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From: Daphne Xu <daphneXU@PSEUDOnym.mixTUREminIATURE.netMUNIST>
Subject: {ASSM} "A Bikini Beach Summer" (06/21) {Daphne Xu}   (tg,magic,mc,off-screen sex,teens,young)
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Date: Tue, 02 Sep 2014 06:10:03 -0400
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   A Bikini Beach Summer

   by Daphne Xu

   Part 6

   Lucy's Next Few Days

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

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

   Wednesday, July 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   Thursday, July 3

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

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

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

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

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

   "It looks great on you," added Carol.

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

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

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

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

   "Is anyone coming tomorrow?" asked Jen.

   "Me," answered Alice.

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

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

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

   "Me too!" added Alice.

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

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

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

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

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

   "Nobody," I quickly answered, blushing furiously.

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

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

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

   "Stop it!" I cried.

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

   I couldn't help blushing at that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

   "The girl protests too much," said Alice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

   "You should be proud," said Becky.  "Shout it to the world!  `You can't
have him; he's mine!'"

   Everyone else laughed at that.  I didn't feel like laughing.  In fact, I
was almost crying with embarrassment.

   "So how old is Brandon?" asked Carol.

   "Does he have gray hair?" asked Becky.

   "Old enough to be your grandfather?" suggested Jen.

   "No, no, no!  Brandon's not like that at all!"

   "So tell us.  Tell us everything!" said Becky.

   "He only in his twenties, or maybe his early thirties." I wished they
would stop going on about this!

   "So not a distinguished gray-haired old man then," said Becky.  "Black
hair?  Tall, dark, and handsome?"

   "Has he met your parents yet?" asked Alice.

   "Of course!  He's --"

   "So what do they think of him as your boyfriend?" interrupted Becky.

   "As I was about to say," I huffed in a loud voice, punctuating every
syllable, hoping to avoid bursting in tears, "He has met my parents because
he's my clarinet teacher.  Got it?" I stuck my tongue out at her.

   "Don't worry about us," said Carol, taking me into her arms and pressing
my head up against her bosom.  Funny, that was usually Vanessa's role. 
"We're all girls here.  We like to tease, and we like anything to do with
boys and romance.  It's all in fun; it's just teasing.  Right girls?" she
shouted out to everyone.

   "Right!" the other four answered in unison.

   "We're all friends here," added Vanessa.

   "So everyone, into the water!" shouted Becky, and we all jumped up and
ran for the nearby pool.

   I came up to the surface next to Carol, who was treading water and tying
her bikini top back on.  "I got just a bit over-enthusiastic there," she
said.  "Hey, race-ya to the other side!" She beat me handily, being the
faster swimmer, but I had fun.

   Eventually, the day ended.  Vanessa's mom dropped Ruth and me off at
home.  The relief of not potentially being caught by Pa having worn a
bikini was a major weight off my shoulders, even though I still had bikini
tan lines from earlier.

   We got home shortly before Ruth's bedtime, so I only got to practice a
little on the clarinet.  Afterwards, I practiced a half-hour on the piano
in the living room.  The piano teacher, Mrs.  Prudence, was a nice old
lady, and I didn't want to disappoint her.

   Then I took my evening bath, and carefully shaved myself all over. 
Stubble was beginning to grow in, and I was itching just a bit,
particularly in my crotch.  I was feeling sexy about Brandon and seeing him
tomorrow.

   Friday, July 4

   "Let's hear the F-major scale, the low octave," Brandon instructed. 
F... F...  F...  oh yes, fingers covered all holes, and one of the pinky
keys.  I put my clarinet to my mouth -- nothing came out.  I blew harder -
still nothing.

   "Okay, let's try playing C," said Brandon, obviously disappointed.  That
was just my left hand, covering all notes.  I knew it like I knew my own
name.  I blew into the clarinet -- nothing again.  My breath seemed caught
in my throat.

   "Okay, how about the open G." No keys pressed, no holes covered.  Just
blow in while supporting the clarinet with my right thumb.  I briefly
adjusted my bikini bottom with my free left hand, while attempting to blow
the note.

   I'd come to clarinet lessons directly from Bikini Beach.  I'd never been
so humiliated in my life, botching the clarinet in my bikini in front of
Brandon.  In my bikini!  Oh-my-God-no-no-can't-be!

   -- I awoke.  Oh, gads, what a nightmare!  I sat up in bed and breathed

   deeply a couple times.  Oh, Brandon seeing me in a bikini, seeing me

   mangle the clarinet in a bikini!  I got up and went to the bathroom to

   relieve myself, then returned to bed.

   Whew!  That was only a nightmare...  only a nightmare...  only a
nightmare, I thought in relief as I joined Brandon in the clarinet lesson
room.  I sat down, assembled my clarinet, and absently adjusted my bikini
top-

   -- Oh God!  I woke up again.  Brandon seeing me in a bikini again.  At

   least I hadn't bombed the clarinet playing this time.  I slid further

   down between my sheets, squeezing my legs together, reveling in my

   shaved pubes.  Maybe I might let Brandon see me wearing a bikini some

   time -- oh heavens, no!

   The Mental Work had just finished, and I was happy to be allowed to read
out loud and record the Lesson Sermon.  I stood up in front of and Ma, Pa,
Ruth, with the Bible and "Science and Health" in front of me.  While
reading, I noticed my piano teacher, Mrs.  Prudence, off to the side.  I
recognized two old ladies and a middle-aged man in the back of the church.
While turning to the next entry in the Bible, I absently pulled down on my
bikini bottom-

   -- Oh SHIIIIIITTTTTT!  I burst into tears, compounding the cold sweat on

   the pillow and sheets, bawling out my heart against a world of

   nightmares -- Pa seeing me in a bikini, Mrs.  Prudence seeing me in a

   bikini, the whole damn congregation seeing me up front in a bikini!

   I found a dry region on my bed, and lay awake for I don't know how long.
I woke to Ma's knock at the door, calling me to breakfast.  I had no time
to get dressed; I slipped on a robe and went downstairs.  Breakfast was
followed by the usual Mental Work and Lesson on cassette.  I listened more
avidly than usual -- I had recorded the Bible part myself -- standing
porter at the door of thought and keeping my mind off nightmares.  I admit
to being a bit proud of my own work in recording the Lesson.

   It didn't quite work.  The thought of Brandon seeing me in a bikini got
through to me, and I pressed my legs together and stretched them out,
pointing my toes and leaning forward, with my hands between my knees.  It
felt good and exciting.  I hoped Ma and Pa didn't notice.

   After the Lesson, I went upstairs to get dressed, but instead I conked
out on the bed for a couple hours.

   I wanted to wear something pretty for clarinet lessons today, but I
didn't want to embarrass myself.  I picked out an olive sleeveless blouse
with a matching darker-green skirt that reached halfway down my thighs, and
also a sky-blue blouse with a navy-blue skirt ending a few inches above my
knees when I stood.  I couldn't decide which.

   Of course, I couldn't wear either of those to Sunday School and church,
or every day to dinner; they were inappropriately revealing.  I had a few
of these outfits, that I purchased on a whim, but hardly ever wore.

   I also tried on an old favorite red skirt, that I couldn't bear to give
to the Salvation Army.  It was two years old.  When I tried it on, it was
tight around my hips and ended less than an inch below my crotch.  Putting
on a matching tank top, I posed and examined myself in the mirror.  No, I
definitely couldn't wear this.  Not outside, not anywhere anyone could see
me.  Not only was I showing way too much leg, not only would I flash
everyone upon sitting down, but I also couldn't trust the material not to
split.

   No, I couldn't wear that to clarinet lessons.  I could only save it for
Ruth when she got older.  I decided on the green set.  I put on a pair of
anklet white socks and black flats, and slipped on a couple tiny diamond
earrings for good measure.

   I was a bit nervous about Ma seeing me in this, and terrified of Pa
seeing me.  I wondered how to get out of the house, with Pa staying home
from work for July 4th vacation.  I decided to practice one last time on
the clarinet before today's lesson.

   I kept practicing, but I stopped when I realized I had been practicing a
full hour.  I didn't want to tire out my lips for the lesson today.  I
still had a couple hours.  I stuffed my clarinet and my notebook with my
now-shredded Klose, long with other things I needed, into my knapsack.  At
least I didn't need my ballet uniform.

   Nervously venturing out of my room, where Pa might see me, I paused at
the top of the stairs, hearing Ma and Pa talking loudly.  Pa was saying,
"-- go to Bikini Beach if you want.  Take Ruth and Lucy.  I'll just stay
home, watch baseball and the fireworks on TV, maybe listen to the music,
and perhaps get a little work done."

   While I was waiting for Ma and Pa to end their argument, Ruth slipped
behind me.  "So it appears we're going to Bikini Beach today, for July 4th
Celebration."

   "Yeah.  You don't seem very excited, though, Ruth."

   "I'm pretty much past caring by now.  I can't change it.  Only Ma even
remembers.  Anyway, I must admit that Bikini Beach is lots of fun, and I've
made many friends there.  I'm sure you're quite excited about it, Lucy."

   Ruth was sounding strange again.  I just couldn't understand her at
times.  Like, wasn't the whole point of Bikini Beach to have lots of fun
and make friends?

   "You look really pretty, Lucy," Ruth continued.  "Is there a particular
reason you're all dressed up?"

   "No-no-no-no-no," I quickly replied.  "No reason at all.  I just decided
to dress up today."

   By now, the argument had wound down and Pa had gone to his office.  Ruth
and I went downstairs.  "Ma, are we really going to Bikini Beach today for
the fireworks?"

   "Yes, dear.  We'll go directly there from your lessons, so bring your
swimming gear with you.  And Lucy, I'm happy to see you dress up.  You
should do it more often."

   I was glad Ma didn't suspect anything.

   Again, I remembered I wanted to wear only one-piece swimsuits to Bikini
Beach.  I had two, in addition to my contraband bikini.  I'd worn one
yesterday, so I picked the other for today.

   We stopped for a salad lunch at the deli, at around 11:00.  While
waiting in line, I spotted a familiar figure sitting alone.  Carol.  "Ma,
may I go and join my friend over there?"

   "Yes you may.  I'll order a salad bar for you."

   I went over.  Sure enough, it was Carol from Bikini Beach.

   "Hey, Carol!"

   She looked up.  "Hey, Lucy!" She set down her sandwich and stood up.  We
hugged briefly.  As we pulled apart, she looked me up and down.  "Wow, you
look wonderful!" I giggled and blushed a little.  "Dressed up for something
special?"

   "Na, I just decided to dress up," I said as nonchalantly as I could. 
Her yellow tee-shirt displayed a vague picture of rows and columns of
symbols in blocks of various colors.  "I like your tee-shirt.  It's a bit
nerdy; it suits you.  I can't remember, but I think I've seen it before.

   "It's the periodic table of the elements.  You know, hydrogen, helium,
lithium, beryllium--"

   "Enough, you lost me!  Anyway, it's cute on you." I changed the subject.
"I have clarinet lesson at twelve."

   "Oooo, the mysterious Brandon!  I understand now." Carol glanced at my
skirt and gave a knowing cockeyed smile.  I blushed furiously.

   "Shhhh!  Ma and Ruth are here." I quickly glanced over my shoulder.  Ma
and Ruth were at the cash register.

   "Your mom probably suspects something.  They're usually quite observant.
And we tend to be a lot more transparent about things than we think." I
sucked in my breath.  It would be so embarrassing if Ma or Pa knew
anything, or even suspected anything.  Carol continued, "And I've heard
that little sisters can be surprisingly perceptive about such things."

   "And how!" I thought back to the time Ruth caught me in the library.

   "Hello, Mrs.  Cuttington," Carol politely greeted Ma, who had just
joined us with Ruth.  "Hi Ruth!"

   "Hello, I'm pleased to meet one of Lucy's friends from Bikini Beach,"
answered Ma.  "Unfortunately, I'm sorry I can't remember your name."

   "She's Carol," said Ruth.

   "She visited us one evening with her sister Nancy, and her sister's
friend." I reminded Ma.

   "Hey, are you coming to Bikini Beach July 4th celebration tonight?"
Carol asked.  "It'll be great!  Vanessa's singing in a chorus."

   "Indeed we are," answered Ma.

   Ruth reappeared with a plate of pasta and other stuff from the salad
bar. "We're going to see Helen sing too," she said.

   "I'll be back; I'm getting my lunch." I went to the salad bar and
selected various items.

   We spent the next half-hour chatting and eating.  We pushed two tables
together when Carol's sister Nancy joined us with her friend Cindy. 
Eventually, Ruth and Ma got up.  "I have to take Ruth to her piano lesson
now." Mrs.  Prudence taught piano in her own home, which was several blocks
from the mall.  In contrast, clarinet lessons were held in a small music
store in the mall.

   We all packed up and left the deli together.  "I'm going to clarinet
lesson now," I said.

   "I'll go with you," Carol said.  She turned to her sister.  "Bruella's
at one?"

   Shandy's Music was a bit of a walk from the deli, but we made it there
by 11:50.  I couldn't help breathing heavier as I approached.  I was

   getting really nervous and excited.  When we arrived, Carol and i sat on
a bench next to the hallway leading to the lesson rooms.  I tried to put
aside my breathlessness and nerves by starting my preparation.  I could
hear saxophone sounds from the current lesson.

   Carol watched me curiously, so I explained a little.  "I like to soak my
reeds a long time." I picked out a reed and opened a jar of distilled water
and pressed the reed up against the side.  Setting the jar down, I
assembled my clarinet.  I blew through it reedlessly to warm it up.  "Wind
instruments get a bit sharper when they warm.  Unlike violins, which
flatten."

   "I've noticed that.  I play both the flute and the violin," answered
Carol.

   I fingered a couple exercises from Klose, still waiting for my reed to
soak.

   "My, that book must have seen a lot of use," declared Carol, when I
pulled it from my knapsack.

   "Definitely." I'd used it so much the past year that it had repeatedly
come apart.  It was simpler to put it in a three-ring binder.

   HE appeared shortly, along with a girl carrying her saxophone case and
music, having just finished her lesson "Hello Lucy."

   "Hi B-b-b- Mr.  Oregon," I stammered breathlessly.  "This is my friend
Carol."

   "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr.  Oregon," Carol stood up to shake hands.
Brandon greeted her in turn, as I gathered up my stuff.

   As we walked to the lesson room, Brandon commented, "I see that as
usual, you've prepared you're setup.  And I must say, you look wonderful
all dressed up." I turned my head away, so he couldn't see my smile and
blush of happiness.  "Is it for a special July 4th function today?"

   "Oh, nothing in particular." I could hardly admit it was for him.  I
attached the reed to the mouthpiece as he did the same for his clarinet,
and warmed up with a few random notes.  I slipped in the opening phrase of
"You Are My Sunshine," both hoping and fearing he would notice.

   Wearing a miniskirt, I had to keep my knees close together; crossing my
legs while playing the clarinet was not an option.  I leaned forward just a
bit and aimed my clarinet a little higher than usual, so that the bell
extended above and beyond my knees.

   We played a bunch of short 16th-note exercises, near the end of pages 16
and 17 of Klose.  At one point, Brandon paused briefly to comment, "I think
your posture is quite good now, Lucy.  That's a good way to sit."

   I smiled, and couldn't help giggling a little at Brandon's compliment.

   We also played a few scales, in keys such as E-major and B-major.  They
were pretty hard, although I managed.  I'd long ago realized I'd grown way
too accustomed to the left-hand low E and F#, and the right-hand low F. 
With these scales, I had to use the right-hand for low E and the
corresponding middle-staff B.  It felt strange.

   We played a few longer duets, about half-page to full-page long.  They
were very hard.  I always played the top stanza, with Brandon on the bottom
stanza.  The triplet 16th-note variation was particularly difficult, and I
had to take it slow.

   As the lesson ended and I dismantled my clarinet, Brandon assigned me
some new passages, keeping a couple of the old ones, including the last few
measures of pages 16 and 17.  "You are a good player, Lucy.  I'll see you
next week."

   I quivered inside at his compliment and smile.

   "Thank you Mr.  Oregon.  Have a wonderful July 4th!"

   "I will.  I'm performing this afternoon and this evening in the
celebration."

   I practically ran out of the room in my excitement, and down the hallway
to the store proper.  Carol was still there, to my surprise.  She was
browsing through some folders of music.

   "Lucy!  Your playing is wonderful!  You gotta join the band in high
school this fall."

   "I probably will, although I'm scared.  I think it'll be very hard.  I
hope I'm good enough."

   "You are for sure.  Nancy plays clarinet in the band, and you're better
than her.  She's gonna be a senior this fall."

   "What about you, Carol?  Are you going to play?"

   "I haven't decided yet, between band and orchestra."

   "It would be cool being in the band together!"

   "Or maybe you could play clarinet for orchestra.  Nancy tells me that
they take orchestra wind players directly from band."

   We talked a bit more, then Carol said, "I have to meet Nancy and Cindy
at Bruella's now.  Wanna join me?"

   "Sure.  Let me tell the people here, so Ma knows where to find me."

   Bruella's wasn't very far, and we made it there in good time.  Nancy was
there with her friend Cindy, trying on swimsuits.  Cindy had a new bikini
on, and she turned to us as we approached.  "Hey Carol, Lucy!  What do you
think?  Good enough for the celebration today?"

   "You look wonderful," answered Carol.

   I echoed the sentiment.  She certainly looked hot; the sky-blue solid
color matched well her dazzling blonde hair.  Nevertheless, I felt a little
uncomfortable for her, displaying herself in public that way.  The strap of
her bikini bottom around her waist was just a thin string, tied in bow
knots on either side of her hips.  But I kept my reservations to myself.

   Ma and Ruth showed up about fifteen minutes later.  "Thank you for
leaving the message," said Ma.  As our group and Carol's group were both
leaving for Bikini Beach shortly, Ma invited them to join us.  They agreed;
that would be more convenient than taking the bus.

   We all managed to squeeze in the car.  Ruth had to sit on my lap.  I got
the sense that she seemed a little embarrassed sitting on my lap.  True, we
hadn't done it in several months, but we used to do it all the time.  Why
was she reluctant or embarrassed now?

   The Bikini Beach parking lot was already half full when we arrived. 
This was apparently going to be a huge celebration this year.  The vast
majority of visitors were women and girls, but a few men and boys came with
their families.  It weirded me out, imagining how it would be for the boys,
being surrounded by women and girls on all sides.

   All six of us already had membership passes, so we could skip the
incredibly long lines for the ticket booths.  We only had to enter the
moderately long lines for those already with passes.  Carol, Nancy, and
Cindy all had summer memberships, as did Ma, I learned to my consternation.
Ruth, of course, had her eight-year membership, and I had my measly
two-week membership.  That was just so unfair, especially as Ruth seemed a
bit sour on Bikini Beach!  I always had to get a single-day pass, until
Vanessa's mom got me the two-week pass.

   "Why couldn't I get the summer pass, the same as you, Ma, even if you
didn't wish to get me Ruth's eight-year pass?"

   "I can't explain it, Lucy.  But we had to do it this way with you,
believe me." That was most unsatisfying.  Ma refused to say anything
further.  Ruth looked like she wanted to say something, but remained silent
after a glance from Ma.

   They were selling swimwear just inside the turnstiles: black, with red,
white, and blue stars scattered to resemble a fireworks bloom in the form
of the Bikini Beach logo.  Nearly everyone was buying them.  Onepiece suits
and tankinis went for $5.00, bikinis and thongs for $3.00.  Children's
sizes were a dollar less.

   I even noticed a stack of one-piece thong suits.  One of the salesladies
wore one, her bottom completely exposed as the strip went down her crack.
Carol said, "You should try one of those."

   "What?  Ewww!" Imagine that narrow strip creeping up my behind!  I
didn't imagine Pa liking that any more than he liked bikinis, either, what
with my behind completely exposed.

   We slid our passes through the turnstiles, and Ma picked up and examined
the suits.  "Quality workmanship, definitely." So, even though we had
already brought our own suits, we all got the new Bikini Beach ones.  Ruth
and I got one-pieces.  Ma got a tankini, a bit to my surprise.  Carol and
Nancy both got those thong one-pieces, and Cindy got a thong bikini.  It
was very much a steal, for things normally costing $15 to $40 a piece!

   We entered the women's changing facilities, which now seemed a whole lot
bigger than before.  It couldn't be, I know, but it seemed like it.  We
quickly changed into our new swimsuits, and went out to join the
celebration.  

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