini Beach?"

Glinda stood back and looked Ellen over. Mom -- she had to think of her as Mom now -- looked older, tired, care-worn, jaded. She now had to work to support Glinda and Daisy, as well as take care of them. It occurred to Glinda that Mom might have been unhappy with the expense -- and also with Glinda going to Bikini Beach. But she wouldn't bring it up if Mom didn't.

"It was fun for both of us, a new experience." She didn't know if Mom knew that she had taken a guy to be changed, or that she had done it to untwist his mind and get necessary information. In fact, in this reality, Mom had never told Glinda or Daisy about her own experience with Bikini Beach. "Hey, Daisy!"

Daisy was approaching slowly and warily from the hallway, dressed in her sleepwear, apparently ready for bed.

Ellen awaits in terror as her older daughter Glinda visits Bikini Beach. Her younger daughter Daisy reveals that her imagined horrors could never stack up against Reality. The first half of this part was previously published as "Bikini Beach: Ellen's Daughter Visits". Thursday morning marks the restoration of the Really Real Reality -- or does it?

        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.

        Wednesday Night, August 6

ELLEN ISAMU WATANABE, single mother of two daughters, was hard at work at her home computer. She wanted to finish this part of her project at work as soon as possible. Also, she wanted to set aside, even if only temporarily, her fear of her older daughter's afternoon visit to Bikini Beach.

Glinda was sixteen now, earning her own money working at McDonald's. She was perfectly capable of making her own decisions on such matters. She was an ordinary paying female Bikini Beach patron, the kind of person the waterpark was created for. Nothing untoward should happen.

Such a thing would be bad for business, Ellen tried to convince herself.

Glinda would undergo nothing like Ellen's experience ten years earlier, when she joined four boys and another girl and climbed over Bikini Beach's wall at midnight as a prank.

Nevertheless, when Glinda had called during Ellen's lunch break at noon, and informed Ellen that she was going to Bikini Beach with a friend for the rest of the day, she couldn't help thinking back on her own experience with considerable fright and bitterness. She couldn't help fearing for Glinda.

Four boys and two girls had scaled the wall into Bikini Beach that night. Three boys and three girls had climbed back out -- directly into the clutches of Bikini Beach's "Grandmother" waiting just outside.

It wasn't merely that one of the boys, her friend Marcos, had somehow turned into a girl inside Bikini Beach. His change had lasted only a couple of months. It was not only Grandmother's scolding, even though her severest was aimed squarely at Ellen. It was all the talk then, and again with Grandmother later, that made her seriously question her memory. Had only Marcos changed? Or did all the boys change? Did the other girl change? Maybe nobody changed. Maybe only her memory was ripped apart, warped, gaslighted as in the old movie.

When she'd returned home from work, supper seemed a lonely, quiet affair with only Daisy and herself. Ellen had told Daisy that Glinda was with a friend at Bikini Beach. Daisy had asked, "Does Glinda have a boyfriend?"

That had given Ellen pause. "I don't know," she eventually answered, following up with, "What brought this on?" She was pretty sure that Glinda would have told her first thing about any boyfriend, but for the unpleasantness three or four years back with Andrew Anderson.

Glinda had been thirteen at the time, and Andy must have been around twenty when he moved in. He was also black, and Ellen shamefully admitted to herself that racism had influenced her bad reaction to Glinda's crush on Andy. He'd turned out a wonderful neighbor, friendly and helpful. His little sister was living with him now, to have a better education and living environment, he said.

Ellen even thought of possibly dating him herself, even though he was eight or so years younger.

"Oh, I just thought of it," answered Daisy. "Perhaps she took a boy to Bikini Beach. I don't know why I'm thinking this."

Ellen wondered how much Daisy knew, even at nine, about teen girls and boyfriends.

Daisy had gone out to play with friends and neighbors after supper, leaving Ellen with her own thoughts. She'd gotten quickly to work, to suppress her fears. She still couldn't help fearing for Glinda at Bikini Beach, and the strange things that might happen, or might even have already happened!

Might Bikini Beach have changed Glinda to a boy? To a frog, perhaps? From all that talk, Grandmother did sound like a witch. Maybe... maybe... she made Glinda forget about her family, or destroy her family. Perhaps even make Glinda hate Ellen! So many things could go wrong, when Bikini Beach was involved.

Ellen panicked for a moment, and cried out in terror, when her imagination got too active. She kept reminding herself that Bikini Beach was made for girls and Glinda was an ordinary paying girl. Nothing bad or strange should happen. It would be bad for business.

Just keep grounded in that, she kept telling herself. Just focus on that.

Ellen was in control of herself by the time Daisy returned home at 8:30, and was hard at work. Daisy promptly went to her room. Ellen knew she was preparing for bed, but suspected that she wouldn't go to bed for some time. Daisy would probably spend half an hour or so reading, possibly awaiting Glinda's return.

Finally, after minutes inched by like hours, Ellen heard the door unlock and open. Glinda was home! The moment of truth was at hand: what, if anything, did Bikini Beach do? Ellen jumped and ran to greet Glinda. "Hi, how was Bikini Beach?"

Glinda hugged her. "It was great! Fun for both of us, a new experience. Hey, Daisy!"

Daisy, in her sleepwear now, was approaching Glinda warily, very much unlike Daisy's usual boisterous self. Ellen wondered what she knew about Bikini Beach. Had she heard rumors? Was she afraid for Glinda? Afraid that something might have happened to Glinda? Afraid of Glinda?

"Dad?" asked Daisy, sounding very unsure.

Glinda knelt to Daisy's height, and looked straight in her eyes. "Do you remember me, Daisy?"

"Oh Daddy, it is you! It is you!" Daisy rushed and hugged Glinda.

"You didn't! They didn't!" Realization hit Ellen sudden and hard: Bikini Beach! Was Glinda's very existence phony? Ellen's whole life a lie? Out of all nightmarish possibilities, that one had never even occurred to her.

Her daughters flinched and looked up at her like terrified children about to be shredded by Mega-Monster Mama. Thoughts shot rapid-fire through her mind -- fast, furious, foul, and filthy. `Damn fucking Bikini Beach to Hell, transforming people, gaslighting the shit out of us all, fucking up everyone's lives, scattering them around like fucking ants in a fucking ant-hill. If I could, I'd rip that fucking Grandmother of theirs apart, and feed her to the fucking sharks and fucking crocodiles.' She thought back to an old shark- and crocodile-infested nightmare.

Ellen only snapped out of it when she heard Daisy's frightened words, "Mommy, Mommy! You're scaring me! You're shouting out bad words about Bikini Beach and Grandma! You want to hurt them badly!"

Ellen almost collapsed physically, as her uncontrolled fury ran out, realizing that Daisy was reading her mind. "Oh Daisy, I didn't mean Grandma Watanabe, but the old woman who owns Bikini Beach. I'm so sorry! Can you really read my mind like that?"

"Mom, your mind's shouting. I can only read minds a little bit."

`Sure, why not?' thought Ellen to herself. `After all, if Bikini Beach can change boys to girls, or mess up our memories, why can't my little daughter read minds?' She guessed that Daisy picked her dad out of Glinda's mind.

She turned to Glinda, who was standing up now. "If you're not Glinda, where is she and what happened to her?"

"I'm Glinda," she replied.

"She's Glinda, but she's also Daddy," added Daisy.

"Oh?"

"Daddy took that boy to Bikini Beach, to fix him up." Ellen couldn't help staring blankly. "Daddy didn't like Bikini Beach. He was mad at them, and scared. He kept shouting, over and over again, things like, `Keep it professional.'" She turned back to Glinda. "Daddy, I don't think turning into a girl is very professional."

Glinda turned to Daisy. "Daisy, it's not nice to tease someone about her embarrassing predicament."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Daddy." Daisy hugged Glinda again, then stepped back and looked Glinda over. "You're very pretty, Daddy. Peter would have loved to meet you. Mommy, please don't hate Glinda. Don't hate Daddy!"

Ellen was shocked and disturbed when she realized that she'd somehow turned to hate the young lady, her beloved first daughter, the love of her life, whom she'd born at fifteen and raised with her family's help, and then with the help of other single parents at college.

"You are Daisy's father?" Ellen challenged Glinda. "If so state your name."

"Glinda Wa-- I mean Glinda -- I mean -- oh crap!"

"Daddy's trying to say Glenn Matsumoto," said Daisy. "But he can't."

"Thank you!" Glinda sighed and visibly relaxed.

"Glenn!" whispered Ellen. Glenn Matsumoto, the man she could never think about without utter loathing and hatred. The man she once dated, and had fallen hard for. He got her pregnant with Daisy around the same time as the Bikini Beach business, then broke up with her that summer. Her love had turned to hatred, so much so that she refused to accept the child-support checks he'd sent purely voluntarily, burning them instead of depositing them.

"Mom, please!" cried Daisy. "Don't hate Daddy, he never betrayed you. You and Dad are married! You even did your tenth an-ni-ver-sary last June. Please, Mommy, Please! Hate Bikini Beach instead, not Daddy, please!"

Ellen could see that Daisy was on the verge of tears. Glinda leaned down and picked her up, and she cried on Glinda's shoulder.

"Mom," said Glinda, "I can find somewhere else to crash for the night. This will--" Glinda paused. "You will never see me again." Glinda was leaking tears.

"Take me with you, Glinda! I don't want to lose you," cried Daisy.

Ellen turned away from them, bent over, covered her face, and began bawling her eyes out. Her residual hatred vanished in her wailing distress.

"Mom!" exclaimed both Daisy and Glinda from behind her. Both were trying to hug her. She let Glinda lead her to an armchair in the living room, where she collapsed and continued to cry.

"I don't want to lose you, Glinda. Neither of you. I love you both so much!" bawled Ellen.

"Please, Mom!" said Glinda. "Daisy will still be here. We'll always have Daisy!"

"And Daddy, Glenn Matsumoto, will be back tomorrow!" added Daisy. "Glinda will change back to him."

"And I'll forget Glinda ever existed. That's how Bikini Beach works. Right?" Ellen bawled anew.

"I'm sorry, sorry, so very, very sorry," Glinda said tearfully. If Ellen had any uncertainty before, Glinda confirmed her fear. "But I think Daisy will remember Glinda, to some extent. She remembered me. We've always said that with Bikini Beach, we can never know what really happened. With Daisy, we might be able to."

"Glinda, I felt that way for several months after my experience with Bikini Beach, but I'm sure I never told you about it, and I'm sure neither of us ever discussed Bikini Beach even."

"Mom, your experience with Bikini Beach -- that was the time Billy got up at three or so in the morning, and caught you coming in naked?"

Ellen got a coughing fit. Daisy giggled. "Nobody ever told me that, Mom."

"I take it Billy told you, Glinda?" Ellen asked.

"Yeah," answered Glinda.

"I'm not surprised. But that midnight visit to Bikini Beach was only the beginning. We encountered Grandmother just after climbing out. I'm only going to tell what I remember, but as I discovered at the end of the semester, my memories might well have been false. I remember one boy became a girl, but the way they all talked later at the end of the semester, they might all have become girls. Not only that, the other girl who went with us might have been a boy."

"And for all you know, you might have been a boy when you climbed over the wall into Bikini Beach," said Glinda.

Ellen glanced sharply at Glinda. "It was all that talk when we visited Bikini Beach's Grandmother. I felt as if my memories were under wholesale attack -- I was being gaslighted. Anyway, I want to tell what I remember.

"I was a naughty girl a good part of the time growing up, and sometimes in college. If I'd been a good little girl, neither of you girls would have existed. That night at Bikini Beach was one of my naughty times. I joined four boys and another girl, going down to Bikini Beach and climbing over their wall. We swam and left posters -- that's all we did, careful not to do any damage.

"Also," Ellen paused and laughed softly. "Just before climbing over the wall, we decided to skinny-dip. One of the boys became a girl while we were inside -- that was Marcos."

"Uncle Marcos?" asked Daisy.

"Yes," answered Ellen. Marcos wasn't their uncle; Glinda and Daisy simply called him that. He was a good family friend, a friendship boosted when he (at the time, "she") defended Ellen against Grandmother's severe scolding.

Ellen continued her story. "Grandmother accosted us as soon as we climbed back over the wall out of Bikini Beach.

"As I recall, she was mostly snarky with the others, but she reserved her major tongue-lashing for me personally, and it was largely about you, Glinda: about how you missed me, I spent too much time in frivolity away from you, perhaps I should send you back to Grandma and Grandpa's, etc. etc. She mentioned my life as a slut in junior high, and even mentioned your aunt's pregnancy with the twins even before your aunt ever told us."

Ellen paused in thought back at the events. "I was on the ground curled up in a fetal position, crying in humiliation, hearing only her scalding voice -- and then Marcos broke in and snapped, `That's enough!' He was a girl by that time, and that was why we've remained friends ever since. I'll always remember him gratefully and fondly."

Ellen paused momentarily in reminiscence. "I managed to look up and see Margo -- Marcos as a girl -- standing over me glaring at the old woman. Grandmother's expression looking back at him was somehow both quizzical and dangerous. `Eh? Pardon me?'

"`You know damn well. Look at her!' Yes, she actually cursed to Grandmother's face.

"Grandmother and Margo glared at each other in silence for at least a minute, then Grandmother said, `I shall be lenient this once, and only extend your girlhood to sixty days. HOWever, you won't benefit from the reality shift. You will have to figure out how to deal with your professors and fellow students. You think they'll believe that a boy could be transformed into a girl?'

"I understood that part about no one believing, but I couldn't make heads or tails of `reality-shift' -- not until much later, just after finals week."

"Mom," said Glinda. "I think I know why you remember Uncle Marcos as a girl for the next -- sixty days, right?"

"Yes," answered Ellen. "I didn't do the actual numbers, but it was around sixty days later that Margo changed back to Marcos: shortly after finals and that visit to Grandmother at Bikini Beach."

"Anyway, you remembered Margo and knew that Marcos became Margo, even before the confrontation with Grandmother. Meanwhile, all the others remained boys throughout, at least as you remember, right?"

"Well, the other girl, Janet, stayed a girl -- at least as I remember. But from all that talk during that later visit to Grandmother, Janet might have been a boy, but got stuck as a girl because she got pregnant. And the other boys might have been girls."

"Okay, why you remember only Uncle Marcos's change and none of the others. Reality-shift means that supposedly, the changes didn't happen, but instead, reality shifted. And thanks to Uncle Marcos defending you, the realities all had him changing to Margo. The others, for thirty days, they always had been girls. Then after the thirty days finished, they had always been boys again -- except for Janet because she got pregnant. That's a Bikini Beach trap."

"That sounds very strange," said Daisy.

"Yes, Daisy. It's utterly bizarre," said Glinda. "I don't understand it, Mom doesn't understand it. Nobody does, at least none of us ordinary mortals. Mom, you got pregnant with Daisy around the same time."

"How did--" began Ellen, but then she realized. "Oh off course, you can count the months. But I don't recall telling you the year."

"Mom, she's Daddy," said Daisy. "She remembers."

Glinda turned and smiled at Daisy. "We might have to tell Daisy about the Birds and the Bees pretty soon, since she can read our minds."

Daisy blushed. "Glinda, Daddy, that's embarrassing!"

"ANYways, as for the pregnancy trap," said Glinda, "Aborting the pregnancy doesn't cure it. The girl is still stuck forever."

"That's right," said Ellen. "Janet got her abortion, then we all went to see Grandmother. Glenn, um, you, um, were with us. Grandmother was reduced to tears, telling us that aborting the pregnancy didn't undo the permanency of the transformation. I was secretly gloating over Grandmother's tears, remembering how she'd made me cry. But I was still hopelessly confused, since I'd known Janet since we were freshmen."

"That's reality-shifts for you," said Glinda. She turned toward Daisy, and it seemed to Ellen that she was staring her right in the eyes.

Daisy said, "Daddy says that you were a boy, a man, Alan, before you entered Bikini Beach that night. All of you were boys. Daddy says you were his best friend, and he told you not to do the prank, not to climb into Bikini Beach. You did it, anyway. You turned into a very pretty lady. It was supposed to be thirty days, but your pregnancy with me made it forever."

"What?!" exclaimed Ellen. `Okay,' she thought to herself. `Gaslighted again. Those damned reality-shifts.'

"Normally, you would have remembered the old realities," said Glinda. "From what you say, the others did. So why didn't you? Um, Daisy..."

"Daddy tells me that you really did remember. It's because of today that you don't, he thinks. It's because he went to Bikini Beach, today."

"Figures." Ellen snorted. "One wonders why the witch didn't just reality-shift away the whole darn episode. Or just have two girls and four boys go in, three girls and three boys come out, and Margo changing back two months later. Was that so hard now? None of all this scolding; none of this gaslighting talk about becoming girls when they didn't."

"I wouldn't know," said Glinda. "Grandmother isn't the only magic user, and isn't the only one who messes with reality. There's the unknown mage who -- Daisy?"

Daisy said, "A mage made a lady into that bad boy, and made him bad. The mage made a new reality out of him."

Glinda continued, "There have to be many mages, and many who deal with reality-shifts. It's not all Bikini Beach's Grandmother. Also, while I don't think one can have a reality-shift inside a single reality, maybe people can remember other realities, and can talk about them -- even if they aren't really real. Like now."

Daisy giggled, and escalated into uncontrolled laughter. Ellen just stared perplexed at her, and Daisy said, "Unreal realities -- really real realities -- that's so funny!" She kept laughing, and Ellen saw the humor and joined in, along with Glinda.

When they settled down, Ellen had an epiphany. "Oh my Goodness! I think I see why I somehow got obsessed with Glenn Matsumoto after visiting Bikini Beach, even though I only casually knew him as an acquaintance -- almost a stranger, really. It was one of those things that horribly confused and disturbed me, that I didn't understand in the least! I think I understand now. Daisy had to be born in this reality."

"That makes sense," said Glinda. "Another thing. Did you notice the similar names?"

"Oh, oh, oh!" exclaimed Ellen. "No, I never noticed! I was obsessed with Oz during my early teens, and I named you Glinda when when you were born. Daisy, people will say that there are no coincidences. They're just wrong. But I now understand, this was not a coincidence. Like Marcos and Margo, Glenn became Glinda!"

"Could you play with me, Glinda?" said Daisy. "I want to have fun and remember you before you become Daddy again."

"I think I could, for a while. But I do need to work some on the computer. I need to find out how things have changed, before they change back. You see, my trip to Bikini Beach was pleasure-oriented, to swim, relax, exercise, have fun, and introduce a boy to the joys of being a girl and tone down his boorishness. ARRRRRRRGH!"

Bikini Beach had just mangled Glinda's words, Ellen realized. She looked questioningly at Daisy, who said, "Daddy meant the visit was work-related. He wanted to remove a spell from the boy that made him a bad boy and unable to say what he wanted to say. The boy was a potential client, and Daddy needed to hear what the boy had to say. Daddy went even though he was afraid and angry at Bikini Beach for what they did to you, Mom.

"So Glinda, could you play with me?" she repeated.

It was summer, Daisy didn't have school the next day. So Ellen figured, why not? "Sure, go ahead. By all means, have quality time together while you can, before all this goes away." Ellen couldn't help another sniff, reminded that Glinda would forever go and Ellen would forever forget.

Glinda and Daisy went to their shared bedroom, and Ellen returned to the computer. She wanted to push aside her distress at losing Glinda, and busying herself in work would do that, she hoped.

After submitting a batch job to run on the mainframe at work, Ellen let her curiosity get the better of her. What had Glenn Matsumoto been doing in the intervening ten years since she knew him?

Ellen went to one of the free search engines that had developed recently. It didn't take very long to learn that Glenn had set up his own law practice, primarily in intellectual property law and general litigation, and was murdered two years earlier in a robbery gone bad.

Ellen couldn't suppress another gasp of grief, learning that Glenn had never betrayed her, only to learn that he'd been murdered -- before realizing that this had to be another Bikini Beach trick. Glenn changed into Glinda, so of course Glenn no longer existed. Since Glenn had existed earlier in this reality, Bikini Beach had to provide some means for Glenn's non-existence now.

Glinda returned to the living room. "Daisy's asleep now."

Ellen got up. "I think I've done enough work for the evening, especially if it's destined for the bit-bucket."

"Grandmother promised that any work I do today on the subject should stay with me," Glinda replied. "I think that the only really necessary thing is seeing what changed when I did." Glinda looked pensive and nervous. "You know, I'm tempted to search for ... me. But I'm scared I might find that I still exist."

"Too late," replied Ellen. "I've already done that. Glenn Matsumoto was murdered in a robbery two years ago."

Glinda's jaw dropped, and she covered her mouth. She lowered her hand and asked, "Did it happen in June?"

Startled, Ellen answered, "Yes. Why?"

"With Daisy asleep, I don't know if I can answer. There's this problem with Bikini Beach: we never really know what happened, not without Daisy. But I'll try to answer.

"Two years ago in June, I graduated from eighth grade -- no, let me try again." Glinda took several deep breaths, clearly showing restraint in her frustration.

"Once upon a time, an idea factory and one of their scientists hired an attorney to enforce a patent. A company had invented and was marketing a product that just happened to infringe said patent."

Glinda wasn't sounding anything like Ellen's daughter or any teenage girl, now. Ellen's ears perked up with the talk of patents, since she was occasionally involved with patents in her work. She listened with baited interest, thinking back to various encounters with `idea factories'.

"The attorney was personally sympathetic with the company he was acting against. Idea factories are the scum of the earth." Ellen agreed with Glinda's assessment, for most idea factories. "But he had a job to do. His clients had, with this patent at least, worked hard enough and come up with novel ideas and ways to apply them, that the opposing company was seriously infringing. He hoped he and the opposing attorney could reach a licensing solution satisfactory to both sides. Nevertheless, his obligation was to get the best possible result for his clients consistent with legal ethics."

`Legal ethics,' thought Ellen. `A contradiction of terms.'

"Unfortunately, the opposing company, perhaps in desperation for its survival and its best engineers' employment, joined up with an organized crime syndicate, perhaps not realizing how bad and dangerous they really were.

"One night, the attorney and his wife were on their way home from a ... social function." Ellen caught Glinda's hesitation and faint blush there. "They were attacked by several young adults. The wife was trained in dark and shadowy forms of fighting and martial arts, and fought them off, with a little help from the attorney."

The attorney in Glinda's story was clearly Glenn. But Ellen wondered, could that wife possibly have been herself? She had taken some martial arts, but had never focused on them, and never attained a very high level.

"If the attorney had been by himself, or with someone else, he probably would have been murdered -- along with his companion." Glinda paused. "Three or four weeks later, the scientist client was murdered." Glinda never sounded so sober. "The client's murder was never solved. Someone was arrested when when he used the client's credit card, but he was released when it was realized that the card was planted on him and he had used it by mistake.

"Was Glinda's murder solved?" Glinda winced, and Ellen understood she meant Glenn.

"No," answered Ellen.

Glinda retrieved a notebook and pen from her purse, and wrote something. "May I? I want to look up the client."

"Go ahead." Ellen was curious, and looked over her shoulder. She recognized the company Glinda entered into the search engine. Her own firm had dealt with them off and on for several years. They were newcomers to the `idea factory' field, and hadn't yet learned the standard mode of behavior or conduct. They came up with good ideas and good applications. Ellen's employers had licensed their inventions a few times in the past years. Their relationship was friendly and mutually beneficial. They were the one exception, that Ellen was aware of, to Glinda's characterization as `the scum of the earth'.

Looking over Glinda's shoulders, Ellen saw that the firm had agreed to be taken over by a much larger firm. It was a few weeks after Glenn's murder, in fact. "Looks like they caved in and joined up with the syndicate," said Glinda. "I can't tell if their decision was motivated by..." She paused. "In the story I was telling you, the client firm disbanded shortly after the scientist's memorial, and the other scientists went their ways. The police thought it was a robbery gone bad, but the scientists knew better."

Ellen watched as Glinda typed more into the computer. At one point, she saw Glinda going to the University web site. Where Glinda went on the site was unfamiliar to Ellen. Glinda mumbled, "No sign of her ever being there." She noted something in her notebook, and typed more into the computer.

A few minutes later, Glinda said, "Ahah! That name, I knew I'd seen that name before!" and jotted down some more. Any remaining notions Ellen had about Glinda being her teenage daughter were wiped out that evening.

"I can't think of anything more to search out," said Glinda finally, as she yawned. Ellen was quite sleepy herself, and echoed Glinda's yawn. She thought sleepily that she still had to get up the next day for her job.

"Tomorrow morning," continued Glinda sleepily, yawning again, "we and everything should be back to normal, and today's unpleasantness should be forgotten."

It hit Ellen, when she realized that Glinda would be gone forever, and that she, Ellen, would completely forget her. She grabbed and pulled Glinda into her arms, bawling over Glinda's shoulders. "I've always loved you. You and Daisy were always the loves of my life! And now I'm going to lose you forever!"

Glinda was crying herself. Ellen let herself be led into her bedroom. They both lay in each other's arms. The last thing Ellen heard as she fell asleep was Glinda saying, "At least whatever happens, we'll always have Daisy."

Thursday Morning, August 7

I STILL HAD THE old nun on my mind as I prepared to depart for Bikini Beach -- the old nun and the talk of freedom to be as clothed or skimpy as one wanted. In fact, a testimony last night at church reminded me of the nun, and reinforced my resentment against controlled and enforced modesty. I couldn't remember much of the testimony itself, beyond someone coming to realize the importance of modesty and chastity, even if it did seem old fashioned or prudish.

I stayed in my bathrobe throughout breakfast and the morning routine. After Pa left, I told Ma, "I'm returning to Bikini Beach," and went upstairs to prepare. I put on my one-piece swimsuit, slipped a pair of short-shorts over it, and slipped on a pair of flip-flops. After working myself through the tightness in the crotch, I packed a plain white bra and panty set, and a tank-top shirt, to possibly wear on the way home.

Ah, and yes. I had to take my Pill. It was one of the different-colored ones, reminding me that I was going to start my period soon. I sat down hard on the bed, lowered my head between my knees. I felt better after a few deep, slow breaths.

Ma was in the kitchen, so I slipped downstairs to the front door, and shouted out, "I'm off, Ma! See you tonight!" before slipping outside. I was relieved Ma didn't see me. That would have been embarrassing or worse.

I felt quite exposed, almost exhibitionist even, as I walked to the nearest inbound bus stop, and waited. I wasn't at Bikini Beach, but rather out in public. Well, that's what I'd defended and promoted Tuesday with that woman in the nun's habit.

I was really curious about Mr. Matsumoto. Did he actually enter Bikini Beach? If so, how had he fared as a girl at Bikini Beach? What about that boy?

At the transit center, Tracy got my attention shouting, "Lucy, you're learning!" I spotted Becky with her, and greeted both with hugs. Becky was dressed just like me, shorts over one-piece -- a different one from yesterday's, one that fit her better.

Becky met my eye. "I got a couple more yesterday," she answered my unasked question.

After what seemed like forever, we got off the bus at Bikini Beach. It was a rather simple matter for me to remove my shorts, and stuff them and everything else into a locker. All three of us went to shower, where we met Carol, Nancy, and Cindy with hugs and kisses.

"Hey, are the others here yet?" Becky asked.

"Vanessa's over there with Helen and Mrs. King," answered Carol. "I haven't seen the others yet."

"Jen and Xena have their class now," Tracy reminded us. "Cantonese, right?"

"Yeah," I answered, recalling. "But different classes. We'll probably see them around noon."

We had all showered, and were on our way to find Vanessa, when a voice suddenly spoke out everywhere. "Lucy Cuttington, please report to the office for a call from your mother. Lucy Cuttington, please report to the Bikini Beach office for a telephone call from your mother."

Uh-oh, what was happening? Did I do something wrong? "We'll go with you," said Carol.

We found Vanessa and her family with Faline. She promptly said, "Faline and I both have to shower. You go ahead, and we'll catch up with you."

We all headed out of the changing room and toward the office building, me dreading the prospect. It would be particularly embarrassing getting in trouble wearing something skimpy like a swimsuit.

Vanessa and Faline caught up with us just as we rang the doorbell at the office building. The door opened promptly, revealing one of the workers. "Lucy Cuttington?"

"That's me," I answered, concealing my nervousness.

She handed me a remote phone handset. "It's your mother."

"Hi, Ma?" I asked fearfully.

"Lucy, Daisy's parents want you to babysit Daisy tonight. Ellen says that you might sleep all night."

"Oh? What's happening?" I was quite curious. I wondered if it had anything to do with that boy Jim who tried to consult with Mr. Matsumoto. How did that turn out, anyway? I guessed that Mr. Matsumoto brought Jim here to Bikini Beach, but what happened then?

"All I know," answered Ma, "is that Glenn is behind in his work because of something yesterday, and Ellen has something of her own to do." That something of Mr. Matsumoto's was no doubt his visit to Bikini Beach.

"Certainly," I answered. "I'm always willing to babysit Daisy. I'll have to go home early then, I take it."

"Yes," answered Ma. "You should be home before supper."

"I will," I said. I was excited to babysit Daisy again.

"Good, I'll see you then. Bye!"

"Bye, Ma!"

"That's something you don't see that often," said Faline. "Someone excited over a babysitting job."

"No, you don't," agreed Vanessa. We were on our way back out of the offices.

"Daisy's a wonderful, um, girl to babysit. A great friend, too, even if she's only nine. Her parents are great, too." I couldn't help giggling a little.

"Sounds like someone has a crush," said Tracy, with her own titter.

"No-no-no-no-no!" I couldn't help reacting. I wasn't going to admit that as Luke, I was already half in love with Daisy, and had almost conked out at Mrs. Matsumoto's Helen of Troy level of beauty. "Okay, I'll admit, Daisy and Mrs. Matsumoto are both very pretty."

"Okay, and Mr. Matsumoto?" Tracy giggled further.

I'd only met him once as Lucy, and I was about to say that, until I realized that I would sound strange enough to raise unwelcome questions about me as Luke. I thought back on my memories of meeting him as Lucy -- both the same nights as Luke. "Mr. Matsumoto's a nice man, but I don't have a crush on him. I've only met him a few times." And no, I wasn't going to mention my crush on my clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon, hovering in the back of my mind, especially as this week's clarinet lesson loomed.

We spent the rest of the morning on the water rides. Xena and Jen appeared and chatted with us during lunch, although they'd already eaten before coming to Bikini Beach.

I realized during lunch how drowsy I was feeling, so I was quite receptive when Vanessa said, "Let's go find a nice shady place for a nap. I, for one, am bushed."

"I agree," said Becky.

Xena said, "Jen and I are tired from our Cantonese classes. We need some activity. You don't mind if we go off and swim and such?"

"No, not at all," Carol answered. "By all means, go have your fun. I understand about class."

"Don't worry, we'll get back to you," said Xena.

"See you," said Jen softly, and off they went.

"I'm going with them," said Becky.

"Have fun," said Vanessa as Becky chased after Jen and Xena.

Meanwhile, we found a nice shady spot under some trees. "We'd all had better apply more sunscreen, just in case," said Vanessa, even as she began covering herself. Realizing the wisdom of the advice, I put on more lotion, as did everyone else.

I asked Carol, "Want me to do your back?"

"Yes, I'd love that." She lay down on her tummy, and I poured sunscreen onto my hand and massaged it into her back. By the time I was finished, a good five minutes later, Carol was a puddle of moaning girl. She promptly conked out. I lay down next to her, and shortly fell asleep myself.

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

GLENN WAS RETURNING from lunch, not looking forward to the rest of the day. His experience as Glinda the previous day affected him profoundly: he'd cried upon awakening that morning remembering Ellen's utter distress at the prospect of losing and completely forgetting Glinda. Sure enough, exactly that had happened.

"You're awake finally," she had said flirtatiously. "You were so busy last night on the computer. You're crying! What happened? I assume you got the information you needed." Glenn had hugged her tightly, and cried all the more.

Then Daisy had gotten him alone, away from Ellen. She'd hugged him and said, "Daddy, you're fun when you're Glinda. I liked having a Big Sister."

He'd arrived at his office late that morning, thinking that he'd blown off his regular work the previous afternoon. He'd been pleasantly surprised to discover that that wasn't the case. Apparently, despite his phone call to Darline indicating otherwise, he'd returned to his office to continue his work. At least, most of it was adequately done.

Glenn continued to wonder if it would have been better had he remained stuck as Glinda -- especially realizing that his client would never have been murdered. In any case, he would have to work all afternoon, and pull a late-nighter, if not an all-nighter, to process the information he had and link it with his other work on the syndicate.

As soon as he entered his office front room, Darline said, "Glenn, a Stanley Larson called for you. He said that he was a friend of yours and that it was vitally important. He wants you to return his call ASAP." She handed him a post-it with a telephone number.

"Stan? Oh my, I haven't heard from him in years! Thanks, Darline. I'll get back to him promptly."

Back in the inner office, Glenn called the number. "Hello?" answered an older version of a familiar voice.

"Stan? Is that--" began Glenn.

"Glenn, it's critical! You must abandon your Alima al-Hamdani, Blue Elephant, James Steedman, and Kwell cases! You have no idea what you're up against. These persons are ruthless, and they have capabilities beyond your imagination! Can't ta--" The phone went dead.

Actually, with his late-night research as Glinda, plus the transformation of Wendy to Jim, Glenn had a pretty good idea what he was up against: a major criminal syndicate that employed at least one mage. His research of both his murdered client and Jim had exposed names common to both, and the Blue Elephant case as well.

But with a mage involved, maybe he was seriously in over his depth. The situation might be beyond the law's capability. Should he hand it over to Bikini Beach to deal with? What about Ellen? Maybe Ellen might be able to do what the law couldn't.

He hated the idea that vigilantism, self-help lawlessness, might actually be necessary in this case.

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

I WAS STILL half asleep, unable to move, when I heard some of the girls talking amongst themselves.

"... a few weeks ago, on the climbing wall," I heard Carol saying, when I was sufficiently alert to comprehend things.

"What happened?" I asked, curious.

"Oh, you're awake now," Carol replied. "Anyway I mentioned the background scene in `Lace' with the girl frozen at the top of the rope, and I was saying that it happens to me occasionally. I recently had a long, powerful, prolonged one a few weeks ago near the top of the climbing wall."

"Heavens, that must have been so embarrassing!" exclaimed Faline.

"You were there, Faline," said Carol.

"I was? Why don't I remember it?"

"I think we were absorbed in our own attempts at climbing, that we didn't notice Carol's predicament," said Vanessa. "I did notice Carol paused up near the top, but I didn't think anything of it."

"I was pretty much out of it," continued Carol. "My fingers and toes were clenched firmly to the wall, my tummy, legs, chest, and butt were clenched as tight as could be, and I couldn't for the life of me move or even unclench to fall back down to the water. I couldn't move a muscle, couldn't do more than gasp.

"And every time it began to recede, I twitched or shifted something, and it returned full blast. I was caught in an infinite loop, almost. It finally weakened down and ended, and I fell back to the water."

"I saw Liz climbing--" began Tracy.

"OMG, no, no, no!" Carol hid her face in her hands.

Vanessa must have noticed our questioning looks, because she said, "Liz is one of the lifeguards here."

Oh, poor Carol, getting the attention of Authority.

"Was it pleasurable or painful?" asked Xena. I looked over at Jen and her. Jen was clearly embarrassed and excited, as I'd been a moment earlier, but Xena seemed comfortable with the whole thing.

"Exquisitely pleasurable pain, or infinitely torturous pleasure," Carol answered. "Take your pick."

I felt like changing the subject. "So Tracy, about those hunks...?"

"Tracy's been obsessed with them for -- how long?" asked Faline.

"I haven't seen them in some time. I think I'm beginning to get over my obsession. I would still love to get to know them." Tracy sighed longingly.

I glanced over at Becky, who glanced at me at the same time. I think she picked up the question on my mind, because she shrugged. My choice, apparently.

I was still trying to decide, when Xena spoke out for me: "Maybe they're girls now." Most of us laughed, including me; I couldn't help going along with the laughter. "After all, this is a girls' waterpark." I noticed Vanessa watching the rest of us with a quiet smile. If I had any doubt before that she knew, that doubt vanished. She knew about Bikini Beach changing boys to girls, and she probably knew about Becky and me.

I wondered if Xena knew, though, or just made a lucky joke.

Tracy, on the other hand, was furious and possibly embarrassed. "Why are you guys all tormenting me!?"

"We like you," answered Vanessa. "It's all in fun. Heck, you've teased friends yourself on occasion."

"I suppose," Tracy answered with a sniff.

"Hey, let's go swimming!" said Becky. That was met with a round of applause and agreement.

We continued to enjoy the rest of the afternoon, but then I had to bid the girls a tearful good-bye around 4:30, when it was time to head home. "We'll see you Saturday, right?" asked Jen.

"Saturday morning, yes. Unfortunately, I have marching band practice at school that afternoon."

"I do too," said Faline, to which Vanessa followed up with, "And I have football practice."

The girls stayed with me as I returned to the locker room. They did allow me privacy to shower and change by myself. I just wore my shorts and tank-top, skipping the panties and bra. It took but a moment to get dressed and slip into my flip-flops.

The girls walked with me out to the bus stop, and waited until I was on the bus. As we departed, I kept waving at them until I couldn't see them any more.

The bus change at the transit center made a difference. Boys were ogling me as I awaited the bus home. I was just a bit disturbed at how attractive and, yes, hot I found some of them. The crotch of my shorts was getting uncomfortably, irritatingly moist. I was definitely relieved that numerous other girls were there as well. I don't think I could take the attention of all those boys.

A couple attractive boys approached me. They were about my age or a year older. The white boy was definitely looking me up and down, checking me out, making me both uncomfortable and uncomfortably hot. He was certainly well-muscled and well-built in his own tank-top and shorts, and I couldn't help giggling and checking him out either. An echo of Luke in me was screaming way in the background, squicked not only by his well-built crotch, but also by the situation as a whole. The voice kept telling me this was like what-his-face, the boy yesterday at Mr. Matsumoto's office.

I deliberately shifted my glance over to the Asian boy, who I just now realized why he seemed familiar. He was trying really hard to avoid looking me up and down -- too hard. I smiled at him and looked him over, and he went just about berserk. I couldn't help gigglng out loud. I barely knew him as Luke in Taekwondo, and certainly didn't realize just how attractive he really was -- almost as well built as his friend, although a lot shier.

"Hey, may we join you?" asked the white boy with a bit of a leer.

"Of course." I leared just a mite back at him and mentally flipped my Luke side off, as I shifted and straightened up, gesturing both sides of me.

The white boy sat to my right, and introduced himself as Fabian. "And this goody-goody nerd is--"

"Hey!" exclaimed the Asian, whose name just then came to me, as he sat to my left.

"Hey, June!" I managed to restrain myself to a soft laugh at his dropped jaw. His name was actually Junfang.

"How did--" he began, but I interrupted, screwing his mind further.

"Congratulations on attaining your Green Belt." I was referring to the Taekwondo rank.

"Bu-bu-bu-bu-" He trailed off, then tried again. "Who-- what-- how--"

Okay, that was just too funny for words. I couldn't help bursting out laughing. I was facing June and leaning back, so I found myself leaning against Fabian, who was also laughing at his friend. His arms went around me, and a hand cupped one of my breasts.

My laugh switched to a shriek of startlement at the sudden pleasure of the contact, and he promptly removed his arms from me. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," Fabian kept repeating, as I kept gasping in pleasure, finally calming down.

"I gu- I gu- I guess I have- I have- I haven't intro- int- in-tro-duced my-self," I managed to finally enunciate the words, still breathing heavily, lifting myself up off of Fabian and sitting back against the bench. "I'm -- I'm Lucy Cuttington."

Yikes! I'd had `Luke' on the brain, and that would not have been good at all. Whew, Bikini Beach's correction kicked in. Then Double-Yikes! I blushed horribly, realizing how totally in public I was. Looking around, I realized that, fortunately, most of the bus travelers had ignored me, other than the glances I always seemed to get, especially in this outfit.

Actually, it seemed as if I was getting fewer lookovers than before, although guys still glanced at me. Did it help that these guys were with me? I was feeling tingly goose-bumpy warm all over. I crossed my legs, and I couldn't help tightening my thighs and squeezing them together. My ankle was trying to hook under my other ankle, and eventually made it.

My shorts were now irritatingly wet as well, with a slight musky odor by now all too familiar to me. I hadn't wet my pants.

June said, "So how do you know me? How did you know that I attained my Green Belt? Wait a minute. Cuttington? Do you know a Peter?"

"My big brother." I giggled. "A Blue Belt."

June looked up at his friend. "Fab, this could get dangerous. Peter could beat the crap out of us."

"Aww, don't go away just yet. Peter's very nice, and you seem like nice guys." I put my hands on their shoulders. "At least stay until I catch the bus." By now, excited as I was, I was really attracted to them, and really wanted them to stay.

"Peter may be nice," said June. "But I'm sure he wouldn't hesitate to beat the crap out of anyone who molests his little sister."

"Oh, you'd never hurt me. Right?" I turned to face Fab.

"Oh, of course not." The boy tried for a charming smile, but it wavered. I giggled again.

I realized I was being totally naughty, in a way I was way too shy to be as Luke. Luke might have even repulsed them and run away, had a pair of gorgeous girls, babes, joined him and flirted with him.

"My bus's here," I said, noticing its arrival. "It was very nice talking with you June and Fab."

I got up, but they got up and followed me to the bus. "We're taking that bus, too," said Fab.

I couldn't help giggling in surprise, even though I kept telling myself I should be creeped out at this blatancy. Instead, I decided to be blatant myself. I stepped in front of a single bench with a pair of empty seats, before anyone else could claim it. The bus was crowded enough that riders were going to stand. "Here, both of you sit."

"Nono, we couldn't leave you standing. You sit," replied Fab.

"I insist, both of you sit. I'll be fine." I smiled a winning smile at them, and shoved Fab down into the seat before he knew what was happening. "June, your turn." Fab shifted over as June sat next to him. "Ah perfect." I squeezed in and sat on Fab's lap, my back against the window, my legs across their laps.

I put my right arm on Fab's shoulder, and reached over to take June's hand in my left hand. Fab placed his hands on my bare thighs. It felt creepy for an instant, and I was about to remove them, but then I realized it felt good. June followed up with a hand on my lower legs.

We rode the rest of the way to my stop in that position, talking and flirting. As we drove past one stop, June said to Fab, "That was your stop there."

"Yeah," replied Fab. "And wasn't your stop a couple blocks back there? Anyways, I could use the walk."

"I need the exercise, too," rejoined June.

Everything by now seemed hilarious, and June and Fab's audacious excuses to stay on the bus with me were no exception. In fact, I stayed past my bus stop, and got off a couple stops later. The boys were obviously going to get off with me, and walk me to my door if I let them.

In fact, I could simply have walked home, and they would have walked with me. I could have spent so much more time with them.

But I did get off, and the boys joined me. I took their hands, and interleaved our fingers, feeling higher than I'd ever felt before.

We kept talking, and I kept laughing and giggling, until we reached my own block. Sanity finally got through to me, and I said, "I'd really love to have you come with me, but I don't want Ma and Pa to catch me with boys. So I'm going to have to leave you here; I'm very sorry."

"That's quite okay. We understand," said Fab.

June asked, "Would you like to watch my Taekwondo class tomorrow?"

"I'm so very sorry," I answered. "I have ballet then. But I can meet you afterwards."

"Sounds good," answered June. "Have a great evening. Good bye."

"Good bye, boys," I answered, as I turned toward my house. I couldn't help giddily smiling, and hopping and skipping. My flip-flops kept falling off, until I just picked them up and carried them the rest of the way while walking barefoot in the grass next to the sidewalk. I finally managed to control my hopping and skipping, although I was still hopping and skipping in my mind, and I still had that giddy smile.

I entered the front door, only to be accosted by Pa. "WHAT is THAT?" came his bellow as he looked me up and down. For a moment, I got the impression he was checking me out or something. But that was Pa!

I couldn't help stammering, ashamed at Pa's seeing me in my skimpy clothes. "I appreciate living in a free country, where I'm free to wear as much or as little as I want."

"Free to shamelessly exhibit yourself in public, looking to shame a common streetwalker?" `Common streetwalker' was a choice phrase of Pa's, and I'd only recently learned the real meaning. Never before had he used the term with me. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times: be modest in your dress!"

Tears in my eyes, I pushed out angrily. "I went swimming at Bikini Beach." I was digging myself deeper; I had vowed not to tell Pa about going there. "I'm fed up with your modesty demands. Your `Common Streetwalkers' would be ashamed to go around in ordinary swimwear."

"Okay for swimming, what you're wearing would be okay if someone drove you directly home. But you took the bus, going through downtown, and exhibiting yourself in public for all you're worth." That was true; I'd attracted two cute boys and gone all giggly over them. "But Bikini Beach? The waterpark promoting girls in bikinis? Of all the places-- you know better than that! Have you lost all shame?"

"Shame?!" I asked, digging myself deeper still. I didn't intend to provoke Pa, but I realized I was pushing him and provoking a reaction. "You hit on Carol when I brought her home! Talk about shame!"

"All-right, that does it!" barked Pa, as he grabbed my tank top, stepped back and dropped onto the sofa, and pulled me over his lap. "A skimpy top. Your shorts are way too short!" He yanked them down. "No bra! No underwear! A bikini tan! And phew, you're giving off a distinctly naughty odor!"

Slam! I felt a hard-back book hitting my bottom. It hurt yet somehow felt good. Really, really good! I bit my lip to avoid screaming in pleasure, yet a squeal slipped through anyway. I couldn't help it; I was squirming, rubbing over a hard lump in Pa's lap at exactly the right spot down there.

I couldn't help screaming in extreme pleasure at Pa's second blow, even harder than the first. It was such a wonderful pain. Pa slammed me several more times; each time it hurt more, and each time it felt so much better. I was lost in pleasure I almost died, screaming, gasping, and buckling up and down against the hardness in Pa's lap.

When I realized that Pa wasn't spanking me any more, I just couldn't help gasping out, "Oh Pa, don't sto-- don't sto-- don't stop now, Pa!" I was in the midst of a doozy of an orgasm.

I gradually recovered, until reality hit hard, and I remembered squirting as never before. I burst into tears, and rolled off Pa's now soaked lap. I fell to the carpet and rolled over, and noticed I was showing myself fully to Pa. I rolled over again, and tried to get up, only to trip over my shorts. I stepped into them, and slid them up as I ran out of the house, still crying.

There was no way I could ever face Pa again. I just ran up the block, not thinking about where I was going. When I noticed which way I was going, I realized that I really had only one place to go. Showing up at Daisy's house and facing her parents like this couldn't be any more embarrassing than returning home, tail between my legs, to face Pa again. I still had my babysitting commitment.

I ran to Daisy's house, and rang the doorbell. Daisy opened the door. "Lucy! You're early." She hugged me hard, and I hugged her back hard. "Phew, you stink! Why are you crying? You make me feel really strange. How can a hard spanking feel so good?"

"Pa spanked me hard wearing these clothes!" I wasn't going to say anything about feeling strange or feeling good. I managed to barely keep from crying again.

"Why Lucy!" said Mrs. Matsumoto, who'd appeared out of the kitchen. "I'm so sorry to hear that! I realize, Dan has serious issues with girls dressed in skimpy clothes. Daisy, back to supper. Lucy, have you eaten yet?"

"No. Pa spanked me as soon as I got home from Bikini Beach. I'm never going home again! But no, I haven't eaten."

"You can eat here. But first, let's get you cleaned up, and into something clean." I followed Mrs. Matsumoto into her room. "This should do nicely. Glenn and I will be out until very late, so you're going to spend the night." It was a light thin shorts-top pajama set, similar to what she wore when I first saw her as Luke. "There's a shower in there, and then you can come down to eat. I'll keep the food warm for you."

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Matsumoto," I said, as I carried took the pajamas into the bathroom and shut the door.

"Toss your clothes out. We'll have them all clean by tomorrow morning," she called from behind the door. It took but an instant to slip out of my shorts and tank-top, and hand them out hidden behind the door.

In the shower, I cleaned myself all over mostly. Unfortunately, I had serious problems cleaning between my legs, the source of the odor. I was still a little aroused, and trying to clean it kept me aroused and producing more of the stuff.

Finally, I just decided to get out and see if I could find a pad or something, to soak the stuff and shield the pajama shorts. I did find a pad, so I could get dressed safely and head back down for dinner.

Mrs. Matsumoto had kept the food warm. She and Daisy had finished eating, but were both still waiting for me. "Are you feeling better?" asked Mrs. Matsumoto.

"Yes," I said, not as embarrassed, and still feeling uncomfortably aroused.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No-no-no-no!" I exclaimed. It was just too embarrassing. Especially shouting out at Pa not to stop. I felt about to cry again.

"Eat, then. You'll feel better," said Mrs. Matsumoto.

I ate. The food was good.

After eating, Mrs. Matsumoto said, "Glenn's at work on things he apparently discovered yesterday. He'll probably be home early tomorrow morning. I'm off to a late start to my own function, so could you help me prepare for tonight's work?"

"I sometimes help Mom prepare," said Daisy. "It's fun."

Curious, I agreed. I abstractly remembered conking out at my first sight of Mrs. Matsumoto, but it didn't seem real now. Nevertheless, she was really pretty, especially when she stripped down to dark-blue bra and bikini panties.

"Please. Call me Ellen," she said, adding to Daisy, "That's for Lucy mind you. You are to still call me Mom."

Ellen sat and had me brush, comb, and braid her hair, finally tying it in knots around her head. Meanwhile, she was covering herself with a blue-colored slop that matched the blue of her panties. Whatever she was doing, it wasn't preparation for any kind of party that I could imagine.

After I finished with her hair, she had me put a blue panty-hose-type covering over her face and hair.

"Mom's gonna be invisible tonight," Daisy said.

That was going to make her invisible? Or was she going to drink an invisibility potion or something. Hey, if I could be a girl, she could be invisible. But why all this makeup and stuff?

Eventually, Ellen declared herself ready, and said good night and departed.

"Daddy went to Bikini Beach yesterday," said Daisy. "And turned into my Big Sister. We lived in a different place, and Mom was different, and I kept forgetting and trying to remember. But I loved having a Big Sister. Her name was Glinda."

"Oh? I have a very nice Big Brother," I said lamely. I didn't know what else to say.

"Peter's very nice," Daisy agreed. "My friends think their big brothers are all meanies."

"So will your dad become your Big Sister now?" I asked, joking.

Daisy giggled and commanded, "You be my Big Sister!"

Maybe I'll stay here and never go home, I thought as memories of the massive orgasm on Pa's lap intruded, with unwanted arousal. "Why not?" I smiled.

"And then you'll be my Big Brother Luke again." I froze, as my jaw dropped and she giggled. "I remember whenever you're around, but then I mostly forget, except when I try really hard to remember. And now, your feelings are all embarrassing." She breathed deeply.

I blushed. I'd discovered the previous day that Daisy was a mind-reader, and this was one time when I really didn't want a mind-reader anywhere nearby.

"Let's go downstairs to the computers," said Daisy.

We played until quite late, and it helped me get my mind off things most of the time. When we were both yawning and sleepy, we decided it was high-time for bed. Daisy transferred my clothes to the dryer, and took a shower, and I went to her room and collapsed on the floor.

I was in the middle of a really naughty dream, when Daisy's shout yanked me awake. She was lying in bed. "What happened?"

Daisy was still breathing heavily. "Just a nightmare. I'm so sorry I woke you up."

Nothing was "just" a nightmare. I got up and sat next to Daisy. "Want to talk about it?" My concern over Daisy helped dispell my arousal from my dream.

"It was the same thing," said Daisy softly. "My best friend disappeared and no longer exists." She was crying. I embraced her and slid down under the sheet with her, trying to comfort her."

Lucy turns a new leaf in the aftermath of her run-in with Pa. She spends the day with friends, including Peter.

        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.

And yes, this part in particular needs revision.

        Friday, August 8

I woke up from a bizarre nightmare, with only faint impressions that I could never seize mentally. I know that Fab, June, Brandon -- and even Pa, Daisy, and Mrs. Matsumoto -- and even that boy in Mr. Matsumoto's office -- somehow figured in. Daisy was still asleep next to me.

I slipped out of bed as silently as possible and went to the bathroom. Once properly seated, I became more awake, and burst into tears of renewed embarrassment, especially after noticing that my pad was uncomfortably damp. Did I have what they called a wet dream at school? After relieving myself, I changed my pad and redressed in my borrowed PJs.

It was still dark outside, but I though it would be a good idea to get my clothes from the dryer. I went downstairs, only to discover an empty dryer. So what happened to my clothes? I returned upstairs.

"Good morning, Lucy."

I gasped, jumped, and spun, to face Mr. Matsumoto, bleary-eyed and sloppy-suited, who'd obviously just returned from work. I giggled with relief. "Hi, Mr. Matsumoto. I hope you had a good night."

He shifted his eyes upward to meet mine. "It went okay. I discovered that I'd supposedly returned to the office Wednesday afternoon and did several hours of mundane tasks. Mind you, I had to verify that I --" he fingered scare quotes "-- did it correctly. Most of yesterday and the night was spent processing the information I learned due to Bikini Beach."

"I wouldn't understand it," I admitted. "So how was it being Glinda?"

I couldn't help giggling at his dropped jaw, but he pulled himself together and said, "Daisy told you then. It's a long story, that I'm not prepared to tell. Things would have been simpler, with less sadness, if Daisy hadn't recognized me."

I could believe that. It occurred to me that I was chatting with Mr. Matsumoto in skimpy pajamas. Not as skimpy as what I usually wore at home, but then only Peter ever saw me in that. Also not as skimpy as yesterday's clothes that I wore in crowds out in public, that attracted a couple hot boys, that provoked Daddy into spanking me -- and how I mortifyingly enjoyed it and orgasmed hard. I stretched up tall and made up my mind: I wouldn't be embarrassed any more, or I'd enjoy the hell out of my embarrassment.

If this be Error, be it so and let me embrace it.

"It was indescribable, wasn't it," I replied. "A man becoming a girl. I'm so sorry, keeping you up when you desperately need sleep. Good night and sleep well." I turned away and found a blanket. I didn't think it was a good idea to return to Daisy's bed and bedroom, so I slept on a sofa in the living room.

I awoke around nine. My clothes were on a sofa arm, and Mrs. Matsumoto was sitting in an armchair, reading. It was Friday, my clarinet lesson was at noon, and I had ballet at one.

I still had plenty of time.

"Good morning, Lucy," she greeted me.

"Good morning, Mrs. Matsumoto," I replied.

"Ellen, please. Would you like breakfast?"

"Thank you... Ellen," I answered, having trouble with `Ellen'. "If it's no trouble."

I followed her into the kitchen. "We have leftovers from this morning, if that's okay," she said.

The leftovers were microwaved, and I began eating, feeling quite hungry. As I ate, Ellen said, "Glenn met you as he came in this morning."

Did I do something wrong? No, no, no. I'm not going to worry myself sick about that. No more. "Yes. I was still in these pajamas, sorry about that." No, not really sorry.

"Not a problem. You mentioned his being Glinda."

"Yeah." No, I wasn't going to wonder if I'd done something wrong. "Daisy told me." I continued eating. Ellen left for a second, then returned and counted out a bunch of $20s. I didn't bother counting them; they were probably much more than I deserved. "Thank you!" I said, a bit surprised.

"Daisy tells me you comforted her when she awoke from her serial nightmare."

"That's the least I could do. I'm wondering..." I took the plunge. "I've exprienced Bikini Beach, and Daisy remembers that." Ellen raised her eyebrows. "Yes. And she remembers Glinda."

Ellen said, "You think that she remembers something about this missing friend of hers?" I nodded, soberly and unsure. "That puts a certain complexion on things."

I went the bathroom to change back into my clothes.

I finished eating and stood up. "Thank you very much for all of this. I think I should get home and face Ma. Ma's going to make me listen to the Mental Work and the Lesson, at the very least. Who knows what else? Have a nice day." I stood tall, my shoulders back, and reached out my hand to shake hers. She gave me a good hearty handshake. I summoned as much dignity as one can have in a tank-top and short shorts with bare feet, and turned to return home.

I stopped at the front door before entering, and made myself stand as tall as possible, pushing back my shoulders, folding my hands in front of me, and teling myself that the worst that could happen had already happened. My life was either ruined or not, as the case may be.

I opened the door and called out, "Ma, I'm home!" I kept myself as tall and dignified as possible, my shoulders back, my hands folded in front.

Ma appeared and looked me up and down. "I must say," she said. "That's an unusual outfit for a babysitting job."

"Indeed, Ma," I agreed. Ma was still taller than me, so I couldn't avoid a certain submissivity in how I looked at her. But I did my best to minimize it. "My departure for the job was unusually hasty yesterday. Pa might have told you."

"Pa was most upset when I got home yesterday," said Ma. "He refused to say anything about what happened, except that you'd gone. I assumed you'd left for your babysitting job, but I had to call and verify."

"Ma, if Pa didn't tell you, I certainly won't." I stood as tall as possible, looking directly into her eyes without blinking. "Now would probably be a good time to play the Mental Work and the Lesson. Then I should probably change and head downtown for clarinet and ballet."

Ma stood and looked down at me. I realized that even yesterday, before everything that occurred, I would have been intimidated, terrified, and especially embarrassed because of the skimpy outfit I was wearing. Now, it seemed just tame.

She said, "I don't mind your wearing such outfits, myself. I wore similar clothes in my youth. Pa would have been definitely upset and disturbed, as well as furious, and no doubt this caused whatever happened yesterday. Lucy, I don't think you realize how really attractive you look, especially to men and boys."

"You're right, Ma, most of the time. I have on occasion noticed it." Yeah, like every time Luke in me saw myself in the mirror. "Perhaps instead, I'll go up and change, and then listen to the Mental Work and Lesson."

I turned and went up to my room. Before I changed, I packed up my clarinet equipment and ballet equipment, including my ballet shoes. I changed into my ballet leotard, omitting the tights. I decided that I'd rather have the coolness of bare legs, than the heat accompanying my attempt at modesty. I put on socks and sneakers, and wrapped the ballet skirt around my waist.

I considered for a moment going without the skirt, but decided against it. If I went too far too fast, someone might react too strongly. I didn't want to be arrested or jailed.

Then I remembered the Pill. I popped one down, going to the bathroom for water to wash it down. I relieved myself as well.

I decided I didn't want to go too far in enjoying guys' attraction, but I might somehow catch the two boys from yesterday again. Or I might even enjoy Brandon. My squicky crush had changed somehow, I realized now. I wasn't quivering as much, and I didn't feel as if I were hopelessly in love with him. I more wanted to be with him and play with him; something like that. It was not so embarrassing for one, although probably just as naughty.

`Thank you, Pa, for spanking me like that,' I mentally taunted him, sticking my tongue out. My skirt was really short, but still considered the respectible way to go to and from ballet class in one's ballet leotard. One was supposed to wear tights, but well...

Hoping I had everything, I returned downstairs. Ma was working in the kitchen. The cassette player was in there as well, so I went in and inserted and rewound the Mental Work cassette. I was about to press "play" when Ma said, "Lucy, are you actually going to clarinet lesson in that?"

I was about to snark how Brandon would enjoy the lesson, but I realized it might cause him trouble. "Ma, you know I have ballet afterwards. Perhaps I should remove the skirt and go without?"

"Lucy, you are getting seriously sassy. I've viewed you as way too old for spanking, but..." Ma looked hard at me.

"Ma, I'm willing to take a spanking from Pa anytime." I spontaneously breathed heavily at the memory, and continued in a wavering tone, "But I'm not so sure about a massive sexual experience with you, Ma, so no-go."

"WHAT was that?!"

"What do you think happened yesterday with Pa? I returned from Bikini Beach wearing the same clothes I wore home this morning. I provoked him further with ideas I got from an old weirdo nun-type, about freedom to enjoy immodest clothing."

"An old weirdo nun-type?" echoed Ma.

"Yeah, you know. A woman in a body-covering habitat tried shaming Becky and Tracy for Bikini Beach and what they were wearing on the way. Then she came after me for my jeans and t-shirt. `If you were my daughter, I'd give you a good switching.' Something like that. We had a..." (I cleared my throat.) "... discussion. I had no idea at the time how much I'd probably enjoy a nice good switching."

Ma no longer was looking hard at me. Her eyes bulged. Apparently, Ma couldn't even think of a Christian Science saying.

I continued. "So yesterday, I wore my one-piece swimsuit with shorts, and packed some simple clothes to return in. I returned early as you said. I met a couple nice boys at the transit, and..." I drifted off, my mind wandering back to yesterday with the boys, sittig on their laps.

"And?" prompted Ma.

"Oh, oh, yeah. Both nice boys, one's doing Taikwondo with Peter. Anyway, I got home, smack into the jaws of Pa. He got mad about my clothes, and I kept digging myself deeper. But..." I drifted off again.

"But?"

"I think the last straw was when I accused him of hitting on Carol."

"Oh my," said Ma. "You probably didn't realize what a point of embarrassment that was with Pa."

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," I quoted, the phrase having just come to mind. I laughed softly. "Pa slammed me over his lap, yanked my shorts down, and slammed me with the book he was reading. It was a hardback book." By now I'd made up my mind. Ma was going to be embarrassed, not me. No more shame for me. I stood up on tip-toe to hit the point home, and stared in Ma's eyes, without blinking. "It was wonderful, and I kept begging him for more and harder. His penis felt wonderfully hard, but he stopped way too soon."

"Lucy, this is Error," whispered Ma, soft enough that I almost didn't hear it. She seemed to be trying to convince herself. Her face was flushed.

"Such a whoppin' Error," I replied. "Such a massive orgasm. You might want to correct your thoughts, Ma. Didn't you notice how badly I squirted on Pa's pants? The Bible and Science and Heath are over there.

"Meanwhile, I'm off to the mall. Maybe I'll see some friends to hang out with before clarinet lesson and ballet. Have a great day." I picked up my clarinet and everything I needed, and turned headed out the door.

I expected to find Becky and Tracy eventually at the mall, but I didn't expect to spot them seated on a bench near the entrance, Becky's arms around Tracy, obviously trying to console a shocked and terrified Tracy.

"Tracy! Becky! What happened?"

Becky replied, "Tracy had a severe reaction to all the ads. As far as I can tell, it had something to do with cheerleaders or cheerleading." The first day of school was approaching, and back-to-school ads were now proliferating through the mall, with numerous ads featuring cheerleaders.

I had an idea. "Let's get Tracy away from the mall. The library's just a couple blocks down. That's a nice, quiet place."

Becky asked Tracy, "Are you okay with walking?"

Tracy simply nodded. They slowly stood up. We began walking very slowly, but eventually were able to walk at our normal rate.

"You okay, now?" Becky asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Tracy answered. "Lucy, I see you're dressed for ballet again." She giggled.

"I have ballet at one, so I dressed for it."

"Don't you have, like, a clarinet lesson before that?" asked Becky.

"Yep." I giggled. "I thought perhaps Brandon might like this."

"Uh, `Brandon'?" asked Becky.

"Oh, yes! My clarinet teacher. He's such a dreamboat!" I tittered, chuckling internally at how I was confusing the girls. At least for now, I no longer felt worshipful, and terrified of his finding out. The `dreamboat' description was how I'd felt earlier, but now I felt more like teasing and seducing him. `Thanks, Pa, for the number you did on me. You probably did me the biggest favor in my life.'

We continued chatting until we reached the library, at which point I cautioned Becky and Tracy to tone things down considerably. "Of course we know that, Lucy!" exclaimed Becky.

We dropped our stuff off at the desk, and went to the young-adult section. (I briefly considered taking Becky and Tracy to search for more sexy books.)

I didn't expect it, but I wasn't surprised when we spotted Carol browsing the books. "Shhhh!" I indicated silence as we snuck up behind her.

"Hi, Carol," I whispered.

She gasped and jumped, and spun around. "Lucy! Tracy, Becky!" she whispered. She quickly embraced all of us, embraces we returned.

"Well, Lucy!" She looked me up and down. "You definitely look sharp today."

Becky intervened. "Tracy had a severe reaction to ads at the mall. So we came here instead."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Carol.

"I'm okay now," said Tracy.

Eventually, I had to go for clarinet lesson.

I arrived and sat down to soak my reed and assemble my clarinet. The saxophonist shortly emerged, and greeted me. "Hey, Lucy."

"Hi, Mercedes!" I answered. She had just told me her name last week.

"Meredith," she corrected.

"Oops, sorry, Meredith. Have a great day!"

"You too," she replied, as she continued out of the store.

Meanwhile, Brandon emerged. He stopped and gaped, as I jumped up. "Hi, Br-- Mr. Oregon!" I greeted him with a hug.

"Oh, my!" He slid his arms around my waist. "This is quite a greeting!"

"Why not? I like you! I like your clarinet lessons." I slid back out of his arms, and grabbed my clarinet and stuff. "Let's get to it!"

In the lesson room, I sat and adopted the pose I'd used (as Lucy) ever since July 4th with the miniskirt dress suit: pressing my knees together, and aiming my clarinet a few inches above my knees. Brandon was standing, looking at me, and I realized I was showing off more leg now to him than ever before.

"I have ballet class after this," I mentioned, as I set the book up. He sat down next to me, I played a few warm-up notes, and we got into the lesson.

I actually had to push Brandon a little, metaphorically speaking, but the lesson went more or less normally. At the end of lesson, I remembered to remind him that school was beginning in just over two weeks, and lessons had to be rescheduled.

"Yes," Brandon replied. "I've been rescheduling all my lessons for the school year. I've contacted the school band and music programs, for their scheduled events, and we can schedule around them."

"And I'm continuing with ballet," I added. Last year, ballet classes were Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoon. I assumed it would be the same this year, although I had to check with the instructor.

I hugged Brandon good-bye, and went off to ballet lesson, jumping with happiness inside.

Fate had at least one more card up its sleeve, and it happened during ballet. We were hard at rehearsing a corps-de-ballet number for our summer performance, when someone pointed out a distinct dark spot at my crotch. "Deal with it as quick as possible," ordered the instructor. "And get back here. Also, put your skirt on. Nobody wants to see that."

It was simple enough. I always carried spare pads.

Once ballet ended, I changed back to my sneakers and socks, and went out -- to see a whole group waiting for me.

"Becky! Tracy!" I hugged them both. "You okay being back here now?" I asked Tracy.

"Yeah, I'm fine now."

I hugged Carol and, surprised at his appearance, Peter! "Peter, you never came before!" I exclaimed, before noticing that Peter had frozen up. "Oh, sorry about that."

I was backing away, when Peter put his arms around my waist, and pulled me back to him. "I was just surprised. Not accustomed... A bit embarrassed, I have to admit." I hugged him again, giggling a little.

As I pulled out of the hug with Peter, Carol tapped him, and he turned to her. "Yes?" Carol promptly hugged him, and Peter's eyes widened, as he returned her hug.

I spotted the two boys in the background. "Oh my, June! Fab! You came too!" I just had to hug them both together, then stand back and look them up and down. Wow, they sure were hot! I was just quivering and pleasurably aching at the sight of them, in tank-tops and shorts considerably shorter than boys usually wore. They both certainly had great legs...

Only a couple days earlier, I would have been mortified and scared at Peter's presense with the boys, but not any more.

"How did you know to meet me here?" I asked them.

Fab said, "You told us you had ballet when June had Taekwondo. So we came hoping to meet you again."

June continued, "I admit to having second thoughts, when Peter came as well. I got quite scared."

"Lucy, anyone wanting to come home with us, I can drive you all home. You don't have to walk or take the bus," said Peter.

"That's great!" I said. "But first, I have to get a couple things." I was going to be bold and naughty, and get tampons to try out. I walked to a nearby CVS, and made my way to the shelf with the pads and tampons. I picked out a box of tampons, more or less at random to examine. It felt deliciously exciting and forbidden.

"Cool, Lucy! You're finally getting tampons!" said Tracy.

"I had a minor acci-- no, my period began during ballet," I corrected myself. No more euphemisms, I vowed. I looked around at my friends. Tracy, Carol, and -- surprise! -- Peter were acting as if it were perfectly ordinary. Becky seemed a little aroused and embarrassed -- I reminded myself that she was a boy -- but the other boys were hugely so: red in the face, crotches bulging.

Tracy continued, "You know, Becky's suddenly gone squeamish -- she got sick when her period came, and refused to insert a tampon. She seems to have forgotten what it's like to be a girl. She wasn't so prudish, body-modest, whatever, before. Becky, we're all girls here, and we're all friends. Except when you strangle me."

All girls here, eh? I had no chance to correct that, though.

"Shaddup!" said Becky, now as red as the two boys.

Tracy didn't shaddup. "She used a pad instead, can you believe that?"

"I've always used pads," I replied. "I'm wearing one now. I just thought I might try tampons." After a little more browsing, I asked, "Any idea which I should get?"

Carol answered, "Depends primarily on your flow level. Is it light? Heavy? Moderate? In-between?"

I was about to answer that I had no idea, when I remembered that as Lucy, my period was generally rather light. Now that I thought of it, I also remembered that my pads were for light periods. "It's rather light," I answered.

"Tampax is the standard brand, and I'd go for the smallest box, since you're just trying them out." Carol picked one out and handed it to me. "Once you decide that tampons are for you, and which are the best, the largest boxes are cheapest per tampon. You'll still need pads. Don't sleep at night with a tampon."

Tracy commented, "I routinely do."

Having settled that, I decided to embarrass my friends further, the two boys in particular, and possibly give them an excited, forbidden hope. The "family planning" section was just a shelf over, so I went and picked out a box of condoms to look over.

"I'm on the pill," I pretended to comment to myself, peeking out the corner of my eyes. Peter's eyebrows rose, the boys' eyes widened further, and they glanced at each other. "So I probably don't need anything like these."

Peter surprised me. "They're still a good idea. They also protect against AIDS and VD, which the Pill doesn't."

"What about the size?" I glanced around at everyone, the two boys in particular. They seemed to have trouble breathing, with shocked but excited expressions. Tormenting the boys was delicious, and who knew? Something might actually come of this. Nobody answered my question, and I couldn't tell from the boys' crotches.

Although my original plan was simply to look, I decided to get a three-pack of regular sized. There were so many differences I didn't understand. But I got the sense that "ribbed" might be more interesting than non-ribbed, so I got that.

Throughout all this, I was trying to pretend that I was just doing something ordinary and routine, and to hide my own excitement. I wasn't completely successful.

Lubricant bottles were next to the condoms. Again, I examined one, and muttered, "As I understand it, slippery is better." That was actually based on things I read as Luke.

Peter promptly guffawed, and my other friends were all laughing as well. The boys were expressing exciting hope, fear, embarrassment; I couldn't tell what else. I wondered if Vaseline would suffice.

In the end, I decided to limit myself to the tampon and condom small-packs. "If you want, I'll get them with my purchases," said Peter. I smiled at him gratefully, and handed them to him. I'd been planning to enjoy the reaction of the boy at the check-out counter, but since Peter was nice enough...

Peter went looking around, and returned with a few things, and we went to the check-out counter. The boy scanned the condoms and the tampons along with everything else.

Once we left the store, Peter led us to his car. His car was considerably larger than Tracy and Becky's Aunt Yuko's, but with seven of us, it was going to be a bit of a squeeze. Carol took the front passenger seat. I sat on Fab's lap on the right side, and June was gracious enough to let Becky sit on his lap in the center. Tracy sat on the left side.

Sitting on Fab's lap was arousing, and even cozy, with my bare legs in contact with his bare legs, and his arms wrapped around my waist. I was concerned that my griminess from ballet practice would repel him, but he gave no indication. I covered his hands with one hand, while I took June's hand with the other. June held one arm around Becky's waist, while holding my hand with his other hand. I wanted to claim June for myself, along with Fab.

It didn't take long to get home. In fact, we got home all too soon, at least for me. Fab and June might have felt a little different.

"Oh my, you brought home many friends!" exclaimed Ma. She seemed to have recovered from this morning. "And Peter! It's wonderful to see you home for once in the afternoon. Carol, Becky, Tracy, nice to see all of you!"

Peter replied with a guilty expression, "I'm sorry about that. I really should come home more often. This is June, in my Taekwondo class, and this is his friend Fabian."

I looked gratefully at Peter for his help with the boys. Quivering in both anxiety and excitement, I stepped between them and wrapped my arms around their waists. "They're my friends, too. But now, I really must shower and change out of this. Guys." I looked around at everyone, in particular the two boys. "I'll be back down." I headed upstairs.

Once out of sight of the living room, Peter accosted me, having apparently followed me without my noticing. "Here are your goods." He handed me my tampons and condoms.

"Oh, thanks!" I agreed it would not be a good idea to let Ma find them. Although after this morning, I was briefly tempted to taunt Ma over them.

"About earlier," I began just as Peter began, "About after ballet." We both paused and laughed, and I just couldn't help quickly hugging Peter. "Let's talk about it perhaps this evening, when we have time alone," I suggested.

Peter agreed, and returned downstairs as I entered my room. I hid the condoms and tampons with the Pill, before undressing. I put on my pastel-yellow bathrobe and slippers, grabbed a pad -- I needed much more time to myself before trying out the tampons -- and crossed over to the bathroom for a shower.

Upon returning to my room, I blow-dried my hair a little, not enough to fully dry my hair. I didn't have time for that. I picked out a pair of snug, form-fitting jeans and a plain red tee-shirt a couple sizes too small. I briefly considered going braless, but I decided that was just too much. I thought the couple inches of bare midriff gave my outfit the proper touch.

I considered going barefoot, but I put on a pair of white anklet socks, and brushed out may hair. I decided to let it fall freely, partly in front of my shoulders. I was ready to return to my friends.

I cheerfully returned downstairs, where everyone was sitting around, talking, and munching on snacks Ma had apparently put out while I was upstairs. Ma, sitting in an armchair, glanced at my outfit and met my eyes. "I've invited your friends to stay for dinner."

I smiled, and loaded a paper plate with salad and chips, grabbed a Mountain Dew, and sat down on the floor between Fab and June. "Hey," I said, smiling from one to the other.

Peter was sitting on the sofa, with Carol next to him. Becky was on his other side. Tracy returned from the kitchen. "I told Aunt Yuko I wasn't going to Bikini Beach tonight. Turns out she's not going either. She has her own hot date."

We all laughed at that. All of us except Ma.

Later on, perhaps an hour before supper time, I decided I should dress up for dinner. This time, I would dress up particularly attractive for our guests.

I dashed into the house ahead of our guests, and upstairs to my room. I went to my closet and pulled out the little black tube top dress. My normal dresses had a sexy, innocent look. I didn't want sexy and innocent, I wanted straight sexy. Since the dress would only go up to my armpits, I had to wear a strapless bra as well. The dress was short.

I made sure to change my pad.

For the first time ever, I wished I had heels, but I had to make due with black shoes and a pair of black socks. Oh, well. I probably wouldn't have been able to walk in heels anyway.

I returned downstairs, and Ma promptly said, "Young lady, that dress is wholly inappropriate for dinner at home."

In the background, everyone was starting at me with various expressions of shock and appreciation. Fab shouted, "Whooow, Lucy!" and even Peter had his eyes bulging.

"Ma, you always said I should look my best for dinner. And when I bring home two nice boyfriends, I most certainly want to look my absolute best." I went up between Fab and June, and wrapped my arms around their waists, pulling them against me. They both gingerly wrapped their arms around my shoulder, having a little trouble with each other's arms, and perhaps fearful of being in front of Ma.

After a moment being tongue-tied, Ma said, "Well-dressed for dinner does not mean well-dressed for seduction." I turned and gave each boy a blatant seductive smile, while Ma continued, "That kind of dress is at best appropriate for a business party, or a night-club or dance bar. Go and change into an ordinary dress. An ordinary Sunday dress."

"No, I think I'll stick to this," I replied breathlessly. I was already feeling aroused and wet, and had to keep raising my leg and rubbing my thighs together.

"Just what do you think your Pa will do when he gets home and sees you in that dress?"

I answered in a breathy, husky tone. "Ooooo, I dunno. Perhaps spank me? Give me a nice, hard, bare-bottom whappin'?" I squeezed my thighs together hard, crossing my legs, and pulled the boys against me harder. By now, I was very much in the proper mood, and couldn't wait for another thrashing. I felt as if I'd enjoy it all the more, naked in front of everyone.

"Absolutely not!" bellowed Peter, startling all of us. His voice was louder and sharper than ever before; he sounded surprisingly like Pa. By the time I whipped around, he was standing and pounding and twisting his fist into his hand as if itching for a fight.

For the moment, I was almost in love with Peter. I slipped away from the boys, and went to him and reached up to hug his shoulders. His arms went promptly around my waist. I pulled down hard on his shoulders, standing on tip-toe. He got the message that I wanted to whisper something in his ear, and leaned down.

"Peter," I whispered. "Pa's not going to spank me, I know. But I think I'll tease Ma just a bit further, if I can. Tonight, I'll tell you what happened yesterday, after everyone's gone."

Peter nodded, and I kissed his cheek as I pulled away. He blushed.

Carol was standing by now, and promptly claimed Peter, putting her arm around his waist and leaning against him. Peter gingerly put his arm around her shoulder, obviously embarrassed at being seen doing that. Carol was apparently jealous of me, Peter's little sister, and her Bikini Beach friend!

I put an arm around her and stepped up on tip-toes, trying to whisper in her ear. I decided I was close enough and whispered, "Peter's yours; I won't get in your way. After all, I have these other boys."

Carol whispered back in my ear, "Lucy, you changed so suddenly so much, it isn't too much to think you just might seduce your own brother."

I pulled her away, to the edge of the stairs. "You're quite right, Carol. I could seduce Peter in the state I'm in now -- especially knowing how he'd defend me. But I won't. I won't get in your way with Peter. I promise." I whispered further. "You're a wonderful friend. I wouldn't be so horrible to you." I hugged her hard, and led her back into the room.

"Well," said Ma. "That was most heartwarming, I must say. I was simply satisfied that you two kids were generally friendly with each other, although doing your own thing mostly away from each other. I was happy that you weren't bickering and tormenting each other like so many other siblings."

"Should we dress up as well?" asked Becky.

"How are we to do that, Becky?" Tracy asked Becky with a sneer.

"I have some things that might fit you two," I said. "Carol, I'm sorry, everything's too small for you." Carol was a head taller than me, and stouter as well. She was about as tall as Luke. "And nothing of mine will fit you guys either." I smiled mischievously at the boys, and they laughed.

Peter said, "You look wonderful as you are, Carol." Carol was wearing a pair of loose jeans, an old, faded tee-shirt, and (just then) a bright, winning smile directed at Peter that even I could see would catch the heart of any male within leagues.

I led Becky and Tracy upstairs to my room. I got out my old red miniskirt set, the one too small for me. "You might like this." I held it up to Tracy. "If it's not too small for you." I returned to the closet, and, thinking about how Becky as formerly Bruce might prefer something more innocent, I got out one of my standard knee-length short-sleeved dresses, a sky-blue one.

"Hey, Becky, you'd look really cute in that." Tracy giggled as she was stripping down to her bra and panties.

"Thanks a lot," said Becky sarcastically. I sympathized; a boy in particular hates to be `cute'. Nevertheless, Becky also stripped down, and slid the dress on over her head.

I went to my dresser, and got out a pair of blue socks that matched Becky's dress, and a pair of pink anklets matching Tracy's miniskirt. Back at the closet, I found a pair of black shoes that were just a bit too small for me, but looked like they would fit Becky.

Meanwhile, Tracy had put on the red miniskirt and a white sleeveless blouse she'd found in my dresser, and put the red jacket on over it, leaving it unbuttoned. She stepped back into her flip-flops, saying, "I'd rather stick with these."

They certainly went well with her outfit. I looked them both up and down. "You both look handsome." There was a certain contrast between the twins, that I couldn't really articulate. Becky definitely looked more innocent, but while I couldn't make myself see it, I was sure that as Luke, I would have found them both very hot in very different ways. "Shall we go now?" I asked.

"Just one more thing," Tracy said. She took a hairbrush, went behind Becky, and brushed her hair out in a few strokes. Then she brushed her own hair. "There, that's better. Let's go!" She took my elbow and Becky's elbow, and together we left my room.

We detoured into the bathroom for a moment to wash and freshen up, as it was almost dinner. On a hunch, thinking of fun with Pa, I took Peter's hairbrush, and we returned downstairs to make our grand entrance.

Pa was home, talking with Peter and the two boys, when we returned downstairs.

"Hey, Pa!" I called out flirtatiously, holding one leg out over the next lower step, trying to emphasize my lovely legs, and waving the hairbrush through the air. "I thought you might need this." I fluttered my eyelids.

He said plaintively, almost whining even, "Lucy, please don't do this to me!" and turned and almost ran into his office. The door slammed shut, and I heard the lock click in.

I looked at Peter, then Ma, then everyone else as we slowly made our way the rest of the way down. Everyone was looking at everyone else in jaw-dropped surprise, Ma and myself included. Even remembering what Pa did to me yesterday, I didn't expect this.

Ma shook herself. "I'm going to check dinner. I think it's about ready now." She returned to the kitchen.

"Guys, it would be a good idea to wash up," said Peter to the other two boys. The three of them went upstairs, and returned a couple minutes later, just as Ma called us to dinner.

I made sure I sat between June and Fab, and Carol sat next to Peter. Pa didn't come, and Ma went to Pa's office, having to knock first. She returned shortly. "Pa's going to eat in the office."

Pa hardly ever ate in his office.

Ma spoke as she prepared a large meal for Pa. "Lucy, Pa was most disturbed by what happened yesterday, and you just rubbed it in his face."

"My dress, of course," I answered. "The hairbrush was just icing, making the message clear. Ma, as much as everyone is dying of curiosity about what happened, this is not a time to talk about it."

June turned to me. "You look wonderful."

"Yeah, absolutely ravishing!" agreed Fab, as he slipped his hand on my bare thigh.

I couldn't help blushing and giggling in both pleasure and embarrassment. "I think that was Pa's problem," I said through my giggles. Ma winced, but didn't say anything. She left to deliver the meal to Pa. I regretted saying it in a brief, rare moment of sobriety, but decided it didn't matter and forgot about it.

We continued talking, and didn't notice when Ma returned. The talk had diverged from my situation with Pa. Until--

"Get your hand away from my daughter, young man!" Ma snapped. Fab sheepishly removed his hand from my leg, to my disappointment, from partway under my short dress. I hadn't noticed that I'd spread my legs even as Fab's hand had crept northward. "And you, young lady, shame on you, letting a boy get fresh with you."

"I'm all shamed out, sorry Ma, no shame left to spare. And I like things fresh, certain things so utterly fresh they're live and flopping straight from the water." I couldn't help being silly.

"Lucy, go to your room!" snapped Ma.

"No, that would be rude to our guests. I'll stay, thank you."

"All right, young lady, you asked for it." Ma reached for and grabbed a skillet. I stood when Ma pulled me up, but caught both her wrists as she reached to lift the back of my dress.

"Now, Ma." I had to squeeze my hands and exert my arms surprisingly hard -- much harder than I would have as Luke, not that I ever did anything like that with Ma -- to hold her wrists wide apart. I looked with longing and desire on that skillet, but I had to display self-control. "I really shouldn't -- much as I'd enjoy it," I added as a breathy, husky afterthought.

Ma was staring at me almost in horror. "You'd need both hands to properly apply the frying pan." I pulsed her wrists with my hands a couple times to make the point. The skillet hit the floor with a loud clang. "You couldn't properly hold my dress up. Of course, maybe I'd do it myself, eagerly mooning my friends."

I giggled at the gasps, snorts, laughter, and other reactions I heard behind me, from around the table.

"Lucy!" Ma almost whispered.

I kept her wrists firmly wide apart. "You understand," I continued, "It would thoroughly embarrass some of my friends, especially my big brother, to witness my second-ever sexual experience." More sounds and mutterings from around the table. "Peter would be most disturbed, although I'm sure Fab and June would enjoy the spectacle."

I paused, and Fab said, "I really hope that I would have the courage to prevent the spanking if it came down to that." He paused, and I was about to say something, when he continued, "Even if someone called the police on me."

"Fab, that's so dear of you," I said, glancing over my shoulder. A cozy feeling supplemented my arousal, and I managed to finally get serious.

"Ma, should I let you go, now?" I asked soberly. She nodded, tears in her eyes. I let go of her wrists, and she rubbed and massaged her wrists for the next moment.

I sat back down to finish dinner, and then had a guilty, tearful thought. "Um, Ma? Thank you for this wonderful supper." I had my own tears now.

"You're welcome," she answered soberly.

"Yes, thank you, Ma," echoed Peter. Everyone agreed. Ma finally sat down for her own meal.

We continued eating mostly quiet for a while, but then the chatter grew as we got to talking again. Eventually we got to talking as if the interlude hadn't occurred.

After dinner, we went downstairs to play. Carol stayed upstairs to help Ma clean up in the kitchen. "How quaint, board games!" said Becky with a giggle. "Life, Monopoly."

"Wow, here's an old one, `Go for Broke'!" weighed in June. "Clue, Parcheesi. `Ropes and Ladders'."

"That looks like `Chutes and Ladders'," said Becky.

"Look! I haven't played Sorry in almost a decade!" exclaimed Fab.

I wound up playing Sorry with June and Fab, and we joked, laughed, giggled, and flirted more than playing. Carol joined Peter and the twins in another game.

All too soon, Ma came down and announced that it was time for our guests to depart. Fab and June lived near enough to walk home, and Ma took it upon herself to take Carol, Becky, and Tracy home.

That left me alone with Peter. Presumably, Pa was still holed up in his office, or perhaps in bed by now. I checked the time -- to my surprise, it was almost midnight. I realized I was rather sleepy, and Peter and I went upstairs to go to bed now.

"Peter, I promised to tell you what happened yesterday with Pa."

"Ah, yes. I must say, Lucy, you have just about the most creatively perverted mind I've ever heard. I'm proud of you! I'm also proud of how you dealt with Ma's attempt to spank you."

That was so sweet of Peter, I couldn't help hugging him. Peter was now much less reticent about returning the hug.

"About this after--" began Peter, just as I began, "After ballet--". We burst out laughing, and hugged again.

"Peter," I said after we managed to come under control. "My Bikini Beach friends always hug each other, all the time. I sort-of got into the habit there as well. It's really fun and, um, cozy." I blushed a little. "Anyway, I had to hug my friends when they came to meet me, and, well, with you, I was still in the habit and, well..." I softly giggled.

"I'm truly flattered that you thought of me like your friends. I was totally caught by surprise," answered Peter. "And embarrassed."

"Yeah, I understand." I'd been embarrassed for a moment as well, realizing that I was hugging Peter.

"Um," he continued, surprisingly bashful. "Could we do more of this on occasion?"

"Of course." I hugged him again. "But I don't think we should let Ma and Pa see us. Except, of course, that Ma already saw us."

"I fully agree. Ma only saw an exceptional case, and we shouldn't let Ma and Pa see us hugging casually." We paused for a moment, as if lost for words. Then I said, "I was going to tell you about Pa's thrashing yesterday.

"Pa really thrashed you yesterday?" Peter angrily turned around and was about to stomp out, when I grabbed his arms.

"Oh yes, wonderfully, gloriously!" I pulled him back into my room, and turned him around toward me again, closing the door. "It actually began Tuesday morning at the transit center. Becky, Tracy, and I were waiting for the bus to Bikini Beach, when we happened to encounter a woman in a nun's clothes. She was far more uptight about girls in, I guess seductive clothes. She even spoke harshly about my own outfit of jeans, t-shirt, and one-piece swimsuit underneath -- just the kind of outfit to satisfy Pa for a trip to swimming."

"You changed into those clothes this afternoon. Even I could see it as hot and seductive as your ballet outfit and your dinner dress. So how must that outfit have affect your new boyfriends?" Peter sported a twisted smile.

I blushed hard, and didn't answer that question. "They're part of the story. Anyway, I spoke eloquently about freedom, and my friends' freedom to dress as skimpily as one wanted to in America. I was with Tracy and Becky, and was referring to their outfits.

"Anyway, that was on my mind pretty much ever since. You may recall what I wore Wednesday for Mr. Matsumoto's lunch."

"Indeed, very much the image of the modern businesswoman, and very attractive to boys and men." Peter winked. "With that character Jim, if you'd followed up with your threat to kick, you'd have become a panty fighter. I hope." He blushed, as I giggled. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I meant not a Sharon Stone fighter."

I had no idea what he was talking about, and my blank expression must have shown it. "Sharon Stone is famous for a scene in `Basic Instinct' -- or so I heard," he quickly added. "She's sitting legs crossed in a short skirt, and uncrosses and recrosses her legs. The camera shows us her -- well, no panties."

I couldn't help giggling and laughing in embarrassment, and I really couldn't help imagining myself actually doing it. A pair of hot guys came to mind... I managed to calm myself back down. "Okay, my story. Yesterday morning, I was thinking and feeling -- well, I can't really remember."

"That's okay," said Peter.

"Anyway, I wore my swimsuit with shorts -- short-shorts, that is -- to Bikini Beach yesterday. Flip-flops, too." I giggled again. "I had to come home early for babysitting. I was feeling -- well, my one-piece swimsuit makes me feel -- anyway, I wore my shorts and a tank top. No bra or panties -- no underwear. Like what's-her-name." I giggled again; I couldn't help it.

"Men and boys were all checking me out at the transit center, and two boys -- very hot hunks, both of them." I giggled and blushed. "Um, came up and joined me. I recognized one, June from Taekwondo -- your class," I quickly added.

"How would you recognize him?"

"Don't ask," I replied, continuing to avoid uncomfortable questions. "We talked and flirted. They joined me on the bus home, contributing to my, uh, mood. So when I got home -- I sent them off home first -- Pa caught me dressed like that, and in that mood."

"And exploded." Peter nodded knowing.

"He was checking me out, too. I kept digging myself deeper -- not only braless and pantyless, a bikini tan, saying things in his face, denouncing his modesty demands, going to Bikini Beach. I think I crossed the line when talking back about shame and his hitting on Carol.

"He furiously threw me over his lap and yanked my shorts down. He slammed my butt hard with his book -- a hardback book. It felt really good. I mean really really good. Yeah it hurt, but it was a really really good hurt. The harder he hit, the better it was, and the more I wanted.

"I felt his -- fuck the euphemisms--" Peter snorted, momentarily losing his breath and his laughter while attempting both. I continued, "I felt his his dick hard pressed against my hip, and I kept squirming to get it hard pressed against my pussy. I was so out of control, I had my biggest, most massive orgasm ever." Peter was standing frozen, but blushing red. "Harder even than last Sunday when you came and asked if I was okay."

"Okay, okay. I get why you shooed me away then."

"I should have said, `No, everything's fine. Only mind-blasted with a massive orgasm.'"

"Well, that would have..." Peter paused.

"Anyways," I continued my story. "Yesterday's orgasm was way stronger, more intense. I creamed Pa's pants, and shouted out, `Don't stop now!' noticing he wasn't spanking me any more.

"Sanity hit, and with it, massive humiliation, and I rolled off Pa's lap, pulled my shorts up, and ran off to Daisy's house. I had dinner there. But that wasn't all." I yawned, really sleepy now. "If that was it, I'd probably be spending the day today in horrible humiliation, never leaving my room, skipping ballet, not talking with anyone, contemplating suicide. Either that, or I'd have never come home from Daisy's. Who knows what I'd have been like." I recalled Peter's earlier reaction. "And you'd probably have pulverized Pa for me."

"Yes, I would have," he agreed. I couldn't help smiling in happiness.

"What happened at Daisy's house that night seems quite tame, yet it somehow turned things for me. I awoke early, and encountered Mr. Matsumoto while in my borrowed pajamas. Mind you, nothing worse than anything you caught me in."

Peter smiled. "It always seemed natural to me."

"Me too." I smiled in return. "But confronting Mr. Matsumoto... That's how I became the girl I was today. I got the sense that nothing could humiliate me further; I'd already been through it." I noticed the bulge at his crotch and giggled. "Good night, Peter, and enjoy your jack-off session." I decided against the obvious joke about Peter's peter.

Peter blushed. "How did you--" He blushed hotter. "Oh right. Believe me, you've given me a buttload of masturbatory fuel." Peter was learning. "But be careful, please. There are still ways you could seriously ruin your life." He approached me and kissed my forehead. "Good night." I clutched him in one last hug, and he left the room.

I undressed, but didn't bother with pajamas or anything, going straight to bed nude, instead. I was sleepy.

It's Saturday. After visiting Bikini Beach in the morning, Lucy goes to high school for marching band. She meets Fab, and joins him and June the rest of the day, meeting June's family.

        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.

        Saturday, August 9

I awoke from a strange nightmare-wet-dream combination, about Pa spanking me naked in front of all my friends, including June and Fab. I think it also had something to do with today's first-day-of-band-practice. I didn't remember much of it, but most bizarre, I felt the blows -- and the blows aroused me so.

Of course, I had to go to the bathroom upon awakening. I was about to exit, when I realized I was naked. Remembering yesterday, I seriously considered going nude anyway, and if Peter caught me, all the better. But I also remembered my promise to Carol. Therefore, I put on a bathrobe before going to the bathroom. I changed my pad while I was at it.

Upon returning, I checked the letter from school about today's first practice. Yes, it was 2PM every Saturday, and no, I didn't need my clarinet. We would be fit for uniforms, and practice marching, among other things.

I realized I didn't know to get to Westside HS by city bus. I knew where it was because last year, our school bus dropped off the high-school students before turning back for Madison. I went downstairs and found a bus map of the city. No surprise, of course. To go from Bikini Beach, I had to change at the transit center. I still couldn't tell how long the bus trip would take from Bikini Beach, but I suspected that it would take at least an hour, including the waiting. I wondered if it was worth it even to go to Bikini Beach today.

The idea hit me with giddiness, that I could play with the boys instead. Then it hit me with such sadness, that I would be betraying my friends at Bikini Beach. I was now all confused and conflicted.

I was still drowsy, so I returned to bed. I slept for perhaps three more hours.

When I got up, I dressed in capris and tee-shirt, and took my Pill. I still wasn't sure what I was going to do today, besides today's band session. I packed both a one-piece and the bikini, along with accessories just in case I went to Bikini Beach. Oh, and both pads and tampons. Just in case.

The question was perhaps decided for me just as I got downstairs. The doorbell rang, and Ma admitted Becky, Tracy, and Aunt Yuko. "Hello, Mrs. Cuttington," said a slightly breathless Aunt Yuko. She continued speaking with Ma while I quickly greeted Becky and Tracy.

when I heard Aunt Yuko asking if I wanted to go to Bikini Beach, I said, "I'm all ready. Let's go." I quickly went outside, followed by Becky and Tracy, before Ma could remind me to listen to the Mental Work.

I got in the back seat of Aunt Yuko's miniature car with Becky, while Tracy got in front. "By the way," I said, once we were off. "I have band practice this afternoon at school."

"Ugh!" Exclaimed Becky. "They're starting school already?"

"Faline has band practice as well," said Tracy. "And Vanessa has her first football practice."

What!? "Wait a minute! Vanessa's playing--" Meanwhile, my thoughts caught up with me. "... football. I'm not surprised, now that I think about it. I can't say why, really."

"She's tough," said Tracy.

I brought up the subject that was worrying me. "If I go by bus, it will probably take me at least an hour to get to school. I might have to leave just after lunch."

"If you want, I can give you a ride," said Aunt Yuko.

"Would you? Thanks, that would be great! Carol might have to practice, too," I added.

Aunt Yuko drove fast, and we made it to Bikini Beach all in good time. Once I found a locker in the girls room, I removed my clothes, including my pad. I was about to put on another before putting on my one-piece, when the tampons came to mind.

I got a tampon from the box, and also the sheet of instructions. Then I just stood there, looking back and forth between the instructions in one hand, and my unopened tampon in the other, feeling very uncertain.

Things got just a bit embarrassing when Becky and Tracy along with Jen and Xena, all of them already in their swimsuits, approached while I was still standing naked, indecisive.

"Hey, Lucy. Everything okay there?" asked Xena.

"Looks like she's contemplating her first tampon," answered Tracy. "She got them at CVS just yesterday."

Jen said softly, "Your first tampon is a unique experience; it should be a special occasion."

"Yeah," agreed Tracy. "You can insert your first tampon only once. Although Becky here, if we could ever persuade--"

"Shaddup!" responded Becky.

Tracy kept talking, "It would be as if she were trying her very first one again."

"Tracy, you have no idea how right you are," said Becky, getting a bit dangerous in my opinion.

"What is that supposed to mean?" asked Tracy. "Oh, I get it." She stood straight up, with her hands on her hips. "Who are you, and what have you done with Becky?"

Becky just stuck her tongue out. Xena looked at me and rolled her eyes. I smiled and nodded in agreement.

Tracy turned back to me. "You have to spread your pussy apart, first." She reached down between my legs. "Here, let me help you." No-no-no! I slammed my legs together, shielded my crotch with my hands, and dropped the instruction sheets.

"Molestrix!" exclaimed Xena, laughing.

I remembered my vow: no shame. I took a long, slow, deep breath and let my legs spread open. "I'll do it myself."

"It's easier if you stand with one foot on a bench," said Vanessa, whom I hadn't seen approach.

"Don't bug me. Don't watch me, either."

"Oh sorry," she said.

I opened the packet and discarded the wrapping. Feeling everyone's eyes on me despite my demand, I fiddled around like I was masturbating and found the hole. I started pushing in the tampon.

Everyone's laughter surrounded me, and Jen (yes, Jen!) said, "You're inserting it backwards!"

I'm beyond humiliation. I'm beyond humiliation. I'm beyond humiliation. I kept echoing that through my mind, as I pulled the tampon out and turned it around before pushing it back in.

"That's far enough," said Vanessa. "You don't want to push the bigger cylinder all the way in. Now, push the smaller cylinder up into the bigger one."

I suppressed my annoyance, and followed her procedure. "Now pull the cylinders out," she continued. I did, and to my surprise, a string dangled down between my legs. I'll admit I'd never have done it right without advice and help.

"Congratulations!" said Vanessa, as everyone applauded. "You did it!" I didn't feel exactly triumphant.

"You don't have a hymen!" said Xena.

"She's been doing ballet," replied Becky. "She probably lost it some years back."

"Ah, okay," said Xena.

"Now dispose of the applicator," said Vanessa. "You won't need it any more."

Oh? That thing was just the applicator? I didn't want to ask; I'd really look ridiculous, if I did.

I grabbed my one-piece swimsuit, and promptly stepped into it and slid it up, hooking the straps over my shoulders. I stood still, trying to work myself into that state of firmness and authority. I didn't want to go out of control from the stimulation.

I turned and faced the girls. "Okay, girls. Entertainment's over. I have to shower, and then shall we go out and enjoy the innocent amusement that Bikini Beach offers?"

Why wasn't I surprised to see the remaining girls, Carol and Faline, with us? Nancy and Cindy were with them as well.

Carol reached out and pulled me into a hug as I began to leave to shower. I froze a moment, before relaxing and releasing myself, and returning the hug. After all, she was the least of the offenders. I managed to avoid crying.

I suddenly recalled. "Are you coming to marching band practice?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Carol replied. "I've decided to go with both flute and violin in the orchestra."

"That's okay," I said, a bit disappointed. At least I'd see a number of familiar faces from last year in middle-school band.

I went and showered, and when everyone was dressed and showered, we went out for our morning fun.

We were climbing the long climb up for the Lava Run, when Faline, just behind me, said "Your tampon string is showing."

I looked down. Oops. I said nothing, merely slipped my tampon string back underneath my swimsuit.

Carol said, "I've heard of that happening. I've read of a couple cases where her boyfriend thinks it's just a loose string from her swimsuit and attempts to yank it off -- resulting in a painful scream and sometimes a swat."

"I've absolutely no sympathy for those boyfriends," said Faline.

"Lucy, this was your first tampon ever, I understand," said Carol.

"Yessss," I said, not wanting to talk about it.

"Nancy helped me with my first one when I first got my period," Carol said. "I still don't know whether my mom approves. For the next year or so, I always got mine when Dad and I went shopping, or Nancy and I. Dad didn't know what they really were. I think Mom came to accept it as a fait accompli."

"What is that?" asked Becky.

"What? Oh, a fait accompli? An accomplished fact. A done deed. Something too late to do anything about. It's said that it's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. It's that kind of idea."

"Bear in mind," said Vanessa, "that's not such a good idea when doing it and asking for forgiveness leads to a beating, or even imprisonment."

"On the other hand," I said. "If one desires the beating, really-really wants the beating, it's not a deterrent"

"Eh, that's the strangest thing I ever heard!" said Faline.

"Strange?" said Becky. "You want strange? You weren't with us at Lucy's house yesterday. Now that was strange!"

"I'm wondering now," I said, "if yesterday and Thursday were just one-shot affairs, and a repeat of the thrashing would be the painful thing it's meant to be. Or maybe I have to be in the proper mood."

"And just what is the proper mood?" challenged Faline.

"Having two hot guys wrapped around her certainly helps," said Tracy, giggling.

"two hot guys? This is getting interesting!" said Faline.

"So true, that's so true," I said with my own giggle. "I met them Thursday on the way home. Remember what I wore?"

"Not particularly," said Xena.

I couldn't help giggling at that. "Well, I attracted attention. And two boys, friends, came up and joined me. After a moment's nerves, I realized they really were hot hunks. June even knew Peter from Taekwondo!"

"So now you're over your crush on your clarinet teacher, now?" asked Tracy, startling me.

"Who told you about that?"

"You did," she answered.

We'd arrived at the top of the Lava Run by then. The next thing I knew, I was sliding rapidly down the twisty, bumpy, scary, exhilarating slide, eventually reaching the pool below in far less time than it took to climb up.

As soon as we got back together, Faline said, "I just realized, going down the slide, how scrambled my brain was."

"The Lava Run does that to you," said Tracy.

"I meant before going down the slide, Tracy," said Faline. "I seem to recall Lucy insinuating that she was thrashed or something, and actually enjoyed it."

I decided that discretion would be most appropriate here. On the other hand, they might enjoy hearing about my first ever sexual experience with another person. Then I'd enjoy seeing them cringe knowing it was with Pa.

"Lucy did say something to that effect," said Xena.

"Yeah, she did," said Carol. "And Becky was right. Yesterday was just about the strangest supper I'd ever had. Quite frankly, Lucy was the silliest I'd ever seen her -- out-sillying even Tracy and Becky." Carol laughed, as did we all. "She'd dressed up sexily for dinner, probably for the two boys -- and showed lots of leg--"

"Says the girl in a bikini, showing off practically everything," I retorted.

Carol slapped my buttocks, causing me to gasp and quiver in desire and anticipation. "Oh, oh, do that again. Harder!"

"Now now, girls," intervened Vanessa. "I'm sure we'd enjoy a good catfight here, but the lifeguards would look much less favorably on such a display."

"Aww," I said.

"Guys, let's head to the Pipeline while you work this out," suggested Jen.

"Good idea," said Vanessa. So off we trudged.

"Lucy was like that yesterday," said Becky.

"Yeah," said Carol. "I wasn't sure whether it was genuine, or she was playing a really dangerous game of reverse psychology. I'm still not sure, Lucy." She turned pointedly to me.

"Care to find out?" I reached behind and pointed my thumb at my bottom.

"May I try it?" whispered Jen, really surprising me.

"Go ahead, give it a shot," I was quite curious how it would turn out. She gave me a really mild slap; it did practically nothing for me. "Sorry, it has to be much harder." I think she was a bit embarrassed, so I smiled. Xena stepped back and wrapped her arm around her.

"The way Lucy talked," said Tracy, "she was excited, almost aroused, at the prospect of Pa spanking her for that dress. A bare-bottom bustin', she said."

"Almost?" I snickered. That `almost' was utterly wrong.

Tracy continued, "Then Lucy's big brother, Peter, a wonderfully chivalrous man, came alive. He made it crystal clear that nobody was going to spank Lucy."

"Oh, yeah. Peter's such a wonderful big brother," I said. "I made Carol seriously jealous, yesterday."

"Yes, indeed." Carol smirked. "I'm so in love with Peter." I couldn't tell whether she was serious or sarcastic. "And he noticed, probably for the first time ever, that his little sister is a very pretty, lovely, seductive, hyper young lady."

I couldn't help snorting.

She continued, "Hey, I could go for you! I wouldn't mind a threesome with you and your brother."

I snorted again. "That's very nice of you. But I think I'd prefer my threesome with Fab and June."

"Be nice and share with the rest of us, both of you," giggled Tracy.

"You have your own hunks, Tracy," said Carol.

"Come on, you know I've never been able to find them!"

"Heh," said Becky. "For all you know, they're both girls now."

"Silly girl!" shouted Tracy. Becky just stuck her tongue out at her.

"Say, Lucy," said Vanessa. "Tell us about Fab and June. They're the two boys?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Yeah, and while you're at it, tell us about your clarinet teacher as well!" added Tracy.

I giggled. "Now that was just silly! Sure, it was fun to greet him with a hug--"

"--and a kiss?" asked Becky.

"Na, didn't go that far. Maybe next week," I replied, sticking my tongue out.

"Awwww!" exclaimed both twins simultaneously. `Bruce', I thought, `You're becoming more and more like Tracy.' Of course, the old woman had said right at the start that Bruce/Becky would become very much like Tracy.

Becky added, "You didn't kiss your two boys either. You only kissed your big brother." She stuck her tongue out at me.

"Becky, one of you two look-alikes appreciatively called Peter `chivalrous'. Why do you think that I kissed his cheek? ANYways, about the two boys. They're my age, or perhaps a year older, and they appear to be best friends, BFFs. One of them, June, does Taekwondo with Peter. He, Peter, thought well enough of them to drive them home with the rest of us, and they stayed for the afternoon and for dinner."

I couldn't help giggling again, reminded of Pa. "Pa was talking with them, when I appeared in my nice dinner dress. I, um,..." I couldn't think of a catchy way to put it.

"Flirtatiously invited her Pa to spank her," snickered Tracy.

"Precisely," I agreed, to everyone's laughter.

We began the climb up to the Pipeline.

Carol said, "Taunting his opposition to girls in skimpy, revealing dress."

"Taunting his -- how to put it? -- inadvertent introduction of me to, um..." I decided not to say it.

"Sex?" twitted Becky?

"Yah," I said. "The kinky form, very much so."

"One's introduction to sex," stammered Jen even more shyly than usual, "Should be a wonderful experience." She smiled at Xena, who smiled in return. "Having Dad do it seems, well, icky."

Faline said, "I'm confused. How did inviting her Pa to spank her become taunting his introduction of her to sex?"

Xena answered, "Easy enough. Anyone heard of BDSM?"

Vanessa answered, "Bondage and Discipline, and Sadomasochism. I'd guess Pa spanked Lucy because of what she wore home Thursday afternoon, and Lucy got off on it."

"It was actually more than what I was wearing then," I tried to explain. "Although he was looking me up and down, and I felt he was checking me out."

"He probably was," said Carol. "I get the impression he's highly attracted to pretty girls, and feels he's really not supposed to be. He's probably horribly conflicted, and that makes him furious at girls in skimpy dress."

"Provoking his base lust?" asked Xena.

"That's probably close to the truth," I said, "as mortified as I would be at the idea only a couple days ago. You see, after I provoked him into pulling me over his lap, I could feel his--"

"Hard cock. Probably huge hard cock," said Tracy naughtily.

I was going to going to say one of those names. Truly I was. Tracy just got there first.

"Tracy, can't you use nicer language?" asked Faline.

"Nah, let's fuck the euphemisms." I echoed what I'd said to Peter the previous night.

"Lucy!" exclaimed all the girls simultaneously.

I stuck my tongue out. "So Pa slammed me over his lap and yanked down my shorts -- and discovered no panties, and last week's bikini tan. And I felt his hard cock digging into the side of my butt.

"I was already hyped-up from the two boys, and when he slammed my butt with that book, it felt wonderful. I mean, really, really good. I couldn't wait, and his next blow was even harder, and felt even better. His cock was hard against my hip, and I kept twisting and squirming to get his cock against my c-- c-- my c--" Oh blast, I just couldn't get myself to say it. "My cunny." Okay, I said the baby version. I raised my voice over the snorts and guffaws, "He kept slamming and slamming, and I was so completely cumming in my longest, loudest, screamiest orgasm that I didn't notice for a few seconds after he stopped slamming me -- and I shouted don't stop!"

"Fuck, I would have killed myself!" said Becky.

"Yeah. Once it hit me, I just ran off," I said. "And pulled my shorts up," I added just to be clear. "I remembered my babysitting appointment, so I went there. And yes, Becky, if that were it, I probably would have been found dead somewhere. But I encountered Mr. Matsumoto in my borrowed light, fluffy, summer short pajamas."

"He was wearing your borrowed pajamas?" said one of the twins.

"No, I was! Geeze!" Egads! "I decided that nothing would further embarrass me. I think I also decided then and there that I was unpunishable.

"Peter, by the way, did warn me there were still dangers out there for me. I might be jailed. And it did occur to me that not every spanking would feel great or simply namby-pamby. Perhaps I had to be in the proper mood."

We continued chatting, until we reached the top of the Pipeline. We went down, a couple retrieving their bikini tops, and then returned to the entrance for lunch. Thankfully, Aunt Yuko was there, along with others' family. Right after lunch, I would have to change and go for band practice, and Aunt Yuko had promised to take me. Faline and Vanessa had their own practices as well.

The other five girls, along with their families, saw us off. I had to shower, dry off, change into street clothes, the works. Surprisingly, Aunt Yuko simply slipped a tee-shirt over her bikini top.

Just before we left, I panicked momentarily, not having my clarinet with me. Then I remembered, we didn't need our instruments. I was still nervous and scared: high school for the first time, marching band... This was all new to me.

Along the way, Aunt Yuko asked me, "Now that you've been to Bikini Beach for a week, what do you think of it?"

"Well," I said, thinking the question over. "Things have been very different, being a girl and all."

"Oh?" she said. I realized that I'd just said something strange, and potentially revealing. "Oh!" she echoed. "Your reluctance... and Becky... makes a whole lot more sense now." She paused a long moment, leaving me unsure whether she really got it. "It's really strange... Don't worry, I won't make an issue of it."

"Kids would torment a boy, and even beat him up, for being a girl," I said, half to myself. "Even if he wasn't one."

Aunt Yuko let me off at the Westside High School main entrance. Numerous students were there, and the walls had signs telling us where to go. I mixed in with the crowd, finding where we had to check in.

I spotted many students I recognized from eighth-grade band. I greeting a few friends from last year with hugs, and one of the guys said, "Oh wow, Lucy. That's very friendly of you."

Despite this, when a familiar voice called out, "Hey, Lucy!" I searched for the source, and spotted Fab in the distance, working his way through the crowd toward me. Feeling a sudden burst of giddy happiness, I worked my way to him and hugged him hard.

I backed off, still holding his waist, and looked him up and down. "Hey, Fab. Say, is June with you?" I was quivering in breathless excitement. I had to breath really hard.

"Sorry, he isn't. We didn't know you'd be here. He isn't involved in any of these activities." We continued our way to where the band was meeting. "In fact, your family said you were at Bikini Beach."

We continued walking, hand-in-hand, towards where the marching band students were checking in. Signs directed us toward the band rehearsal room, but Fab seemed to know where to go.

"You came to visit me? Oh, how sweet!" I said.

"June and I both did -- without telling the other. I had to admit, I wanted to see you for myself. He did too, it turns out. We had a good laugh, especially when your Ma told us you were at Bikini Beach."

"Now really," I said. "I don't wish to come between best friends."

"Don't worry about that; it was just a brief notion. I'm very happy that you like both of us." At the moment, I was high and happy myself, and quite wet at the idea of seeing both Fab and June together again.

We got to the band room, and got in line to sign in. Something belatedly occurred to me: "Wait a minute! Are you in band as well?" We'd been walking together, without it occurring to me whether he was going to the right place.

"Yeah, I play trombone. Say, this is swell! What do you play?"

"Clarinet."

"Cool. Now that I think of it, I think I do recall seeing you in band two years ago, in middle school. You were really tiny, amidst the big girls of clarinet."

Now that was an embarrassing memory! "Thanks for the reminder," I said.

"Come to think of it," he continued. "You'd grown by the end of the year. Not quite yet the vision of loveliness I see before me now."

"Oh, flatterer!" I swatted him lightly.

"Get moving, lovebirds," said someone behind us in line. Oops! We dashed forward, almost to the desk.

I signed in when I reached the desk, and wrote down my instrument (clarinet), along with lots of other information. Fab was at the table, signing in as well, and I heard the girl comment, "Oh, yes. You're the boy with the ridiculous name." I turned my head and glared at her, just about ready to curse her out.

"That's quite all right." Fab smiled at me. "I know quite well how ridiculous my name is."

"Hey! Nothing's ridiculous about it! You're fabulous!"

After all this, I was directed to a private room off to one side, to be fitted for my marching uniform.

A boy and a girl were in the room, and they had me standing facing away from them. "Waist," said one, and the other wrapped a measuring tape around my waist, and read off the number. "Hip." "Thighs." "Inseam."

"Ah!" I giggled at the chilly, tickling touch to my crotch.

The boy behind me said, "That girl's seriously aroused."

I looked back at him and harrumphed "Whadya expect, molesting me like that?" It came out almost a shriek.

The girl said, "Let's get on with it. We have lots of band members to go through."

Maybe someone will pulverize them, I thought to myself, letting them proceed.

After the fitting, we found our places, me in the clarinet section and Fab with the trombones. I recognized some of the other clarinetists, and we all chatted while the rest of the band went through their measurements

Eventually, they were finished processing the students, and a man whom I vaguely recalled from seeing the high-school band perform at the middle school, mounted the director's stand.

The director clapped his hands, and everyone quieted down. "Greetings, and welcome everyone. Welcome back, those of you returning to Westside High Band, and a cordial welcome to all you newcomers. I am George Sommer, and I hope for an enjoyable, entertaining, and productive season this year."

Mr. Sommer introduced the band's drum major, a senior who was effectively the second in command of the band, perhaps the sergeant to Mr. Sommer's captaincy.

Then we all went out onto the football field. Off in the distance, next to the race tracks, I could see the cheerleaders already practicing routines. I guessed that those running laps up, around, and down the stairs of the stadium were football players.

They divided us into lines of four. In my case, the four were all girls, and, as we discovered while the others were divided up, clarinet players.

Then we got down to business. The drum major was shouting out like a drill sergeant, "Right face! Forward march! About face!" and numerous other commands. Most of the newcomers, including myself, had to learn right from scratch to perform those maneuvers, and I found the snapping rather oppressive. We also had to learn how to march correctly, repeatedly counting to eight, and always starting off "one" on our left leg.

We were very far from it now, but ultimately, we would march in perfect synchronization, or so we were told.

Frankly, I was relieved when it was all over, and we were dismissed. I ran up to Fab. "Fab!" I called excitedly. "You free the rest of the afternoon?"

"Absolutely!" answered Fab. "So is June. Say, how did you get here?"

"Becky and Tracy's Aunt Yuko brought me. I think the plan was for me to return to Bikini Beach after practice. But I wanna be with you and June."

Fab blushed. Once he recovered, he said, "I came by bus, and I'll probably take the bus home. Actually, I came from your house. June and I both visited, hoping to see you. We wound up spending the morning chatting with your parents. Peter was there some of the time as well. Your Ma made us nice lunch sandwiches, and we stayed until I had to come here for band."

"Oh, my goodness! That must have been one of the scariest things." I could imagine a boy facing a girl's parents -- especially Luke in me could.

"It was a bit scary," he admitted. "But with both June and me there--"

"And me getting two boyfriends at once probably has to compound the scariness," I interrupted.

"Well, I was going to say things are more comfortable and less scary when someone else is with you in the same position. We'd met and talked earlier, and not only that, we'd been privy to intimate exchanges between you and the rest of your family."

"True. They would have been embarrassing exchanges, if I were going to be embarrassed. I still hope I've banished embarrassment to the garbage truck once and for all. But then there's Ma and Pa, who seemed embarrassed at times."

"Heh," laughed Fab. "I was embarrassed for an instant when your Ma caught me being, um, fresh with you. But then you -- lovable friend that you are -- pulled it onto yourself." He swept an arm around my shoulders, and pulled me to him. I had to struggle a bit, to get my arm around his waist, and remain pressed against him.

I wasn't exactly paying attention to where we were going, so I was surprised to hear Aunt Yuko's voice calling out, "Lucy!" I looked around, and saw Aunt Yuko yelling from her tiny car.

I pulled Fab over to the car with me. "Hi, Aunt Yuko, this is Fabian. Becky and Tracy met him yesterday. Oh, yes. Fab, she's Becky and Tracy's Aunt Yuko."

"Hello, Fab. My nieces mentioned you. I'm pleased to meet you. I understand another boy's involved as well."

"Yes, Ms. -- sorry, I didn't get your last name," said Fab.

"Higuchi. I'm Yuko Higuchi. Call me Yuko if that's easier."

"Would you believe that I never remembered her last name?" I said with a titter. "I just call her Aunt Yuko, like the twins."

"So do you want to return to Bikini Beach?" asked Aunt Yuko. "Or do you have other plans for the remainder of the afternoon?"

"Fab? Where do you think June will be?"

"I don't know. He might have gone to Taekwondo this afternoon after I left your house. He might still be there, or he might have gone home."

"Shall we try his house?" I asked, a bit breathy, imagining finding June home alone and another sexual experience, this time with two hot guys. "It would be nice to know where you two live."

"That okay?" asked Fab.

"Certainly," said Aunt Yuko. We got into the back seat. "You'll have to direct me."

"June lives a few blocks from Lucy," said Fab.

Aunt Yuko drove off, and I reached over and took Fab's hand.

"I hear that you met just recently," said Aunt Yuko from the front. "Was it `Love at first sight'?" I didn't know how to answer that. "How about hyperattraction at first sight?" she continued.

"That sounds about right," I answered with a giggle. "Along with second sight, third sight, and so forth." I shifted over and leaned against Fab.

Time flies when you're caught up in the excitement of the moment, because it seemed as if we arrived immediately at June's house.

We both got out and went up to the door. Fab rang the bell, and the door shortly opened, revealing June. "Lu--" he exclaimed, getting no further as I exclaimed, "June!" and promptly glommed onto him in a hug.

"Oof!" he wheezed. "Both of you, come in, come in!"

I looked him up and down, as we entered. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but white boxers with red hearts. He apparently didn't know the difference between shorts and boxer underwear.

I had no idea a shirtless boy would look so handsome. He was serious eye-candy -- or better, yet, eye-tickler, and I wanted more, so much more. There was only one way. "Get together, you two." I was seriously tempted to rip off Fab's shirt, but instead, I wrapped my arms around both Fab and June, and pushed them next to each other. They only put up token resistance.

Fab and June looked so fine, only one thing could surpass them, and that was Fab and June together. "Arm around each other!" Oh wow, they actually did it! The goosebumps exploded all over me, and I was getting perverted ideas.

I embraced them both and pressed up against them. June's bare chest felt particularly warm and cozy They both rotated to press against me, and I teased them by ducking back out under their arms and putting their hands on each other's waist.

I burst out laughing at their wide-eyed, jaw-dropped expressions. My heart swelled, and I put my hands on their shoulders for support and lifted my legs to wrap around their hips. I kissed June's cheek, and turned to kiss Fab's. He promptly turned to kiss my lips. My lips melted, my eyes closed, and I simply let myself float in the moment, enjoying my tongue playing with his.

A throat-clearing brought me around, just as Fab removed his lips. It was June's turn. I turned my face toward his, and my mouth hit his. Again, I let myself relax and float and enjoy the moment.

I don't know which of us somehow separated from the other, but I finally came to with both Fab and June looking at me weirdly. I looked at one then the other. "Just a minute." I felt irritatingly wet, so I slipped down and and removed my capris -- ah, the cook air down there felt so much better as I returned and mounted the boys.

"Now kiss each other," I breathed huskily.

June and Fab looked at me in shock, and then at each other. Both squashed up their faces in disgust, and I burst out laughing. "Come on guys! You're tough, men, you can do it! Close your eyes if you want. You're supposed to close your eyes anyway."

They did close them, both of them, and moved their faces to each other. `Oh my, they're gonna do it!' They hesitated until I thought they were going to wimp out, but they leaned forward and bumped their noses.

They backed away with a guffaw and a snort, and approached again, banking their heads. Their lips came together, first tentatively touching. I held my breath in suspense, and squeezed and relaxed my legs in my excitement. They opened their mouths, and pressed them fully together, finally kissing in earnest, working their mouths on each other's lips. Their entire bodies relaxed in each other's arms.

They were not only kissing in earnest, but also caressing their backs, sliding their hands in loops over the other's back.

I never knew boys' kissing could ever be so hot, but as a complete surprise, multiplying the excitement, Fab pulled his mouth from June's, and nibbled June's neck and shoulder, including the sensitive tendons in between. June gasped and rasped, "Oh my God!"

I just had to join them. I pulled up against them, wound up kissing their upper arms, after which they both worked their arms out and around my back to pull me in for serious three-way kissing.

Eventually we pulled apart, and I was so happy and excited. My panties were so irritatingly moist that I seriously considered removing them as well, but I realized I didn't have my condoms with me. I settled for standing with my legs straddled apart. I couldn't help my heavy breathing, either.

With both June and me in underwear, Fab removed his own jeans and t-shirt, revealing his solid green boxers. Both boys were sporting bulges. I grabbed their shoulders and mounted them again, wrapping my arms and legs around them. Fab supported my bottom, very nice of him even though I didn't really need the support.

As soon as I began kissing Fab, June mouthed my neck. That felt the strangest ever, and I couldn't help pulling my mouth back from Fab and squeezing down on June's face, gasping and emitting a high-pitched, wavering, "Ahh!" Unwittingly, I left my neck wide open on the other side for Fab's mouth.

With both Fab and June mouthing my neck and shoulder, I couldn't help laughing and gasping out repeated high-pitched "Ahhh!" sounds and gasps. I was breathless and out of control, even as I squeezed down on one side then the other. My crotch was pulsating hard, and my whole body was buzzing with an approaching whopper of an orgasm.

I just then became aware that Fab's hand supporting me had slipped under my panties, and a couple fingers were masturbating me. "My butt itches for a good, hard bashing," I said gasping and huffing, utterly caught up in the moment.

I was suddenly dropped like a hot potato, and I just barely managed to land on my feet. "What was that for?"

"What did you just say there?" asked Fab.

Just then, I heard the garage door opening. I stepped over and stepped quickly into my capris. My dampness and smell were partially muffled by my pants, but I was still emitting a residual odor.

Strangely, neither Fab nor June were putting on their pants or shirt. I looked at them quizzically. Fab said, "That's June's normal mode of dress at home, and I sometimes join him. I find it very much refreshing."

The door to the garage opened, and a girl entered, obviously June's big sister. "Hey, kids," she greeted us. "You really must introduce me to your pretty little friend. Hello, I'm Jing." She looked curiously at me.

"Hi, I'm Lucy Cuttington." I was nervous again, hoping I hadn't committed a faux-pas. I reached out my hand for a handshake.

"She's our new girlfriend," said June. Fab and I both laughed.

"I can tell, there's been some action here," said Jing with her own laugh. "Lucy, you really must stay for dinner. Seriously, Mama and Baba will be most happy that June isn't gay."

Even as we all laughed again, I thought of Fab and June kissing, and wondered -- was that really true? Once over their initial queasiness, they'd gotten seriously into the kissing. If I were lucky, they would be bisexual. I wanted them both, and I wanted them badly -- together.

"Yeah, please stay," said June.

"Mind if I call home? I should tell them where I am and that I'm staying for supper."

"Certainly," said Jing. "Meanwhile, I'll head upstairs and change out of my work outfit."

The phone was in the kitchen, and I called home. Ma answered, "Hello?"

"Ma?"

"Lucy! Miss Higuchi stopped by and told me that she'd dropped you and Fabian off at June's house after band practice today."

"Yeah, we spent the rest of the afternoon together until June's sister got home, about five minutes ago."

"Lucille Meagan Cuttington," said Ma sharply. "Are you telling me that you and the two boys spent the past hour alone together?" Yikes! I only remembered my full name just now!

"Of course. We had a most wonderful time." I giggled. "And Jing -- that's June's sister -- insists I stay for supper. And I'm going to. I want to meet June's parents as well."

"They'll be home in five or ten minutes," said Jing from behind me. She had changed out of her work clothes and into t-shirt and shorts, the type of short-shorts that got Pa furious at me Thursday afternoon.

"Young lady," said Ma, "You're already in trouble for having been alone with two boys. If you don't get home promptly, the punishment will be all the worse."

"I'm looking forward to it, Ma. Meanwhile, I'll enjoy a fine dinner--"

"Lucy," Ma interrupted, and I automatically paused. "I seriously don't know what to do with you."

"I'm sure I'll find out when I get home, and I'll surely enjoy it thoroughly. See you tonight. Love-ya, Ma. Bye." Strange, I realized as I hung up. I hardly ever expressed `love you' or did any kind of hugging, with my family, because of the embarrassment. What led me to say it now? No longer being embarrassed at the idea of being naughty, perhaps? Or being caught being naughty?

"That was just strange," said Jing.

"It had something to do with the strangeness yesterday at her house," said June.

"Yeah, that was really strange," added Fab. "Lucy was the hottest I'd ever seen her -- any girl -- seductively stepping down her stairs in a very short black shoulderless dress, with legs down to there." He leaned forward and reached way down. "Flirtatiously twirling a hairbrush, Lucy actually suggested that Pa would need it!"

"I was inviting Pa to punish me for my revealing dress," I added.

"Flirtatiously," added Fab. "Seriously! Her Pa complained, almost whined even: `Don't do that to me!' and ran to his office."

"Really? Oh my," said Jing. We spent the next few minutes amusing ourselves telling Jing all about yesterday's supper. Then June and Jing's parents got home. I'd never met them before, so I was a bit nervous but also excited.

Fab promptly introduced me, before June could. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Mao. Let me present our new girlfriend, Lucy Cuttington." He gestured toward me.

I got up and held my hand out for a handshake. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Mao." I shook both of their hands.

"I'm very happy to meet you, Lucy," said Mrs. Mao. "June has told us quite a bit about you."

We had a delicious Chinese dinner. Afterwards, we all watched a Hong Kong video, fortunately with English subtitles. "We don't understand the spoken language any more than you, because the video's in Cantonese, while our language is Mandarin Chinese," said June. Perhaps Jen and Xena might understand it.

I sat between Fab and June on the sofa, the lights were turned off, and the video began. During the initial warnings and ads, the three of us rather clumsily put our arms around each other's shoulders. My arms were around the boys, and both boys had their arms around me, eventually.

I tried pulling them toward me, and they nicely obliged. I was sandwiched between two hot guys -- it was wonderful.

The movie began. It was the kind Ma and Pa would never allow me to watch, about organized crime in Hong Kong. It was gruesomely violent, but had an exciting, compelling story.

Caught up as I was in the story and also in pleasure, I only gradually became aware how I was humming and moaning from two hands squeezing and massaging my shoulders and upper back. A hand was also resting on my left thigh. I began lightly touching and caressing their shoulders with my fingertips.

My fingertips gradually worked their way under their arms to their armpits, where I continued sliding my fingertips in a walking motion. I felt a massive shudder to the right; meanwhile the left arm rose, giving me more space to feel up his armpit, and the hand lifted on its fingertips and lightly and slowly tickled my inner thigh.

Excited, aroused, and damp as I was, I simply had to lift and spread my legs, and hook my knees over their thighs, between their legs, before settling down again. The hand returned to my left inner thigh, lightly caressing with fingertips, and another hand rested on my right thigh.

Both hands gradually approached my crotch. They reached a tendon on either side, about the same time. A mischievous idea occurred to me, and I squeaked to hold my laughter in.

I pulled my arms from their shoulders, and reached down to take their fingers in my hands. The boys provided surprisingly no resistance as I interleaved each other's fingers together like fastening a seatbelt. I replaced their hands just in front of my pussy, and replaced my arms around their shoulders and returned to lightly tickling their underarms.

They kept their fingers interleaved. As they played thumbsies, their thumbs lightly brushed against my cloth-covered mound, very lightly tickling me. I kept myself completely relaxed, and simply enjoyed the feeling as it spread throughout my body.

The movie ended, and both boys pulled their hands apart, just before someone turned on the lights. We kept sitting, our arms around each other. I realized my face was heavily flushed, and so were theirs.

"I guess I should head home," I said.

"It's late," said Mrs. Mao. "I'll drive you home." So we went out, and the two boys and I got into the back seat, me as usual between them. Fab was behind Mrs. Mao, and he directed her to my house. I held both boys' hands, fingers interleaved, as we went home.

As we approached, I noticed a car in the driveway of our house. Generally, our cars were parked in the garage. So what was up?

We parked the car next to the curb. June opened the car door, and I hugged Fab before getting out after June. I hugged him as he got back into the car, and stood and watched as the car drove off.

I turned, and went up the walkway to the front door, wondering about the strange car in the driveway. As I unlocked and opened the door, I was confronted with Ma, Pa, Peter, and a strange man and woman. None of them looked happy, and Peter looked particularly distressed. Pa's expression changed immediately from sober to embarrassed. This was really the first time Pa had seen me, other than that brief moment Friday, since the thrashing.

What was going on?

"Lucy," said Ma. "I wish to present Mr. and Mrs. Winstead."

"I'm pleased to meet you," I said, shaking both of their hands.

"You won't be much longer," said Peter.

"Peter," said Ma. After a pause, she returned her attention to me. "Mrs. Winstead is a very good friend of mine, and a member of our Firmlove group. You will be spending the next few days with her." This didn't sound good. Only just then did I notice the small suitcase next to her on the floor. "I've packed a case of clothes and necessities for you."

Firmlove was for out-of-control children and teenagers, and I'd just been dubbed out-of-control. Okay, I wasn't going to beg or otherwise humiliate myself. I would find out what was going on, and deal with it.

I took the suitcase, and followed Mr. and Mrs. Winstead out to their car, and got in the back seat. They drove off, and I wasn't able to keep track of where we were going.

Wherever it was, we eventually arrived.

Mrs. Winstead returns Lucy home the same night, after currently omitted events. Later, Peter and Lucy have dinner with Carol's family, and Peter agrees to try out Bikini Beach.

        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.

I have omitted Lucy's story at the Winsteads and a possible section of Glenn's story. I begin with Mrs. Winstead deciding to return Lucy home.

        Saturday Night, August 9

"All right, Lucy." Mrs. Winstead grabbed me from behind and twisted me around. "We're taking you home. Erin was right. You really ARE hopelessly out of control."

I smiled as I twisted out of Mrs. Winstead's grasp. "Indeed, I go gloriously out of control at the prospect of a spanking."

"This has been a most revealing evening," said the older son. "And I don't mean Lucy's delightfully shameless self-display, but how she acted as you spanked P.J. It was so wrong of me to stand by when you or Dad spanked him, and I'm not going to do that any more. I won't take even threatening him with a spanking. If Lucy can act, so can I."

"You discuss that with your Dad," said Mrs. Winstead, "While I take Lucy home -- before she seduces either of you."

I picked up the small suitcase before Mrs. Winstead had a chance, and opened the door to the garage, politely letting Mrs. Winstead pass through before me. "Let's go," she said. "I'm sleepy enough as it is." I got into the back seat, and we backed out. "Seatbelt, Lucy." Oh yes, of course; I immediately secured it around me.

We got home in good time. She stopped at the curb, and I said as I got out, "I truly enjoyed this evening, Mrs. Winstead; well, except when Mr. Winstead spanked your son." I wondered what Mr. Winstead was doing with his right wrist at the moment. "Good night."

"Good night, Lucy." The car pulled away and departed as I walked up to the front door. I unlocked and entered the house, which was all dark and silent. As quiet as possible to avoid waking anyone up, I went upstairs to bed. Only at the last minuit did I remember to remove my tampon and put on a pad.

        Sunday, August 10

I woke up rather late Sunday morning, from confused dreams where someone was about to spank me, or thrash me, or something, and it wasn't quite happening.

As usual, I had to use the bathroom. I'd gone to bed clad only in a pad last night, and was thinking of going to the bathroom that way, no matter if Peter saw me. But, thinking of Carol and my promise to her, I decided against it, as I stretched and raised myself off my bed. I didn't want to interfere with her and Peter.

I put on a bathrobe, went to the bathroom to meet my needs, and returned to my bedroom. The house sounded as if nobody else were up, so I thought I'd go back to sleep, myself.

I pondered for a while the previous night's events. I'd tried to get a household of complete strangers to spank me, bare-bottom even, and I'd kicked Mr. Winstead's hand as he tried to spank his son. "You don't spank him; you spank me!" I'd also tried to console him physically.

Wheeeeeeee! The life I was living!

I slept three hours more, perhaps, and then got up again. I remembered to change my pad for another tampon, and went and took a shower. Coming out of the bathroom afterwards, I could tell that everyone was up and downstairs: I heard them all talking.

I was momentarily scared of facing them, before I reminded myself I wouldn't be embarrassed or scared of facing someone again. I still postponed the encounters by dressing up for Sunday School and Church, ie. putting on an ordinary dress and good socks and black flats.

Finally I went downstairs. Pa and Peter were sitting in the living room, and I heard Ma in the kitchen talking on the phone.

"Ma's on the phone with Mrs. Winstead," said Peter. "They've been talking the last half hour, apparently about you. Apparently, you were just too much for Mr. and Mrs. Winstead."

"I couldn't get them to spank me properly," I said. Pa shifted in his armchair, and continued reading the newspaper. Peter coughed, or pretended a cough to suppress a response. I continued, "Not even when I offered them my bare bottom. You know how parents like to spank their children bare-bottom."

Pa emitted a loud angry noise -- sounding as if he were suppressing a curse, threw down his paper, got up and entered his office, slamming the door behind him. I felt a bit sorry for Pa, although I couldn't help gloating.

"That was cruel," said Ma, entering the room.

"But true," I answered.

"That's what makes it so cruel," said Peter.

"It kind-of defeats the purpose, when the child enjoys it, right?" I said.

"I know something happened Thursday evening, between you and Pa," said Ma. "Mrs. Winstead said that you bragged about your first sexual experience with Pa then, and suggested I call the police."

"No-no-no-no, don't do that!" I exclaimed in panic. Peter was punching his palms, alternating one after the other. "Pa really had no idea he was doing that, until he was in the middle of it. Then he stopped all too soon!"

"Don't worry; I'm not calling the police," said Ma, to my relief. Then she sighed. "But now, I have no idea what to do about you."

"How about letting God handle it," said Peter. I couldn't tell whether he spoke with a hint of sarcasm.

"That's probably the only thing we can do now," said Ma soberly. I felt all the guiltier, now. "Lean not on your own understanding, but trust God, and leave it to him. By the way." Ma disappeared into the kitchen, only to return with the tape recorder and start up the Mental Work. None of us complained. At least for me, there was something comforting and consoling about Great-Grandmother's voice.

Pa came out of the office during the Mental Work, and sat quietly in an armchair.

Afterwards, I offered to help Ma cook breakfast, and she accepted my help. We worked mostly in silence together, making waffles. Pa and Peter came in when breakfast was ready, and joined us.

We ate breakfast in silence. I suspected that both Ma and Pa were silently praying.

After breakfast, Ma drove me to Sunday School. As usual, the Sunday School teacher talked reams of convoluted logic, that I couldn't hope to refute, not even in my own mind, even though I knew it was nonsense. Thank goodness, the class eventually ended and we returned for the final hymn and the `Scientific Statement of Being'.

Of course, once Sunday School ended, we still had Church services, with a good half-hour wait between the two, during which Ma and Pa would arrive. Peter, of course, was barred from both Sunday Scnool and Church.

I sat in the auditorium, and tried to occupy my mind thinking about interresting things so contrary to Christian Science, such as the fun Fab, June, and I had yesterday, and the potential fun in the future. I'd gotten them to kiss each other, perhaps they might go so much further. It was nice having two boyfriends in love with each other as well as me.

I reminded myself that I had less than two weeks left as Lucy, if the change ended with the guest membership. If I wanted to enjoy them, I had to act fast.

I wondered what I'd tell the girls at Bikini Beach. Probably everything. They'd love it, and demand all the details.

Ma and Pa arrived, indicating that the service would begin shortly. Ma sat next to me, with Pa on her other side. Peter, of course, didn't come.

The first half was relatively interesting, with the first reader's own choice of Bible and Science and Health readings, and I always liked singing the hymns. The second half was where it got the most boring, reading the lesson-sermon that we had heard practically every day of the week. The subject was "Spirit".

I sat back against the hard wood of the bench, and closed my eyes. I began by hearing the second reader, in her rich voice, reading from the Bible, but I drifted to the events of the previous half-week. It occurred to me that I just might look back on all this with horror and mortification, when I returned as Luke. Or maybe I might continue my hijinks as Luke.

It also occurred to me that I only had two weeks left to go as far as I could as Lucy.

The service finally ended, and it was now time for Ma's socializing. I usually waited with Pa as Luke, and even did last week as well. I decided to wait with him anyway, next to the car, even though I suspected he might not want to wait with me. I couldn't think of anything to say, and as far as I could tell, neither could he.

Ma finally ended er socializing with the church ladies, and we left for home. Back home, I helped Ma with the last bit of Sunday Dinner, and then we sat to dine.

Again, we ate in silence. I think we were all very nervous with each other. I was thinking about Fab and June, and took the plunge and said, "After dinner, and after I help Ma cleaning up, I'm going to visit June for the afternoon. I may have supper there as well. I promise I'll be back before ten."

Ma appeared lost for words, and I suspected she wanted to say something like, "No."

Peter spoke before Ma could find her tongue. "I'll help clean up, too, with what little I know. I realize I haven't done enough." He paused. "Fab and June are nice boys, and I hope you realize that Lucy is growing up, and growing out of your control -- just as I have, Ma and Pa. It would have happened sooner or later, you know. Perhaps later if not for..." Peter blushed. "Whatever happened last week." Pa looked down and grimaced. Peter continued, "It should be clear that Lucy will be reasonable if you treat her well. If you're friendly with her."

Ma was apparently persuaded, because she agreed with my plan. I repeated to myself my promise to get back by ten, and planned to aim for 9:30.

As we promised, both Peter and I helped Ma clear the table when dinner ended, and scrape the dishes and such, and filled the dishwasher. Pa stayed and helped as well, boxing the leftovers. The job ended quickly enough that I decided to help with another chore.

Eventually, I got around to leaving for June. But before I left, I slipped upstairs and got a few things, including a couple spare tampons, a spare pad, and my little pack of condoms.

It was a nice walk to his house, about half the distance to the library and the mall.

The door opened to revealing the amazing and arousing sight of June wearing boxer shorts and nothing else, and Fab wearing boxer shorts and a thin white undershirt tank-top. "Lucy!" they both exclaimed, just as I jumped on them, and wrapped my arms and my legs about them both.

They both caught me and supported my bottom. While June's hand was over my dress, Fab had somehow slipped his hand under my dress and onto my panties to hold me up. "Mama, Baba, and Jing are here, you know," said June.

"So it's a good thing Mama's still in the kitchen, and Baba is downstairs watching the TV," said June's older sister, Jing.

The boys almost dropped me, but I managed to slide down and land on my feet. I remembered to remove my shoes. Only then did I notice what Jing was wearing: a long tank top, with panties peeking out at the bottom. I wondered what kind of family this was.

Fab might have read my mind. "That's how they routinely dress at home during the summer." I couldn't help giggling. "I was eleven when I first visited, after making friends with June. And I was shocked into a massive crush on Jing. I tried to hide it, but..."

Jing spoke as Fab trailed off. "It was so cute, so sweet," said Jing. "I was so sad to have to cut it off."

"Of course now, it's only you," said Fab. "You and June." He pulled both of us in and held us against him, arms around our shoulders.

June's family had a piano in the living room. I was reminded that, with everything that had occurred, I still had piano lessons the next day. "May I practice some piano?" I asked Mrs. Mao.

"Why, of course you may," she replied.

Unfortunately, I hadn't brought my music, so I had to make due what what I had memorized and what I remembered. When I began my stretching exercises, Jing asked, "Who's your piano teacher? Ms. Zzzzt?"

"No, mine is Mrs. Prudence," I answered. I didn't recognize the name Zzzzt.

"Oh, interesting. You're doing the stretches she taught me."

"Well, maybe all piano teachers do that."

"Maybe," she said.

I played through the current pieces I had memorized (even partly), followed by a few old ones still in my repertory, such as Mozart's "Rondo alla Turca" and Joplin's "The Easy Winners".

Everyone applauded, including the parents who had come down during my practice. I felt quite shy at their applause. Mr. Mao was wearing boxers, and resembled June too much for comfort. Mrs. Mao wore light pink pajamas covered with multicolored flowers.
        .
        .
        .
It was 9:15. "I really should head home now," I said.

"I'll walk with you," said Fab. "I have to go home as well, and it might not be very safe, walking at night."

"I'll go with you, too," added June. "One can't be too safe."

"That's so sweet of both of you. Let's go, then!"

"But first, let me get some clothes." June dashed upstairs.

"I'm afraid these are my clothes, the ones I came in," said Fab, as June dashed back down in a tee-shirt, long pants, and socks. As June put his shoes on at the door, Fab said, "I didn't even wear shoes."

"That shouldn't be a problem," said June. I wondered whether we should invite them in for a soda.

Once outside, we started off. Both boys were on either side of me, and I wrapped my arms around them and pulled them in close. Oooo, the goosebumps, the moisture, and the buzz. I began skipping, and they broadened their stride.

We were still a couple blocks from home, when Fab stammered, "Sorry, I have to stop for a moment." We all stopped, and he turned facing away from us. I looked up at his head, but I sensed him fumbling with himself lower down. He was moaning and grunting, almost screaming, through tightly closed lips. Looking down around his body, I saw his other hand aiming his dick, squirting stuff out over the grass. It looked silly, gross, and I couldn't keep my eyes off it. I couldn't help giggling.

Did I look that silly as Luke? At least I was in the privacy of my own room.

June said, "That bit of grass should appreciate the new dose of fertilizer, eh Fab?"

We all laughed. Fab said, "At least this should tide me over for a while. It would have been terrible if your parents saw me as I was before."

We continued on, and finally arrived at our house. We stopped at the porch, and I turned and gave them both a quick hug and kiss. "Good bye, guys!" I knew I had a very silly grin, but I couldn't help it, as I unlocked and opened the door.

Ma and Peter were waiting up for me. "Well," said Ma. "It's 9:45; you made it home with time to spare."

Peter, lying on the sofa reading, sat up. "I have to admit, I was a bit worried. It's all so easy to be determined to get home on time early, but then to be caught up in what one is doing and postponing your departure. I'm glad you gave yourself plenty of time, Lucy."

"I'm glad, too," I said. "I was scared I wouldn't come home in time."

"Now, how, Lucy," said Ma. "Remember, `There is no fear in Love, but perfect Love casteth out all fear.'"

Peter and I glanced at each other, and sighed. "Don't try to explain, Lucy. It's said, `When you're explaining, you're losing.'"

I'd never heard that proverb, but it made so much sense.

"Ma, I'm going to bed now. Good night."

"I'll head off to bed as well, when I reach a good stopping point in this book," added Peter, as I headed toward the stairs. "Oh, by the way." I stopped and turned. "Carol visited the afternoon."

I sat down hard on the stairs. "Oh, I'm so sorry I missed her."

"No problem. I was home, and I was quite happy to entertain her." Peter blushed as he said it. "She didn't seem to mind. I told her that you were with the boys, and she seemed happy for you."

I went to bed, and fantasized a little -- both about boys, and about Peter and Carol. Funny, I was fantasizing about the boys being together themselves than the boys with me; it was really strange. I never knew before that the idea of boys in love could be so hot and so romantic.

        Monday, August 11

I woke up the following morning in time to practice both my piano and my clarinet before breakfast. As usual over breakfast, we listened to the Mental Work. It occurred to me that perhaps my attraction to the boys and their own relationship, as well as the pleasure I took in being spanked, were products of Bikini Beach's transformation. Perhaps it was a case of mental malpractice.

Ma seemed rather reticent with me. Instead of stating that I was going to record this week's Lesson-Sermon with her, she hesitatingly asked me. I agreed. The subject this week was "Soul", one of the seven synonyms of God. I followed this with a half-hour of practice on the piano, and helping Ma with chores.

I changed into my ballet leotard, skirt, and tights, made sure I had everything I needed, and departed for piano lessons.

Despite everything that happened this past week, the piano lesson was almost routine -- Lucy's routine, that is, which was more pleasant and enjoyable than Luke's. Mrs. Prudence didn't say anything about my outfit, even though I was a bit embarrassed in it -- my vows notwithstanding. Then I recalled Mrs. Prudence's approval of "Lace" the previous week.

On the other hand, ballet class was no longer "routine". We were in solid rehearsal for the upcoming production less than two weeks away.

I was no longer surprised when the guys met me after ballet. My heart swelled upon seeing them: Becky and Tracy, Carol and Peter, and Fab and June! I couldn't help hugging both of them together. I noticed when I stepped back that they'd slipped an arm around each other -- and the arms stayed as I pulled away to ogle them up and down properly.

"You make an adorable threesome," said Tracy. The others responded with laughter and agreement. Feeling just a bit mischievous, I hugged Tracy and Becky together. Finally, still just for the mischief, I hugged Carol and Peter together -- and then pushed them hard together as I pulled away.

I returned to Fab and June, and had trouble deciding whom to walk next to on the way home. I chose Fab at random, wrapping my left arm around his waist, but reached across in front of Fab for June with my right hand, which he firmly took.

We started home. It was a bit of a twist going down the stairs, but we managed it. June and I, on either side of Fab, had to step sideways. But we made it, holding hard to each other.

I heard some whispering behind us as we left the mall. Just outside the mall, either Becky or Tracy took my right hand from June and held it. I looked around; it was Tracy, who was also holding Peter's hand behind me. On the other side, Becky was holding June and Carol's hand. So we walked home together in a circle.

We chatted and played together all afternoon at our house, and again, the guests all stayed for dinner. This time I decided it wouldn't be a good idea to wear anything too seductive. I changed into an ordinary dress right off the bat when I got home, so I didn't have to change again for dinner as well.

Unlike Friday evening, dinner went okay. Carol helped Ma to prepare dinner, and Pa joined us for dinner, still rather reserved in general, and about me in particular.

Again, I had an audience when I practiced both the piano and clarinet. It was a bit scary, and I kept reminding myself that nothing was going to embarrass me ever again. If I could get naked with a family of strangers, I could perform and blunder all I wanted in front of friends and family. I noticed even Pa watching and listening through the crack opening of the door to his office.

Of course, they all had to return home that evening.

As I said good bye to the boys, I apologized in advance. "I won't be able to see you tomorrow, guys. We're going to Bikini Beach." I gestured at Carol and the twins, and they nodded. The twins giggled softly. "We're gonna meet other friends as well. But don't worry. We won't forget you." I tried a lecherous or perverted grin. "We always gossip about our boys."

        Tuesday, August 12

Of course, today was Ma's Firmlove group meeting, and Mrs. Winstead was in that group. She was telling everyone how I got naked. She handed me the poker, and I stood up and raised it over my head to show everyone. I was naked.

I was in trouble now. Deep trouble. The eyes of everyone in the packed auditorium were upon me. Pa flipped me over his lap, and slammed my bottom over and over again. Every blow hurt so wonderfully, I couldn't help screaming, "Harder! Harder! Oh God, yes yes yes, harder!" Every blow sent a wonderful electric pulse up my entire body, and more I got, the more I wanted. I was electrically paralized, and the harder I tried to move, the better it felt. I screamd out one last, "My Gooooooood!" and realized I was sexually orgasming in front of an audience--

--and awoke amid my scream. I was still orgasming like crazy, jerking back and forth, up and down on my stomach and breasts. Eventually, I came to myself. I got up and went to the bathroom, wondering if anyone had heard me.

I tried to persuade myself of what I'd vowed -- I would enjoy what would normally embarrass me. Peter's room being next to mine, he was most likely to have heard me. If he did, he was probably masturbating over it. Ma and Pa's room was much farther away, and they were less likely to hear me. If they did, well... Let them be embarrassed - especially Pa. Better them than me.

I rinced my panties out and tossed them into the hamper, before putting on a clean pair. As Luke, I never realized how wet a girl could get down there. I returned to bed, as it was still early. Thinking about my nightmare -- the thought of Ma and Firmlove must have lurked in the back of my mind. I was sure tha Ma wouldn't take me to tonight's meeting.

On the other hand, Mrs. Winstead would probably tell Ma everything about Saturday night.

I must have fallen asleep on that optimist note. I woke up around seven, changed my sleepwear for a bathrobe, took a brief shower, and went downstairs. Breakfast wasn't ready yet, so I practiced the piano until Peter called me in for breakfast. I was feeling just a bit excited going commando under my bathrobe, although nobody would notice.

As usual, we listened to the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon that I'd helped record the previous day. Pa left for work, and I set out a swimsuit, a pair of short-shorts, a tank-top, and assorted other necessities for Bikini Beach.

I stayed in my bathrobe while I did some chores before leaving for Bikini Beach. Surprisingly, Peter stayed home and helped me with the chores.

We chatted about random things as we worked, and then Peter asked, "Are you going to Bikini Beach?" after about an hour of chores.

"Of course." I smiled at him. "It seems so long, as if so much has happened, since I last saw my girlfriends there."

"If you want, I'll drop you off at the bus station," he said.

"Oh, would you? That would be so nice of you!"

As soon as we finished what we were doing, I ran upstairs and put on my swimsuit, and my shorts over it. I slipped an anklet of plastic beads on my left ankle, slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops, and packed my shirt and everything else in my carrying case.

I dashed back downstairs and followed Peter to his car in the garage. Just before I closed the door behind me, I shouted out, "Ma! I'm leaving for Bikini Beach now!"

Ma replied from a distance, "Have fun, dear!"

I got into the front seat with Peter, and off we drove to the transit center. After Peter parked, I opened the car door. As an afterthought, before getting out, I leaned over and hugged Peter. "Thank you." I got out of the car, waved back at him, and made my way to the bus stop for Bikini Beach.

I didn't find Becky or Tracy, but I wasn't surprised in the least. It was later than usual, and they were both likely already at Bikini Beach having fun with the other girls. Still, a lot of girls were awaiting the bus, most dressed in bikinis under either shorts or tee-shirts.

The bus came as I arrived, and we all boarded. I was one of the last to board, so I wound up standing, holding one of the vertical bars. As a very rough estimate, I thought that about ten percent were boys and young men. It seemed to me that the boys came in four types. One type of boy sat or stood among the bikini-clad girls without a second thought -- experienced and by now "One of the Girls". Another type of boy was terrified. Perhaps terrified of the huge number of girls, or knowing what they were in for, or perhaps going to a girls-only park.

Then there was a third type: wide-eyed, shocked, and aroused at all the bikini-clad girls. A fourth macho type obviously viewed themselves as God's gift to girlhood. These were probably unaware that they would become girls themselves.

At Bikini Beach, I was one of the first off and in line for the turnstiles. In no time, I was sliding my card through the device, and off toward the girls' locker room.

I didn't see any of the girls. Disappointed, I removed my shorts, leaving my swimsuit on, and showered and went out into Bikini Beach. I decided to head to the Lagoon. At least, I'd get some nice swimming in if nothing else.

As I got in sight of the Lagoon, I spotted Vanessa and the twins swimming near the center. I burst into a run to meet them, but slowed to a fast walk at someone's stern shout, "No running!" I recognized Carol and Faline with them as I approached.

I ran into the water, diving forward and swimming to them. "Hey, guys!"

"Hey, Lucy!" Becky and Tracy both swam toward me, with Carol on their tail and Vanessa and Faline lagging behind. Tracy reached me first, and glommed onto me in a tight grip. I went underwater. Tracy let go, and I returned to the surface, coughing, sputtering, and gasping for air.

"... hug someone while swimming!" Faline was shouting. "It's dangerous!"

"We were afraid you couldn't come today," said Vanessa.

"I'm so sorry. I was being my usual ditzy self," said Tracy.

"I spent a little--" I began to explain, when water splashed my side. Whoever it was dove down, and I couldn't catch her. I began again, louder. "I was helping Ma with housework. Peter stayed and helped too." I glanced over at Carol, but didn't see a reaction other than her usual smile.

Xena and Jen were missing, but they had Cantonese classes this morning. They'd probably come around noon.

We gossiped as we swam and walked around.
        .
        .
        .
"What about Brandon?" asked Faline.

"It's nice being affectionate in a friendly and fun way," I said. "It's like with my brother now. Like all of you guys. It's a whole lot easier to play with him, now that my huge crush on him has gone. Wearing my ballet leotard and skirt to clarinet lessons, and seeing his reaction, was most fun."

"You think you could be fuckbuddies?"

"I wouldn't want to get either Peter or Brandon in trouble. Especially not Peter with Carol."
        .
        .
        .
Carol said, "Hey, Lucy. Would you and Peter like to come for dinner this week?"

"I'd love to." I tried to hide my nervousness at eating at someone's house. I was always nervous about a possible faux-pas.

"We've met her family," said Tracy. "They're quite nice."

"I had the uncomfortable impression," said Vanessa, "that they didn't really like me. Nancy and Cindy are very nice, of course."

"I'm very sorry," said Carol. "You are quite right. Even though they never said anything bad about you, they are uncomfortable with African-Americans."

"No problem. I encounter that often."

"You're tough," said Faline.

Vanessa began chuckling, clearly trying to suppress outright laughter.

"What's so funny?" asked Faline.

"Nothing, really. Well, I'm playing freshman football. When I mentioned it to Anya, she said I was tough. It wasn't just what she said, but rather the way she said it. I just can't explain it any more."

"Who's Anya?" I asked, to more laughter.

"You don't know who Anya is?" exclaimed Faline.

"Hey, give her a break," said Becky. "We've only been coming here for a week and a half." She turned to me. "Anya's the granddaughter of the owner here."

"The old lady we met that first day?" I chuckled to myself at the memory of my embarrassment that first day. I was such an innocent.

"The very same," said Becky.

"We call her `Grandmother' as well," said Vanessa. "Just about everyone does."

"Many of the workers here seem to call her, `Boss'," said Carol.

"Some people call her `Ma'am'," added Faline. "Polite, differential reference to Grandmother as an old woman."

"I've sensed that many of those who call Grandmother, `Ma'am', really dislike her," said Tracy. "Just the sense I get, from their tone, expression, or just when they're away from her."

"She was intimidating," I said, thinking back to that locker room encounter.

The talk eventually returned to dinner with Carol's family.

"Ooo, Peter!" "Heh, Peter." "Of course, Peter," came several teasing responses.

"Yes, I'm so in love with Peter." Carol stuck her tongue out.

"Of course, Carol's bound to get jealous if someone else kisses Peter -- even if it's his little sister."

"Especially if it's his little sister."

"I've figured the way to hug Peter without making Carol jealous: hug them both together." I giggled.
        .
        .
        .
Again, Aunt Yuko took me home from Bikini Beach that evening. I hugged her along with Becky and Tracy good-night, and skipped up the walkway to the door.

Ma was probably at her Firmlove meeting. Most likely, Ma was telling her group about me and my Friday and Saturday conduct. And Mrs. Winstead was telling them about me Saturday night. Both Pa and Ma had been treating me gingerly since, with Pa avoiding me most of the time.

Peter was reading a book in one of the armchairs. "Hey," he greeted me, as he inserted his marker, closed the book, and stood up. My heart fluttered as we hugged in greeting.

"Carol invited us to dinner with her family," I told him, still holding the embrace. "You and me, both."

Peter's face turned pink. "When?"

"She suggested Friday night, if that was okay with us."

"Friday's great for me," he replied. "We'll have to ask Ma and Pa but I'm sure they'll be okay with it."

I stood up on tiptoe and whispered, "We could go anyway." I snickered.

"I don't wish to go against their wishes except for something serious," he said. "And I'm scared of Pa coming out of his office and catching us like this."

"Oh." I giggled and squeezed him before letting go and pulling away.

"Like what?" came Pa's voice from behind.

I flipped around as Pa emerged from his office. "Like this." I hopped over and hugged him, quickly kissing his cheek. "Just a nice, friendly greeting." I backed away, giggling as Pa froze and blushed just like Peter that first time days earlier. Indicating my short-shorts and tank top, I added, "Oh, deary-dear-dear. I seem to have been totally naughty again. Should I go get a hairbrush?"

"Lucy!"

"A poker, perhaps?" I gestured at the fireplace. I whispered, "I'm not wearing panties. Maybe your belt would do best." My voice turned husky, as I imagined another round of serious stimulation, and felt my crotch moistening my shorts. I stepped toward him, reaching for his belt.

"No-no, none of that, please. No-no-NO!" barked Pa, backing away. I shortly had him nicely pinned against the wall. I dropped to my knees and began unbuckling his belt. A bulge was forming that I couldn't help focusing on.

I was so caught up in the heat of the moment, that I only became aware of the background noise as Peter's yelling when he picked me up bodily by my ankle and upper arm and unceremoniously dumped me shrieking on the sofa. I laughed and laughed, and laughed so much that tears came to my eyes.

"That--" I gasped. "That was fun! Hey, go to Bikini Beach with me, and throw me in the water like that!" I couldn't help laughing and giggling further.

"...my fault last Thursday." That was Pa. I'd apparently missed the first part.

"Yeah, your fault," I said. "Not hitting hard enough, and you stopped way too soon."

"Aunt Yuko drove you home this evening," Pa said. "That is completely different from your taking transit home and exposing yourself in full public view like that. Okay, I have to concede Peter's point. You are now beyond me."

"Hey, I wouldn't have met those wonderful boys last week." Their faces glowed in front as I said that. I took a deep breath. "Oh, by the way, Carol has invited me -- and Peter -- to dinner Friday evening."

"It's fine with--", began Pa. "Oh, wait. Mrs. Matsumoto called. She wants you to babysit Daisy again that evening. Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto are going out. I assumed it was okay with Lucy, and agreed. She wants Lucy for dinner as well."

I said, "Perhaps we could make it Thursday instead of Friday. I could go with Carol directly from Bikini Beach. Peter could come separately, and I'd return home with him."

The telephone rang. Pa went to the kitchen, to answer it. "Hello?"

I listened to Pa's side of the conversation.

"Yes, I'm their father. In fact, we were just talking about it just now."

I mouthed to Pa, "Thursday?"

"Would Thursday night be okay instead? Lucy has a babysitting job Friday evening. Sure. So Lucy will go with Carol directly from Bikini Beach? Oh, sure. If Peter doesn't know the way, I can give directions. Very fine." Pa spoke a little more, then said good-bye and hung up. "It's settled then."

"What is?" came Ma's voice. I hadn't noticed Ma entering, although once I thought back to it, I'd heard the garage door opening and closing. It hadn't registered with me.

"Peter and Lucy are having dinner at Carol's house, with her family, Thursday night."

Ma said, "Well, Lucy's been cooperative the past couple of days. But you wouldn't believe what Mrs. Winstead told about Lucy Saturday night. She told me personally, instead of telling the entire group."

Peter said, "Ma, please don't tell us. We're scarred enough as it is."

Ma glanced sharply at Peter, then at Pa, who nodded. "Her clothes?"

"We don't want to talk about that, either, Ma," said Peter. "Let's just leave it. And Pa's agreed, Lucy and I are having dinner with Carol's family Thursday night."

"Sure, sure, that's quite fine with me," said Ma.

        Thursday, August 14

I woke up so excited this morning. Today was not only Bikini-Beach day, but also Dinner-with-Carol day. I put on my one-piece suit and a pair of shorts, but also packed an outfit I would wear for Sunday School and Church Service: a dress, nice bra and panty set, socks, and black flat shoes. I really wanted to look good for dinner.

I took the bus to the transit center, and somewhat to my surprise, both Fab and June were already on, standing in the aisle. "Fab! June!" and "Lucy!" "Lucy!" all at the same time. I wrapped my arms up around both their waists, a bit difficult in the narrow bus aisle. We stayed holding each other until the bus arrive at the transit center. I giggled when Fab squeezed my butt, before returning his hand to my waist.

"I'm off to Bikini Beach," I told them as we disembarked. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing in particular. June has a TKD class in a couple hours. You're taking the bus? Mind if we join you?"

"Oh, wonderful!" I'd get at least another half-hour with them. "Hey, Tracy! Becky!" I waved at them, and they waved back and came to us. I quickly embraced them both. For come reason, I was going to say, "Bruce". Thank goodness, the spell kicked in.

"Hey, Lucy!" said Tracy.

"So June, Fab! Are you coming to Bikini Beach now?" asked Becky.

"Um, isn't Bikini Beach for girls only?" asked Fab. June looked puzzled as well. "We're just going to see Lucy off."

"And I wouldn't want either of you to be girls," I joked. We all laughed. Eventually, the bus was ready for boarding.

We arrived at Bikini Beach, and I hugged the boys as I got off. Becky and Tracy both hugged them as well, and I suppressed a tinge of jealously. Fab blushed a little.

I waved them good-bye as they stayed on the bus, and kept turning back to wave while I went with the girls to the line to the turnstile. Carol, Nancy, and Cindy joined us just after we went through the turnstile. "I think I saw your boys on the bus," said Carol.

"Yeah," I replied. "They very nicely came with us."

The day progressed nicely at Bikini Beach. I kept looking nervously forward to dinner with Carol.

We called home about an hour before time to leave. I was unsure whether Peter would be home, but if he wasn't I'd tell Ma to remind Peter of dinner. Peter was home, and he and Carol chatted for about half an hour. Finally, Carol hung up with a giddy smile.

When it was time to leave, I showered and changed into my nice dress. When I finished dressing, I saw that I was the only one dressed up nicely. No surprise, as the other girls were going home and could change there. Carol slipped her long t-shirt over her bikini, Nancy wore cut-offs and her bikini top, and Cindy wore shorts and a t-shirt.

We all got in Nancy's car, and she drove us to her home.

        Peter and Lucy at Dinner at Carol's

Carol and I were sitting in the back seat, as Nancy drove us to their house. We were chatting, and we arrived before we knew it. As we got out of the car, I couldn't help being nervous, despite my vow to be shameless and never embarrassed. I was scared of inadvertently offending our hosts somehow or other.

The three other girls kicked off their flip-flops at the door, as they entered. None wore socks, so they were all in bare feet. I removed my shoes, and then my socks, rolling them up and stuffing them in my shoes. It felt a bit sexy, wearing a knee-length dress in bare feet in a strange house.

"Mama! Baba! We're home!" called out Nancy.

Carol's father entered the room -- I noticed he was barefoot, which made me a little less uncomfortable. On the other hand, Mr. Hsu was just a bit too handsome. He's married, I reminded myself, and my dear friend's father.

"This is Lucy, my Bikini Beach friend," said Carol.

I nodded my head down for a moment, then reached out to shake his hands, looking up straight in his eyes. "I'm pleased to meet you," I said.

"Welcome, Lucy. You are very pretty," he said, shaking my hand.

"Nah, just ordinary," I answered, blushing.

During the exchange, the three girls had vanished, leaving me alone with Mr. Hsu. Feeling a bit uncomfortable, and looking around, I said, "Your house is very nice." A few seconds later, I said, "Peter's a great big brother. He has a blue belt in Taekwondo, and graduated a year early from high school."

"Good for him. How did he manage that?"

Lucy thought back to Peter's summer work for him as Luke, and remembered that Peter had done that himself three or four summers earlier. "One summer, he studied a math class on his own. He tested out of it, and placed into the following class at school. Later, he took a couple of summer classes, and earned enough credits to graduate his junior year. He begins this fall at Pacific Instititute of Technology."

"My congratulations to him. I recall that the average age of freshmen there is about 17.5, so this isn't so unusual."

I heard a car drive up. "That may be Peter."

Carol dashed downstairs, and I joined her as she reached the door. The doorbell rang, and she pulled her t-shirt collar in nervousness as I peeked through the hole, saw Peter, and opened the door.

"Hi Peter," Carol and I said simultaneously, then giggled. I backed away as Carol opened the door wide. "Come on in." She took his hand and led him in.

"Hey, everyone, this is Lucy's brother--" began Carol.

"Peter?" asked Nancy who had appeared along with Cindy. "Is that you?"

"Nancy? You're Carol's sister?" Peter was blushing. "And you recognize me?"

"Of course I recognize you." She turned to us, "We were together in a couple classes, and band." Turning back to Peter, she said, "Your crush on me was rather... obvious."

"Dinner time!" called out Carol's mom from the dining room. I saw the look of relief on Peter's face.

Carol introduced us to her mom, and we sat down to a wonderful feast, rather different from the food we typically ate at Chinese restaurants.

"As I was saying, Peter, you were too scared to do anything about your crush on me," said Nancy.

Peter blushed again. "I had crushes on half the girls at Westside High."

"Let's see," said Nancy. "There were Suzy Mantee, Lily Zhang, Kayla Serizawa, Jill Denison, Susan Niblo, to name just a few. He was just too scared, and had no idea how to go about meeting them, talking to them, asking them out. When he did talk to girls -- me, for example -- he spoke just like an ordinary friend."

That didn't improve Peter's color in the least. "Peter, scared?" I asked. "But you have a blue belt in Taekwondo!"

"Taekwondo has nothing to do with knowing how go up and talk to a girl you're attracted to," huffed Peter. "Anyway, Nancy stuck like glue to a boy for -- I dunno -- a year and a half? She was very much taken."

"I met Curt many times," said Carol. "He's a very nice guy. But Peter, you really shouldn't have said anything in front of Mom and Dad."

"I believe that the appropriate word is `BUS-TED!'" said Mr. Hsu. Peter was now sitting frozen in his chair, the picture of guilt. "Come-come now, Peter, don't look so down. I've known about Curt for a long time -- and Mama has too."

I looked over at their mom. Her arms criss-crossed her bosom, and she sported her own BUSTED expression.

Mr. Hsu continued, "I think it was a mistake declaring the rule that one couldn't date or have boyfriends until college. I'd forgotten my own history as a high-school student, and sneaking around with the girls. I already decided long ago that I wouldn't do or say anything about it as long as Nancy kept up her school work."

I looked over at Mrs. Hsu, and she was nodding agreement.

"I'm very curious, though," said Carol. "I haven't seen you with Curt since school ended. You haven't broken up, have you?"

"No, they're still very much together," said Mr. Hsu. "In fact, they've stuck together like glue, as Peter so aptly put it, all summer. In fact SHE--" Mr. Hsu looked over at Cindy, who'd remained still throughout this exchange. "--has practically moved in." Cindy covered her face, her fiery blush peeking between her fingers. Nancy was blushing as well, and Mrs. Hsu's arms were crossed again with That Look.

"Yes," said Mr. Hsu. "Bikini Beach changed Curt to Cindy for the summer."

Cindy spoke through her hands, apparently holding back tears. "It's one thing to become a girl, embarrassing enough at first, but one gets used to it. Getting caught at it, that's a whole nother thing."

Nancy put her arm around Cindy, pulling Cindy against her. Glancing around, I saw expressions of embarrassment, triumph, utter surprise and disbelief, frowning skepticism -- that was Peter there, and he asked, "What's this about changing boys to girls? That doesn't happen in real life; one would more likely scramble the body into something unrecognizable -- and dead."

"Bikini Beach does that, Peter," said Nancy.

"It gets worse," added Mr. Hsu. "Bikini Beach is supposed to make everyone think that he was always the girl from the start. I've wondered off and on why we still remember Curt."

"This is all so strange!" said Cindy. "I always thought it was that way. I had no idea you or anyone remembered Cindy -- I mean Cindy. Oh, poof, I forgot I can't say `Cindy'."

Mr. Hsu chuckled. "That's Bikini Beach for you."

That aspect of Bikini Beach -- being unable to say my male name -- was all too familiar to me, having inadvertently tried to say "Luke" several times and having it come out as "Lucy." Fortunately, it always made sense and it was the correct name... so far.

"Anyways, Baba," asked Cindy. "How did you know who I was?"

"We'll just keep that our little secret. Right Mama?" said Mr. Hsu.

"Absolutely," she replied.

"I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone," Peter said. "Something's gone haywire, and nobody notices anything's wrong. Lucy, do you know anything about this?" asked Peter.

"For all you know, I might be your kid si(s)-bling Lucy-fer." Boy, that sounded weird, but at least I avoided saying `sister' and 'Lucy'.

"Very funny," said Peter.

Carol put her hand on Peter's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Peter. I didn't mean for my family to disturb you so. Honestly, I knew nothing about this. My entire family knew, and never told me!" I saw Peter about to put his arm around Carol, but then glance at Mr. and Mrs. Hsu. Instead, he slipped his hand down under the table. I saw Carol shifting to hold his hand.

"One has to be very careful talking about Bikini Beach and its transformations," said Mr. Hsu. "One might either find himself declared insane, get into major arguments, or just disturb someone unaware of them, like Peter."

"Carol too," I added. "Your own daughter, Mr. Hsu."

Mr. Hsu looked guilty. "I'm sorry about this, Carol."

Later, I had to go to the bathroom, and Carol followed me. As I washed my hands, she asked, "Are you really a boy named Lucifer?"

"Lucifer? Really?" I kept my voice down to a whisper. "I'm like Cindy: I can't say it. But think `Skywalker'."

"As in Anakin?"

"No-no-no-no!" I rolled my eyes, threw my fists up, and looked up in frustration.

"Oh right. Luke. That's your name?"

I couldn't help giggling; it sounded so strange now.

"Oh-my-God!" she exclaimed. "No wonder we never got a straight answer from you -- or Becky! -- about having refused to visit Bikini Beach before you finally came. I take it Becky's also a guy?"

"Becky -- I mean Becky." I sighed. "I can't say that either. But she's not Brandon ... Lee." Brandon Oregon was the first BR name I thought of, and then I remembered the father and son martial arts actors Bruce and Brandon Lee. "This is like a game of -- whats-its-name?"

"Charades. Brandon Lee," said Carol softly. "Brandon Lee, Brandon Lee. Wasn't he accidentally killed filming a movie?"

"Oh God, yes," I answered, distressed at the reminder. I had to go on. "His famous father also died young. I wish I hadn't used them as clues."

"Oh, that's okay," said Carol. "I guess you're trying to tell me that Becky is really a boy named Bruce."

"Mmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm!" I hummed a G-C-E-G-E sequence.

"Meaning?"

"Like Cindy ... I don't want to talk gibberish. Or say `no' when I mean `yes'."

As we returned to the table, Mr. Hsu was saying, "...a potential boyfriend of Carol's." Peter was blushing, and Carol stopped suddenly, before slithering to her chair. This was indeed an embarrassing turn of the conversation; admittedly the topic wasn't exactly unpredictable.

Her father continued, "If it's not clear already, I'm removing the prohibition of having boyfriends until college, as long as you keep up with your schoolwork and education."

Peter straightened up. "I'm going off to college in a month, Pacific Tech. It wouldn't be good to bind Carol like that to a long-distance relationship. Especially at fourteen."

Mr. Hsu said, "We can wait and see how things turn out. I'm happy that she was willing to introduce us to you. It would really have been nice to meet Nancy's friend Curt. If Cindy's anything to go by, Curt's quite a nice guy."

"He is, definitely," said Carol.

The talk drifted off to random topics, such as Peter's potential major at Pacific Tech. Eventually, we called it a night.

Carol walked with us as we left. Peter said, "Would it be okay if I joined you at Bikini Beach on Saturday? I want to see what this is all about." His voice trembled.

"What a splendid idea!" said Carol.

"And I'll drive you, so you don't have to take the bus," he said to me.

"Tomorrow's Saturday, so Aunt Yuko was going to take us. But I'm happy to go with you instead," I said. "How about you, Carol?"

She smiled. "Nancy would normally drive us, but I'd love to go with you and Peter."

We said our good-byes, and Peter reached out to shake Carol's hand. Carol shook it, and then embraced Peter. When they pulled apart, Peter's bright red face had a giddy smile.

Carol then hugged me good-bye; we were now the Bikini Beach friends.

I sat in the passenger seat on the way home, where we could talk easily. "That was a most interesting... experience," said Peer.

"Carol really likes you," I said.

"I... like her too," Peter stumbled over his words.

He drove us home.

        Friday, August 15

Friday was a little different from normal. Peter's trying out Bikini Beach on Saturday preoccupied my mind. I wore my leotard and skirt, for the benefit of Fab, June, and Brandon. Ballet rehearsal was over twice as long, with the class following us coming at the same time. (A few showed up late, because they had other activities that first hour.) We were rehearsing for the performances to begin the following Friday evening.

In fact, we would rehearse twice the following week on the stage where we were going to perform.

Peter was scared, half the time skeptical of transformation but scared of a girls-only waterpark, half the time scared of changing.

That evening, both Peter and I had dinner with the Matsumotos. Peter left after dinner, and again, Mrs. Matsumoto -- Ellen -- asked me and Daisy to help her dress up for the night. All I can really say was that she dressed up really naughty.

Again, once she went to bed, I sat on the floor and read until I dropped off.

        Saturday, August 16

I woke up early, excited even more than usual about seeing the guys at Bikini-Beach. Something special was happening today, but I couldn't recall for the life of me what it was. Not until I remembered that my big brother was going to join me at Bikini Beach! I was not only excited, but really anxious as well.

It took me a minute to realize that I was on the floor in Daisy's bedroom. Thank goodness, she didn't have her nightmare -- or so I thought. Daisy told me otherwise. "I had my nightmare again. It was different this time." Daisy seemed a lot calmer now, and she didn't wake me up.

"Oh, how?"

"It started out the same, but then I realized that she was alive and I was going to see her again. Lucy?" she sounded worried now. "Do you think the nightmare might be being mean? Making me falsely hope? Or might the nightmare be going away, or giving me something good?"

I couldn't say. I just hugged her, and lifted her up.

Again, Ellen cooked breakfast for us. We were actually up before Mr. Matsumoto. I asked her how the party went.

"Oh, we had a wonderful time," she answered. "I'm sorry, but I can't go into any detail."

No, I wasn't going to be embarrassed or humiliated, that I might have been rude. "That's okay."

Mr. Matsumoto came down in his boxers, and paid me, wonderfully as usual, and I returned home to get ready for Bikini Beach.

Ma and Pa were eating, and listening to the Mental Work, so I joined them in listening. Once the Mental Work was over, I told them that I'd already eaten at the Matsumoto's. I used this break between the Mental Work and the Lesson to call Aunt Yuko. One of the twins answered the phone, and I said that Peter was going to take me to Bikini Beach.

"Oh-my-gosh! Yippee!" she shrieked. "Boys go to Bikini Beach, but I never get to see them inside. I'll finally get to see what happens to them!" Ahah, that twin was Tracy.

After the Lesson-Sermon, I went upstairs, and caught Peter leaving the bathroom. "Hey, Peter!" He was only in boxers. Normally, this would have been nothing, but things had changed the past week. I gave him a quick hug, then backed away with my hands on his waist and looked him up and down, taking in his muscular arms, six-pack stomach, muscular chest, and strong thighs.

"You aren't perving on me, by any chance, are you?" asked Peter as he turned aside and lowered his arm, futily attempting to block his frontal bulge from view.

"Um... yeah... But that's Carol's prerogative," I quickly added. "If she could see you like this..." I snickered at his blush and his growing front, that he lowered his arm in vain to hide. "Anyways, I have other hunks to perve on, such as Fab and June."

"And your clarinet teacher as well."

It was his turn to snicker at my sudden coughing fit. "I suppose I really was that transparent."

"Yes, you were."

"It would be wonderful to seduce him." I laughed at his bulging eyes and other growing bulge. "At least with Fab and June, he's safe from me. I hope Ma and Pa realize that they really don't want to keep me away from the boys, for Ma and Pa's own good. Need I say it, Pa's a hunk, too -- and a whoppin' good spanker." I turned my smile gleefully lecherous.

I continued on to my bedroom, and removed yesterday's clothes. Putting on a bathrobe, I returned downstairs. I was heading toward the piano, when Pa accosted me from the kitchen. "A `whoppin' good spanker' eh?"

"Absolutely! And a gorgeous hunk as well. Isn't he, Ma?" I upped the volume.

"Absolutely!" answered Ma. "You'd darn well better remember that we both take our vows seriously."

"Better make sure that Fab and June both remain are available for me, then! Oh, that reminds me." I went to the phone and called Carol.

"Hi Carol. I'm calling to check, do you still want Peter to come pick you up for Bikini Beach?"

"Oh yes, indeed. Nancy and Cindy want to come as well. They're curious what kind of girl Peter will become." She laughed. "This is all still so really strange." I laughed with her.

Abandoning my piano-practice notion, I returned to my bedroom and packed everything I thought I might need, including clothes and my clarinet kit for band practice this afternoon. I didn't think I'd need Klose, but I brought it just in case. I also put on my swimsuit. I decided I didn't need to wear anything else besides flip-flops for now.

I got in the front seat with Peter, and we drove to Carol's house. Once we arrived, we walked up together and rang the bell.

Carol promptly answered the door. She was apparently all ready for Bikini Beach, in jeans and t-shirt. Upon greeting us with hugs, she said, "Nancy and Cindy will be down shortly." And they did shortly appear, both of them in jeans and t-shirt as well. I wondered if the girls wanted to avoid shocking Peter.

Peter drove us to Bikini Beach. This time, Carol sat in front with him, and I sat in back with the two older girls.

"You don't mind if we go on in, guys?" asked Nancy, as Peter parked the car and we got out.

"Sure, go ahead," answered Carol. "Lucy and I'll stay with Peter. He needs the support. Seeya."

Peter indeed did look like he needed the support. Carol put her hand on his shoulder. I think he felt seriously out of place, going to a girls' waterpark and being surrounded by girls. He visibly relaxed upon seeing another boy around his age in the line.

When we eventually reached the booths, I decided I had to do the job. "My big brother would like a guest membership for Bikini Beach," I told the saleslady.

"We do have a few guest spots," she said, typing into her computer. "We have a special, three weeks for the price of three single-day memberships."

"Peter?" I asked.

Hesitating a moment, he said, "Okay, I'll take it." His voice shook. He got out his credit card and the saleslady swiped it for the fee, handing him the membership card and a sheet for his signature.

"Shower when you change; it's a Bikini Beach health requirement."

"Thank you," said Peter.

As we left the sales counter, I told him, "The shower does the deed, as I understand it." All three of us stopped at the small men's changing room. "You okay, Peter?" Carol put her hand on his shoulder.

"Yah, I'll be okay." He opened the door and entered. We went onto the women's locker room.

"Hey, Tracy! Becky!" Carol called out, having spotted them with Aunt Yuko. All three were in their bikinis, and we ran over and hugged them in greeting.

"Have a great day, girls, and I'll see you for lunch," said Aunt Yuko.

"Guess what!" I said. "My brother Peter came with us! We're going to meet him after he changes. Care to join us?"

"Yeh, yeh! I wanna see him!" exclaimed Tracy.

"Me too. I'm quite curious," said Becky.

"Why don't you go now," said Carol. "I still have to change." The older girls were already changing.

I was already in my swimsuit. "I have to shower." Becky and Tracy joined me.

"Does he know what's gonna happen?" asked Becky. "Or is he in for a surprise?"

"Yes to both. He knows, yet no way he won't be surprised."

"What will happen? Do you know?" asked Tracy.

"Of course," answered Becky. "He'll turn into a girl."

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.