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.
        .
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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.
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        .
"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."
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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.

Ruth and Lucy's ballet rehearsals dominate the week. Thursday evening is their dress rehearsal, and they perform Friday and Saturday evening and Sunday afternoon.

Lucy and Ruth continue to visit Bikini Beach. A photo-shoot takes place Friday morning.

        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 will need huge revision, if I ever get around to it.

        Monday, August 18

"Do you think they'll lure Beth to Bikini Beach, or take direct action instead?" asked Ruth, more to herself than me.

I didn't attempt to answer that question, because I couldn't say. "It seems easier to change a sick girl to a healthy girl than to transform a boy to a girl. I'm going to practice the piano now." I returned to the living room and practiced for about half an hour.

Ma had Breakfast ready by the time I finished, and started the Mental Work. After breakfast, somewhat to my surprise, Ma asked Ruth to join her in recording this week's Lesson-Sermon, reading the Bible section. After this was finished, I went upstairs to change into my ballet leotard and skirt, and gather everything together for piano lesson and ballet rehearsal.

I walked to my piano lesson. Following the lesson, I walked to ballet rehearsal. Fortunately, I remembered that today's two-hour rehearsal would be in the Civic Center. Our first performance was going to be this Friday, and we were going to have a second rehearsal. I got there early, and Ma dropped Ruth off just after I arrived. We agreed that Ruth and I would walk home -- Ruth was quite insistent, and I liked the walk home.

The two-hour rehearsal seemed awfully long today. But it eventually ended, with me all sweaty and thirsty. I drank plenty of water, and they provided Gatorade as well. I finally stripped down and took a shower there, then realized that I hadn't brought anything to wear. I cringed as I put my leotard back on. The skirt was okay, though. I didn't wear the tights again, and I had ordinary sneakers to wear.

Ruth was wiser. She was now in shorts and t-shirt. I don't think I ever saw Peter in shorts nearly as short, proportionally speaking, but Ruth didn't seem to have a problem.

Just more to wonder about. Not really. She'd had no problem with a girl's swimsuit Saturday, or ballet leotard today. Was she all Ruth now? Did she lose Peter? Was Peter gone?

"Hey Lucy! Ruth!" came a familiar voice. Carol!

"There she is," said Ruth, as she grabbed my hand and led me toward her. Ruth got to hug her first and held her tight for a good long time. I decided not to wait, but to grab both of them in an embrace. I loved them both.

"Hey, we're walking home. Wanna join us?" Ruth asked Carol.

"Yeah! I was hoping we would." Ruth grabbed both of our hands, and we started off. Carol continued, "I went to your ballet place in the mall, and saw the notice that your rehearsal was here. We all -- my sister, her friend, and I -- are going to see one of your shows this weekend."

We were within a few blocks of the mall when Ruth said, "My credit card got reality-shifted out of existence. Your tampons and condoms probably have as well. You might want to get some more."

Carol looked strangely at Ruth just for a moment, as I giggled. "You're right," I replied. "They were gone when I took my Pill yesterday and this morning." I was about to agree that I should get mine again, when I realized that most of my pay from babysitting Daisy had also been reality-shifted away. Daisy always slept over whenever Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto went out -- except that time a week and a half ago when I ran to their house after Pa thrashed me. In this reality, Ruth had joined us at Daisy's. "I really don't need them. My period ended late last week, and June and Fab have forgotten me." I cried again, but softly, at the loss. Carol and Ruth both hugged me, and I stood with my head against Carol's breasts for a long time.

We started walking again. We remained silent, preoccupied with our own thoughts -- at least I was. Then Ruth spoke up. "You won't remember this, but I once said that it would be uncool to hit on my kid brother's girlfriend."

"What kind of big brother would do a thing like that," asked Carol.

"It would be tempting -- really, truly tempting -- if the kid brother's girlfriend were you," Ruth replied, as she leaned hard against Carol.

"That's very flattering, but it's also very peculiar. I take it that's Peter speaking. And somehow or other, you're talking about me as Luke's girlfriend?"

"Yeah," said Ruth, now sounding guilty or embarrassed.

"I may have met Luke once," said Carol. "I met Lucy in the library, the week before she first came to Bikini Beach, when she checked out that sexy novel."

Ruth giggled. After recovering from an impulsive snort, I asked, "Who has the book now? I think it was due last Wednesday."

"Last I heard, Jen and Xena have it. I think that Vanessa returned the book, and checked it out under her own name."

"Oh, good." At least I hadn't lost it. I never received any notice of the overdue book, and now I knew why.

"What was its name?" asked Ruth.

"Lace, by Shirley Conrad," answered Carol, as my mind froze.

"That's not the only sexy book you've read, eh, Luke?" Ruth said to me with a grin.

No, no, no, I reminded myself. I wasn't going to be embarrassed. I was going to enjoy everything. "No, of course not." I tossed her a cocky grin. "Let's see, books by Nancy Friday." I named a couple, and a few others as well.

"I'm interested." Carol's voice turned a tide husky. "Should we stop at the library?"

"I really have to get out of this icky-sticky leotard," I responded. "And shower again. And I don't really want to come home for supper, and have Pa catch me in this short skirt."

Ruth looked my legs up and down with -- was that a lecherous expression? "So you're not going to seduce Pa again?" she asked.

"Nope," I answered. "Not this time. You aren't big enough and strong enough to pick me up and dump me on the sofa. I was hoping you could do that at Bikini Beach."

"Huh?" asked Carol.

"I was expecting a strong, muscled, and very hot and sexy bikini-clad babe, totally fit from Taekwondo," I answered, not mentioning how the notion of my big brother Peter as a sexy bikini-clad babe had nauseated me just a bit.

"I admit, I was expecting someone of the sort as well," said Carol. "Hot and sexy in a different way from Peter, but still hot and sexy. Someone I could still very much go for. I'm sorry, Ruth, I can't see you like I saw Peter."

"That's okay." Ruth hugged Carol. "I'll simply observe you from afar, enjoy my unattainable crush, and look forward to returning as Peter." Carol lifted her up as she continued, "Meanwhile, I'll enjoy to the utmost having fun as a little girl."

When we got home, I let Carol take the first shower, as she said she was feeling a bit hot and sweaty. I didn't feel like sitting the sofa or any of the chairs in my still sweaty leotard, so I sat on the floor and relaxed into a middle split. I occasionally stretched my torso to either side.

The doorbell rang. Ruth jumped up to answer the door. "It's Daisy!" I heard the excited greetings, and returned shortly with Daisy in tow.

"Hi, Daisy!" I pulled my legs in and rose up on my knees to hug her. "Sorry, my leotard's still grimy from rehearsal and walking home."

Carol came down shortly afterwards, wearing -- surprise! -- a lovely dress!

"Wow!" exclaimed Ruth. "I don't think I've ever seen you in a dress before!"

"I'm sure I haven't," I said. I couldn't help looking her up and down.

Ruth did the introductions. Meanwhile, I went upstairs to shower and change. Change clothes, that is. Not gender or body. I put on a simple dress, with socks and flats -- and white bra and panties of course.

The living room was absent when I returned downstairs. "They're down in the playroom," Ma said.

"Thanks, Ma." I promptly went downstairs to join them.

"Oooo, you're lovely!" exclaimed Carol.

We spent the rest of the afternoon mostly chatting. At one point Daisy asked when I would be Luke again. She winced as Carol shrieked, "Am I the only one here who doesn't remember Luke?"

Daisy started crying at the rebuke, and I went to hug her to myself. Ruth turned her head, looking at both Daisy and Carol, then went to hug Carol.

"Oh, Daisy, I'm so sorry!" said Carol, almost in tears herself. We came together in a group hug.

Once we came apart again, I said, "If this helps, I'm the only one here who can't say `Lucy'." I sighed an exaggerated vocal sigh.

Daisy giggled. "If she says she can't say `Luke' she lies." We all laughed at that.

I answered Daisy's question. "By the way, Daisy, I become, um, I revert Saturday night, if I recall correctly."

Daisy and Carol stayed for dinner. Following dinner, Ruth and I had an extra-long rehearsal where we first put on our costumes. Half the rehearsal consisted of us learning not only how to don our costumes, but also how to help each other with costumes, hair, and make-up. Then we went through sections of the ballet, accompanied by music and the voice narration. It was an abbreviated version of "The Sleeping Beauty" by Tchaikovsky. The sections were interspersed with costume and make-up changes. The changes needed to be done quick.

Unfortunately tempers were flaring as well. Fortunately, I was fairly good at helping others with their hair and make-up, which wasn't too surprising because I'd been doing it for several years.

We went at least an hour overtime that evening, and I was quite sleepy when Ma picked us up and drove us home. Ruth and I promptly went to bed as soon as we got home.

        Tuesday, August 19

After the usual Mental Work and Lesson-Sermon, Ruth and I took the bus to Bikini Beach. We met Tracy and Becky at the transit station, and Carol ran up to us and joined us in line for the turnstile, bubbling in excitement just like Becky and Tracy.

"Girls! Nancy and Cindy were invited to a photo-shoot this Friday morning, and a friend was invited too! They want me to join. We could all join. They're giving away free weekend passes!"

"Friday?" I asked. "My pass ends Saturday. I think we should all come Friday. Would they welcome us?"

"I'm sure they would," answered Carol.

Tracy excitedly said, "Oh my God, it's them!"

"Who?" asked Becky.

"The hunks! Over there!" She pointed at front of the line for the guest-pass booths.

"Those boys waiting at the front?" asked Carol. A couple of older boys were at this moment walking up to a window, and now talking to the saleslady. I couldn't make out anything, but Tracy was bubbly-hyper.

Before I knew it, she was running along the line toward the turnstile. One of the Bikini Beach staff members out in the lines ran and caught up to her, and rebuked her. I couldn't hear what the staff member said, but Tracy turned and grumpily walked back toward us.

A little ways away, Tracy grumbled something. I think I heard it, but it made no sense. Becky must have seen my expression, because she said, "Damn cunt-blocker."

"Huh?"

"That's what Tracy said," said Becky.

"I still don't get it."

"It means that Bikini Beach worker's blocking Tracy's cunt from the two hunks."

I said nothing further, although I watched the two boys, obvious brothers, walking steadily toward the Men's room. I saw Tracy's face grow longer as well. She sighed as they entered the changing room. "Now I'll never find them."

Meanwhile, our line of women and girls (and, I noticed, an occasional man or boy) who already had their memberships went steadily toward our own turnstile, and finally pushed through.

Ruth had worn her swimsuit with shorts over, so she quickly showered and ran off to join friends, whom she'd apparently befriended before ever becoming Ruth. I was reminded that Peter had been Ruth before, and I was going to ask her about it some time.

Vanessa, Jen, and Xena joined us later. We had a nice morning at Bikini Beach. Faline never showed up. Vanessa said, "I think that she's still angry at us from Saturday. I hope that we'll see her again." We all hoped.

We also discussed coming on Friday, as Saturday would be the last day of some of our memberships. This led to discussing our various memberships and when they would end.

"Lucy and I got three-week passes, uh, two and a half weeks ago Saturday," said Becky with a titter. "So ours end this Saturday. It's still good for the day then, at least."

"Mine also ends Saturday," said Carol. "A summer membership ending the weekend before school begins."

"My membership's for life," said Tracy. "Becky, you might want to get one yourself."

"No thanks." Becky shuddered. "Femininity is fine and all that, but not forever."

Vanessa entered, rather quickly I thought. "I got a two-month membership on July 17. It's supposed to end September 17."

"I thought that Mom got both of us five-year memberships," said Jen, referring to Xena as well. "The same day as you two." She indicated Becky and me. "But really, it's different and confusing. I have to check my card every time I think of it."

Jen began rummaging through her purse when Xena said, "It's like this. Both passes expire June 16th, just after we finish ninth grade. That's one year and ten months."

"Wait a minute!" said Tracy. "Your mom purchased five-year passes, but you got less than two years?"

"That's not all!" said Jen quickly.

"No, there's more," continued Xena. "We get four years and 310 days more, afterwards, that we can divide up into guest memberships of any length. Grandmother offered us that, and we agreed to it, because now we get six years of membership total."

"That's really strange," said Tracy. "I can't see why Grandmother would offer something like that."

"Mom doesn't know about it, I don't think," said Jen.

"Stranger still," said Vanessa. "You were born before Xena the Warrior Queen was shown on TV, right?"

"Yeah," said Xena.

"Things are beginning to make a certain amount of sense," said Vanessa. "Both of you are thirteen, right?"

"Yes," answered Jen.

"So you would have been eighteen when the five-year membership expired. Hmmm..."

Carol intervened, rather quickly it seemed. "It is a mistake to theorize before one has all the facts. It leads to twisting the facts to fit the theory, rather than theory to fit the facts."

"You're right," said Vanessa. "And we definitely don't want another horrible argument like last Saturday's."

"After all," said Becky. "Xena might have been merely a rare name before the Warrior Queen."

"We'll still do things together, won't we? I mean, after your memberships expire?" asked Jen, brushing a couple tears aside.

"Of course." Vanessa hugged Jen. "We'll find various things to do together. Best friends forever, right everyone?"

"Right!" we all said. That led to another group hug moment.

"Faline, too?" asked Tracy.

"We hope," I replied, and everyone agreed.

"My friend and my sister have both been invited to a photoshoot here Friday morning," said Carol. "They've invited me as well. I think we should all join the photoshoot."

"Great idea!" everyone agreed. "Let's crash the photoshoot!" said Xena.

"Let's spend Friday here as well," said Jen. "We'll get to see more of you before your passes end." She looked at each of the three of us.

Everyone agreed to that, although I had my own issue. "I can come in the morning, but then I have clarinet lesson after lunch. And our first ballet performance is that night. I'll want to rest in the afternoon."

"Ballet performance?" asked Xena.

"They're performing Friday and Saturday night," said Carol, "and Sunday afternoon. I'm going to watch one, at least."

"We have a major rehearsal tonight, so Ruth and I have to go home earlier this afternoon. And our dress rehearsal is Thursday night." I didn't mention another major rehearsal the next day, Wednesday afternoon, nor the Wednesday Evening Meeting.

We had a nice and fun morning here at Bikini Beach. After lunch I decided to play a little with Ruth for an hour or so, and then we returned home after I made sure to say goodbye to my friends (and that she said goodbye to her friends). Faline apparently never showed up.

Ma accosted us as soon as we got home. "You're home early," she said.

"Ma," I said, "we need to rest some before tonight's rehearsal."

"Great idea," Ma replied. "The owner of Bikini Beach called this morning, and she said that you--" She indicated Ruth. "-- have to be at Bikini Beach by eight in the morning. She said something about a photoshoot, but that you were essential for it."

"I heard about the photoshoot," I said. "We'll definitely be there, won't we, Ruth." I wasn't going to admit my surprise about Ruth being not only involved but -- essential?

"I'll drive you there myself," said Ma.

We did relax that afternoon. Ruth joined me in bed, and we both slept until almost dinner time.

After dinner, we had another intense rehearsal, very much like Monday's. Both Ruth and I went promptly to bed when we got home afterwards.

        Wednesday, August 20

Ruth and I stayed home that morning. Daisy came over to play with us. She was feeling boisterous, while Ruth and I both wanted to relax. However, Ruth decided to join Daisy's boisterousness, and they both went out to play with neighborhood children.

We went to the Civic Center for another lengthy ballet rehearsal after lunch. It was more of the same. Things were definitely coming together, though. We weren't going to have a rehearsal tonight. Tomorrow, Thursday night, was the dress rehearsal, and the first performance would be Friday evening.

The idea was to relax tonight. But for Ruth and me, there was no rest for the weary. Only during the afternoon. We had the Wednesday Evening Meeting at church.

After the opening hymn, the First Reader read a short Scriptural Selection, usually the most interesting part except for the hymns themselves. Tonight, this Scriptural Selection included a familiar statement of Jesus:

Matthew 7:22 -- "Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works?"

Matthew 7:23 -- "And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity."

If the Scriptural Selection was the most interesting, the last part, consisting of healing testimonies from the congregation, was the most boring. The gaps between testimonies kept reminding me that some time, I would have to stand up myself to give a testimony.

Ruth whispered to me, "Don't worry. You don't have to give a testimony if you don't want." It helped some, but that part of the service was still boring.

The Wednesday Evening Meetings always ended with the final hymn. Once we finished singing it, one could stand up, leave the bench, and depart. However, we generally stayed and listened to a few minutes of incidental music while Ma socialized with various church ladies.

Ruth got up and went over to the seven-year-old twin girls who were in Ruth's Sunday School class. They were among the few children who came to Wednesday Evening Meetings. I absently watched Ruth with the twins, thinking about Peter back in the other reality -- never coming, having been barred from church. I wondered about Ruth's willing socialization with girls a couple years younger, considering how she remembered her life as Peter. She was seriously into her role as the nine-year-old Ruth, and had been from the start.

Ma was talking with the twins' grandmother, Mrs. Rochester, and my ears perked up when Mrs. Rochester mentioned Bikini Beach: "They had a lovely time, burning off excess energy with all the attractions, and I had a nice, relaxing time. We ended the summer on a high note, and I shall sorely miss them when they fly back tomorrow."

"Lucy's been visiting Bikini Beach the past couple of weeks," said Ma. "She's made nice friends there. She took Ruth with her last Saturday, and again Tuesday. Ruth enjoys it as well." I was just a bit uncomfortable at being talked about, and wondered if anyone would bring up Bikini Beach transformations. But nobody did.

Eventually, we went home. Ruth seemed preoccupied with her own thoughts. My long-time disquiet about having to give a testimonial kept raising its head, no matter how often I replayed Ruth's reassurance. Even when I reminded myself, from my earlier time as Lucy, that I was no longer going to be embarrassed or mortified.

I was standing in Church, giving a comment on Christian Science. "I found Jesus's warning so insightful. I mean, there are those who think they are doing Jesus's work, but in reality act contrary to Jesus's teachings." I was wearing a one-piece swimsuit, with flip-flops and an anklet of beads, because there was going to be a Bikini Beach photoshoot just after church. I didn't think it would be a good idea to wear a bikini to church.

"The Hunks!" OMG, there they were, the hunks, Fab and June! I tried to run, to catch up with them. My muscles were utterly paralyzed, and Fab and June were always about thirty yards ahead.

Fab said, "We never knew you!" followed by June's, "Depart from us!"

I yelped and yanked awake in distressed horror, and balled my eyes, heart, and agony out. I continued weeping, even as I sat relieving myself in the bathroom.

Thursday, August 21

I woke up that morning feeling bittersweet relief. Things with Fab and June were never going to work out anyway. I was going to become Luke again Saturday night, if I understood things correctly. Come to think of it, what was going to happen with the ballet performances? I would probably change after Saturday night's performance, so what was going to happen Sunday afternoon?

I shouldn't be worrying about that, especially as I could do nothing about it. We had our dress rehearsal tonight, and that was probably going to be a pain.

As usual, after the morning activities at home, Ruth and I took the bus to Bikini Beach. As usual, we separated and met up with our respective friends. Even as we swam and did the activities, it seemed as if we couldn't talk about anything except tomorrow's photoshoot. I admit that I got caught up in the excitement. We'd even mostly forgotten that one of our dear friends, Faline, wasn't with us.

I also reminded them that our dress rehearsal was tonight, and our first performance was tomorrow night. That also meant that Ruth and I would have to depart early to rest for the evening.

Ruth and I departed a couple hours after lunch, and we napped a couple hours during the afternoon. I read a bit when I couldn't sleep, making sure not to awaken Ruth in the process. We went to the Civic Center, where the stage was all set up for the performance.

I thought that we would run straight through the performance, but there were always cuts and corrections and suggestions here and there. It took an hour longer than it should have.

Friday, August 22

Ruth and I woke up early. Ma was taking us to Bikini Beach for the photoshoot, and we wanted to arrive before eight. The girls were all planning to arrive early as well. Because of rush hour, Ma had us depart by seven, just after a short breakfast. She played the Mental Work and the Lesson-Sermon in the car on the way. I was wearing shorts over my one-piece swimsuit, while Ruth wore shorts and a t-shirt. I made sure that I had everything I needed, including my clarinet kit and a change of clothes. There was no ballet this afternoon. Tonight would be our first performance.

Ma dropped us off and said, "I'll park the car and join you. I'm trying out Bikini Beach today."

A sign indicated the photoshoot gathering place, and Grandmother was waiting there, along with a few girls. Ruth ran straight over to Grandmother, but I spotted Carol along with Nancy and Cindy walking toward us, and joined them. I embraced Carol and asked, "Looking forward to this?"

"Absolutely!" she answered.

Aunt Yuko's car stopped near us and let Becky and Tracy out, and they joined us. We ambled toward the photoshoot area, and the bus from downtown arrived at the bus stop. Girls and women poured from the exits, along with a few boys and men. Two older boys, siblings, approached the photoshoot assembly area.

"Oh-my-God, the Hunks!" Tracy rushed toward them, and we followed behind.

A car pulled up and let out a couple redheads. Carol ran up and greeted them, enthusiastically hugging the younger girl about our age, Nancy and Cindy joining them. They both hugged the older girl. I was going to join them, but I whipped around when Tracy wheezed, "It's her!" and collapsed.

Ruth just happened to be there and somehow caught Tracy mid-fall, letting her down slowly. Ruth whipped her t-shirt off and fanned the unconscious Tracy's face. Grandmother came up a couple seconds later and leaned over her. Becky was there as well.

Anya appeared from nowhere that I noticed, and somehow managed to persuade the crowd to stay away. "Keep away please. Give the girl room to breath!" I had no idea what to do -- this was so out of the blue. For now, I stood and watched as Tracy came to. I could barely hear her words. "She's alive! She's alive! Oh God, she's alive!" She was crying.

What the heck?! I inched a few feet closer to hear better.

"Ruth," Tracy was saying with difficulty. "You hated me... Jill... the darkness... that dead face haunting me... that name... the sense of strangling someone..." With difficulty, she rummaged through her purse and found her Bikini Beach card, and stared hard at it. "A lifetime membership." She took a long, deep breath. "Ruth, did I do something unforgivable?"

Ruth answered in tears, "No Tracy, you did nothing unforgivable."

Tracy turned to Grandmother. "Grandmother? Is that true?"

Grandmother, looking as if she were about to shed a few tears herself, replied, "Yes, it's true." Tracy's whole body visibly relaxed, and her head flopped back down, in an almost faint of relief.

I had absolutely no idea what this was about, but I figured that Tracy wouldn't want to lose the hunks once we had our hooks in them, so I went over to them. "Hello. Are you guys here for the photoshoot?"

"Yeah," the younger replied. "Our friend Jill told us to come. That's her over there."

I glanced at the redheads. "Carol and Nancy seem to know them well. Okay, um." I didn't really know how to say this. "My friend Tracy -- she's the one who collapsed just now -- Becky there is her twin sister. Tracy's seen you entering Bikini Beach many times, and she's been dying to get to know you. She's never been able to find you inside." They really were hunks. I couldn't help checking them out.

They glanced at each other. They apparently couldn't think of anything to say, so I continued, "You probably look rather different as girls."

Both burst out laughing, "You hit the nail on the head there," said the older one. He held out his hand, which I took and shook. "I'm Stephen." He pronounced it like Steven. "Spelled with a ph, but it's Steph at Bikini Beach. And this is my brother Craig, and he's Crista at Bikini Beach." I shook his hand as well.

"And I'm Lucy." I paused, then continued, "Until tomorrow night." We laughed again.

I looked back at Tracy. Becky was helping her up. She seemed mostly okay now. "Here, let me introduce you to Tracy and Becky, and the rest of our friends -- whoa, Faline's back!" Yay! I thought she might have been permanently mad at us.

I took a hand of each of them, and led them into what was now a good-sized crowd, including a couple more guys. Ma was there now as well.

"Okay you guys," shouted Anya, unnaturally loud as if speakers surrounded us. "Let's line up, and yes, you guys are welcome as well. Participants get three-day memberships."

I quickly asked before we separated, "Any way we'll be able to find you once inside?"

"We'll find you and your friends if you can't," answered Stephen. "Don't worry."

Ma helped Grandmother and Anya, along with a few other adults. They got us all in three lines. Ruth along with the other handful of little girls, one little boy, with Jen and a few other short girls at the ends, knelt on the grass. I stood behind Ruth in the second line, and the tallest girls (including Carol) and all the boys stood among the girls in the third line behind us. Xena maneuvered herself to stand behind Jen, and crouched to rest her hands on Jen's shoulders. Jen straightened up a little, to make it easier for Xena.

Other boys and girls were maneuvering themselves in the third row, to embrace the girl in front or lean his head on her shoulder. A boy had his arms around Jill, who seemed to be the center of this.

A few photos were taken, then we were sent in line to shower and change. It wasn't quite as orderly as row-by-row, because the young girls had their older siblings join them. We were all given three-day membership cards. "If you are already a member," announced Anya, "You may save the guest pass for later or give it to a friend or relative. Introduce her, or him, to Bikini Beach." I sense a certain glee as she spoke those last words. "Most of you already know this. Shower; it's a Bikini Beach health requirement.

"Meet outside the man office once you've changed. The photoshoot is not over, not by a long shot!"

Upon receiving the pass, I stowed it in my purse. I was still a girl, and would be until midnight the following day. As I did, I noticed my bikini in my purse. What was it doing there? Who'd put it there? I for sure didn't.

While waiting in the line for the turnstiles, I noticed that Tracy was hovering around Jill and her boyfriend, while Becky was chatting with the hunks.

I was already in my swimsuit -- a one-piece, and no, I wasn't going to change into the Bikini. Ruth found her bikini as well, and also refused to wear it. We had little to do but shower, so we showered. I returned to the girls. "I'm returning to the photoshoot. I'll see you guys there."

"I'll join you," said Becky quickly. Carol came as well. They were both in their bikinis and had already showered as well. We headed toward the office building, where others were already meeting.

A girl, perhaps a couple years older, emerged in her bikini from the "women's overflow locker room" all flustered and disoriented.

"This is your first time," I said, not bothering to ask.

"You're right. I won't ask--" she whipped around at the exit of two more girls. "Wha--? Where did you come from? I was the only one in there!"

"We followed you inside," said the younger of the two, "only to enter the empty room. It always happens." Unlike the first girl, they appeared accustomed to their girlness.

"This place is insane," said the flustered girl.

"We know the feeling -- at least Lucy and me," said Becky. "I'm afraid Carol has no idea."

"I'm afraid that you're right," agreed Carol. "I have no idea what it would be like to suddenly change into a boy. What's your name?"

"I'm Jackie." She scrunched her nose. "I don't even know how it's spelled."

"We're Lucy, Carol, and Becky," said Becky.

"And we're Crista and Steph," said the older girl.

"They're the two hunks," I told Becky. "They visit here a lot."

"This is a wonderful place," said Crista, the younger. "And it's always fun and just a bit strange being girls."

Jackie seemed calm now, and relieved. I knew how it helped to confirm and validate one's experience. I knew this was nothing but an unsupported hunch, but I said, "Jill's still in the girls' locker room."

"Oh, thanks! She does take quite a while to get ready."

"She's probably chattering with all the girls there," Becky added.

"You could search for her," I said, "but I suggest you join us for the photoshoot. You won't get lost that way. They'll be out eventually."

"I can't wait to see Tracy's reaction to you," said Becky with a titter.

"Guys, shall we go?" said Carol.

I quickly took Jackie's hand and Carol's hand, and Becky took the two hunks' hands. We made our way to the office building.

"I thought Jill's photoshoot was for only a few people," said Jackie.

"I don't think they expected such a large crowd," said Carol as we arrived. "Once she invited her cousin and my friend Alice, we all wanted in. Especially those of us who already had memberships. We weren't asking for anything, really. Just to join in."

We waited, as more girls arrived. I saw June's older sister Jing nearby. She looked around, and her gaze went right over me without sign of recognition. I felt a pulse of grief, reminded that now they never knew me. Carol briefly squeezed my hand.

The rest of us all arrived together, along with other girls, including Jill and the younger redhead our age. Ruth was with Helen and Vanessa. Carol went up and hugged the younger redhead. "Alice! It's so great you could come!"

Jill came and grabbed Jackie. "Jackie! Where did you go? Why didn't you change with us?" She sounded mad.

"I went into the women's overfl-- I mean the women's-- What-the--". Uhoh, it happened. I ran up and tapped Jackie's shoulder, and stood up on my toes.

"She doesn't remember," I whispered in her ear.

"What?!"

I continued to whisper. "It's more than just becoming a girl. Reality has shifted."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll tell you later. I can't now, whispering like this."

Becky dragged Tracy to Crista and Steph, and introduced introduced them as "The Hunks". "Twice the person, quadruple the attraction, eh?" said Crista.

It was funny, now Becky was sticking like glue to them, and Tracy didn't seem so interested. She was always hanging around Jill, acting almost giddy-like.

After a few more photos at the entrance, the photoshoot become a tour of Bikini Beach. Most of us went on the water rides, and were photographed in the process, climbing up, reaching the top, sliding down screaming in hilarity, and splashing at the end.

We were all walking along the volcano trail, and Tracy was as usually hanging metaphorically onto Jill, and Jill was getting annoyed. Ruth went up to Tracy, and pulled her away. At that point, I found the eagle-eye view of Bikini Beach way down below quite attractive and interesting.

I overheard one last exchange between Ruth and Tracy. Tracy said, "Let the dead bury themselves, right?" Ruth echoed, "Right." I didn't bother to attempt to figure out what that was supposed to be, and Tracy spent the rest of the photoshoot with Becky and the Hunks.

We reached the Pipeline. We had to wait while they set up a couple cameras. Then we all splashed down. Apparently Jackie had to be reminded to find his bikini top and put it back on. Jill was surprised and angry about her nonchalance with toplessness.

The photoshoot finally ended. A few of us had something this afternoon, so a group of us went for lunch. Carol paid more attention to Alice and Jill than to us, but I was just happy to relax and listen along, and eat.

Like me, both Jill and Alice had school practice at Westside High the following afternoon. They were cheerleaders. Apparently, Jill was co-captain of the cheerleading squad, and Alice was an incoming freshman like me. I wondered if I'd seen them practicing last Saturday. "But we'll definitely return here tomorrow morning," said Jill.

Ma appeared. "You and Ruth have music lessons in half an hour. It's high-time to get dressed!" OMG, I'd forgotten about clarinet lessons!

"G-bye, everyone! I'll see you tomorrow!" Because of tonight's ballet performance, I wouldn't return after my lesson. I high-tailed it to the locker room, with Ruth on my tail. I managed to quickly shower and change. Ruth simply put on shorts over her swimsuit, as did Ma. I briefly considered that, but decided against it. It might have been too much with Brandon.

Ma first dropped me off for my clarinet lesson, before going on with Ruth. As usual, Meredith came out as I was assembling my clarinet. "Hi, Meredith."

"Hey Lucy," she replied on her way out.

We had rescheduled clarinet lessons for fall, of course, but I was reminded that this would be my last lesson as Lucy. I couldn't help dropping a few tears. We'd already settled our fall lesson schedule, but I would be Luke by then. I greeted Brandon with a brief hug. "Hi, Mr. Oregon."

The lesson went well. I did my best to play my best. When the lesson ended, I limited myself to hugging him and kissing his cheek. I knew that things would be totally different at our next lesson.

There was no ballet afterwards. Ma picked Ruth and me up, and took us home to relax before the performance tonight. It was our first performance, and I was getting progressively more and more nervous. Ruth was as well. She joined me in my room. Daisy came over as well and joined us. It seemed as if she could sense our nervousness.

"I'd love seeing you tonight," said Daisy. "But it's too late. I'll come to Sunday's show."

I slept for a few hours, until dinner time. Daisy was still with us; she had a book in her hand when I awoke. Ruth and I both showered and dressed for dinner. Daisy stayed for dinner as well, but she didn't have to shower and change.

After a quick and not very filling dinner, it was off to performance. We went directly to the Green Room. After changing into my tights, leotard, and tutu, I helped Ruth with her hair, makeup, and sparkles. Although we did hair and some makeup during rehearsals, we didn't do anything with sparkles then. This was our first time. A girl my age named Annie did my sparkles, and did my hair while I was doing Ruth's hair and make-up.

A couple people, including Alice, helped me, and I helped a number of persons. All in good time, we got our opening costuming. The hard part would come later, with fast costume changes during the performance.

Fortunately, everything went well. At the intermission, Ruth and I went to see Ma and Pa. We encountered friends, old acquaintances, and new acquaintances. The other seven of my BB friends were here, including Faline. Candy, Jill, and Jackie (her boyfriend???) were there, as were the two Hunks, Steph and Crista. Nancy and Cindy were there too. It was so wonderful that they all came to support me!

Eventually, Ruth and I had to return to prepare for the second half.

The applause at the end was deafening, and we, the entire cast, danced an encore for the audience.

        Saturday, August 23

The next day was busy. I knew that this would be my last day as Lucy, and I wanted to see one last time all my friends, both old and new, at Bikini Beach. Ruth and Ma both joined me, Ruth after telling me that she was considering staying home and relaxing or playing with Daisy. Of course, once she arrived, she ran off to join her own friends.

Ma had a month-long membership for her help with the photoshoot.

After lunch, Ma drove me to school for Saturday-afternoon marching band practice. She also took Ruth home to rest and relax for the afternoon.

We had our second performance after dinner, and it went as well as the first one. As Ruth and I searched for Ma and Pa in the audience, Ruth said, "Hey, there's your clarinet teacher." How she managed to spot Brandon in this crowd, I have no idea.

We worked our way to him. "Mr. Oregon! I'm so happy to see you here!"

"Lucy! This is a wonderful performance so far. You're lovely in your dance costume."

"Why, thank you, kind sir." I bobbed a little ballet curtsy for him. I couldn't help being just a bit giggly.

We chatted some more, then Ruth reminded me that we should find Ma and Pa.

"Sorry, I really have to go," I said. "I'm really glad I got to see you one last time." I embraced him again and kissed him on the cheek. "Good night."

As Ruth and I made our way to Ma and Pa, she said, "You just weirded him out, you know."

"What do you mean?"

"`One last time'? As if you weren't continuing with your clarinet lessons in the fall? As if you were quitting them forever?"

"I'm continuing them, but as -- you know who," I said.

"Yah, but he's still going to find that really creepy, well, for the next few hours, unless..." Ruth paused.

"Unless what?"

"I'll tell you later. Let's get through `The Sleeping Beauty' this weekend, first."

We found Ma and Pa. Carol was with them, but as far as I could tell, none of my other friends came.

"It's wonderful you came!" I exclaimed as I embraced her.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," she replied.

After some time, I felt Ruth trying to cut in, so I pulled back and let her hug Carol. I looked her up and down; she was beautiful in her simple dress, with her hair framing her face.

I really couldn't do anything other than relax, but Ruth chatted her up enough for both of us.

I decided we should head back to the Green room. While we still had a good ten or so minutes left, I wanted to sample the snacks and begin dressing up for the second half.

We got as strong an applause at the end this evening as we did the opening night, and as before, we performed the encore dance. Ruth and I got home exhausted and went straight to bed.

        Sunday, August 24

I was lying in bed, gradually realizing that I'd been lying in bed for the longest time. I couldn't get myself to rise out of bed. I gradually realized that I felt strange all over -- all this week's dancing must have really gotten to me -- and really had to go to the bathroom.

Only then did I get up and make my way to the bathroom. I managed to avoid letting loose upon sitting on the toilet just in time to be consciously aware of the dingle-dangles sandwiched between my legs. I clamped down; I'd been only a second or so from making a serious mess. I reached down between my legs, and pushed them all down, and let loose -- ahhhhhh.

"I'm back." My voice was so hoarse and rusty. I cleared my throat, even though there was nothing to clear, and repeated it. And that was what had felt so strange -- not all the week's dancing. Luke was back. I told myself that the strangeness would pass, the way the strangeness of being a girl did. After I finished peeing, I stood and looked at myself in the mirror. I actually wasn't bad-looking, I could even go for myself, I thought as my privates rose. I recalled how I saw both Peter and Pa as hunks a week earlier. I hoped that it was the naughtiness of me checking my naked self out, or a relic of Lucy in me.

I pulled up my pajama shorts, and returned to my bedroom for more sleep.

I did fall asleep, and woke up some time later -- after eight. I returned to the bathroom, this time peeing appropriately as a guy. Upon returning to my room, I decided to dress up for Sunday School and Church. I went to the closet to pick out a nice dress, but opening the closet reminded me that a nice dress wasn't an option. I only had that uncomfortable, ill-fitting black suit.

I grit my teeth as I stepped into the pants and pulled them up around me. They were tight around my butt, and weaseled themselves up between when I sat. Having experienced nice Sunday wear, I told myself to get Ma or Pa to take me shopping for a new well-fitting suit.

I heard a couple knocks on the door. "Come in, Ruth." She entered just as I pulled my pants up to my waist, and hooked them closed.

"Hey, Luke. You're back." She smiled as she sat on the bed. She was already dressed for Sunday School.

I zipped my pants up and sat on the bed facing her, one leg off the bed.

"Yeah." I smiled and sighed a bit. I wasn't really sure how I felt about being Luke now.

"You'll feel better, or at least more normal, in time," said Ruth. "I envy you just a bit. You'll get to watch the show in the audience."

I remembered with guilt that I -- Luke -- didn't go to last night's or Friday night's performance. I had a certain sense of mortification if Ma or Pa or anyone ever thought I might be attracted to pretty lovely girls dancing in tutus, or would learn about the crushes I had on some of the girls in the show, girls I knew last year at school. Then there was my fear that someone would find out that I watched ballet.

"Luke! Ruth! Breakfast time!" Ma called from downstairs. Usually, Ma didn't have to call us down for breakfast; we were already downstairs by then. But we'd overslept. It was clear, too, that Ma no longer remembered Lucy.

Ma played the Mental Work over breakfast as usual, and then she took us to Sunday School. Sunday School was the usual boring nonsense, once we broke into small classes, and as usual, I was relieved once it ended.

Ruth didn't talk with her classmates after school. Instead, she led me around to a rock next to the side of the church.

"The twins weren't in class."

"They flew back to New York last Thursday," I reminded her.

She didn't reply, but she seemed to be pondering over something. After a moment, she said, "Their grandmother took them to Bikini Beach on Wednesday."

"Yes, she told Mom all about it at Church Wednesday night."

Ma and Pa came to Church, and Church Service came and went after dragging on and on. Ma's socialization with the other Church ladies went on and on as well. But we finally returned home for Sunday dinner.

Ruth only ate a small portion of Sunday dinner, following which Ma took her out and dropped her off at the Civic Center. The rest of us didn't have to arrive for another hour and a half.

"Luke," said Pa, about half an hour later, interrupting my reading. "I'm surprised you're still wearing your suit."

"I have nothing else suitable for Ruth's show."

"Oh? You were adamant, really angrily adamant, last night and Friday night, about not going."

"Well, I'm going now," I said saucily. I didn't feel like explaining anything. Just in case, I reminded myself of my vow as Lucy, I wouldn't be embarrassed again. I would enjoy the naughtiness of it all.

Pa was tongue-tied for a moment. Then he said, "Good."

This just occurred to me. "Pa, Daisy would like to see the show, seeing Ruth on-stage."

"Yes," Pa said, "The Matsumotos going to see it today with us."

"Pa." I wanted to bring this up before I forgot. "I really need a new suit. This suit fits terrible."

"I agree one hundred percent," said Ma, who'd just returned and entered without my noticing. "You do need a new suit. One that grows with you, that we can adjust, at least for the next couple of years. We have to get it before Wednesday." Of course. So that I could wear it to the Wednesday Evening meeting. That would definitely make life a whole lot more comfortable.

We left for the show a while later. Mom raised her eyebrows as I joined them, but said nothing.

Pa dropped Ma and me off and went to park the car. We joined Daisy and Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto in line.

"Luke!" exclaimed Daisy, grabbing me in a hug. I lifted her up. She seemed shorter, somehow. Also, considerably lighter.

Pa joined us, and we eventually reached the ticket booth and got our tickets.

Once inside the lobby, Daisy exclaimed, "Hey, there's Helen and Vanessa!" I looked where she was looking, and sure enough, there they were, about halfway across the lobby. They were with their parents.

"Ma, Pa, we're going to meet up with friends. We'll be back shortly." I let Daisy down, and we made our way to Vanessa and her family.

Carol was with them, when we reached them. "Carol! Vanessa!" I had to remember not to hug them immediately, realizing that they might not immediately recognize me.

Sure enough, they both looked at me with uncertainty. Then Carol said, "I remember you at the library. You had that sexy novel, Lace." She looked straight at my eyes -- we were now about the same height. "You're-- Luke!" She whispered something in Vanessa's ear, then came and hugged me.

We pulled apart, only for Vanessa to come and hug me. She whispered in my ear, "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you there, Luke."

"That's quite okay," I answered.

As we pulled apart, I said, "This is Daisy, Ruth's best friend. She recognized both of you, although I don't think you recognize her."

"You're right, I'm sorry, we don't," admitted Vanessa.

"However, any friend of Ruth is a friend of mine," said Helen, smiling suddenly. Helen and Daisy began chatting.

"We might have met her before, and simply forgot," said Vanessa.

"She has a very good memory," said Carol. "She remembers a lot that we're not supposed to remember." She winked at Vanessa. "Luke, you won't mind if I sit with Vanessa and her family?"

"That's quite all right. Ma and Pa might get strange ideas. Daisy, I think we should go back. Looks as if they're starting to go in."

"Bye, Helen!" said Daisy, as we returned to our families.

I was about to enter the row of seats after Daisy, when a girl in ballet walked by. "Hey, Annie," I casually greeted her.

She turned and grabbed my by the arms. "Oh, Luke! I'm so glad I found you! We desperately need your help in the Green Room!"

"Whoa, what's this all about?" asked Pa.

"They need my help," I replied. "Some costume changes and makeup work have to be done really fast. Sure, I'll help you." I followed Annie to the Green Room. The previous performances and rehearsals, she'd done some of my hair, makeup, and sparkles.

So I spent the entire performance in the Green Room, unlike the nights before. We had periods of intense costume change, interleaved with relaxing waiting times. I knew all the changes I'd helped with before, and I knew my own costume and Ruth's, so that gave me plenty to do when it was needed.

Intermission finally came. Ruth and I left to join Ma and Pa, and the Costume Lady insisted on joining us. I stopped at the men's room and cleaned myself as much as I could, especially my hands.

"You've been busy," Ma said upon my arrival, indicating my hands. I'd washed them, but the make-up residuals hadn't completely washed out. "You have make-up on your jacket as well." I glanced down. I hadn't noticed.

"Yeah," I said with a bit of a tired sigh. "There's still the second half."

"Luke was a life-saver," said the costume lady. "I just don't know how we would have made the changes in time without him." She offered to refund our ticket prices, but Pa would have none of it.

Pa said, "You probably need every cent you can get, and we easily afford the ticket prices."

Ruth and I returned to the Green Room, where snacks were available, and I ate a few. Some people were already changing into their costumes, so I got busy again, well before the ballet resumed with the second act.

When the show ended, they had not only the cast come onstage for the encore, but also the stage-hands and everyone who worked off the stage. They demanded that I join them.

After we all left the stage, and the audience was walking out, everyone started talking about striking the stage. I remembered Lucy remembering something about strike, although I/she apparently never participated. But now I thought, why not? They probably could use the help. Ruth and children her age weren't allowed to participate in strike.

Ruth and I returned to Ma and Pa. I told them that I was going to help with strike.

"Then I'll help, if they let me," said Pa.

"There's also the party," said Ruth. "They want Luke." We'd never participated in the post-performance party before, either.

Ma shrugged. "Sure, I'm fine with that. Ruth can go, too."

Pa came back with us, and we joined the strike team. It took about an hour to dismantle everything.

At the party, everyone recognized me as the boy who joined and helped with the show. Nobody but Ruth knew or remembered my being with them this past week, or in ballet class the past three weeks. I think that I talked more with girls at the party than I ever talked with girls before as Luke.

I once overheard Ruth saying to a few kids, "See, I told you. Luke's the best big brother ever." That made me feel warm and cosy.

Ruth dozed off leaning against me as Ma drove us home late that afternoon. I realized that I'd been mentally Lucy in the Green Room, or maybe I was just too busy to check out anyone or even think of the situation I was in, surrounded by girls in various states of undress.

Once we got home, I said, "Ma, Pa, Ruth and I both seriously need a nap. We're tired."

"Sure," said Pa. "Take as long as you want. You've earned it. Some time this evening, though, we need to talk."

Ruth and I went upstairs to our rooms. I removed my suit (finally!), slid under the covers, and curled up. It only took a few seconds of conscious, deliberate relaxation, and then I awoke -- it must have been four hours later. I heard everyone talking downstairs -- I recognized Daisy's voice as well.

Pa's "We need to talk" echoed in my mind, and I got up and dressed in jeans and t-shirt with trepidation, and slowly went down to join them.

A rather different Sunday evening snack was set out on the table, with strips of cold chicken and raw vegetables and salads. Daisy was with Ruth, munching at the snacks.

"Have a seat, Luke." Ruth shifted her chair over, and brought a chair between Daisy and her. I smiled, mentally thanking Ruth for sparing me the choice of sitting next to Daisy or Ruth.

"Today has been just about my most surreal day ever," said Pa. "It reminded me of an old joke told by President Ronald Reagan."

"Mmmm?" said Ma.

"It goes like this: how do you know that an ethnic-group-one is at a cock-fight? He enters a duck into the cockfight.

"How do you know that an ethnic-group-two is at a cock-fight? He bets on the duck.

"How do you know the Mafia's at the cockfight? The duck wins."

I couldn't help a burst of laughter.

Pa continued. "At the show, a girl shows up and demands Luke help in the back rooms. Luke goes along with her. And apparently, Luke knows what he's doing and does an excellent job.

"You absolutely refused to go to the show and watch Ruth last night and Friday night. Then you insisted on going today. So."

Pa paused. I awaited the other foot to drop.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Luke?"

I repeated what I'd pulled on Peter at Carol's -- this time sure that BB wouldn't trip up my words. "For all you know, I just might be Lucy, your naughty fourteen-year-old daughter."

"Very funny," said Pa.

Ruth and Daisy laughed and leaned against me. Pa said, "And Ruth never does that with you, either!"

"I did on the way home today," said Ruth.

I changed the subject a little, reminding myself of my vow not to be embarrassed, and to go along with and enjoy any embarrassment. "I'm thinking of starting ballet this fall, perhaps instead of piano lessons." I wondered if Ma and Pa thought I would be taking it because of Annie, or because of all the girls. I added, "I've been reliably informed that Taekwondo plus ballet is a lethal combination."

"Okay, if this is what you've been sneaking around all summer doing during the day..." he trailed off. "Well, there's a whole lot worse you could have been sneaking around with."

Mom said, "We do need to go shopping tomorrow, for school stuff and your new suit."

"Would tomorrow evening be okay?" I asked. "I have a piano lesson shortly after school, followed by Taekwondo." I wasn't going to mention that I'd rigged the schedule so that I could change into my TKD uniform when school let out, and attend both piano and TKD in my uniform. Mrs. Prudence was nicer as a piano teacher when I wore my uniform. And of course, I was never going to mention that I would try to maintain or relearn what I knew as Lucy with clarinet and piano.

As yet, I had no idea how that would work out.

As I went to bed, Ruth knocked on the door, entered, and handed me several hand-written sheets. "Ma and Pa shouldn't see them," she said.

High school begins for Luke and his friends -- and fourth grade begins for Ruth.

        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 will need huge revision, if I ever get around to it. I was intending to cover the first week of school, but I decided to end this part abruptly at this point to get it out now. I'm such a procrastinator at writing.

        Sunday Night, August 24

As I went to bed, Ruth knocked on the door, entered, and handed me several hand-written sheets. "Ma and Pa shouldn't see them," she said, as she turned and left.

I thought of reading them that night, but school was going to begin the next morning, and I didn't want to be a sleepy nervous wreck. I'd probably be enough of a nervous wreck as it was. I decided to fold Ruth's writing and hide them where Lucy's contraceptive pills had been -- that had been a decent hiding place.

I set my alarm, and retired in bed for the night.

        Monday, August 25

I was lying in bed, telling myself I really should get up now. It was getting light outside, and I sensed something new and important happening today, even if I couldn't remember what it was. Well, I had piano lessons and Taekwondo today after school, but what else was there? Oh yes -- school!

Meanwhile, I also had to go to the bathroom -- badly. So I finally got myself up, and went straight out for the bathroom.

Ruth came out of the bathroom in a bathrobe right at that time.

"Hi, Ruth. Looking forward to school?" That was meant as a silly question.

"Fourth grade? Not exactly. But I plan to have as much fun as possible these two weeks."

I continued on to the bathroom and relieved myself with a sigh of relief. I returned to my room, and went to pick out a nice dress for school. Upon opening my closet door, I realized that was never going to happen. No, I was Luke now, and Luke didn't wear dresses -- nice or otherwise. Hrmph! I'd already made that mistake the previous day. Why again?

I decided on a pair of blue slacks and a collared polo t-shirt for the first day of school. I couldn't remember how strict the dress code was at Westside High. To make sure I didn't forget, I folded up a TKD uniform and packed it in my knapsack, and followed up with my clarinet.

I showered and dressed, and went downstairs. Ma was already up, and she had cooked a good breakfast. Ruth was downstairs, dressed for school in a t-shirt and knee-length shorts, already eating. As soon as I arrived, she turned on the Mental Work.

After dinner, Ruth and I got our knapsacks and departed. Ruth's school was rather close. Westside High was considerably farther, but still walkable -- even from the elementary school, which was off in a different direction.

"Would you like me to walk with you to school?" I asked Ruth.

"Yeah, I'd like that," she answered.

As we approached Daisy's house, Ruth said, "Let's see if Daisy's ready to go. She'll want to walk with us." We went up and rang the doorbell.

Mr. Matsumoto opened the door. "Hey, Ruth and Luke. Daisy's just about ready." He turned and called out, "Daisy, dear, Ruth and Luke are here."

"I'm all ready!" called out Daisy from inside. I heard thumping inside, and she came out with her knapsack. "Hey, Ruth, Luke!" She hugged us both.

"You look great!" said Ruth, and indeed Daisy did in her nice dress.

"You look handsome, too," replied Daisy.

"I haven't worn knee-length shorts like these since I was Peter," replied Ruth.

"That was a little over a week ago -- if I recall correctly," I added as an afterthought. Daisy and Ruth snickered. "Shall we head off, now?" I asked.

We met other children also walking to school. Most were in groups with friends, and about half-way there, I asked, "Do you want to join your friends?"

"Yeah!" said Daisy. "Let's go!" Both Daisy and Ruth ran off to a group of children, and I turned and continued to Westside High.

I arrived all in due time. Students were pouring out of school buses. I felt a spell of relief. If I were lost, I could follow them.

Almost immediately, I spotted Bruce and Tracy, and went over and hugged them both.

Tracy hugged back enthusiastically, but Bruce backed away nervously. "We're at school now, and we're no longer girls."

A passer-by paused and slowly turned his head toward Bruce, with a strange wide-eyed gaze. He shook his head with a snort, and went on his way. Bruce didn't need me to tell him that what he'd just said sounded stranger than two guys hugging in friendship. Before becoming Lucy, I was very much of his mode of thinking. But then, as Lucy, I vowed that I wouldn't be embarrassed; I'd enjoy the embarrassment and run with the thrill.

"So does anyone know what we're supposed to do now?" asked Bruce.

I answered, "Follow the crowd, I guess. Someone knows what's happening."

So we followed the crowd.

I spotted Carol and Nancy among a group of friends, just as Tracy said, "There's Carol!" We made our way to them.

"Hey, Luke, Tracy! And-- Bruce?" she asked.

"Yep, that's me," answered Bruce, and Carol hugged all three of us.

"Hey, Nancy," I greeted Carol's sister. "Curt?" I asked the guy with his arm around Nancy's waist. "Were you--"

"Yes, I was," Curt answered quickly, blushing.

I would recognize those two red-headed, freckle-faced girls anywhere. "Hello, you are Alice?" I asked the younger, the girl my age. "You were at the photoshoot last Friday."

"Yes. I don't recognize you..." she said.

"He wasn't quite himself last Friday," broke in Carol. "This is my good friend Luke. These are Bruce and--"

"You stuck to me like a celebrity-obsessed fangirl," said the older girl to Tracy. I remembered her name was Jill.

Tracy blushed. "Sorry about that."

They were among other friends, some of whom I knew in middle school, ballet, and TKD. One of the girls from ballet, Val, said, "This boy appeared out of nowhere yesterday, to help us all with our performance."

"It wasn't out of nowhere," I objected. "Annie dragged me there."

"That makes it all the stranger," she replied. "Okay, I won't try to find out what happened; I don't want to jinx ourselves."

We continued onward, and found ourselves in a gymnasium. Apparently, we were assigned particular places in the bleechers at random, where the teachers had our schedules.

We spent about 45 minutes listening (or not) to speeches by the principal, the student counselors, and various other personages. Following the speeches, the teachers for our particular bleacher section handed out our schedules.

To my surprise, I found that I'd placed into Algebra II, my first class of the day. It seems that I managed to place out of Geometry despite my, um, diversion with Bikini Beach. Now that I thought of it, I'd taken a test (sort-of) a couple weeks ago, and passed enough to place. Most of the students were tenth-graders or higher. Meredith, the girl who took saxophone lessons just before mine with Brandon Oregon, was the other freshman in the class. I was surprised to see young boy, perhaps a couple years older than Ruth.

My other classes were basic freshman classes -- science, language arts, first-year German, history -- and, of course, band. I was exempt from the PE requirement due to summer's Taewondo class. If I stuck with Taekwondo this fall, through the entire semester, I would place out of PE in the Spring as well.

Band was held during the first of the two lunch periods. I saw Fab and felt a momentary pang, before shoving it aside. We finally got to play a few pieces in band. Lunch followed for me, but none of my summer friends were there, including the twins, so I prepared to eat alone, nothing unfamiliar from past years of school. I spotted Meredith a few tables down, but we didn't really know each other.

Just as I was about to sit at a mostly-empty table, Val, the girl from ballet, shouted out, "Hey, Luke, over here!" She was sitting with Annie and a couple other girls from ballet, so I joined them for lunch. They chatted among themselves, while I remained mostly silent, hoping they wouldn't bring up my involvement yesterday or -- yikes! -- my participation as Lucy. Fortunately, they didn't.

German was the last class of the day. When class let out, I walked to a nearby bus stop, and took the bus to the transit center. Once I got off, I slipped into a men's room, changed into my Taekwondo uniform, and went off for my piano lesson with Mrs. Prudence. Shameless as it was, I wanted every advantage I could get with Mrs. Prudence.

She greeted me at the door. "Taekwondo afterwords?"

"Yeah." Of course, I didn't admit why.

June was leaving just as I arrived for Taekwondo. Again I suppressed a pang as we casually greeted each other. I shortly got into the exercises and instruction.

I walked home from TKD afterwards. I got home just about the same time as Pa from work. I was wondering how Ruth took to fourth grade. We both saw the message Ma left on the kitchen counter, next to two thawing frozen pizzas, telling us that she took Ruth to Bikini Beach after her ballet class, and would stay until dark.

"Hrmph!" was Pa's only response.

"Didn't Ma say something about shopping for a suit?" I asked.

"Yes, she did. Maybe she forgot about it. If you'd like, we could go after dinner."

"Sure." I felt antsy about shopping, but after my experience with comfortable dresses, I wanted to replace that horrible suit -- no-no-no, I shut that idea down hard. Wearing a dress to Sunday School and Church was a no-no. "Should I shower and change now?" Eating in my TKD uniform after an hour of TKD and a mile-walk home didn't seem exactly sanitary.

"Sure, go shower." He put the two pizzas onto a sheet and slid them into the oven.

I showered and returned downstairs. The pizzas were done by then. Pa ate two-thirds of one, and I ate the rest. I didn't realize how hungry I was from TKD and walking home.

Mr. Matsumoto called during dinner, asking if Daisy could sleep over with Ruth. "She's with Erin at Bikini Beach, and they're staying until dark. I don't expect them home before nine or so."

"I'll be here, though," I said loudly, hoping Mr. Matsumoto would hear me over the phone. "We could wait 'til tomorrow to go shopping," I added in my normal voice.

Pa said, "We were going to shop for a new suit for Luke, but he says he's fine waiting until tomorrow."

I added, "I could, if necessary, wear that old suit, if necessary, Wednesday night." Then I added, "Or we could stay home from church."

I winced as Pa glanced sharply at me. "Where did you get that idea?"

I remembered my vow not to be embarrassed -- not this subject, I knew, but I decided I wouldn't be intimidated. I straightened up to look back at Pa. "That idea simply occurred to me."

"Not going to happen," replied Pa. "You'd best disabuse yourself."

I recalled that Peter had been barred from church. I could try something like that as well. But did I know enough?

The doorbell rang, and I quickly opened the door. "Daisy!" "Luke!" I lifted her up as I backed off and closed the door. I knew Pa was watching, and I silently flipped off any embarrassment.

I let her down. "Sorry, Ma and Ruth are out. We're having pizza; would you like some?"

"Yeah!"

We sat at the table, with the two pizzas all warmed and ready. "Cheese or pepperoni?" I asked Daisy.

"Pepperoni, please." Daisy licked her chops, as I gave her a slice. "Thank you, Luke!" She took a bite. "Mmm, I love this pizza!"

As we ate, Pa commented, "Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto are attending some kind of social event." Daisy giggled, and Pa said, "Yeah." I did my best to keep a poker face, as I thought back to the two times I as Lucy helped Mrs. Matsumoto dress up. I wasn't supposed to know anything about that. I don't think I would have that first time, where she dressed up as an invisible woman. But the second time... Good thing my hardness was below the table.

Daisy ate a whole quarter of a pizza, and Pa ate three quarters. I ate the equivalent of a whole pizza, although slices were from both pizzas.

After we finished eating and cleaning up, Daisy said, "You wanted to go shopping." I could tell that she was trying in vain to suppress her eagerness.

We, including Daisy, cleaned up dinner, and then Pa left a note for Ma and Ruth telling them that we were going shopping.

Daisy insisted on holding my hand as we went through the mall, except to run up and giggle and squee over something interesting. "Sorry, Mr. Cuttington, but I like holding Luke's hand."

We were in a store specializing in men's suits, hoping to find one that would last me several years. Until I became Lucy, I always thought that Sunday School suits were always uncomfortable; that was just their nature. I'd never thought of mine as badly-fitting.

The salesman told us, "We have suits designed for your young man's special situation. He's probably still in his growth spurt, so the suit can be lengthened and otherwise let out or taken in to fit his future body." He led us off to a side section of the store.

The salesman took a few measurements. I was quite apprehensive, recalling the measurements taken that past Saturday at band. Fortunately, the man and his hands didn't do anything naughty. Following the measurements, he left and returned with a black suit.

As usual, it was an annoying experience trying on a new set of clothes, but also as usual I grit my teeth and did it. The suit was loose on me, but the man took me to a pedestal, and fiddled around, marking bits of chalk on the suit.

"We'd like it ready tomorrow," said Pa.

"We can get the adjustments done by Wednesday midday," replied the salesman.

"I think that will be okay," said Pa.

I changed back into my jeans and t-shirt, and the salesman took the suit, and reboxed it, putting it aside for adjustment.

For a moment, I couldn't see Daisy and felt a burst of horror. She grabbed my hand, startling a yelp out of me. "Daisy! I was worried for a moment."

"Luke, I'd never stray far from you," she replied, dragging me to a hidden corner. "You'd look swell in this."

A male mannequin was modeling a dark green plaid dress with a pleated skirt extending a few inches below his knees. The dress had short sleeves and a button-up collar. The mannequin also wore socks and sneakers. The dress was very different from my dresses as Lucy -- more somber, less pastel. I just stood there looking, until Pa startled me from behind.

"You would look good in that," he said, surprisingly agreeing with Daisy and myself.

"I don't think I could really wear it anywhere, though," I said, pushing aside the beginnings of embarrassment. I would have been more excited if Pa weren't around. Wearing dresses was one of the nice things about being Lucy.

Pa did the business, arranging for the suit to be ready by Wednesday. Pa would join me after TKD Wednesday, and we'd go try it on and take it home if it fit.

We left the store, and once again, Daisy ran up to squee about something in the displays, or something in a shelf behind the displays. "Oh, look!" She came and dragged me to one of the windows. She pointed at something behind the displays. "A `My Little Brony' set! Those men are so adorable!"

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t6023crXgIQ

I approached and leaned down to look at it closer. The box apparently contained two dolls of grown men, shown on the cover as an auto mechanic and an attorney in a background of bright colorful pastel ponies -- colored sort-of like the dresses and shirts I wore as Lucy. Each man held a figurine of a pony.

"Shall we get it?" I asked Pa, who'd come up next to us.

"Why not?" answered Pa.

So we went in. The shelf had an interesting diverse variety of "My Little Brony" boxes. We wound up getting for Daisy an electronic design engineer and an army specialist.

Ma and Ruth weren't home yet, when we got home. Daisy wanted to see her purchase, and I decided to do algebra homework. The algebra teacher was the only one to assign homework the first day of class, and it looked interesting. I included Ruth's writing among my papers. Yes, I knew I was risking something, but I figured Pa would think it part of my school notes. If he got too nosy, or recognized Ruth's handwriting, I could even tell him it was something Ruth wrote. Something I was going to help her with. I also brought a book to read. Daisy and I both went downstairs to the playroom in the basement and sat on the floor.

Five problems were assigned for the initial homework assignment. I began with two; they were quite easy. Then I took a break and started on Ruth's writing.

Dear Luke
 

You've forgotten all this thanks to Bikini Beach, and their "reality shifts".
 

Ma took us to Bikini Beach earlier this summer, beginning in June. She got me an eight-year membership, turning me into a nine-year-old girl, your little sister, Ruth. You always went to BB as well, and Ma got you daily passes -- you became Lucy for the day, then turned back to Luke that night.
 

I think Ma wanted me to live as Ruth until I reached seventeen again, when I'd become Peter again. I'm not sure Ma or Mrs. Winstead really understood how Bikini Beach worked.

Mrs. Winstead? Her?!

"What are you reading?" I jumped, both startled and in guilt. Pa continued, "That looks like Ruth's handwriting."

"Ruth asked me to read this," I said. "It's about summer."

"Like the perennial essay, `What We Did Over the Summer'?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Ruth wrote it before school began, and asked me to read it."

"Ah, okay," answered Pa. "So she was getting ahead in schoolwork. Good for her." I watched as Pa returned upstairs, then continued reading the manuscript -- only to learn that Peter had been falsely accused of rape and murder. What?!

I won't say who the victim was, or who the murderer was. But the police put me through hell of interrogation and seriously messed with my mind. I confessed falsely.
 

Fortunately, DNA testing exonerated me, and prosecution was abandoned.

Apparently, under the malevolent influence of Mrs. Winstead and Firmlove, Ma became irrevocably convinced that Peter had raped and murdered her. I shuddered, feeling really weirded out -- outraged even. It would have served Mrs. Winstead right had I seduced her husband or older son that evening.

Then Ma brought us both to Bikini Beach -- precisely Saturday morning, June 21. Ma didn't tell us where we were going, until we arrived. I was like, WTH?! Doubly-so when Ma got me an eight-year membership while she got you only a daypass.

 
We became girls. And I was introduced to the stark reality of mental malpractice. You became Lucy for the day, and I became nine-year-old Ruth.

And I forgot everything about Peter AND myself, becoming Lucy with her little sister Ruth. Apparently, Ma appeared in the men's changing room, and I abandoned Ruth to Ma's "tender mercies". Apparently, Ma remembered and decided that she would be the only one to remember.

So Ma knew about the magic of Bikini Beach? I never knew that. Hmm...

Yes, Luke. Ma knew about Bikini Beach's magic then. So did Mrs. Winstead. Ma forgot Later thanks to one of their reality shifts. Ma may know about Bikini Beach now, I don't know.

Ma might know that I became a girl? Oh, goodness, no! How could I possibly face her?

I read on. That first weekend, Peter-as-Ruth was shocked, horrified, and furious as hell. Apparently Daisy, whom Peter used to babysit, became Ruth's BFF. And apparently, Ruth almost ruined it in his temper and fury over his transformation.

Daisy ran off in tears. You (Luke) comforted her, and played with her until I came to my senses and realized what I had done. I was able to go down and apologize for my meanness and anger.

 
You saved my friendship.

 
Some time around then, I realized that I should stop complaining and start thinking. I could even enjoy life as a young girl, perhaps.
         .
         .
         .
When Bikini Beach changed me, they also changed the falsely-accused rapist-murderer to a black boy my age or a year older. Tim was Jen's boyfriend. She had joined BB and your friends due to her distress at Tim's arrest.
 

Oh yes, you were with your same friends as now, mostly -- Carol, Vanessa, Becky (Bruce), Jen. A few weren't there before -- Faline, Xena, and Tracy. Tracy was a different person then. And I suspect something about Xena and Jen as great friends. Another girl, Alice Candy, was one of your group. I think you met her at the photoshoot Friday.
 

The photoshoot itself: I demanded proof that the victim was really alive and well -- that it was more than a myth that Bikini Beach's reality shifts undid murders and death. That was the sole reason for the photoshoot.
 

I tried to get Daisy's dad to have Tim's DNA compared with DNA found in the murder victim. I have no idea what happened since, except that the victim is now alive due to the reality shift.
         .
         .
         .
You remember the twins in Sunday School? Bambi and Beth? Before, there was only one, Beth. Their grandmother from church? Before, it was Beth's grandfather. Beth was really sick, and her grandfather had Mrs. P-- hard at work on her case. It wasn't doing any good. I tried to do something, but Ma and Beth's grandfather reacted badly and punitively. I tried contacting Beth's parents. I don't know if anything came of it, or if BB's reality-shift wiped it out.
 

But now it's the twins Beth and Bambi, and their grandmother instead of their grandfather. The twins are a couple years younger, and healthy. Remember that they went to BB last Wednesday? I think that BB did something then.

I admit I was mostly confused. So many things happened that didn't happen? Or something like that. I couldn't make head or tails of it, so I returned to my algebra and finished the assignment.

Then I finished reading Ruth's account. Ugh! Did Ruth really have to remind me of my crush on Brandon Oregon, my clarinet teacher? Seriously, that was really embarrassing. And "Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe"?! I tried thinking about Fab and June instead. That could have been embarrassing as well, Ma and Pa thinking of me and boyfriends, but instead it was just sad.

Daisy came up next to me. "I sort-of remember that time." I was confused. "When you saved my friendship with Ruth. She had never been so angry, so furious. And I had never been so sad. And you were there. You comforted me. You played with me." She leaned against me, and I put my arm around her shoulder. It felt wonderful, and I decided to enjoy the embarrassment.

"That was when I knew," came Ruth's voice behind us. "You were the best big brother ever."

        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. This sequel is finally finished, but chunks of it are still early draft. Consequently, there is NO WARRANTY that this won't be revised as part of the final story.

https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/blog-entry/91306/heads-i-lose goes up ten-fold -- excuse me, an order of magnitude. Grrrrrrr.

        Tuesday, August 26 -- Second Day of School

I awoke with only fleeting images of the nightmare interrupted by my alarm clock -- images of memory, forgetting, mental malpractice, etc. I went to relieve myself and shower.

Daisy and Ruth were heading downstairs as I exited the bathroom to return to my bedroom and get dressed. They were already dressed, Ruth wearing a yellow dress and Daisy in t-shirt and -- what were they called? Gauchos? Loose shorts that went below the knees.

It went without saying that school wasn't going to get us off of the daily Mental Work and Lesson Sermon, as well as a full breakfast. Everyone simply had to get up all the earlier. The Mental Work was played during the breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage.

Ruth whispered in Daisy's ear at one point, when Great-Grandma was reading about the mental malpractioner. I think I heard her whisper, "Bikini Beach". If indeed Bikini Beach did make me completely forget everything that happened, as I'd read in Ruth's writing, that was mental malpractice *par excellence*.

Like yesterday, I walked partway to school with Ruth and Daisy, and then walked the rest of the way to high school. Just before we parted, Ruth said, "I'll be at Daisy's or with friends after school, if you want to go to the library or hang out with your friends at the mall."

Again, just as I arrived, I met up with my friends from Bikini Beach who attended the school as well as their friends. I turned in my algebra homework, and Ms. Aoki said, smiling in apparent surprise and happiness, "Why thank you, Luke!" She reminded me of my girlfriends at Bikini Beach, especially Carol and her smile.

I sat again with the girls from ballet, including Val and Annie. I kept silent mostly as usual. I overheard them talking about all-night rollerskating this Friday. Annie suddenly turned to me and asked, "You'll come, won't you?"

"Um," very much caught by surprise, I found myself quite inarticulate.

"Come on, you'll love it!" said one of the other girls.

"Monday's Labor Day," added another. "There's no school until Tuesday."

"Mmm, I don't know. I don't skate very well." Actually spending all night rollerskating?

"That doesn't matter. It's fun. We'll sleep part of the time anyway."

Eventually, lunch period was over, and we had to return to classes.

After school, I joined Tracy and Bruce on the bus downtown. We separated at the bus station, as I wanted to visit the library again. I hadn't visited it for too long. I had no after-school activities, and only one assignment, due Friday. Oh, I also had to read a story for language arts.

I was brousing through the science fiction section of the teen room, and "This is where we met that first time!" I jumped out of my skin. My hand developed toothmarks when I barely muffled my shriek. It was not good to shriek in a library, not even if startled.

Carol smiled her bright, shining, achingly attractive smile. "Boy, you must have really been caught up in things."

"I just didn't see you there." I gradually caught my breath again, realizing anew how attractive she was.

"This is so weird," she said. "I remember you in this room as both boy and girl. Lucy and -- yes, I remember now you introduced yourself as Luke. That time, here I was browsing for science fiction, and you came with that sexy book."

What could I say to that?

"This time," she continued, "you are browsing for science fiction. But I don't have a sexy novel. I came directly here. By the way, Vanessa and the twins have suggested a reunion Friday night, at the rollerskating all-nighter."

Whoa, that was the second time all-night rollerskating was mentioned. A reunion sounded wonderful. "I'd have to ask Ma and Pa."

I didn't that evening. I chickened out.

Again, Ma took Ruth to Bikini Beach. Apparently, Ruth was reconnecting with her own set of girlfriends her age, including Vanessa's younger sister Helen. Reconnecting from that time I'd completely forgotten, apparently reality-shifted away.

        Wednesday, August 27

There was more talk about the rollerskating all-nighter the up-coming Friday, especially during lunch. At one point, Annie of ballet said to me, "I really hope you come."

Pa picked me up this afternoon from school. We were going to get my new suit, and then I would go to TKD class. The new suit fit very well and looked nice on me; we had no problems there. Taekwondo went okay as well. June was here, and I managed to push aside my regrets and tend to the exercise at hand.

At dinner that evening, I tried to work up the courage to tell Ma and Pa about Friday's rollerskating all-nighter. I'd never attended one of those before, or anything like it.

The phone rang over dinner. "It's Vanessa King, a friend of yours," said Pa.

I took the phone. "Hey, Vanessa. What's up?"

"Hey, Luke. It's good to hear you. We're having a reunion at the rollerskating all-nighter Friday. We hope everyone comes."

"A couple friends were talking about it at lunch in school," I said. "I've been trying to work up the nerve to ask Ma and Pa."

"Ask us what?" asked Pa.

"Friday's rollerskating all-nighter." I handed him the phone, rather uncomfortable and embarrassed about wanting to do something all night with girls, even if it was rollerskating. I felt myself turning just a bit red.

Ruth said, "Daisy's going to the rollerskating all-nighter. I'd like to go as well."

Pa said, "Hmm... Monday is Labor Day. I can't see any reason why not."

After some talk, it was agreed that both Ruth and I could attend.

"You make sure to keep good watch on both girls, Luke," said Ma.

As usual, we had our Wednesday Evening meeting at Church. I wore my new suit. For once, I didn't feel tight and uncomfortable. Ma and Ruth both exclaimed over my appearance.

The Wednesday Evening meeting was boring except for the music. Actually, the first reader's choice of Bible readings was quite interesting. The most boring part came after the second hymn, when people were supposed to give testimonies of Christian Science healing.

After the meeting, a few paritioners complimented my new suit.

        Undated -- Pondering the Bad Guys

GLENN MATSUMOTO PONDERED the cases of Miss Alima and Wendy Levine. He'd forgotten about Miss Alima until he became Glinda that one earlier afternoon. His folder on her case was missing, and her case number had never been assigned. He berated himself now for choosing case numbers at random, rather than in order, although after a moment's thought, he realized that Wendy/James's case number, the only case he'd taken after Miss Alima's, would have shifted down.

Notably, the University had no record of either Miss Alima or Wendy Levine. They had been reality-shifted away, Glenn knew. Wendy Levine was was still around as James Steedman, as Glenn surreptitiously verified. Unfortunately, Glenn knew nothing about what happened to Miss Alima following her interview. He'd rewritten up Miss Alima's case the day after becoming Glinda.

Once magic and reality-shifting were involved, Glenn knew, the situation was beyond the law. Not for the first time, Glenn considered becoming Glinda permanently, and continuing his investigation of the Syndicate as her. But what kind of damage would that do? Ellen's life as Glinda and Daisy's single mother was hard, to say the least. Glenn could demand that Ellen and Daisy remember everything, and that Ellen retain her martial-arts skills. But what would happen with all of their friends? What would happen with Peter and Lucy? At least that scientist remained alive, Glenn himself having been ostensibly murdered in his stead.

The thought led to his wife Ellen. Glenn always tried to distract himself from thinking about her nighttime outings. Otherwise, he'd horrify himself endlessly thinking about the odds eventually catching up with her. Powerful and talented as she was notwithstanding, she needed only one night of bad luck.

        Friday, August 29 -- The Rollerskating All-Nighter

I AWOKE FROM a nightmare and dashed to the bathroom to relieve myself before returning to bed. I couldn't help both dreading and looking forward to the rollerskating all-nighter. I was zooming around the rink in my roller skates and bikini -- I'd gone directly to the skating rink from Bikini Beach. I skated to the applause of the entire entourage of rollerskaters -- wait a minute, I was a boy, so I was only wearing a string Speedo along with my rollerskates. And why the heck was I even showing off to everyone, with my junk poking out?

I awoke again, in a cold sweat, and waited for my junk to soften before pushing it back under my sleepwear. I went to the bathroom again, this time meeting Ruth just coming out. "Nightmare?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"The rollerskating all-nighter?" she continued.

"Uh-huh, the usual." I shuddered as I entered the bathroom.

I woke up again Friday morning from a dream/nightmare involving Friday night's upcoming rollerskating all-nighter.

I was anxious/apprehensive/jittery all day at school. Would I even be able to stay awake while roller skating? Would I be dying to sleep? I'd heard of sleep deprivation as an interrogation tactic.

People were talking about it over lunch. I asked nobody in particular, "Will I be able to even stay awake?"

"Don't worry about it," said someone. "They have blankets for those of us who want to sleep. A lot of us do sleep part of the night."

Since Ruth wasn't going to Bikini Beach this afternoon, and we both wanted to nap in preparation for tonight, the plan was for me to pick Ruth up and take her home by bus.

After taekwondo ended this afternoon, several boys including June proposed that we hang out.

"Sorry," I answered. "I have to pick up my little sister from ballet."

I'm not sure if I heard "Henpecked Big Brother" under the laughter.

I couldn't help feeling agitated. "What's so hard to understand? I *want* to pick up Ruth and go home with her." Cue more laughter from the group.

Surprisingly, after a little more discussion, the boys agreed to join me meeting Ruth.

A crowd of kids exited the ballet studio just as we arrived. Ruth separated from the others and dashed over. "Hey, Luke!" she said, just as I lifted her up for a hug.

"Heh, I get what you meant about picking Ruth up," said June.

"Hey, June." Ruth turned her head toward him. "How's that turning sidekick coming?"
.
It was arranged that Ruth and I would walk to Daisy's house after dinner, and her mom and dad would take us to the rollerskating rink. When we rang their doorbell, the door opened promptly revealing Mr. Matsumoto. "Hey, come on in!"

As we slipped our shoes off, Mr. Matsumoto called out, "They're here!"

Daisy immediately dashed in to greet us, very pretty and attractive in a pink and green skirted leotard and white tights. "Mom's still upstairs changing." She hugged Ruth and jumped upward for a hug with me. I lifted her up. "You look wonderful," I said, feeling a little embarrassed.

Mr. Matsumoto sighed. "Women. Nothing ever changes."

Mrs. Matsumoto arrived a few minutes later, in jeans and a t-shirt. I still couldn't help ogling her.

"Wait a minute, Ellen," said Glenn. Weren't you and Daisy going to wear..."

"I'm sorry, dear. I'd forgotten that Luke was coming with us. That necessitated a change in plans."

"Daddy, you know I want Luke alive, unharmed, awake, and coherent," added Daisy.

"Oh," replied Mr. Matsumoto. "Right."

In short time, we were in their car, driving off to the rollerskating arena. Once we arrived, Mr. Matsumoto arranged for everything, including rollerskates for Ruth and me. Daisy and Mrs. Matsumoto had their own rollerskates. Looking around, I saw some people wearing rollerblades instead of rollerskates.

I had a little trouble putting the rollerskate boots, but I managed. I knew they had to be tight to avoid wobbling my ankles. While preparing myself, I watched everyone already in the rink, very glad Ma and Pa weren't with us. No way would I want them to see how I couldn't help checking out the girls out there skating around. Carol was already skating around as if she were born skating.

"Hey, Luke!" I jumped in startlement, and managed grab the bench before rolling to the floor. Several of my Bikini Beach friends were standing behind me: Vanessa who'd greeted me, Jen, Xena, and Faline.

I hugged them all, then asked, "Are the others coming?"

"Carol's already here," answered Xena, looking out at the skaters. I looked where she looked, and sure enough, there she was, skating around the rink as if she'd skated all her life.

The other Bikini-Beach girls looked at me strangely for a moment, as Vanessa said, "Bruce and Tracy should arrive any minute now."

"Hey, everyone!" said Bruce, with Tracy along side. "Indeed," said Jen, as we all laughed and greeted them and got into a group hug. I slipped and almost fell in my rollerskates. Both Tracy and Bruce wore shorts and t-shirts, Tracy's shorts much shorter and her t-shirt tied at the bottom.

"What's holding us up? Let's go skating!" said Xena, stepping into the rink and zooming off, followed by Jen. "Wait for me, Xena!"

Apparently, I was the only one not to know how to skate. I gingerly stepped down, feeling about to roll and fall at any moment. I kept hold of anything I could grab. I couldn't see Ruth or Daisy anywhere; they were probably out on the floor by now.

Once on the floor, I held the wooden railing that encircled the rink, and slowly skated around. At one point, I decided to let go of the railing and skate on my own. My feet rolled out from under me, and I fell. Someone braked to a stop behind me, I saw it was Carol, now standing tip-toe on the knob and front wheels and leaning over me.

"Luke, you really need to learn how to fall," she said as she helped me up, taking hold of my hand. That felt very nice. She led me off to a corner, and spent the next fifteen minutes showing me how to fall, demonstrating, explaining, and having me practice. At the end, off she skated. "Enjoy yourself, Luke."

I continued to skate, holding the wooden railing, until again, I worked up the nerve to let go and skate on my own. My first surprise was that I managed to stay up a while before I fell. My second surprise was that I automatically crouched and landed in the soft position, head tucked and arms crossed tight in front.

I saw a line of skaters forming, all children. A contest was starting on who could skate underneath a bar, without touching the floor or the bar. I returned to the seats to watch.

A boy squeezed through, with Daisy just behind. I had to push myself, but I managed to stand up and shout, "Yeah Daisy!" Ruth was next. "Yeah Ruth!" I was so unaccustomed to standing up and shouting like an avid fan, or standing up and shouting at all.

When the contest finished, I gingerly stood up to return to the skating floor when I almost bumped into someone. "Oh, excuse--" I froze, recognizing my algebra teacher, of all people!

"Hi there, Luke," she said.

"Oh hi, Ms. Aoki...?" I swallowed, almost choking it out. I could feel my eyes bulging and my face flaming. She wasn't in her teacher's outfit or anything resembling, and even when teaching, her skirt was a bit short for comfort. She was wearing hot-pink form-fitting short-shorts and a sky-blue sports bra.

Ms. Aoki laughed. "It's great to see you, too."

She spurted down to the rink, and I carefully followed.

Ruth and Daisy accosted me as soon as I entered the rink. "We saw you in the audience," said Ruth. "And heard you," added Daisy. "Thanks for the cheering!"

"Any time!" I answered.

There was more free random skating, but then a couples skate was announced. All single lone skaters had to leave the rink. I slowed down and continued skating around the rink toward the nearest exit, prepared to sit and relax and watch the couples.

Just as I was about to exit the skating rink, Daisy took my hand. She was holding Ruth with her other hand. "Let's skate!" she said.

I wondered if Daisy knew that she was helping to stablize my skating. I looked around as we slowly skated around. Many couples had hands on shoulders, hands on waist, with one person skating backwards. A number were outright embracing, and kissing. The music was soft and slow.

"Hey Luke," came Bruce's voice.

"Hi!" I replied, as he passed us holding hands with an older girl. I met both their eyes, and recognized Steph. She must have visited Bikini Beach recently, because her natural form was Stephen who I recalled was eighteen years old.

Bruce was staring at beyond me, on my other side. The girl whispered in his ear, something I just barely heard: "She's quite the hot teacher."

I looked, and sure enough, it was Ms. Aoki with a man who might have been a teacher at school. His hands were on her bare waist, her arms were on his shoulders, around his neck. They were looking in each other's eyes.

Was I jealous? No, not-at-all, I was thoroughly embarrassed. Teacher and hot just didn't go together.

Ruth interjected, "Look! There's Xena, Vanessa, and Jen!" I looked. Those three were skating in a circle, holding hands.

Bruce said, "So she still hasn't changed back to, what's his name? Vernon?"

"Nah, she's not due 'til mid-September," Ruth replied.

We continued slowly skating.

"There's Carol," said Ruth, with a hint of distress in her tone. I looked. Carol was pressed up against another boy, skating backwards and letting the boy skate forwards. I tried to push aside the jealousy I felt for both myself and on behalf of Ruth/Peter. I tried to console myself that things would change once Ruth reverted to Peter.

Someone took my hand, startling me. "Hi, Luke!" It was Annie, the girl from ballet. "May I join you? You look as if you have need of a little consolation."

"Thanks, that's nice." I smiled.

The four of us continued to skate slowly until the end of the couples skate was announced. "Later!" said Annie. "Have fun!"

We skated some more, but then I returned to the seats to rest, beginning to feel quite sleepy. Daisy and Ruth shortly joined me. Ruth got a couple of blankets. We covered ourselves and I descended into a confused slumber.

I awoke noticing something different. I was alone. Looking around, I saw Ruth and Daisy skating together, so I decided to join hem -- after a trip to the bathroom.

We skated more, then returned to the blankets to sleep again.

        Saturday Morning, August 30

I awoke from an uncomfortable sleep, wondering where I was. Ruth and Daisy were still asleep, leaning against me, Daisy on my left side and Ruth on my right.

Some of the clique urged me to go to Bikini Beach. "Your three-day pass is perfect for this three-day weekend," said Vanessa.

"I'm very sorry, guys," I said. "I just don't feel like it." I yawned. Ruth wasn't interested in visiting Bikini Beach either. All three of us wanted sleep. And what kind of Lucy would I turn into, anyway?

We found Daisy's parents, and her mom drove us home. The rest of us dozed, even her dad, I think. When we drove up our driveway, all three of us kids stumbled out and went inside. I wasn't sure if Daisy even realized this was our home.

"Hi kids," Pa greeted us. "How was rollerskating?"

"Fun-fun-fun," I said, yawning and groaning. Ruth yawned and continued, "We're going to sleep now." All three of us scrambled upstairs, to my room and Ruth's room. Daisy almost followed me into my room before correcting course and following Ruth. I went straight to bed.

        The First Week of September

GLENN MATSUMOTO RETURNED to work Tuesday morning, and promptly got down to business. He had so much to catch up on. It took an hour to reply to an Office Action of a patent application. His next project, a litigation motion, took the rest of the morning. He had to be considerably more careful about his wording.

Glenn returned to his office after his lunch break to find a small thin envelope atop a stack of mail. He mentally thanked Darlene, who was still out on her lunch break, for recognizing the letter's importance. He sliced it open and perused the letter. It was a response to an inquiry he'd sent off about a person and a Syndicate event he'd discovered as Glinda. Not surprisingly, things were different.

Fortunately, Glenn could connect the two. He had serious work that afternoon.

        Back to Luke

MONDAY WAS LABOR DAY, giving us an extra free day. I did have piano lessons and Taekwondo, though.

Beginning with Tuesday, we settled into the routine centered around school. I spent a fair amount of time at the library or bookstore, also hanging out with friends. There were Sunday School and Wednesday-Evening meetings, of course, along with the daily Lesson-Sermon and Mental Work.

Ma took Ruth to Bikini Beach several times this week. This was Ruth's final week of membership, and she would become Peter again late Saturday night.

Thursday evening, Daisy's mom called Ma and Pa to ask if Daisy could sleep over Monday night, because they were attending a function Monday night. Daisy was always welcome, of course.

Peter arrived right on schedule, back as my 17-year-old big brother.

        Sunday, September 7

I awoke that morning feeling a certain rush of anticipation. It only took a moment to realize what that something was: Peter was back, if everything went as it was supposed to. Ruth's Bikini-Beach membership ended yesterday.

I was remembering confusing and contradictory things -- Carol and Peter skating close in together at the all-nighter -- but also Carol with another boy, and Ruth with me and Daisy. There was that massive quarrel -- no-no-no-no and no! That didn't happen. I was Lucy.

I took my shower, and dressed in a bathrobe and briefs, reserving for later the change into my suit. I checked; the new suit was still there, thank goodness.

I went downstairs to practice the piano for a while -- nice that a certain amount of Lucy still remained in me, making it easier to sit down and practice my instruments. On the other hand, Lucy's crush on Brandon was gone, thank goodness. Recalling my affectionate treatment of Brandon -- ick!

After I finished practicing, I returned upstairs and encountered Peter in the hallway. He'd already dressed.

As Lucy, I'd hugged Peter. As both Lucy and myself, I'd routinely hugged Ruth -- to the point of making Pa wonder what the heck was going on. Apparently Ruth and I -- Luke -- were supposed to be antsily annoyed with each other.

On the other hand, Peter and I never hugged. Well, time to rectify that. I went up and hugged him hard. Peter promptly hugged me as well.

"Did you enjoy it as Ruth?" I asked as we backed off.

"Yes, I did," answered Peter. "Once I pushed beyond the surprise and strangeness. If you read that thing I wrote, you know that I was Ruth before."

"Yes, of course," I answered.

"That's when I went through a weekend of panic, discomfort, fury, outrage at the injustice." Ah yes, Peter accused then... "But then, yeah. I enjoyed being Ruth. This is rather embarrassing to admit."

"Definitely. I enjoyed Lucy, too. Most of the time," I added, thinking of Fab and June and how they forgot me. "Sometimes, I'm embarrassed as what I was like as Lucy, then remember my vow never to be embarrassed again, and I applaud Lucy. I'm still trying to stick to that vow," I added.

"Hey, great for you," said Peter. "I'm all for that, just be careful about getting into serious trouble." Peter had said that to me as Lucy.

"Yes, I agree."

We talked some more, and he mentioned how I was three different Lucys.

"Oh?"

"You don't remember your first Lucy. I think your third Lucy--"

"When you became Ruth?" I interjected.

"Yeah, then. Your third Lucy wasn't too different from your first Lucy, but your second--"

"Hot and perpetually horny. Definitely with Fab and June. Pa, too. And you." Take that, embarrassment!

"I was about to say, `Sexually aggressive.'"

We talked futher. Peter had relatively little to say about being Ruth. I expressed my dismay at having been forgotten by June and Fab.

"I became Ruth," he replied, "uninvolved with Taekwondo. June no longer recognized your name that day at the transit center, and you no longer recognized June either."

Peter was still barred from church and Sunday School, and was obviously happy about it. As usual, I got into my suit -- still the good new one -- and went to the very boring and nonsensical Sunday School class, followed by the boring church service.

Ma did her usual socializing after church, but we finally went home.

Shortly after we entered from the garage door, the doorbell rang. I got there first. "Daisy!" It was wonderful to see her, and I picked her up for a hug and carried her in. I continued holding Daisy with her arms around me, and even kissed her cheek, with Ma, Pa, and Peter looking on. No, I told myself, I wasn't going to be embarrassed. I gave a defiant look at them all.

"You're so handsome in that suit!" said Daisy, as I let her down. "Hey, let's go down and find a board game! "You too, Peter."

"Go ahead," said Ma. "Dinner won't be ready for a little while. But be sure to come up when you're called. You're welcome to join us as well, Daisy."

As I picked out and removed Sorry from the shelf of games, Daisy said, "Ruth, you're Peter now."

I saw Peter's faint blush as I turned toward them with the game. "Peter, no need to be embarrassed. We both knew -- um, know."

"Yah, I know. It's not something I can control. Not fully, at least."

"I vowed I would never be embarrassed again," I said. "It's very hard, especially as Luke now. But I keep reminding myself of my vow. Daisy, you're not going to have any more nightmares, I hope, are you?" I shuddered.

"No, not any more. Before, when I was having those nightmares, Ruth was gone. She didn't exist. But now, Ruth's Peter, or Peter's Ruth, or Ruth is in Peter. I'm confused."

"All of the above," replied Peter, laughing. "What's not confusing about Bikini Beach?"

We all laughed.

After more talk about being Lucy and Ruth, Daisy asked Peter, "I wonder, did Ruth exist before this summer? I mean, I remember being best friends forever, and I remember you, Peter, my favorite babysitter. And now Luke." She turned toward me and smiled.

Peter froze a moment. "I couldn't say," he articulated slowly. "Ma had me changed because I was accused of a crime -- and then exonerated. That means that they showed that I didn't commit the crime. And then the crime didn't happen. Bikini Beach changed everything."

We never got to the game. Ma shortly called us up to dinner.

After dinner, we returned downstairs. Once Ma and Pa were out of hearing, Daisy told us, "I told Mom and Dad that I was going over to visit friends. That wasn't a lie, but Mom thinks I'm outside playing with friends my age. I really should go before Mom and Dad catch me."

"Your parents accept Luke and me as your favorite babysitters," said Peter. "They really won't mind."

"Hey, I'll join ya," I said. "Just let me change out of this suit." I dashed upstairs to my room and quickly changed into shorts and a t-shirt.

"Have fun, both of you." Peter waved his hand.

We did, the whole rest of the afternoon.

"Seeya tomorrow at dinner!" shouted Daisy to me as we separated for supper, which consisted of snack for my family.

Oh-oh-oh, right. I realized that Daisy wasn't sleeping over with Ruth, but rather I would be babysitting her instead.

        Monday, September 8

After returning home from TKD, I showered and changed out of my TKD uniform into clean clothes. It was close to dinner at Daisy's house, so I went over.

After a nice dinner, Mrs. Matsumoto -- Ellen -- asked Daisy and me to help her dress up for the night. "Um," I responded dumbly, trying to avoid looking Ellen up and down. "I-I-I-I th-think [breath] I'll pass [breath] on it." I remembered the previous times, manhandling Ellen in her bra and panties.

That first time, a month ago, was particularly distressing because I had run here after a blazing argument with Peter. I'd fallen for Carol, and he'd lured her away. No-no-no, that never happened. It was a lie! A false memory! A phony!

"Why not?" asked Ellen. "You've helped me before, twice! What's so disturbing now?" No, she did not just flutter her eyebrows! No, no, no, just my imagination.

"That was Lucy, both times!" Interjected Daisy.

"What are you talking about, Daisy?" asked Ellen.

"Luke went to Bikini Beach--"

"Oh, right."

"And I want Luke awake and fun this evening. Not conked out. He's going -- What's the word? Comotose? Even now!"

"Fine," said Mrs. Matsumoto. "Daddy's still home. He'll get to dress me up instead."

We went downstairs to play until we agreed it was time to go to bed. Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto had long previously left for their function. I went to the bathroom to change into my pajamas, and found a blanket.

I joined Daisy in her room and lay the blanket on the floor. Daisy was in bed and I was about to borrow one of her pillows when she said, "Luke, join me in bed. It's more comfortable than the floor."

"No, Daisy. That would be most inappropriate."

"Hey, you did it before when babysitting me."

"I was Lucy then."

"And that's different how?" asked Daisy with fake innocence.

I froze, tongue-tied, my mind betraying me. Daisy giggled. She knew perfectly well how different that was.

"Um, okay." I slipped under the covers next to her, lying on my back, trying to tell myself how so wrong this was, no matter how happy I felt.

We lay silently a few minutes until Daisy said, "Mom's trying to seduce you."

"Oh?" I twisted my legs and bent my knees to avoid tenting the covers. "Your dad would kill me."

"No, worse. I'd kill Mom." She slid closer and took my hand. We lay in silence for the moment. "I really must remember that you were Lucy those other times," she eventually said.

        Tuesday, September 9

I woke up in my bed the next morning -- wait, what? My bed in my bedroom at home? Wasn't I with Daisy at her house? I clambered out of bed, urgently wanting to check up on her.

Ruth was dashing out of her room, "Gotta call Grandmother," she wheezed as she passed me. Daisy came behind her slower, and stopped when she reached me. "Peter changed to Ruth last night."

"I kinda figured that out," I replied.

Ma appeared at the bottom of the stairs, just as Ruth bounded down the stairs, just managing to stop before colliding with Ma. "Bikini Beach's Anya wants to talk with you pronto."

"Thanks, Ma." Ruth ducked under Ma's arms, and next thing I heard, she was greeting Anya over the phone.

I decided against listening to Ruth's side of the conversation, and went to the bathroom instead. I still had school to attend; it was one of those days. I dressed quickly and went down for breakfast.

At the bottom of the stairs, Ruth accosted me. "Anya and Grandmother want me to meet them at Bikini Beach right after school. Apparently, changing to Ruth is a manifestation of something they worried over ever since the permanent membership was undone: wild magic has activated."

"I could meet you on the way home, where we usually separate when going to school. Fortunately, I have no activities today. We could take the bus."

"I'll pick her up at school," said Ma. "I still have that membership."

So that was decided. Nevertheless, after school, I stopped there hoping to meet Daisy. Sure enough, she was there with a dozen of her friends. "There's your big boy," shouted a boy in the distance, louder than necessary I was sure, intentionally loud enough for me to hear.

"Hi, Luke!" Daisy ran toward me, obviously unembarrassed, followed by her friends. I remembered my vow against embarrassment, and Daisy was beautiful. I lifted her up to greet her. "Hey, Daisy!"

"Your Ma came and picked Ruth up." She said softly, "They were going to Bikini Beach, to talk about Peter."

"Ma said that?" So Ma knew what was going on with Bikini Beach? Very interesting.

I let Daisy down, and we walked toward our houses, joined by a number of Daisy's friends. They decided to play outside in someone's yard, and I thought to myself, what the heck. Homework and clarinet and piano practice could come later; I joined them.

I went home in time for dinner, and even got in a little piano practice just beforehand. I was trying to keep Lucy in mind. Ma and Ruth got home while I was practicing.

I was itching with curiosity over dinner, but Pa was with us and I couldn't ask. But we got to talk after dinner. Mom got out "Science and Health" and sat in the living room to read, Ruth and I went upstairs and into her room. She closed the door and said, "Grandmother and Anya blame the wild magic. My return as Peter apparently aroused it. That's really all they could say, even though I kept asking questions. They just didn't know."

"So you're stuck as Ruth now?"

"We have no idea. None of us do. Grandmother said she would study the situation. I got the impression that, while Grandmother knows more about magic, Anya is the more powerful of them." Later, Ruth said, "On the way home, Ma told me that we could only pray and `Know the Truth.' That may be all we can do."

We wound up doing nothing, and Ruth stayed with us and attended fourth grade -- until I woke up Saturday morning to find Peter with us. What a relief! They'd apparently solved the problem.

Grandmother called us, and spoke with Peter. I sat in the kitchen, following Peter's side of the conversation. My initial optimism decayed to a depressed pessimism as the phone call progressed. Once Peter hung up, he said, "They're no closer to stopping or taming the wild magic than before. This change was part of it. They have no idea whether or how I'll change again, nor any idea if others have been affected."

Peter departed for places unknown, and returned for lunch with Carol in tow. I was in the living room practicing the piano, and when I finished my piece, I jumped when Carol said, "Hey, Luke!"

"Carol!" I turned and held my hand out for a handshake. She shook my hand, then put her arms around my shoulders and pressed against me. I let my arms encircle her waist, observing Peter out the corner of one eye. I thought back to that time I'd run off in fury and distress to my babysitting appointment at Daisy's, because Peter had taken Carol from me -- no, no, no-no-no, that never happened!

Life continued on, and Peter changed to Ruth Tuesday night or Wednesday morning. "I don't mind being Ruth," she said. "I just want to know what's going on! What will happen when I leave for Pacific Tech? Will I hop between here and California every few days?"

I shrugged; clearly she didn't expect an answer anyway.

        Friday Night, September 19

Daisy was sleeping over, and she was in bed with Ruth. I sat on the floor next to their bed, and was reading them a story, when Ma opened the door. "Luke, it's their bedtime now. Time to depart." I noticed it was almost midnight. Fortunately, it was a Friday night.

As I stood up to leave the room, Daisy requested, "Luke, kiss me goodnight." I leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. I was about to kiss Ruth as well, when I noticed that we were in Daisy's bedroom. It was dark with a soft nightlight, along with streetlight through the window. Ruth was nowhere to be seen.

Apparently, I was babysitting Daisy that night.

"Did Ruth just become Peter again?" asked Daisy.

"Yeah," I said. This was getting quite annoying.

"Get in bed with me," said Daisy. "Keep me warm. Protect me from nightmares."

I was hiking in Rattlesnake Canyon with my cousin. I could hear their loud buzzing rattles all around, including one somewhere in the brush right next to me. Where could I step, to avoid treading on it. Wait a minute! I was informed that Rattlesnake Canyon didn't have rattlesnakes any more than anywhere else.

A piercing scream of pain coming from right next to me yanked me awake. Daisy was screaming, the rattler buzzing was continuing from my nightmare, and in the soft light, I noticed a third bedmate: a snake!

I whipped the sheet and blankets off, while yanking Daisy up and off the bed. I heard other buzzing outside the bedroom door; there was no escape that way. It had to be the window.

"Daisy, hold onto me. Hard. We have to climb out the window." Fortunately, both the window and the screen were easy to open. The snake bit my ankle, and I couldn't help screaming as I shoved the screen up. The security alarm sounded -- good, the police should come and do something about the rattlesnakes, was my thought as I slid through the window.

I managed to lower myself until I was hanging by my hands from the window sill. It was going to be a nasty fall, and my ankle hurt like blazes, but I had to do it. I let myself fall. Fortunately, I landed on my good leg, and fell to the ground, avoiding landing on Daisy.

I let go of Daisy for a moment, while I scrambled to stand up. Despite my hurt leg, I managed to pick her up. I made my way to the next-door house, and rang the bell. Fortunately, someone answered the door immediately.

"Please, call 911," I pleaded. "Both Daisy and I are hurt."

He glanced at my ankle. "Snakebite, fangs. I'm calling now. He stepped to a phone and dialed."

"Please hurry! I think Daisy got it worse," I begged.

The man returned. "Lay on the sofa, both of you. They're coming; just relax." I made my way to the sofa, and Daisy kept holding me even after I lay down. I was half awake, and sort-of noticed being tied to a stretcher.

        Saturday, September 20

I awoke from a nightmare of being surrounded by gargantuan crocodiles and poisonous snakes, to noise of people talking softly around me. Where was I? I was lying on a long chair in a waiting room, and people were crying around me. It came back to me: our snakebites, our escape from the house to the neighbor's house, a bit of the ambulance trip to the hospital.

"The boy's awake now," someone said.

Mr. Matsumoto approached tearfully.

"How's Daisy?" I asked, fearing the worst.

"The snake was an eastern diamondback rattler. Daisy didn't make it, I'm sorry."

I collapsed and couldn't help bawling. I never realized one could feel such horrid grief. Someone tried to wrap his or her arms around me, but I twisted away. I didn't want to be consoled; I wanted Daisy alive!

"Luke, you did more than anyone could expect," Mr. Matsumoto tearfully said.

"I should have died and she should have lived!" I bawled. "I should have babysat her at our house instead! If Ruth were here, Daisy would have lived!"

"Ruth?" asked Mr. Matsumoto.

"Never mind," I said, seeing a ray of hope. "Where's the bathroom?"

"Down that hallway," answered one of the nurses. I made my way to the bathroom and took a leak, then turned and continued down the hall until I found an exit sign.

The elevators drove me crazy with waiting, but I finally caught one. I reached the ground floor, and eventually found my way out of the hospital.

Then I ran, even limping. I spotted a major street, and ran toward it, hoping to find a bus stop. I checked -- oh, good, I had my wallet with my bus card, along with my babysitting money. I did find a bus stop, and waited anxiously, clinging to the hope that Bikini Beach would save Daisy. I kept fearing that someone might stop me, or that Bikini Beach might not do it.

An empty cab drove by. Not sure if it would work, I hailed it like in the stories. He stopped for me. "What's the fare to Bikini Beach?"

The driver quoted a number. Fortunately, I had over twice that in my wallet. I checked, just to be sure, and handed that amount over. "It may be somewhat more or less. You do know, I hope, that Bikini Beach is for women only."

"Please hurry. It's an emergency!"

The cab shot off.

We arrived at the Bikini Beach drop-off area. Anya was waiting. I hoped, boy I hoped, she would help. The fare turned out a bit less than what I'd paid, but I added twenty dollars for good luck.

"Please, Anya!" I couldn't help bawling again, and could hardly speak. "Daisy dead. Ruth. Lifetime memb- memb- Realkahrihghs," I degenerated into incoherence.

I was suddenly calmer. "Luke, things aren't as immediately urgent as they seem, I promise you. I've picked the problem from your mind, but I would like you to state it yourself."

"Okay." I breathed heavily and tried to collect my thoughts. "Last-- yesterday evening, Daisy was at our house, planning to sleep over with Ruth. Ruth shifted to Peter, and I shifted to babysitting Daisy at her house."

"Early this morning, Daisy got bit by a snake." I couldn't help crying again. "A rattlesnake -- diamondback, very poisonous. She screamed and woke me up. One was in her room, another outside in the hallway, others in the house." I was bawling again, and I had trouble continuing. "We escaped out the window, and went home. We called 911 and went to the hospital. Daisy..." I couldn't continue, bursting anew into tears.

I felt calm again.

"You were bit as well," commented Anya. "You're still limping."

"That doesn't matter. I have to become Ruth, with the full reality-shift. If Ruth had existed, Daisy would have slept over, and been safe. It doesn't even have to be a pass or membership. Just the change and reality shift." I looked down.

Anya raised my chin with one finger, and looked squarely in my eyes with a piercing intensity. "You do realize the implications, Luke?"

"Yes. Daisy's dead. If Ruth were there, she'd be alive. That's all that matters." I briefly thought of Ruth and Peter shifting back and forth -- would Daisy shift between alive and dead? I had no idea. I didn't want that. Anya looked down at me. Was I missing something?

I got out the rest of my money. "I'm very sorry, it's all I have. I know it isn't enough." Anya kept looking blinkless at me, and I still felt as if I were missing something. "It's forever," I finally said. "But that doesn't matter. Only Daisy."

Anya relaxed and smiled. "You are right; Daisy would be alive." Anya led me inside to one of the booths, did something with a computer, and gave me a card. "The only reason I'm accepting your money as payment is that your money will be reality-shifted out of existence anyway."

I ran to the men's changing room, stripped down -- I didn't bring a swimsuit, of course -- and showered. I shrank down, and felt my body shift. Ruth was now in the mirror. I returned to my locker, and found Ruth's clothes in place of mine: tee-shirt, shorts, panties, socks, and sneakers.

A very tall Anya entered as soon as I was dressed. "Anya!" Oh God, I hoped this worked.

"Luke, Ruth," said Anya. "The first good news is that Daisy is now alive and well, staying at your house."

"Oh, thank God!" I whispered.

"The second good news is that the wild magic has settled down into your transformation, and won't be shifting Peter and Ruth repeatedly any more, and the rest of us are out of its danger.

"The third good news is that Beth is still healthy, living with her twin sister in New York City, and her change is sticking."

I vaguely remembered what must have been a memory of Ruth's, pressing everyone I thought of to fix Beth.

"The unpleasant news is that Peter, Carol, and Daisy's parents are confronting Grandmother in her office. We should meet them there."

I followed Anya out of the men's changing room to the office.

On the way, I asked, "How much will I remember of myself as Luke?"

"Pretty much everything. Sometime's you'll have to push to remember something, but you will remember when you want to. However you have to enter Ruth's life as smoothly as possible."

        After Luke's Departure

GLENN AND ELLEN were sobbing in each other's arms. Of all the things that could have happened, why Daisy? Glenn had momentarily gained control of himself when he called Peter to give him the bad news, and again when Luke finally woke up.

Luke had bawled his eyes out, and had babbled incoherently -- and then gone to the restroom. Glenn and Ellen had gone back to their own crying, and only noticed the world around him when Peter appeared, accompanied by Carol.

"Sorry I took so long. I thought Luke might need Carol at this time, and I thought she should know. And I need her too." Peter was trying to hold in his crying, and Carol was sobbing. "Where is Luke, anyway?"

"He went to the restroom -- about twenty minutes ago. I guess he hasn't come out yet, he might just want to be alone."

"Where? I'll go check on him."

"That way," answered Glenn.

Peter left, only to return about a minute later. "He isn't there."

"What do you think he might have done?"

"I hope he didn't go and do something stupid or rash," said Peter. "Did he say anything?"

"He yelled incoherently while crying when we first told him the bad news," said Glenn.

"It wasn't incoherent," said Ellen. "What he said was quite natural. Only that last bit, `If Ruth were here, Daisy would have lived,' was in any way incomprehensible."

"Oh crap, he's probably on his way to Bikini Beach," said Peter. "We have to get there before him, before he ruins his life. I'll explain along the way." Peter looked around, lowered his head to them, and spoke in a hushed tone. "Daisy may yet survive this."

"Nurse?" called out Glenn. "Something's come up and we have to go. We'll be back though. If Luke's still here and comes looking for us, have him wait here, please." Glenn was hoping against hope that he was lying about returning. Would Bikini Beach be able to change something so that Daisy was never killed? Would they be willing to? He thought back to his time as Glinda and his murdered client.

Glenn, Ellen, Carol, and Peter all went out to Glenn's car. On the way, Glenn left another message for Luke with the front desk.

"Luke has to take the bus, and change downtown. We'll probably make it there before him," Peter said as the four of them got in the car.

Once they got on the freeway, Peter explained: "All of you know about Bikini Beach transformations -- and about their reality shifts, including reality shifts that change whether someone lives or dies." He paused an instant while everyone nodded. "Thanks to Bikini Beach, I've been sporadically Ruth half the time and Peter half the time. Luke's probably going to try to become Ruth permanently. If we get there before Luke, I'll become Ruth instead."

"What difference will that make?" asked Glenn.

"When I'm Ruth, I'm Daisy's age and we're best friends. Daisy always sleeps over whenever you're out. She won't be in the house with the snakes and won't get bitten. I'm proud of Luke for realizing that, even though I wish he'd waited for me. Ruth is me, not Luke."

We'll just see about that, Glenn thought to himself, even as hope surged. If he had anything to say about it, neither Luke nor Peter would ruin their lives to save Daisy. Glenn would demand to be transformed himself. It was his responsibility; he was Daisy's father.

He drove up to the drop-off area in front of the entrance ticket booths and the office building. As they got out, Glenn said, "Ellen, I'm needed. Could you park the car? You might sneak a bit."

Ellen drove off, and Glenn, Peter, and Carol went to the office building. Grandmother came out before they reached the entrance, sporting a sober expression. "Please come in, Mr. Matsumoto, Peter, Carol." Grandmother escorted them into her office.

"I'm so very sorry about what happened to Daisy," she said. "But rest assured, she's alive and fully well now, although in serious horror, at your house, Peter, away from the snakes. I'm sorry, but Luke already arrived, and we gave him the lifetime change to Ruth. She will be here shortly."

All three of them, Glenn, Peter, and Carol froze silent in horror at Luke's sacrifice, even as Glenn was elated and relieved to hear that Daisy was now fine.

Carol burst into tears and buried her face in Peter. Peter looked about ready to cry, but instead he said angrily, "Couldn't you have waited, instead of going along with his impulse, and ruining his life? I am fundamentally Ruth, and I should have become Ruth instead to save Daisy's life."

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

AS ANYA AND I approached the office, I saw Mrs. Matsumoto standing against the wall next to the open door, absolutely still and silent, listening to the argument inside.

Peter was saying angrily, "... along with his impulse, and ruining his life? I am fundamentally Ruth, and I should have become Ruth instead to save Daisy's life."

Mr. Matsumoto replied, "I'm responsible for Daisy's care and welfare. If anyone had to change to save Daisy's life, it should have been me. Both Luke and Peter are young men with their entire futures in front of them."

Grandmother said in a projected tone, "Welcome, Luke and Anya. Come in! You too, Mrs. Matsumoto. Have a seat, all of you."

We followed Mrs. Matsumoto in. Carol was crying, her face buried in Peter. Peter's fury was plain on his face, and he looked as if he were trying hard to avoid crying.

Grandmother continued, "Luke has a lifetime membership, and is now Ruth. I would normally tell you that the change was irreversible, but Peter would lay into me--"

"That's for sure," interrupted Peter. "You changed Tracy Miura to eliminate Jill's murder and revert me to Peter, despite my own lifetime pass as Ruth. I thank you for that. I really hope you can find a way to reverse Luke's change. I should be Ruth instead."

Carol leaned away from Peter, and looked at him, apparently aghastly curious.

Mr. Matsumoto said, "As I said earlier, I'm her father, responsible for her welfare. I should make the sacrifice." Mr. Matsumoto pulled out his wallet and extracted a credit card. "Name your price. I'm even willing to pay for Luke's original transformation, so that you don't lose anything."

"The price would be in magic, not in money," replied Grandmother. "Please listen to everything I have to say, before interrupting. We don't know what the consequences would be, but they're potentially severe enough that no amount of money would undo them. The reality-shift associated with Tracy's transformation did not simply eliminate the magic of Peter's transformation and lifetime pass. Instead, it remained hidden until triggered by Peter's change again at Bikini Beach. Peter's inadvertent transformation to Ruth again that time was the magic returning to him. After his guest membership ended, Peter reverted as scheduled, but then every two or three days, he shifted to and from Ruth. You don't remember this, Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto, because they were accompanied by reality-shifts. However, Luke and Carol both remember, because they accompanied Peter in his original change."

Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto's expressions changed to surprise. Apparently, they just remembered now. I continued to listen with avid interest.

"Luke's change to Ruth has absorbed and settled the magic."

"You know what this means?" said Peter. "We could have simply waited until I became Ruth again. Luke and I would have discovered Daisy now alive, and I could have come demanding to be Ruth permanently. The magic then settles, perhaps even more reliably than with Luke becoming Ruth."

Would I have been as horrified at Peter being Ruth forever, as Peter seemed to be at my becoming Ruth?

Grandmother asked Peter, "Are you sure you really would have come and demanded to be Ruth forever, to save Daisy?"

Peter didn't answer.

"Peter, I don't know about you, but I would have gone through two horrible days," I said.

Grandmother continued, "Luke was the right person for the sacrifice, despite his impulsive decision -- indeed, because of his impulsive decision. In principle, we could take several months to decide who might change to prevent Daisy's death. The problem is that we become accustomed to Daisy's absence, and the sense of urgency and importance disappears.

"Even more to the point, if one thinks about it and tries to go about it rationally, the negative implications become paramount and nobody would actually do it. With Luke, Daisy was uppermost in his mind, the only thing of importance at this point.

"Peter, you have finished high school, and are just about to begin college. Shifting you back to Ruth would have lost that, although you might have been able to find an early high-school or college program. Nevertheless, had you come first instead of Luke, mad with grief but following a beacon of hope, we probably would have changed you."

"I admit," said Peter, "that the idea didn't occur to me until Luke disappeared. I'm proud of him for thinking of it, even though I wish he had let me do it instead."

"A-hem, that should have been me," growled Mr. Matsumoto.

"Mr. Matsumoto," asked Peter. "Did you even know about Bikini-Beach reality shifts undoing deaths?"

"Actually, yes. I found out that afternoon as Glinda. I -- Glenn -- was murdered instead of someone else."

"What?!" I exclaimed, along with almost everyone else. Then I remembered suggesting Bikini Beach about that boy in his office.

"Mr. Matsumoto," said Grandmother. "It's quite possible that changing you to Glinda might have been the best option. Only a minimal amount of that reality's history need change. Unlike that afternoon before, Mrs. Matsumoto would remember this, and retain her talents and and physique. Both you and Mrs. Matsumoto would have to trust me, though.

"In any case, it's too late now, because Luke is now Ruth, and I wish to avoid the wild magic acting up again and getting even worse, posing a serious danger to everything -- reality as a whole, even.

"Those with further complaints: what's done is done; live with it. Be happy that Daisy is now alive and fully well at the Cuttingtons' house.

"Peter, your Ma and Pa are furious and terrified, about Ruth running off early in the morning," Grandmother continued. "They'll want to thrash her within an inch of her life when she gets home. Peter, you must call and tell them that you're with Ruth." She handed Peter a cordless phone.

"Excuse me, everyone," he said, leaving the room. "I wish to call in private."

I tried to shut down my curiosity about their conversation, and mostly succeeded. A few minutes later, Peter returned and handed the phone to Mr. Matsumoto. "Pa wants to talk with you. You as well, Mrs. Matsumoto. Pa knows about the rattlesnakes at your house."

Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto both followed Peter's example and left the room.

"Daisy remembers Luke carrying her out the window, escaping the rattlesnakes. Mrs. Cuttington thinks it was a nightmare, and Daisy isn't sure."

Mrs. Matsumoto faced Peter and then me. "Both of your parents suffer from a lack of curiosity about how Daisy would have a nightmare of rattlesnakes just when they appeared at our house."

I didn't know what to say. Peter said nothing as well.

"One last thing. I wish to discuss the case with Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto privately. Carol, Peter, Ruth-Luke, don't eavesdrop on us. Anya has summoned Luke's Bikini Beach friends, and is waiting outside with them. They've just learned of Luke's sacrifice and why, and Anya's making sure they all remember Luke.

"Good-bye, Grandmother," said Carol as she stood up.

"I'm sorry about my rudeness," said Peter.

"I fully understand," said Grandmother. "You had good reason." They shook hands. "Good-bye." She turned to me. "Young Luke, Ruth, I'm very proud of you for doing what you had to do, to save Daisy. I'm also very sorry that you had to do it. Good-bye."

I was blushing hard. We shook hands, and I said, "Good-bye, Grandmother."

We went out the front and saw Anya with--

"Oh my, is that really you in there, Luke? And Lucy?" asked Vernon, formerly Vanessa. I'd never seen him as Vernon before. The whole gang was there! Vernon, Bruce, Tracy, Faline, Xena, and Jen!

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

ONCE GLENN, ELLEN, and Grandmother were alone, Grandmother said, "Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto, a mage teleported the rattlesnakes into your house. I'm not certain, but I think it was the same mage who originally gave us James Steedman, the boy whom you consulted me about, Mr. Matsumoto. I don't think that Daisy was targeted. I think that if she had been, the snakes in this reality would have been teleported to the Cuttington's house. Also, that night until around midnight, Peter was Ruth and Daisy was sleeping over.

"In that case, changing Luke wouldn't have worked, and honestly, I don't know what we might have done.

"Nevertheless, your syndicate went too far, with Daisy's death. I promise my help and Bikini Beach's help and resources in going after that syndicate. We will go after them in any case, and we should coordinate our acts. I hope that you realize that with their use of magic, you need a magic user to fight them."

"Thank you," said Glenn. "I accept your help." He stood up and reached out to shake Grandmother's hand, and they shook hands. "There is one, perhaps hypothetical, issue. We may be able to win a legal case, or get a settlement that results in a major legal fee for me -- or perhaps even a minor fee that helps offset expenses. We should discuss and settle now how to divide any such gain with Bikini Beach, even if simply to offset expenses.

"If you won't let me pay for Luke's lifetime membership, at the very least, please include that in your expenses for this case. I'm going to include any expense remotely connected to the case, such as any support I provide for Ruth's education, health, and maintanance. I urge you to as well."

"Of course. I understand," said Grandmother.

It took only a few minutes to write up an agreement.

"I owe Luke/Ruth more than anything I could do. A co-worker once advised me that it could come to no good for Daisy's favorite babysitter to be a young teenage boy. I sorely regret being unable to tell him how wrong he was. It was probably too much to say that I could trust Luke with Daisy's life, but when it came to that, Luke came through."

Glenn found himself remembering things that hadn't occurred to him: the widely-publicized rape/murder of popular high-school student Jill Denison, Peter's charge with the murder, Peter's exoneration followed by Bikini Beach's transformation of him to Ruth, his own complete forgetting of Peter, Timothy Anderson as the suspect, Glenn's own challenge of Grandmother with Peter/Ruth's family, Anderson's release on bail, his murder, and the arrest of the actual murderer -- followed by everything changing. More recent memories included Peter as Ruth for a few weeks, followed by Peter and Ruth switching back and forth.

Ellen's head was in her arms on the desk. She was weeping. "Oh, Ellen!" said Glenn, all distressed now. Glenn put his arms around her, and she rose to cry on his shoulder.

"That day you went to Bikini Beach... and Glinda returned home that night. I discovered that my entire life was all a lie. Just before we went to bed, I was terrified that Glinda would disappear from my life, and I would completely forget her. And sure enough, she disappeared, and I forgot her." She bawled out some more. "You have no idea what it is for a woman to raise a child from birth, only to have that child disappear on you forever -- and to realize that you'd completely forgotten her."

Glenn patted her shoulder. "At least you remember now. And Glinda never disappeared. I was her, at least that afternoon and evening. And I still have some memories of Glinda's life before."

Grandmother said, "I think that both of you need the full summer's events, to understand Ruth and her significance -- and to remember how we met and interacted earlier. Peter remembers it all because the magic went wrong when he returned here and became Ruth again. Luke's Ruth remembers nothing before Tracy Miura's change. Daisy has hints of the memories. Nobody else does outside of Bikini Beach.

"It was a dark time in general, but for Peter's Ruth in particular, as well as the victims and their relatives and friends. As you probably remember now, Peter suffered pretty much every sin you associate with me and my practice at Bikini Beach, and I'm very sorry for it. That time has been shifted away, and I wish it to remain so."

"That means that Jill Denison is alive now? And Timothy Anderson?" asked Glenn.

"Yes, they're both alive and well now," answered Grandmother. "However, Tim has been transformed. As far as most are concerned, Tim doesn't exist and has never existed."

"One last thing," she continued. "Mrs. Matsumoto, you'll be able to say your former male name."

"Thank you very much," said Ellen. "Grandmother, it's confession time. Shortly after I gave birth to Daisy, I began a program of martial arts training. I'd done martial arts while growing up as Alan, and even managed to get a black belt in karate. Thankfully, as Ellen, I'd gone to a girls boarding high-school, and earned my black belt there.

"My reason for restarting martial arts? Well, getting my figure back was the excuse I initially gave, but some time later, I started another level of training involving speed, stealth, invisibility at night, and avoiding notice in general, and even a certain type of hypnotism. Dark stuff, although completely non-magical -- similar to the popular perception of the ninja. From Bikini Beach, I knew that magic existed, so I thought to learn to cover my secret thoughts with surface thoughts. I also trained as a private investigator.

"My reason? My long-term goal was to take revenge on you by the time I turned thirty. I dropped that goal several years back, when I found myself fighting more immediate crime. Now, when you saved my daughter's life, I'm so sorry for thinking bad about you and plotting revenge." Ellen started crying again.

"I'm ... speechless," said Grandmother.

A moment later she said, "You still have your jobs to do. Ruth and Daisy need both of you, as well as Peter, and Carol. Daisy is still highly frightened at her own brush with death, Ruth and Peter's Ma can't console her, hard as she tries; she thinks it was only a nightmare.

"Ruth will also need you and her friends. The enormity and irrevocability of what she did is going to hit her hard, and Daisy won't be able to console her. And her Ma in particular's going to want to kill her for causing her so much worry in disappearing. We may have to restore both parents' memories of Luke, Peter, and the old Ruth.

"One last thing about Daisy. I think you know that she resists reality shifts. She is a latent mage, and her abilities have been appearing and growing rather fast over the summer, because of the magic surrounding her and influencing her. She needs training, and she may attract mages of all sorts, including evil ones who would control her or train her in the dark arts. It would be best if you found a trustworthy mage to apprentice her to."

Grandmother turned to Ellen. "This may be your department, Mrs. Matsumoto. You may be able to search out and investigate mages." She turned back to both. "Now off, both of you, and do your duty."

Both Ellen and Glenn said their good-byes and departed.

"Anya, please come in," said Grandmother.

"Grandmother," said Anya. "I'm not certain the wild magic is settled. It may simply be that in this new reality, Luke never visited Bikini Beach, so Peter never came and changed to Ruth, and the magic is still out there to be triggered."

Grandmother said, "Confound-it, Anya, I hope you're wrong." A moment's pause, and she continued, "Poor Daisy... poor Luke... poor Ruth." After another pause, "Hold me, Anya; I need a good cry." Tears began flowing.

Outside, Ellen tiptoed away from the door.

        Returning Home After Luke's Change

Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto drove Peter, Carol, and me home. Despite the phone-call home, I was dreading more and more Ma and Pa's reaction to my running off. Peter could tell..

"Don't worry, Luke, Ruth," he said. "We'll all back you up when we get home. Right, Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto?"

"Right," answered Mr. Matsumoto.

Peter continued, "Ma and Pa won't lay a finger on you -- if they know what's good for them."

We sat in silence for a while, as Mr. Matsumoto continued the drive home. Then Mr. Matsumoto said, "Whenever I thought of it, I always told myself, I'd do anything to keep Daisy safe. I never thought in terms of sacrificing someone else for Daisy, and I hope I wouldn't have sacrificed you, Luke. But you faced the situation, and you simply did it, what I'd always vowed to do. First, you work and endanger yourself, to take Daisy with you to escape the snakes, when you could have escaped and left her to them. Then, you went and changed yourself so that Daisy would live."

Both Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto were openly crying again, and Mr. Matsumoto had to pull over to the side and stop the car for a few minutes.

We continued in more silence for a few minutes. Peter eventually broke the silence: "You've come a long way, Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto."

"In what way, may I ask?" said Mrs. Matsumoto.

"You started out loathing and hating Bikini Beach and Grandmother, and now you've reached at least some kind of truce with Grandmother, if not a sort of friendship."

We drove past Daisy's house. Several police cars and pest removal vans were there, and yellow tape surrounded the entire house, including the front yard and the backyard fence, labeling that a crime scene. Several police officers were there, along with pest-removal workers dressed in full-body suits.

I freaked out and nearly threw up when I saw the remains of two rattlesnakes being carried out. I had to lower the window and stick my head out, before I managed to hold back the vomit.

Mr. Matsumoto continued to our house. We all got out and walked up to the door. I stayed behind Peter, afraid of encountering Ma and Pa. I was amazed, thinking back to my time as Lucy, at how I became totally unscared of the wrath or punishment of Ma and Pa.

Peter rang the doorbell and opened the door. As we all entered, he shouted, "Ma, Pa, we're home!"

Pa stood up, an astonishingly huge, tall, monstrous, menacing Pa -- pretty much as I'd forgotten from my childhood as Luke. And he was approaching, the fury plain in his eyes. "Ruth, do you know how--"

"Ruth!" Daisy appeared at the top of the stairs, and dashed down, almost tripping, and ran to me. No longer did she appear a little girl. She was now my size. I realized that I was a little girl now. She glommed tightly onto me, and I held her hard as well. She was truly alive!

"Oh, Luke! You changed yourself to save me from the rattlesnakes!" She burst out crying, and I held her hard, unable to help crying myself.

"Luke-- Ruth, let us have our turn with Daisy, please," said Mr. Matsumoto. Mrs. Matsumoto was crying as she picked up Daisy and held her hard to her shoulder. "Oh Daisy, you're alive!" Mr. Matsumoto crowded in front of Mrs. Matsumoto, trying to hold her as well.

Meanwhile, Peter, also a giant, stepped in front of me, shielding me from the furious giants Ma and Pa. "Ma, Pa, we already told you, Ruth and I left because of an emergency. You'll never believe what happened -- it sounds crazy -- but Pa, you'd better believe what I told you over the phone."

Ma closed in on both of us. "Pa doesn't know, but remember that I went to Bikini Beach several times, including the photoshoot. And Pa does know about Daisy's nightmares and the snakes at your house." She looked up at the Matsumotos. "Dan, there's a good reason why both you and Daisy called Ruth, Luke. And why Daisy said Ruth or Luke changed herself -- himself? -- to save Daisy. You all went to Bikini Beach and got Luke a lifetime membership."

I worked up the nerve, and moved out from behind Peter. "Ma, I ran off by myself from the hospital to Bikini Beach, because I knew with Ruth here, she'd be away from the rattlesnakes."

"And--" began both Mr. Matsumoto and Peter. "Go ahead, Peter," said Mr. Matsumoto.

"I figured out what Luke was up to, and the rest of us left for Bikini Beach in a vain effort to get there before he could ruin his life."

"And you would have quarreled and fought over who would change," I said to both of them.

Daisy let out a whimper, and Mrs. Matsumoto took her in her arms. "You're safe now, thanks to Bikini Beach and Luke's self-sacrifice." She was weeping softly.

Carol actually did cry. I stepped over to hug her, and she lifted me up and held me tight. "Carol, I'm still Luke in here... and Lucy... I think." I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her cheek.

Daisy scrambled down from Mrs. Matsumoto's arms. "Let's go downstairs!" She grabbed Peter's hand. "You too, Carol and Luke-Ruth." Carol appeared about to carry me down, when I decided I could walk as well and slid down. Peter and I both took her hand. Ma began following us, when Mr. Matsumoto said, "Let them talk and play by themselves, Erin."

Downstairs, Carol said, "It will sound weird if you accidentally call her Luke-Ruth, Daisy."

Daisy giggled. "She's right, Ruth." She turned serious. "Ruth is still in you, Peter, but now you're Ruth too, Luke, a different Ruth. Luke is still in you. We'll still be best friends, right? Like before when you were Luke."

"Best friends forever!" I couldn't help giggling.

We talked some more, and at one point I said, "Really hope that I never lose my Bikini-Beach friends. They're still Carol's age, but five years older than me."

I also learned that I was in Daisy's fourth-grade class. That would be nice.

That evening, we found out that Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto found an motel with an inexpensive weekly rate, and Daisy would stay with us, until their house was cleaned out and freed by the police.

        Monday, September 22

This was my first day in fourth grade as Ruth.

Daisy and I were dressed for school and had just finished eating breakfast, when the front door opened and both Carol and Peter entered. "We're going to walk with you to school, partway, the way you did with Daisy and me," said Peter. "If you don't mind, that is."

"Great, great!"

So Peter and Carol walked with us until the turn-off point, where Daisy and I went on to the elementary school and Peter and Carol continued to high school.

I wasn't too surprised to find school harder than I expected.

Carol joined us for dinner that night as well. Peter was preparing to depart for Pacific Tech the next day, and we wouldn't be able to see him again until Christmas.

        Tuesday, September 23

Carol and Peter again walked with us partway to school. This was going to be the last we saw of Peter.

On the way, Peter had some serious things to say. "Primarily you, Ruth, because Daisy knows a bit of it. But Daisy should hear, too. And Carol."

Peter paused before continuing. "There's hope for you yet, Luke. Not only a hope but also a danger. Someone, somewhere -- may be Bikini Beach, may be someone else -- may perform a reality-shift that prevents the snake attack. You remain Luke. The danger is that it might occur after you've made many new friends, and done many new things -- and then lose it all. You forget everything, including all your new friends."

"That's such a sad thing," I said, even as hope arose that I might become Luke again.

Peter paused, then continued, "Sometimes I wonder. The Universe is a big place, with possibly hundreds of billions of stars in our own galaxy, and billions of galaxies. Perhaps every few seconds, a mage somewhere in the Universe causes a reality-shift that changes everything we're doing and everything we've done. We only remember the current reality, which shifts every few seconds."

That was a sobering, scary thought. We walked in silence for a little. Then Peter said, "I'm sorry I can't be the kind of big brother for you that you were for me when I was Ruth."

"Aww, that's okay," I said. "I have Daisy with me."

"I had Daisy, too. And you and Carol. You won't remember, although Daisy might. As Ruth the first time, I almost ruined my friendship with Daisy. You saved it."

I didn't remember, of course, but they'd mentioned it before.

Daisy said, "I think that's when I began to fall in love with Luke. Before, he was just there -- Peter's kid brother and Ruth's big brother." I couldn't help blushing at that point. "He comforted my crying, and then played with me."

"As I've always said as Ruth, you're the best big brother in the world," Peter said. "And I'm sure, if there's any need for it, you'll become the best baby sister in the world."

Baby sister? Is that how Peter thinks of me now? I couldn't help fuming for the moment.

"Still the best friend in the world," said Daisy.

"I most sincerely hope that it won't be necessary, but if push ever comes to shove, you'll come through. And I'm sure Carol will be there for you as well."

We stopped at the turn-off point. "I guess this is good-bye. I'll see you both at Christmas Vacation. We leave for the airport in about two hours." Peter lifted both of us up, one in each arm. We hugged him hard, and Daisy kissed Peter's cheek. All three of us had tears in our eyes, as Peter let us down and Carol looked on.

"Good-bye both of you," said Peter.

"Good-by, Peter," said both of us. Peter turned, and the last I saw of him was walking off with Carol and holding her hand.

"At least we have each other, and other nice friends," said Daisy. "Peter won't have anyone until he makes new friends." We took each other's hand and turned and entered the schoolgrounds.

        Seeing Peter off to College

PETER HAD SAID his good-byes earlier to Carol, Luke-Ruth, and Daisy, who were now at school. Now he was at the airport saying good-bye to Ma and Pa, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto.

Even as he was shaking Peter's hand and wishing him the best for college, Glenn was considering his family's living options in the longer run. Currently, he and Ellen were staying in the hotel room he'd rented for the week after the rattlesnake attack.

Should they move back into their house after the police release it as a crime scene, with all the rattlesnakes removed and the place sanitized? Should they move to another house or condominium or apartment? Or should they leave the city, flee, and go into hiding?

Bikini Beach's Grandmother said that the rattlesnakes were teleported into the house. That being the case, Glenn had no way of independently investigating the attack, and he didn't see how Ellen could either. Glenn would have to leave it up to Grandmother to discover the mage who'd done it, unless he could find and hire another mage. Maybe the mage would take Daisy as apprentice as well.

Peter's Ma and Pa both shook Peter's hand, and Ellen shook his hand too, and then surprised Peter by reaching up and kissing Peter's cheek. Peter went wide-eyed and blushed, his jaw dropped for just a moment; then he got himself back under control.

"I'll call when I arrive," said Peter, as he entered the line for security.

The four adults stayed and watched him as he progressed through the line. They continued to watch until Peter made it through security, and then turned to depart.

Two men in police uniforms approached. One opened his wallet, showing his identification as a police officer. The officer also pulled out a folded sheet of paper. "Glenn and Ellen Matsumoto?"

"Yes?" answered Glenn and Ellen simultaneously.

The officer handed Glenn the sheet of paper, saying, "This is a warrant for the arrest of both of you." Glenn skimmed over it; it looked correct, and it had the signature of a judge whom he recognized. He passed the sheet to Ellen. "It's for the rattlesnake attack."

"Very well, officer," Glenn said. "Dan, Erin, please contact Darline and inform her of our arrest. Have her retain a defense attorney, preferably Jonathon Smith."

The officers handcuffed both Ellen and Glenn, and led them to a police wagon waiting outside.

Dan and Erin watched in shocked silence as their friends, Daisy's parents, were led away in handcuffs. Dan was thankful that Peter, having passed through security, was oblivious to this latest turn of events.

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.

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 water park was created for. Nothing untoward should happen.

Such things 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 just an ordinary paying girl. Nothing bad or strange should happen.

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, 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.

Ellen reminded herself to remain calm and wholesome with Daisy. "Daisy, what's this `Dad' business?" Her voice wavered, reminded as she was of Daisy's bitterly loathed dad, Glenn Matsumoto.

Glinda knelt, her head at 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 possibility 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. `If Bikini Beach can change boys to girls, or mess up our memories, why can't my little daughter read minds?' After all, Daisy had picked her dad out of Glinda's mind.

She turned to Glinda. "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 replied, "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 friend family friend, a friendship that 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 with a sharp `Enough!' He was a girl by that time, and that was why we've remained good 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. Instead, you'll 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, and work it out from the ages."

"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 you really remembered. 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. "I thought it was just coincidence. 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 understand now, this was no 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 strictly 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 with me." 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?"

"Daisy's asleep, so 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 bated breath, 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."

            The 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 the protagonist's particular point of view, 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.

            A Wednesday in August

Over breakfast, Peter reminded us, "Lucy and I are joining Daisy and Mrs. Matsumoto, visiting Mr. Matsumoto at his office for lunch. Mr. Matsumoto invited us.

"Mrs. Matsumoto informed me of it yesterday," replied Ma. "It's a splended idea, and a wonderful opportunity."

"I agree," added Pa. "It's always good 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. If Pa knew I had this -- well, the confrontation would have occured 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.

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 carry your ballet kit in that."

"Thanks, Ma. I'll see you later," I said, transfering 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 idential 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 at himself 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 got 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!

            Off to Bikini Beach

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 her 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 reminded 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 of him.

Eventually, Glenn turned off the freeway and reached the Bikini Beach parking lot. 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 visiters."

"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 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-day 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 gotten Ellen pregnant, 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, Jim had 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 bespell you again."

"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 Xena 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.

            "Bikini Beach: Ellen's Daughter Visits" follows immediately.

Some readers may recall sick Beth mentioned a couple times in "A Bikini Beach Summer". Unfortunately, Grandmother's solution to everything wiped out Ruth's attempt to get information about Beth's sickness to her parents. This is a side-story to the sequel, which is still being written. It occurs a few weeks later, and Beth's condition has consequently worsened.

As usual, thoughts and statements about Bikini Beach are potentially wrong, being made by persons with imperfect knowledge. Bikini Beach and its primary characters are copyright 1998 by Elrod W.

Grandpa Rochester watched as Mrs. Cuttington took her daughter Ruth by the shoulder, and led her away to her car. Ruth had challenged him about Beth's disease, and practically ordered him to restore the medicine, and even take her to a hospital! He felt a bit guilty about accusing nine-year-old Ruth, a girl Beth's age, of mental malpractice in mentally holding back Beth's healing. Nevertheless, Truth had to firmly counter evil and animal magnetism.

He continued on into the Sunday School, where Beth still sat.

"Grandpa," said Beth weakly.

He looked down at her, full of love for his grand-daughter, seeing God's Perfect Child sitting where material sense showed a weak and pale little girl.

He lifted her up, she put her arms around his neck, and he carried her to the Church. He sat her down on the bench and sat down next to her. Beth was always so nice and quiet, a joy to be around.

He closed his eyes, and knew the Truth about Beth as the perfect child of God, coming alert again as the First Reader opened the service with the hymn. He noticed out of the corner of his eye the older sister of that girl Ruth. Lucy had stood silently as Ruth had challenged him. Now, she was sitting next to her father. Her mother had apparently elected to stay home with Ruth.

Once church was over, Grandpa carried Beth out to the car, and buckled her into the back seat. He got into the driver's seat and buckled himself in. He opposed seat belts on Principle, as using them normally meant admitting the possibility of accidents. But the law required seat belt usage, and Christian Science required following the law. This had the logical consequence of no longer actually admitting the possibility of accidents.

They arrived home safely, thereby proving that accidents were unknown in Science.

TUESDAY morning, a FedEx envelope arrived. Grandpa opened it and found a letter and a brochure from Bikini Beach.

Dear Mr. Rochester

As part of a promotion for Bikini Beach, we are proud
to announce a free Grandparent-Granddaughter day
at Bikini Beach. This offer is good this summer through
Saturday, August 23. To accept this offer, simply bring
your granddaughter and, if desired, friends of your
granddaughter, up to a maximum of six persons total,
to one of the booths at Bikini Beach. Present this letter
and receive your day passes.

The letter had other information. Despite the name, Bikini Beach, the brochure showed girls approximately Beth's age in one-piece swimsuits swimming, going down slides, and doing other fun activities. Girls and women in the blurry distance were in bikinis, but the focus girls were all in one-piece swimsuits.

Grandpa had heard of Bikini Beach, and had heard all sorts of bizarre rumors about Bikini Beach. They promoted immodesty in girls. They changed people to animals and reptiles; they changed boys to girls; they made boys disappear into oblivion. They even altered reality so that what happened never happened and what never happened happened.

Grandpa knew that such things were impossible in Science. Nevertheless, he was skeptical of "free" offers and all forms of advertising. He was leaning toward discarding the invitation, when Beth saw the brochure.

"That looks so fun," whispered Beth. "Please, Grandpa? Can't we go?"

"I can't promise yet, but we might go tomorrow." Grandpa knew he should firmly say no, but he hadn't the strength. They couldn't go Thursday, because Beth would be flying home then.

"Oh, goody!" said Beth.

Grandpa spent the rest of the day reading from Science and Health, as well as the Bible and Prose Works. He saw nothing warning him against Bikini Beach, although there were repeated warnings to deny all claims of evil or error. One was admonished to make it one's law that mental malpractice and animal magnetism would not affect or influence oneself.

WEDNESDAY morning, he had decided. He would take Beth to Bikini Beach for the day. He helped to dress Beth in a sky-blue one-piece swimsuit, and, making sure he had the letter with him, carried her out to the car.

He drove to Bikini Beach, and, carrying Beth, got into line for one of the booths. It wasn't long before a staff member of Bikini Beach approached him. "Sir, if you follow me, we'll have you and your granddaughter processed promptly. You need not wait in line."

"Thank you, miss," said Grandpa, as he followed the young woman to one of the booths. He handed the elderly lady manning the booth the letter.

"Greetings, Mr. Rochester, and thank you for participating in our promotion." She handed him two day-pass cards. "You are welcome to bring your granddaughter into the men's changing room with you -- and remember to shower, it's a Bikini Beach requirement."

"Thank you, ma'am," said Grandpa. He found the men's changing room in no time, and sat Beth down while he changed into his swimming trunks. He took Beth to one of the showers, one with stainless-steel bars to hold onto. He set Beth down, standing holding one of the bars, while he turned on the shower.

He noticed a pink tint to the mist in the shower, and felt himself changing shape and shrinking. `Everything works for the good of those who love God, and mental malpractice cannot, in Science, harm one.' He kept focus on those thoughts, even as he reached Beth's size, and even as he and Beth both shrunk further.

"Are we ready, girls?" asked Grandma from behind them, in her own skirted one-piece swimsuit.

"Yes, Grandma," answered seven-year-old Bambi, as she followed her identical twin sister Beth, dressed in an identical sky-blue one-piece swimsuit, out of the shower.

Grandma led them to the exit, and opened the door, giving the three of them their first view ever of Bikini Beach. Grandma extended the index finger of each hand, and Beth and Bambi each took hold of one finger. Grandma led them out into the water park.

"WHAT WE JUST DID seems almost slimy," said Anya, as she watched the trio from a distance and Grandmother returned from dealing with them. "Not even giving Mr. Rochester a sporting chance while changing him and completely rewriting his mind and reality -- not even letting him know. Maybe you could have changed him and Beth for the day, and given him the ultimatum: get Beth the appropriate medical care, or else."

Grandmother replied, "Beth *hated* the necessary daily injections. They hurt the little child, much more than they would have hurt either of us. Her schoolmates tormented her for them, and she was hammered academically because of that. She had to repeat first grade, and was going to repeat second grade. She was *happy* when her grandfather told her she didn't need the injections, that her life didn't depend on them, and that God would take care of her. Anya, what does your Sight tell you would have happened had we not done this?"

"I could tell immediately without the Sight how weak she was, almost faint even." Anya closed her eyes and concentrated for a moment. "Today, Beth's parents arrive home from their tour. They hear from Grandpa that he and Beth had a wonderful summer together, although she was experiencing a claim of weakness -- a horrible euphemism that Grandpa actually believes. You're right; an ultimatum wouldn't have worked. Beth's Grandpa is stuck in a belief system that can't be refuted. Tomorrow, Beth is barred from her flight home because of her sickness. The airline informs her parents that Beth wasn't allowed to board, about the same time that Ruth's letter reaches them, telling them that Grandpa has taken her off the injections.

"Beth's parents promptly fly out here, only to discover Beth in a coma. They call 911, and learn that Grandpa has disposed of the medicine and the syringes. The ambulance takes Beth and the parents to the emergency room, where Beth gets an immediate injection. It's too close to call; the possibilities branch here:

"Beth dies. The injection is too late.

"Beth lives, and recovers in a few weeks with some permanent damage. In the long run, her body requires ever-increasing doses of medicine, as she grows and as her body adjusts to the medicine. She also develops some damage to her eyes and toes, probably because the dosage isn't increased fast enough. She eventually recovers academically, with home-schooling.

"In both cases, Beth's family and Grandpa are permanently estranged."

Grandmother said, "And now, instead, we have two healthy seven-year-old twins, at their academic level. Their loving Grandma is now alive and well, and while Grandpa apparently died in the incident that formerly took his wife, he is now Bambi, one of the twins. Beth's parents are now still friendly with Grandma."

Anya shook her head sadly. "It still feels like we're playing God, deciding the fates of people without asking them -- without the all-knowingness and infinite wisdom associated with God. Recall that when we transformed Tracy to undo Jill Denison's murder and restore Peter, we inadvertently undid Ruth's messages to Beth's parents three weeks earlier. There always seems to be side effects and unforeseen consequences to global reality-shifts. I wonder what may happen here. I agree that we had to do it, but still..."

"When the fates are horrible, we sometimes just have to do something -- especially if we contributed to the problem," said Grandmother. She smiled at Anya. "Now let's take a breather and go for ice cream."

Jennifer Lam, of "A Bikini Beach Summer" and "A Bikini Beach Late Summer", revisits Bikini Beach for the first time.

                        Monday, July 28

"No!" wailed Jen, bawling her heart out. "No, no, no!" Tim murdered! As she wept, she realized she had dozed off at her desk in the middle of doing her algebra homework. It was only a nightmare, just a very bad nightmare she kept telling herself. Still, the very idea of Tim dying kept Jen weeping for some time.

Jennifer Lam was already over a month and a half into the worst summer of her life, with one month remaining. At times, she felt that she'd irrevocably shamed and defiled herself forever by becoming Tim's lover that past Spring. Other times, she was determined to redeem herself from her shame, by working hard at her Cantonese and algebra classes. Still other times, she missed Tim. That happened most often in bed, either at night or during daytime naps.

Her parents kept her under strict control. Her mother told her, "Once you're in college or out on your own, you may have boyfriends and relationships. But not until then."

One night, she awoke missing Tim horribly. She snuck out and rode her bicycle to Tim's apartment, terrified the entire ride by the noises, the cars, and the neighborhoods she rode through. They had a wonderful time together, and Tim drove her and her bike back home in time not to be caught.

Her parents never found out about her nighttime trip. They might have guessed that something had happened, because she'd been more alive the following days.

But that had been a long time earlier. Jen continued to think and fantasize about Tim off and on, less so as time progressed. She began to realize that falling for Tim, becoming Tim's lover had been a terrible mistake.

This particular day, Jen had done half of her algebra homework, when she yanked herself awake, realizing she'd dozed off. In her dream, she was with Tim and very happy. Then she was away from Tim, and Tim was gone... dead... murdered. That was really all she could remember of her nightmare; the rest was but vague imagery she couldn't seize upon. She continued crying until she'd cried herself out, leaving herself drained and weak.

Even though it was just about the last thing she wanted to do, she dragged her mind back to her algebra assignment. She found herself working far slower than usual, finishing only when she was called down to dinner.

Before this summer, Mom would have noticed Jen's manner and that she had been crying earlier. Mom would have lent a sympathetic ear and support. Jen suspected that she noticed anyway, but as usual for this summer, held back behind Dad's firm discipline that had particularly developed this summer. Mom gave no sign of noticing Jen's distress.

Having all grieved out, over dinner Jen developed a cold anger and loathing toward her parents, icy compared with her initial fury of the first few weeks after they had caught her with Tim, and kept her on a tight leash. Jen's mom had even quit her job, so that she could supervise her daughter full-time.

Jen mostly picked at her food. Mom and Dad asked her about her classes. She simply stated that she'd finished her new algebra assignment, and she had turned in a paper for her Cantonese literature class.

She returned to her bedroom shortly after dinner, and sat at her desk intending to read a book she'd checked out of the library the most recent of the rare times been allowed to visit the public library. Instead, she pondered over her happy golden times with Tim last spring.

She lay her head down inside the loop of her arms on the desk and wept again, crying softly.

Finally, she gave up on the book, gave up on the desk, and gave up on the evening. She undressed, and had to push herself to put on a bathrobe to go and shower.

Back in her room, she flicked the lights off, slipped a nightgown over her head, and slid into bed, finally crying herself to sleep. She knew it was only a nightmare, she had no indication of anything happening to Tim, yet she couldn't help crying from the possibility.

She didn't notice having fallen asleep; as far as she knew, she'd kept crying forever. But a glance at her clock showed that it was eleven at night. What were her parents doing? She heard sounds from the TV in their room.

She could sneak out. They wouldn't hear her.

She disarmed the security system and went into the garage for her bicycle. She slipped it in the house, and took it to the front door before resetting security to "STAY" -- she now had sixty seconds. She worked her bicycle out the front door, and closed and locked it.

Her first attempt at riding her bike was clumsy, as she hadn't ridden in weeks -- only once over the summer, that earlier nighttime ride to Tim's apartment. But gradually her biking instincts returned and took over. She realized too late that she'd forgotten to change into clothes -- she was still in her nightgown without panties or shoes and socks. Well, too late now.

It was dark. The moon was half-full and just over the horizon, about to set. The streetlights were bright in her immediate neighborhood, as well as the residential neighborhoods along the route. But as she rode toward downtown, using side-streets whenever possible to avoid traffic, the streets got darker and scarier. Unknown random noises assaulted her ears as well.

She reached Tim and Andy's apartment building, and locked her bike at the covered bike stand. Happily, the code to the door of the building still worked. She went directly up to Tim and Andy's apartment, and knocked the knocker.

Jen heard noises from the other side. Light from the peephole blocked for a second, and she heard the deadbolt slide. Andy appeared.

"Jen! Please, come in. Tim, Jen's here!"

Jen entered, as Tim emerged rapidly from his bedroom. "Jen!" "Tim!" they exclaimed simultaneously, running into each other's arms. Jen pressed up against his chest, feeling the warmth and taking in his wonderful odor.

Tim stepped back and held her at arm's length. "Let me look at you." After a pause, he said, "You're unhealthily thin, you need a change of clothes, and you seem half-asleep. You look wonderful!" He pulled her back into his tight embrace. "Let's get some food in you, and then get you to bed. The rest we can put off until tomorrow. We have to get you back home before sunrise."

"I'm not going back, ever," said Jen. "I'm not sure I can take much food right now, though."

"You have to eat something," said Andy. "I agree with Tim; you're too thin. You need a change of clothes. If, after food, a bath, and sleep, you don't want to go back home, we'll get you some clothes tomorrow. For tonight something of Tim's should do."

After a light snack, Jen took a long shower, cleaning herself all over. Then she put on a large tee-shirt of Tim's, and stuffed her now dirty nightgown in a plastic grocery bag left for her. She went into Tim's bedroom, and got into bed, but lay awake contentedly, Tim's face hovering in her imagination.

Tim silently slipped in bed with her. She worked herself out of her tee-shirt and pressed up against him. It felt so much better that way. She fell asleep at once.

                        Tuesday

The sun was shining bright through the window when she woke up. She found herself alone in Tim's room! The clock said it was around 8:00. She sat up. The nightgown that she'd worn here were sitting on a nightstand next to the bed, apparently washed, dried, and folded, along with clothes she'd left here months earlier. Tim's tee-shirt that she'd worn was on the floor where she'd tossed it. She put it on, and went out of the room.

Both Tim and Andy were up and dressed, eating breakfast at the table. She ran up to Tim and hugged him hard. "Tim! Mmmmmm, scrambled eggs!"

"Here, have a seat." Tim pulled up a third seat, while Andy got out utensils for her.

They were still in the middle of breakfast, and talking about random things, when the doorbell rang. Andy went to answer it. To her horror, Jen heard Dad's voice shouting loudly.

Both Dad and Mom appeared, Andy behind them.

"Jen, you're coming home now!" said Mom, moving toward her.

"No!" Jen jumped up, ran to a drawer, and grabbed a huge kitchen cutting knife. Aiming it between her breasts, she said, "I'm staying here! Try and--"

Tim jumped and grabbed her wrist, twisting the knife out of her hands. "For God's sake, no, Jen!" He dropped the knife on a counter, well out of Jen's reach.

Jen felt her world crumbling, and burst into tears, crying up against Tim. Tim wrapped his arms around her.

Mom and Dad, who had stood frozen, turned to each other and spoke in whispers. A moment later, they turned and departed.

"Well," said Andy. "I should be off to work now. You two will be okay?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine," answered Jen, still feeling a little sad but recovering from her tears. Tim nodded.

Andy left, and Jen and Tim were alone together. Jen was so happy at being with Tim now, she loved him so much. She pressed up against him, stood on tip-toes, and pulled his head down for a hard kiss.

They came up for breath. "The breakfast's cold now," said Tim. "I'll warm it up in the microwave." As he did so, Jen, feeling warm and tingly all over, and especially warm and moist down there, lifted her tee-shirt and slipped it off.

Tim's eyes widened upon turning back around. "Wow!"

Jen went back to embracing him, pushing his tee-shirt up and off with Tim's help. Tim's bare chest and six-pack stomach felt so good against her, she held him to her as hard as possible until the microwave alarm rang.

Tim pulled out their breakfast remains from the microwave, and sat down at the table. Jen sat on his lap. Tim fed Jen a fork-full of eggs, and Jen went along with it and fed Tim a bite. As they altered feeding each other, Tim asked what Jen had been doing over the summer.

"My parents made me take classes. I was kept home the rest of the time." She described what little she remembered. She didn't mention yesterday's nightmare and her consequent horror about Tim. "I'm never going home again. I won't be taking those classes any more."

"Did you like your classes?" asked Tim.

"They're okay. But I'm not taking them any more."

"Why not? Summer might get rather boring."

Jen was surprised. She'd just assumed she wouldn't continue with her classes, she realized. Why not? now that Tim mentioned it... "I gotta get dressed." She dashed back to Tim's room and slipped into her clothes. "Class begins shortly, I barely have time!"

Tim was ready when she was. They rushed out to the car and Tim sprinted off to school.

Summer classes continued as before -- the only thing remaining unchanged, Jen thought. Tim picked her up afterwards. He had purchased new clothes for her. As they arrived home, at Tim and Andy's apartment, Jen recognized who awaited outside. "Mom!" Jen's mom had brought along a few suitcases and boxes.

"May I join you for lunch?" asked Mom. "I'll cook."

Jen and Tim glanced at each other, before agreeing. Mom cooked a splendid lunch.

"Jen, I went to inform your schools that you wouldn't be attending classes any more. They told me that you were there today."

"Tim persuaded me to stick with my classes," replied Jen.

Mom stayed with Tim and Jen the rest of the afternoon. She departed, saying that she had to be home before Dad arrived home from work.

That set the pattern for the rest of the week. Jen attended classes as scheduled in the morning, and Mom came and cooked lunch, and spent the afternoon with Tim and Jen.

                        Saturday Morning

Jen was leaning against Tim on their bed and reading a book, when the doorbell rang. Andy shortly appeared at their bedroom door. "It's your mom, Jen."

"Oh!" Jen slipped into a bathrobe and hurried to the living room where Mom was waiting. Tim appeared shortly after in t-shirt and boxers.

"I thought we could spend a nice Saturday swimming," said Mom. Glancing out the window, Jen saw that it was promising to be a glorious summer day.

And that's what they did. Jen ran and put on her swimsuit, with a pair of shorts over it, and flip-flops. Tim wore his swimming trunks and a t-shirt.

While driving, Mom said, "This is the happiest and liveliest I've seen you in a long time, possibly this entire summer."

Jen was about to answer something to the effect that how she was kept under control that summer was not exactly conductive toward happiness and liveliness, but she didn't want to ruin the mood.

Eventually, they arrived. "Bikini Beach" displayed a sign above the entry. Mom parked the car and they got in line to the ticket booth.

Once they reached the booth -- WTF!? Five years for Tim and Jen? And the humungous expense! How could they possibly afford it, now that Mom had quit her job? Jen couldn't bring herself to question Mom's decision, and remained silent throughout.

Upon the transaction's completion, they went to the locker rooms. At the men's locker room, Jen hugged Tim, pulling him down and kissing his cheek. "I'll see you later inside." As Tim entered the men's locker room, Jen and Mom continued onto the women's locker room.

Jen, already in her swimsuit, only needed to stow her gear away in a locker, shower, and slap on sunscreen. Upon completing these, while Mom was still showering, she asked, "Mom, may I go meet Xena?"

Upon receiving Mom's assent, Jen hurried to the overflow locker room. She wondered momentarily why Xena was changing in the other locker room rather than with her.

Upon arriving, Jen wondered how the heck did she ever forget Tim? This locker room was much smaller, and only two persons were there, an old woman and a black girl Jen's own age in a white bikini that looked perfect on her. Jen nodded shyly to ther old woman. "Ma'am."

"Good morning, Jennifer," said the old woman.

"Neihou, Jen," said the girl.

"Neihou... Xena," replied Jen. Somehow, she recognized this girl as the Xena she was expecting. But what about Tim? And why was she expecting Xena? She saw a certain resemblance to Tim, as if Xena were his younger sister. Then she met Xena's eyes.

"Xena?" said Jen, trying to say Tim. "I mean Xena?" What was going on? Why couldn't she even say Tim's name anymore? "What happened to you?"

"Apparently..." The girl paused. "I'm Xena now." Xena lowered her eyes. "It's so strange, it can't happen. It's gotta be a nightmare."

"Young lady," said the old woman. "I most sincerely hope you not consider your experience nightmarish at Bikini Beach." She sighed. "Now, I have certain things to explain, and it's good that both of you are present to hear them."

"Xena, your transformation remains until the end of your membership with Bikini Beach. Your mother, Jen, intended this to be five years, at which time you would be eighteen. My granddaughter, whom your mother dealt with, surreptitiously changed the membership to under two years -- specifically the Sunday night following the end of school your freshman year. You would be fifteen then."

"Will we still be friends and lovers?" asked Xena/Tim.

Grandmother replied, "That's entirely up to the two of you," as Jen blushed in shock and embarrassment. Grandmother continued, "Once that initial membership expires, you may renew your memberships repeatedly for any time period, until six years total have been reached."

Grandmother spoke further, ending with this warning. "This applies specifically to you, Xena. If you get pregnant, you remain a woman for life. Both of you have birth-control pills, along with on-going prescriptions. Be sure to take them. They will also help steady your period." Jen blushed again.

Grandmother departed with these words. "Enjoy your stay at Bikini Beach."

They checked in one last time with Jen's mom, and went out to explore and enjoy Bikini Beach. At one point, as they were volleying a volleyball back and forth, they met a group of girls, Vanessa, Carol, Faline, and Tracy, along with newcomers Lucy and Becky.