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From: Daphne Xu <daphneXU@PSEUDOnym.mixTUREminIATURE.netMUNIST>
Subject: {ASSM} "A Bikini Beach Summer" (07/21) {Daphne Xu}   (tg,magic,mc,off-screen sex,teens,young)
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Date: Tue, 02 Sep 2014 06:10:07 -0400
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   A Bikini Beach Summer

   by Daphne Xu

   Part 7

   The Bikini Beach July 4th Celebration

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

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

   Friday, July 4th, Mid-Afternoon

   Bikini Beach was all dolled up for July 4th -- flags everywhere, and
red, white, and blue colors pervading.

   "Hey, Helen!" shouted Ruth, as she ran off to the left.  Sure enough,
Helen, Vanessa, their mom, and another woman I didn't recognize were there.
All of us followed Ruth to meet their family.

   Vanessa greeted us with hugs.  "Hey Lucy, Carol!  Wow, Carol, that
swimsuit looks awesome!" I agreed.  I couldn't help repeatedly glancing at
her from behind, at her completely bare bottom.  I'd never seen a swimsuit
like that before.  I was reminded of Vanessa's description the first time I
came her, of Bikini Beach as a girls' refuge from boys' ogling eyes -- and
especially of Becky's mirthful reaction.

   Vanessa gestured toward the unfamiliar woman.  "I don't think you've
met--"

   "Vanessa!" interrupted the woman.

   "Mom's friend," Vanessa ended in a bit of a downer tone.  I got the
feeling she was going to say something different.

   "Hey," continued Vanessa.  "Helen and I have to be at the Tropical
Pavilion this evening at seven, to meet the chorus and prepare for the
performance.  So let's look around and see what they've done to this
place."

   "Yes, let's!" echoed a familiar voice.  Jen was there, just behind us.

   Off to the side, I noticed a lot of tables.  They weren't there on
ordinary days.  "Let's go check those out," I suggested.

   The tables were all about career opportunities for women.  Numerous
industries were represented, so many that I was lost in all the visual
noise.  All the booths were manned by women dressed in pretty much the same
pattern: they wore overlarge tee-shirts representing the

   organization they were from, over black bikinis.  I could see through
some white teeshirts that the black bikinis were July 4th ones, the kind
sold at the entrance.

   "Hey, there's NASA," said Alice.

   "Yeah, I wanna see them," said Carol.

   We followed them to NASA's table.  Carol, Alice, and Becky talked with
the two representatives there.  I missed out on most of what they said
understood it as I heard it, but forgot afterwards.  They mentioned
returning to the moon and an ultimate trip to Mars.  One of them did warn
us that, "Actual astronauts are a microscopic minority of NASA engineers,
scientists, and technicians." Everyone else was in some position of
support. Design engineers, communications specialists -- "Testing engineers
are critically important."

   Just as we finished talking to or listening to the NASA women and backed
away, Ruth startled me and asked out of the blue, "Lucy, have you thought
of what you'll study in high school?" I didn't even notice her following
me!

   But I answered.  "Well, I thought of a few things.  Band, definitely. 
Algebra One in ninth grade would satisfy my math requirement.  Then there's
ninth-grade science, and in tenth grade, the three-way science course would
satisfy my science requirement, although I might take the single trimester
environmental issues class later as an elective.  Then--"

   Ruth interrupted.  "I kinda thought, hoped, you would be more interested
in science and math.  Why not take physics, chemistry, possibly biology --
the regular year-long courses, I mean.  Maybe even an AP course.  The
environmental science course as well, of course.  And continue with math
every year."

   Carol, Alice, Becky -- all of us exchanged glances.  "That's almost
exactly my plan for math and science in high school," said Carol.  "I've
already taken Algebra One, in eighth grade.  Did you read my mind or
something?"

   "No, that's just pretty much what anyone studies intending to go into
science or engineering."

   "I knew that from Tracy," said Becky.  "But how did you know?"

   "I've already finished third grade," answered Ruth.

   Huh?  I was thrown such a loop by Ruth's answer that I couldn't think.
Ruth herself winced, but then continued, "I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth.  I'll
just leave it at that."

   We all looked at each other -- had Ruth gone mad or something?  Except
for Vanessa, who had a knowing expression on her face, as if she just
realized something or figured something out.

   Ruth wasn't saying anything further.

   We looked around.  I wasn't interested in the military, which had five
tables set up in a row: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and National Guard.
Some of the other girls went to their tables.  But the CIA was near them. I
thought it might be interesting and exciting to go into spying; I would
help subvert and defeat the bad dictatorships of the world.

   I didn't really know what to ask.  The woman there said, "Excited
adolescents motivated by a sense of heroism and excitement will find
themselves very disappointed." She handed me some literature.  "We want you
to enter with your eyes open.  You have to know how to keep a secret."

   Next to the CIA table was the Peace Corps, advertized as "The Toughest
Job You'll Ever Love." Ruth was there now.  I stepped over there, and Ruth
showed me a handout they gave her.  "The woman there admonished me not to
even think of joining them, or doing anything else, until I'd finished high
school with the best education I could get.  Very good advice, definitely.
Applies to the CIA as well; the military, too.

   "But notice a subtle subversion here." Ruth opened the handout.  "The
Peace Corps not only does not require a security clearance, they look upon
one with suspicion.  They respect the concerns and fears of many countries
that the Peace Corps is used as a cover for spying or sabotage.  They
single out the CIA in particular: if you have ever been in the CIA, you
will probably be barred for life from the Peace Corps."

   That didn't seem fair.  But Ruth continued, "Normally, they would put up
a table for a career, but there would be no table for anyone with
information telling you that it would not be a good idea to go into that
career.  For example, if someone put a table for nightclub dancer, or
escort service, or, oh, I dunno, pleasure palace attendant." Pleasure
palace?  Something like amusement park or Bikini Beach?  I must have looked
blank, as Ruth continued, "Let's not pussyfoot around the bush.  Someone
comes from Reno or Las Vegas and sets up a prostitution table here.  Nobody
gets to set up a table to suggest that maybe prostitution is not such a
good idea."

   "But nobody's put up a table here for ...  prostitution, did they?" This
conversation was distinctly uncomfortable.  And what did Ruth know about
prostitution?

   "No, but they did for the military.  Several tables.  And nobody here to
advertize `Full Metal Jacket' or to tell you that `all you can be' might
just be murderous thug or cannon fodder.  That would also have been the
case for the CIA, except that the Peace Corps has a statement buried in its
requirements, suggesting that the CIA might not be such a good idea."

   Hmm.  Interesting notion.  And Ruth was sounding adult again.  *WHAT*
was going on?

   I continued to look around for a while, getting separated from both the
girls and Ruth, as more and more people came to browse around.

   "I can't believe I'm debating a little girl!" shrieked a loud projected
piercing voice.  I looked around, and everyone else looked around too.  I
wasn't sure even where the voice came from.  "Little girl, we put our lives
on the line to keep the community safe!  Just go back home, go to school,
learn something about the subject."

   I felt very unpleasant about it, but at least it didn't have anything to
do with me.  I kept looking around at the various careers available, until
someone grabbed my hand.  "Lucy." It was Ruth!  "Let's get out of here.  I
can't stand this any more." She was almost in tears.

   We worked our way out of the tables.  "That idiot cop shrieked at me,"
Ruth continued as we left along one of the trails.  Her tears had changed
to fury.

   "Oh my goodness, that was you she was shouting at!"

   "She thought that making someone confess was perfectly fine, while DNA
was just something to get criminals off scott free.  Just like Ma."

   "Ma!?!  What makes you say that?"

   "Personal imagination.  Grrrrr...  Lucy, whenever I say something
idiotic, please remember, `I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth.'"

   I shook my head.  "Ruth, I suppose I'll understand that someday..."

   "Meanwhile, let's go have fun together.  You know, we never did anything
together here at Bikini Beach, just the two of us."

   We were following the trail to the South Sea Adventures.

   "You're right!  We should do this more often.  I've been so involved
with my friends here," I said.

   "It's really tempting to call that cop a pig," Ruth said.  "I told her
it's frame-up, when a bunch of officers terrorize a suspect held in a back
room, to make him confess.  She said I didn't know what I was talking
about.

   "I said, `I most certainly don't,' which wasn't what I intended to say."
Ruth growled, then continued.  "But I used it statistically, and continued:
light shining in his eyes, keeping him awake for days, when he's dying to
sleep, slapping him, giving him a fake lie-detector test and declaring he
failed it.  I can't remember everything I said.  Threatening him with a
gun.

   "She angrily told me that they know from education and experience what
it takes to get a criminal to confess to his crimes.  I broke in -- it gets
an innocent person to confess as well.  Why not use DNA testing, when the
crime is something like rape and murder?  She retorted that DNA was just
something invented by defense attorneys to get criminals off.  That's when
I called her a liar.

   "And that's when she let out her earth-shattering shriek," concluded
Ruth.

   "Oh, my goodness!" We paused, and I gave her a hug.  I kept wondering,
not for the first time.  Was this really my little sister, Ruth?  However
was she able to talk like that?

   At that point, we reached the Lagoon.  We swam and splashed each other,
having fun.  Then we got out and rested, before proceeding on our way.

   We reached the Tropical Waves.  "Ma would never let us swim here, when
she was watching us.  But some of the other parents did."

   We went in until the water was up to my chin, and Ruth was treading
water.  "I can sometimes catch these waves, and body-surf all the way to
the beach."

   WHUMP!  A wave came toward us.  "See if I can catch this one!" She began
swimming toward the beach.  The wave lifted me up and let me down again.

   I looked around, couldn't see Ruth anywhere.  The wave had broken by
then, and the undertow was beginning to pull at me.  While I stood there
resisting the undertow, and looking around for Ruth a bit worried, I heard
her calling out from the beach.  "Lucy, it was perfect!" She was standing
at the edge of the water.  What a relief!  "Try the next one!"

   WHUMP!  Why not?  As the wave approached, I began swimming toward the
beach.  The wave splashed right over me, dunking me, flipping me over.  I
stood up coughing and gasping, when the undertow grabbed me and sat me down
underwater again.  I eventually managed to get up again, and sortof swam
until I could walk, to where Ruth was on the beach.

   "You okay, Lucy?" asked Ruth with concern.

   "Yah, just tired.  I'm gonna relax a little." We both went up the beach,
grabbed one of their beach towels, and lay down."

   "There you are!" exclaimed a furious Ma, waking me out of my doze. 
"Good, at least you went with Lucy rather than going off on your own.  But
at least one of you could have told us.  Lucy, it's fine that you go off on
your own, but please tell *someone* when you take Ruth with you.  I was
worried!" Behind Ma were Mrs.  King, Vanessa, and Helen, I felt embarrassed
at being put on the spot there.

   "Ma, you think I'm going to stay anywhere near there, after being ... 
shrieked at by the ...  police officer?"

   "I'm very sorry, Ma," I said, feeling guilty.  "I should have found you
and told you.  But I didn't want to stay after hearing the shrieking
either, so we went off together."

   "Ruth," said Ma.  "I had no idea her `little girl' was you.  I can see
why you ran off."

   "Mrs.  Cuttington?" said Vanessa.  "I wouldn't debate a police officer
in the first place.  But if I were her age and I had a encounter like that
with one, I would have run off blindly, in any direction, not knowing where
I was going.  Be thankful, she was aware enough to find Lucy before going.
I saw the last part of that exchange, and Ruth was out cold for a little
bit before coming to her senses and running off."

   "Mrs.  Cuttington?" said Helen.  "This is Bikini Beach.  She's perfectly
safe here, and can't get lost."

   "Helen," said her mother, Mrs.  King.  "Moms always worry about their
daughters.  That's part of their job as mothers.  They're always afraid
something bad will happen."

   "No harm done," said Ma.  "And I didn't realize Ruth was her target.  I
won't say any more about it.  Now let's go back to the nice relaxing Lagoon
for now."

   We all followed Ma.  I didn't know that Vanessa and Ruth had held back
for a while, until they both caught up with us at the Lagoon.

   The other girls were there, including Nancy and Cindy.  "Hey, Lucy. 
There you are!" said Carol, hugging me.  "Did you miss the excitement at
the career opportunity tables?"

   "You mean, when the police officer shrieked at Ruth?"

   "Oh my God, that was Ruth there?  I had no idea.  I'm so...  so..."
Carol trailed off, and gave Ruth a hug.  Ruth seemed surprisingly euphoric
now.  I wondered why.

   Nancy said, "A good many of us there were upset, and we all decided to
leave.  We saw Anya emerge, mobbed by many people.  I don't know how she
dealt with the screamer."

   We swam and relaxed in the Lagoon for a while.  Vanessa pulled me to the
side for a couple minutes.  "Ruth told me about her experience with the
cop. That and a number of other things led me to figure out about Ruth, and
she confirmed it.  I would tell you now, but you wouldn't believe it.  I
have to go talk to Anya.  From what Ruth said, she doesn't want your Ma to
know anything about this."

   "Vanessa," I said.  "You're scaring me.  Is something sinister going
on?"

   "Like I said, you wouldn't believe.  But possibly.  Not that we're in
danger, or anything.  Eventually, I'll tell you." Vanessa ran off.

   My worries hovered in the back of my mind while we continued playing. 
Vanessa returned, and got Ruth and me together.  "I tried talking with
Anya, but she snapped that she was too busy.  She was surprisingly curt
with me; usually, she's quite friendly.  I couldn't get enough out that
would get through to her.  I said it was about the shrieking police
officer, and she said the officer was sent home and would be replaced.  I
couldn't get any further.  I tried to see Grandmother, but they wouldn't
even let me in.  The workers told me that everyone was extremely busy,
because of July 4th.

   "It seems as if Bikini Beach itself were sabotaging my attempt to bring
the problem to their attention," Vanessa finished.

   "That sounds about right," growled Ruth.

   "You make it sound as if there's something magical about Bikini Beach,"
I said.

   "There is," answered Ruth and Vanessa simultaneously.  "I will try again
later this evening," continued Vanessa.

   We continued playing at the Lagoon until dinner time.  To my surprise,
Ruth seemed to play with Vanessa and Carol as much as with Me and Helen.

   While we were playing, music began sounding around us.  I couldn't tell
the source, but I guessed that speakers were hidden or camouflaged around
us.  The music seemed to come at us from all directions.  I didn't
recognize the music, but it sounded exciting as befitted a July 4th
celebration.  I suspected someone in the main building was playing a bunch
of CDs.

   Finally it was dinner time.  We all went to the Tiki Hut, at the far end
of the South Sea Adventures, for dinner.  I was at the moment eating in
silence, semi-listening to everything around me, and someone a table over
mentioned getting a lifetime membership in Bikini Beach.

   I would have forgotten about it, but Ruth, sitting next to me, turned
toward that table and said, "It was a trap."

   "Hush, Ruth," said Ma.

   The girl, definitely older than me, replied sarcastically, "Oh?  So you
must think that everyone who gets a lifetime Bikini Beach membership is a
man unwittingly and unwillingly transformed into a girl for the rest of his
life?"

   What the....!?!  Almost everyone around us burst out laughing. 
Eventually, the laughter died down.  "Good comeback," said someone at that
table, and everyone at that table laughed again.  I felt really embarrassed
for Ruth.

   Ruth first looked grumpy, but then her expression changed.  "Guys, I've
always wondered."

   "Yes?" said Becky.

   "In `The Emperor's New Clothes' -- you know, Hans Christian Andersen's
story -- what really happened when the little boy shouted out, `He isn't
wearing any clothes!' I mean, did his mom say, `Hush, dear'?  Or did his
dad take him home, out to the woodshed, and tan his hide?  Or did police
come and take him and his dad way, and toss them into the dungeon?"

   Vanessa said, "That's a good point.  Often, people don't take a child
seriously, when he states an important point.  Not even if it's obvious -
or when it's obvious that he knows what he's talking about."

   I wasn't sure of the relevance, but I was reminded of a passage in the
Bible.  "When I was a child, I spoke as a child.  When I grew up, I spoke
as an adult.  I forget where that appears in the Bible."

   "In the Bible," replied Vanessa, "Jesus says that in order to enter the
Kingdom of Heaven, one must become as a little child."

   "True," I said, a little embarrassed at bringing the subject up.

   After dinner, Vanessa and Helen had to go to the pavilion to prepare for
their chorus concert.  The rest of us went with her, and found the source
of the music that had been surrounding us all the time: the orchestra was
performing there.  We decided to wait and listen and relax.  Their concert
dress was just about the most bizarre I'd ever seen.  They were all women
-- even the tuba players were husky, muscular women -- in black July 4th
Bikini-Beach bikinis!  They wore sandals with heels instead of flipflops.

   I noticed that Ma and Ruth weren't with us.  What happened?  I was sure
Ruth would want to watch Helen in the chorus, just as the girls and I
wanted to watch Vanessa in the chorus.  In fact, she seemed to like Vanessa
as well.

   I put it out of my mind for now.

   As usual when seeing an orchestra or band perform, I spent at least some
time with my attention on the clarinetists.  I crept around toward the
front to get a good view of them.  There were two clarinetists and one bass
clarinetist.

   One of the clarinetists looked familiar.  Oh my, she resembled Brandon a
little -- perhaps Brandon's sister or cousin?  I was having trouble
breathing, from nerves and excitement.

   I returned to the others in a bit of a daze, trying to calm myself and
make myself presentable.  It didn't quite work.  When I got back, Carol
asked, "Lucy, are you okay?"

   Becky said, "Yeah, you look like you saw a ghost!"

   "I was just checking out the clarinet section--"

   "And you saw your Brandon there?" interrupted Becky.

   My face flamed, and I would have fallen hadn't Alice and Jen caught me.
"Hey!  Brandon's a guy!" I exclaimed.

   "So?" said Becky, as they let me down gradually.  "Maybe he's a girl
now."

   What the heck had gotten into Becky!?!  I was at an utter loss for
words. I could only glare.  She'd suddenly gone from silly in a fun way to
full-fledged knuckle-headed bimbo.  Even if she was joking...

   "Becky!" exclaimed Jen, sounding very unJen-like.  Then she continued,
"Perhaps she was his sister," softer, more Jen-like.

   "Yeah," said Alice knowingly.  "When someone's in love, anything and
everything remotely connected to the beloved one is fascinating.  Unless
it's a rival for his affections."

   "Hrmph!" I swatted her -- lightly of course.  "I don't want to talk
about it any more."

   "Girls, leave her alone about it," said Carol.

   "It's okay," whispered Jen.  "You're among friends here." That's what
they always said.  She came over and hugged me.  "Seriously, I know the
feeling," she whispered.

   We continued to listen to their playing, and I kept watching the
clarinet section.  Did that lady there really look like Brandon?  Or was it
my imagination?

   A Bikini Beach worker came nearby.  "Is Lucy Cuttington around?"

   "Yes?" I stood up, wondering nervously if I was in trouble or something.

   The worker approached.  "Your mother is taking Ruth home.  I don't know
anything about it, except that there was some kind of trouble.  She tells
you not to worry, continue to enjoy the evening, and she would be back for
you around ten this evening."

   Not to worry, she said.  "Okay, thanks." Unfortunately, I had no idea
what else to do, what I could do.  I stayed here, although I couldn't help
worrying.

   Eventually, the orchestra had a break, and we went to get sodas.  Then
chorus came on stage, onto a stand behind the orchestra.  Like the
orchestra, they were all women and girls dressed in black bikinis and
heeled sandals.  I spotted Vanessa in back, as one of the tallest women in
the chorus -- she was in the back row, of course.

   Becky and Alice in unison jumped up and shouted, "Yeah, Vanessa!" Jen
did so an instant later, just as everything went quiet for an instant - and
sat down immediately, covering her face in embarrassment.

   I spotted Helen in front, in a line of little girls.

   They sang various patriotic songs like "Yankee Doodle," "Grand Old
Flag," and "I'm a Yankee Doodle Dandy." Most of the songs were familiar
from elementary school singing, even though I'd forgotten many of the
lyrics.

   There was another ten-minute break, during which we went to get more
sodas and I slipped down to look at the clarinetist again.  This time, only
younger girls in the chorus appeared.  They all looked like elementary
school-girls.  Vanessa wasn't there, but Helen was.  About a third of the
girls came down in front of the orchestra, where microphones and stands had
been placed during the break.

   They gave a stage reading of a musical play called, "Let George Do It."
Some of it was wincingly silly, but mostly I found it cute and funny.  It
was about George Washington and the American Revolution.

   Afterwards, the girls returned to their positions in the back and the
rest of the girls returned, and they sang a few more songs.  Vanessa had a
nice solo part; she could really sing!

   The show eventually ended, and we went to the Green Room to meet the
performers and congratulate Vanessa.  It seemed as if everyone in the
audience went there as well.  My guess was that, as the show was broadcast
over the entire water park, only those with family members and friends
there actually came to the Pavilion to see them.

   Vanessa finally met us.  After we congratulated her on her solo, Helen
came up and asked, "Where is Ruth?  She promised to watch me tonight."

   I answered, "I'm very sorry, Helen.  I'm afraid Ma had to take her
home."

   Vanessa added, "If they've recorded this, I'll try to get a copy for
her."

   "Thanks, Vanessa," said Helen.

   Becky said, "Lucy wants to see the orchestra.  She thinks one of the
clarinet players is related to Brandon."

   I blushed and sat down hard.

   "When one is love, anything and everything associated with him is
interesting and fascinating," repeated Alice, to further my embarrassment.

   "Let's go and take a look," said Vanessa.  She led off, I managed to get
back up, and the rest of us followed.  We shortly reached another room
where the orchestra members were cleaning up.  We approached the two
clarinetists; I held back, short of breath and stomach fluttering."

   Both clarinetists turned.  "Oh, hello, Miss.  Good job with that solo,"
said the vaguely-Brandon-look-alike young lady to Vanessa.

   "Thank you.  My friend thinks one of you resembles someone she knows, a
clarinetist."

   The clarinetist looked over us, and her eyes lit up in recognition of
me. "Oh, hello Lucy.  I'm glad you could come, and I hope you enjoyed the
show."

   I could feel my eyes widening.  How the heck did she know me?  "Um, I
was wondering, um," I flushed and couldn't continue.

   Becky continued for me, "Lucy thought you looked a bit like her clarinet
teacher, Brandon Oregon.  She wondered if you were related."

   The lady looked around, and led me off to a corner of the room.  The
girls followed.

   "Actually, I am Brandon Oregon," she said, in a hushed tone.

   Flame-burning-face...  limp...  motionless...  faint...  sick... 
nausea...  light and dark patterns...  "Maybe he's a girl now" over and
over...  weak knees...  the world spinning...  Vague sounds from the
distance...  "Lucy, Lucy!" Repeated light and darkness.  Brandon Oregon as
a pretty lady in a bikini.

   Feeling air pulses on my face, I realized that it might be a good idea
to breath.  I took a long, slow, deep breath -- something I learned years
back to do just before tests.

   I heard various sentence fragments: "...  think she's recovering..."
"... blue screen of death..." "...major-league crush..." "...  I think
she'll be okay."

   Someone was holding me up.  Vanessa on my left, and Carol on my right. I
grabbed onto them for support, sagging down in the process.  I would have
fallen had Vanessa not been supporting me just then.  I was gently lowered
to the floor, where I curled into a fetal position.

   I looked up; everyone was looking down at me with expressions of
concern.

   "Wow!" exclaimed Becky.  "I've never seen anyone turn green before!"

   "Becky!" exclaimed Carol.

   The pretty lady, still in her bikini, who'd claimed to be Brandon was
also leaning over me.  "I'm so sorry, Lucy.  I just wasn't thinking..." she
trailed off.

   Oh God, the mortification!

   "I guess you didn't know," continued Brandon.  "Bikini Beach turns any
male who enters female.  Some of us in the orchestra are ordinarily male.
By tomorrow morning, we'll all be back to normal.

   I stared blankly, "Maybe he's a girl now," still echoing through my
mind.

   Vanessa came to my aid.  "We're her friends.  She'll understand better
if we talk about it ourselves, okay?"

   I took a couple deep breaths, and then stood up with Carol and Vanessa's
help.

   I followed the girls out of the pavilion, still feeling a little faint
and humiliated, and weak.  The girls found a relatively quiet place off to
the side of the Bikini Beach activity, where we could sit, rest, and talk.

   The images kept invading my mind -- Brandon as a pretty lady.  Brandon
in a bikini.  Brandon seeing me in a swimsuit, although (thank goodness)
not in a bikini as in my nightmares.  Brandon as all female.

   I gradually came to my senses.  I must have misunderstood Men don't
change to women, and boys don't change to girls.  This is the real world,
not the Land of Oz, where Tip was transformed into Ozma.

   And that girl's response to Ruth at dinner was nothing more than a
sarcastic retort -- right?

   "You okay, Lucy?" asked Jen, shyly.

   "I guess so.  Did I mishear, was someone pulling my leg?  It just can't
be that..." I was by now embarrassed to say this.  "Bikini Beach changes
boys to girls.  I mean, this is the real world!"

   "Well, if that lady clarinetist was pulling your leg, she did a very
good job at it," said Alice.  "After all, she recognized you, she looked
enough like Brandon to raise your curiosity, and she played clarinet like
Brandon -- and then claimed to be Brandon.  I agree, though.  Boys changing
to girls is unbelievable.  I would have accused those who thought otherwise
of having read too many sex-change stories.  However, now..." Alice trailed
off.

   Jen commented, "I've heard of GIRL -- G,I,R,L -- as an acry--, um
ancro--, uh"

   "Acronym?" suggested Carol.

   "Yeah, that's it.  For `Guy In Real Life.' So some of the girls here at
Bikini Beach may be GIRLs."

   I couldn't help laughing along with everyone else, even though I was
still feeling a little shaky.

   "So, is any of you a GIRL?" I asked facetiously, with a dose of sarcasm.

   "I am," answered Becky.

   "WHAT!?!" I exclaimed.  I couldn't wrap my mind around it -- Becky a
guy? I was having trouble breathing again.  On the other hand, it was
adding up.  Becky's bimbo-headed comment about Brandon being a girl turned
out correct, according to the lady clarinetist.  Being a GIRL herself would
give Becky reason to seriously consider that possibility.

   "I didn't tell anyone -- not until now.  I don't think anyone knew
except my aunt -- and the people here who did it, such as Grandmother and
Anya."

   "One wouldn't think of it to look at you," said Alice.  "You're all
girl."

   "I really am a guy -- okay, I'm a girl right now," Becky giggled.  "But
I really was a guy.  I was sent to spend the summer with my aunt -- and
here I am.  She took me to Bikini Beach, and got me a summer membership. 
Can't say I was as shocked as you, Lucy, when it happened, because I didn't
faint, but I was very surprised and disturbed.  Both Grandmother -- she's
the Founder of Bikini Beach -- Grandmother and Aunt Yuko had to explain
that my change lasts the length of the pass, plus several hours.  My real,
uh, male name," she giggled again and looked straight at me, "is Bruce."

   "Wait a minute," I said apprehensively.  "What was your last name
again?" It couldn't be.  It just couldn't be.

   "Miura.  I'm Bruce Miura."

   "No-no, you just can't be!" Becky giggled at my surprise.  "Anyway,
Bruce doesn't giggle like that."

   "Nah, that's just Becky.  Bikini Beach changed me.  I was initially
disturbed at my personality change, but then I decided to live it up and
enjoy it.  It's usually fun to giggle and laugh it out.  Anyway, remember
the Gettysburg Address?  You teased me into reciting it before I was fully
ready."

   "Oh, you did well.  Only slipped up a moment in the middle, that's all.
But then there was that Valentine's Day--"

   "Don't mention that!" Becky shrieked, even with a giggle.

   "Now, I'm very curious," said Carol.  "What happened?"

   "I'm not telling," Becky and I said in unison, then burst out laughing.

   By now, I was convinced that Becky really was the Bruce I knew.  And now
that I knew, I saw the distinct resemblance.  Bruce was one of the few
people at school I could call friend last year.  I never saw him as
boyfriend material, and I'm sure he didn't see me as girlfriend material.
We were in the same science class, routinely paired together.  We
occasionally chatted, and sometimes sat together for lunch.

   "It's really amazing the change Bikini Beach made in you," I said.  "I
don't think I would have recognized you even if I knew about Bikini Beach
changing people, even though I see the resemblance now."

   "When Bikini Beach changes someone," said Vanessa, "they make it
complete.  The GIRL becomes a true girl."

   "You knew about Becky?" I asked, almost in outrage.

   "Not about her, but about Bikini Beach transformations," she answered.

   "Of course you would know, *VERnon*," said Carol.

   My jaw dropped, Jen's eyes widened, and Alice said, "Eh?"

   "Okay, okay, I have to admit it," said Vanessa.  "I'm a GIRL as well. 
That is, a guy.  But how did you know?"

   "Hey, I was with you -- Vernon -- when you got your two-week pass," said
Carol.

   "I was with her too," I complained.  "I distinctly remember Vanessa
getting it, not some guy named Vernon."

   "You knew, but didn't tell us?" asked Alice.

   "Heck," said Carol.  "Would you have believed me had I told you, `Hey,
everyone.  Our beloved friend Vanessa is really a guy'?"

   "No, I guess you're right," said Alice.

   "Excuse me?" I interjected.  "Did anyone hear what I just said?  I
distinctly remember Vanessa getting her two-week pass."

   "That's another thing about Bikini Beach transformations," Vanessa said.
"Most people think that the boy was always the girl.  Only a few remember
otherwise.  Mom remembers that I was Vernon.  Dad doesn't, thank goodness.
To tell the truth, I don't know about Helen.  I have no idea how Bikini
Beach decides who should remember and who should forget.  Why did Carol
remember, but Lucy forget?  I haven't the faintest.

   "For that matter, why did Lucy remember Bruce but not recognize Becky as
him, while she remembered me as Vanessa when I was actually Vernon, and
Carol remember Vernon but recognize me as him?  Again, beats the heck out
of me."

   "That's awful!  Mind control!" More of that.  I was the victim of mind
control, made to forget.  I was getting really scared.  What else was I
made to forget?  How else was my thinking controlled?  "Animal Magnetism,
hypnotism, and so forth" came to mind.

   Vanessa hugged me.  "Don't worry about it, Lucy.  I'm still the same
person, Vernon or Vanessa."

   "Did it occur to anyone," asked Alice in a huff, "that we've been
changing clothes right in front of each other?  Right in front of Becky or
Bruce, and Vanessa or Vernon!" Alice suddenly drew herself together,
wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling tight.  She was mad and
embarrassed.

   In fact, now that Alice mentioned it, I felt violated and mortified
myself.  We were always brought up never to let boys see see us naked.  In
fact, being skimpily dressed meant being shamefully exposed.  Pa always
emphasized that.

   Becky giggled.  "That's one of the perks of being a GIRL at Bikini
Beach." She leered at us, and stuck her tongue out.  "Seriously, though--"

   "You?  Serious, Becky?" snarked Carol.

   "Ah-HEM, *SERiously*," continued Becky, giving Carol a dirty look, "It
got old after a couple weeks.  There's only so much titillation one can
receive with naked girls, before it gets old -- and there was always my own
self to ogle in the mirror.  Now, I find it more exciting and
fantasyinducing playing, roughhousing, talking, hugging, even simply being
with, the best, loveliest, prettiest, greatest girls in the world.  Heck,
even in blue-jeans and tee-shirt, you're all the best ever."

   I think we all blushed at that flattery.  I know I did.

   "But still..." said Alice.

   "Yeah, it's still interesting and fascinating to see and observe the
sheer variety of female anatomy, something completely out of my experience
before.  And didn't you find it exciting, perhaps deliciously forbidden, to
show yourself to a boy?  And the boy would show you his?"

   I blushed.  I'd heard of the naughtiness of "playing doctor," but I'd
never done it myself.

   "Yeah, but that's different," said Alice.  "We knew about the boys
seeing us then; we weren't caught by surprise.  Also, you never showed us
yours."

   "I can't help that," said Becky.  "I don't *have* mine." She leaned
back, spread her legs, and lifted herself into a bridge.  "But I promise,
once my pass expires and I become Bruce again, and get mine back, I'll let
you - any of you -- see it.  We will stay together, won't we, when the
summer's over?" She sounded sad, almost pleading.

   "Of course, dear," said Vanessa, reaching over to hug her.  "We'll stay
together forever." We found ourselves in a tearful group hug.

   Jen almost whispered, looking rather embarrassed, "I don't mind Vanessa
seeing me, even if she really is Vernon." She blushed.

   "I'm quite, um, flattered to hear that," said Vanessa, hugging her with
tears in her eyes.

   "Okay, okay," Becky said.  "If this helps, one of the things Grandmother
told me was that I would forget intimate details when I changed back -
something like that.  I just remembered that -- only the gist." Becky
sighed tragically.  "I suppose that means that if I ever get to have sex
before I change back, I'll forget about it."

   I tried to maintain a poker face at that.  Was Bruce ever like that? 
Certainly not to me.

   Vanessa said, "Maybe she didn't mean that so much as forgetting or at
least fogging out on the women's room and everything one sees there, and
similar situations.  For me at least, the few days I was back as Vernon, my
memory of the women's changing room seemed fogged out.  And as Vanessa, I
couldn't work up any interest in seeing women and girls changing, no matter
how hard I tried.  I eventually gave up.  I can't seem to view naked and
bikini-clad girls as -- well, how I viewed them as a guy.  And back as
Vernon, I definitely think of the five gorgeous girls, but I remember more
the fun and games and roughhousing than the attire.  I do remember some
things I did and said, and wondered how the heck I could possibly have done
them.  My personality has changed, in ways that disturbed me."

   "You've always been the Team Mom," said Jen.

   "That's one of the major changes Bikini Beach made in me.  Vernon was
never like that."

   "Okay guys," said Becky.  "Now that Vanessa and I have bared our inner
souls and revealed our shameful secrets, is anyone else here a GIRL?"

   "Not me," answered Jen.

   "I'm a straight girl." I shuddered.  "I can't even imagine what it would
be like to be a boy, with those...  those...  those physical differences!"
I didn't have more than a vague idea of what boys had down there.  I'd only
occasionally seen a naked baby.  Pa was the only male in my family, and he
always made sure never to let Ruth or me see him unclothed.  It was
naughty, obscene to let someone, especially of the opposite sex, see you
naked.

   "I'm a pure girl, and I love it!" exclaimed Alice.  "I wouldn't have it
any other way." The rest of us laughed.  I was glad not to have the
attention on me.

   "I'm female as well," said Carol.

   "Another thing," said Vanessa.  "Becky, did you ever have any trouble
saying your male name?"

   "No.  Why?"

   "Starting out, I simply couldn't say `Vernon'.  Whenever I tried, it
always came out as `Vanessa.' But I couldn't say that I was Vernon, or that
my male name was Vernon -- whenever I tried saying `Vernon' it always came
out as `Vanessa'."

   "Strange," said Becky.  "I never had any trouble saying `Bruce'.  In
fact, I chose Becky as my girl name myself, only an hour or so after I came
and changed, when my aunt warned me for third or fourth time that someone
else might choose for me, or even Bikini Beach itself might choose."

   "More mind control," I said, suddenly fearful.

   "Undoubtedly.  I finally worked up the nerve to approach Anya and ask
for my mental block to be removed," continued Vanessa.  "Even though Anya's
a high officer here, the granddaughter of Grandmother, and apparently a
powerful mage in her own right, turns out she's a very nice, very friendly
lady -- most of the time, at least." I could tell she was thinking back to
her earlier experience this afternoon.  "She explained that it was to avoid
inadvertently using one's male name, embarrassing oneself and saying
something ridiculous.  It was a couple weeks after I began coming here, and
she was nice enough to remove the block.  I've never had the problem of
inadvertently calling myself Vernon.

   "However, I have occasionally heard -- well, just like this afternoon,
Lucy: `I'm not Ruth, I'm Ruth.' It sounds just as ridiculous, but

   there's nothing to prevent that.  It's something an unwilling,
involuntary GIRL might say, trying to tell who she really is but having her
mind blocked."

   "Wait a minute!  You're not telling me that Ruth is..." I just couldn't
say it.

   "A changed person," said Vanessa.  "A GIRL?" said Becky simultaneously.
"Yeah, Ruth is a GIRL," said Vanessa.  "When she started talking about
high-school science, I was pretty sure of it.  And when she said, `I'm not
Ruth, I'm Ruth,' deliberately as a clue, that sealed it for me.  And she
confirmed it this afternoon, when talking with me.  She is an unwilling
GIRL, and a smart one too, to leave that kind of clue.

   "Unfortunately, that clue goes nowhere with anyone who hasn't at least
heard rumors about Bikini Beach changes.  Lucy, if I told you this
afternoon, you wouldn't have believed me -- at least, I don't think you
would have."

   "She can't be a GIRL.  She's been my little sister ever since she was
born!  I remember so much -- dinners, breakfasts, lunches, Sunday School
and Church when she was old enough.  Walking to school together when I was
in fifth grade and she in Kindergarten.  Ballet together the last two
years. She was always around!"

   "Did you notice any recent strangeness in her?  Any personality changes?
Saying strange things?" asked Vanessa.

   "Today, she said strange things," I said, feeling faint.  "The debate
she got in with the cop.  Making criminals confess.  It sounded almost
adult.  In fact, except when playing, she's sounded rather serious these
past weeks.  Sometimes temperamental."

   "Can you say when it began?" asked Jen softly.

   "She got quite angry and temperamental when we visited here the first
time.  Then shouting about mental malpractice and such." I took a deep
breath, trying to remember.  "There were times when I wondered if she was
adult."

   "Astronomy magazine," said Carol.

   "Oh yes.  Talk of DNA.  Talk of the CIA and the military.  `The
Emperor's New Clothes.'" I wasn't going to mention prostitution.  Then
there was that time she caught me with the naughty teen girl's magazine.  I
wasn't going to mention that either; that had been so embarrassing.  "Now I
remember that time, it was while we walked home from ballet.  She kept
trying to get me to remember -- she had an awful time saying it, but I
managed to figure out the name was Peter.  Wait a minute, you're not
telling me Ruth was really a guy named Peter?" It made me sick to think of
it, but it was beginning to make way too much sense.

   "Ruth's male name was one thing she was unable to convey to me this
afternoon," said Vanessa.  "But it seems as though he was accused of a
major crime, got off based on DNA evidence, and then your Ma brought him
here to change him to Ruth.  From what I hear about some Bikini Beach
changes, not only is the change to girl complete, the reality-shift is
complete as well.  Only a few persons remember what really happened.  I
think we should go and try to visit Anya again.  She might not be so busy
now."

   It was just beginning to get dark now, and we had probably an hour
before Bikini Beach closed tonight.  I got up, feeling sick to my stomach,
and we made our way back to the entrance building.

   "Anya's usually quite friendly," said Vanessa.  "This afternoon was
quite exceptional.  I hope it doesn't happen tonight."

   That didn't help my nerves.  Sick to my stomach, I trailed the other
girls into the building, and Vanessa asked to see Anya.  At least I wasn't
alone.

   Becky said in a soft, haunting tone, "Grandmother's in here somewhere. I
hope we don't encounter her."

   A pretty lady whom I'd seen several times as saleslady emerged from an
office.  "Hello, please come in." As we entered, the lady continued, "I'm
very sorry for my mood this afternoon when you visited, Vanessa.  I was
just busy, juggling about half a dozen things."

   "Anya, these are my friends -- Jen, Carol, Alice, Becky, and Lucy
Cuttington."

   "I'm pleased to meet you all," said Anya.

   "Lucy is the older sister of the girl I tried to ask you about this
afternoon, Ruth.  Bikini Beach changed Ruth, probably from an older boy or
man named Peter.  Lucy here was extremely disturbed, but may have been
persuaded.  Please be gentle with her; she didn't even know about Bikini
Beach transformations until today, and was hit hard several times.  As for
Ruth, I think she was the victim of a miscarriage of justice.  Her debate
with the police officer this afternoon may have been based on Peter's own
experiences.  That must have been difficult, because she's been unable to
actually tell what happened to her as Peter."

   Anya went to the computer at her desk.  "Let me check here." She moved
the mouse around and typed into the computer for a couple minutes.  "Yes,
Ruth was originally Peter, a 17-year-old boy.  Her mother requested the
change because Peter had raped and murdered a girl, and his lawyer had
gotten him off, so now he was beyond the reach of the law."

   Vanessa said, "Ruth indicated that DNA testing got her off, although she
couldn't actually say that.  She also hinted at horrible experiences at the
police station; again she couldn't actually say that, but could just barely
signal confirmation when I asked about them."

   Anya typed some more, and then continued, reading from the computer,
"When his mom brought him to Bikini Beach on June 21, our scanners detected
enraged murderous thoughts in Peter.  As part of his transformation to
Ruth, we suppressed those thoughts."

   Enraged murderous thoughts!  Oh, oh, oh, blast!  Ruth?  I couldn't
believe it.  I collapsed against the wall, bawling my heart out.  I only
vaguely recall vomiting into a bowl someone held in front of me.

   I ran outside, ignoring the shouts of "Lucy!" from behind me, running
down the first trail I saw, not fully aware of things, still bawling.  It
was dark out now.  I just continued running and running.  I finally stopped
at a pool I didn't recognize, probably because of the darkness.  I still
had the taste of vomit in my mouth, so I washed my mouth out.  It didn't
work completely, but it was better.

   I just lay down on the sand next to the pool, and curled up.  Ruth? 
Enraged murderous thoughts?  I had a big brother like that?  Maybe he was a
murderer who got off scott free?  My crying was now reduced to soft
weeping.

   In the back of my mind, I heard the 1812 Overture begin.  Normally, I
loved that piece.  But now, I tried to shut it out.  Ruth, formerly Peter,
a dangerous mad murderer?  The idea kept at me, and I couldn't let go of
the thought, no matter how hard I tried.

   The music played itself through, no matter how I tried to put it out of
my mind.  I jumped in fright and terror at the nearby cannon that went off
in time with the music -- and hit someone standing over me.  I freaked out,
and pushed her off and ran off, before recognizing the voice of the person
who kept calling out, "Lucy!  Lucy!"

   I decided to stop and let her catch up with me.  It was Carol.  "Lucy, I
don't believe that Ruth was a murderer, not as Peter I mean.  There's got
to be some kind of misunderstanding If you want me to leave you alone, I
will.  I'll understand if you decide you hate us all now."

   "No, Carol, I couldn't hate you.  I couldn't hate any of you." I cried
into her bosom as she held me.  Not even the blasting cannons, or "The
Stars and Stripes Forever" that followed could affect me now.  I only
barely noticed the fireworks that exploded in the sky at the end.  And it
took Carol to tell me that they were closing, and we'd better head back to
the changing room.

   I met the other girls on the way back.  Becky jumped and hugged me,
exclaiming, "I was scared -- we all were scared -- you didn't want to see
us again.  I hope that's not the case."

   They all hugged me.  I realized I was among friends again.

   I got back into that fancy skirt and blouse, sickly reminded of all I'd
taken today, including Brandon as a pretty lady in a bikini.

   I remembered we had to take Carol, Nancy, and Cindy back with us.  I
found a public phone and called home, to see when Ma would be coming to get
us.  Nobody answered, to my concern.  Surely at least Pa and Ruth were home
now; wouldn't one of them answer?

   Ma showed up shortly, we all piled into the car.  I was squeezed in the
back seat between Carol and Cindy.  It took a while to exit the parking
lot, and then Nancy had to direct Ma to their house.  That took a while. 
We dropped them off, and I hugged Carol good night.

   That left just me and Ma in the car.  I wanted to stay in the back seat
and lay down and sleep and perhaps fade out of existence.  But Ma insisted
I sit with her in the front seat.  She insisted on telling me what happened
with Ruth.

   I missed the offense Ruth had allegedly done, but I understood what
followed.  "Ruth wouldn't let me spank her." No surprise there, having seen
Ruth's kicks and punches.  "So I did something I'd vowed never to do -- and
so far never did with you two girls until now.  I had Pa punish her when we
got home.

   "Pa took her to the bathroom for a bare-bottom spanking with his
hairbrush, which I thought was a bit much, hearing how she screamed in
pain. I hardened my heart to it because of the way she fought us trying to
spank her." I got angry at that myself, and growled a bit.  "That would
have been the end of things, except that right afterwards, Ruth got violent
and kicked Pa, hurting him pretty badly.

   "We had a fellow Firmlove family come for Ruth.  She's spending the
night at their home.  Pa is doing mental work and reading `Science and
Health' to heal potential damage done by Ruth.  If necessary, we may have
to call Mrs.  P-- to work for us."

   I felt like I was about to cry.  I tried to hold it in.

   Ma and Pa's bedroom lights were on when we got home.  Otherwise, the
house seemed empty and silent.  I went inside and up to my own room, and
changed into my nightgown.  I was tired from everything at Bikini Beach,
everything that went wrong.
   I cried myself to sleep.  

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