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From: Daphne Xu <daphneXU@PSEUDOnym.mixTUREminIATURE.netMUNIST>
Subject: {ASSM} "A Bikini Beach Summer" (12/21) {Daphne Xu}   (tg,magic,mc,off-screen sex,teens,young)
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Date: Fri, 05 Sep 2014 06:11:04 -0400
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   A Bikini Beach Summer

   by Daphne Xu

   Part 12

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

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

   Wednesday, July 16th

   Ma and Pa had discovered that the girls and I had spent that Friday
sleepover evening naked.  I was horribly humiliated now, lying barebottom
over Pa's lap in the bathroom.  He'd already yanked down my swimming trunks
that I was wearing from Bikini Beach.  And now, gargantuan Pa was going to
slam his gargantuan hairbrush down on my bottom -- bristle-side down, of
course.

   Any second now, I would re-experience the pain of the hairbrush from my
childhood.  I remembered the hairbrush of my childhood slamming and me
screaming in pain.  And Pa was about to slam the hairbrush down on my
bottom.

   I was doing Taekwondo.  This couldn't be allowed to happen.  Not without
a fight.

   Pa was about to slam the hairbrush down on my bottom.

   I aimed a karate-chop at Pa's side.  My right arm was plowing through
molasses.

   Pa was about to slam the hairbrush down on my bottom.

   I tried to push myself off his lap.  I rolled off very slowly...

   I was standing in front of Pa, naked, in a fighting stance.  I lifted my
front leg forward through molasses again, up for a front side-kick into
Pa's lower stomach area, preparing to follow up if necessary with a
round-house kick.

   I woke up in a sweat.  It was just a dream.  Another.  Nasty. 
Nightmare. In the dream, why had I remembered getting naked with all the
girls?  Becky, in her usual sassiness, had suggested getting naked, but the
others had objected.  I was there, the lone male, and two of them,
including Becky, were GIRLs.  My phobia of being seen naked had flared up.

   Becky had removed her bikini and gotten naked anyway.  To my surprise,
Carol had joined her.  I suspect she did it to keep my attention away from
Becky.  I felt a bit guilty about not joining Carol when she removed her
bikini, but more guilty -- or more fearful of Ma and Pa finding out - about
being in a sleepover with naked girls and bikini-clad girls.

   As far as I knew, Ma and Pa never knew that any of us had gotten naked
during the sleepover.

   Actually, I did get naked with Carol a couple times.  The first time was
the first night after waking up from a wet dream/nightmare where I was
kissing and making out with Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe, my transformed
clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon.  I'd woken up to find Carol kissing me in
her sleep.  She'd promptly woken up, and we'd both gone to the bathroom to
relieve ourselves and clean off our swimwear, and had gone back to sleep
nude next to each other.  I was so sleepy at the time that I thought
nothing of it.

   The second time was after we got back from shopping, and we changed out
of our street clothes -- or in my case, out of that silly boy's dress
they'd got me into -- and back into our swimwear.  Carol's and mine were
both hanging in the bathroom, and for some reason it didn't occur to either
of us for me to wait and take my turn after she changed.  We went in
together.  I did get to look her up and down as we changed, and noticed
that she had the perfect body.  Of course, as usual, her wonderful smile
lit up everything and made it all the prettier.

   Bizarrely, the point when I went all bug-eyed over Carol was neither of
these times, but when she appeared that morning in a sleeveless top, jeans,
and sneakers.  I suppose it helped that her clothes rather smoothly
followed and accentuated her curves, but still.

   "See anything you like?" she'd asked with her winning smile.

   I could only nod slowly, I'd been in such a daze.

   I remembered getting home Saturday evening after the sleepover and the
day at Bikini Beach.  Pa greeted me with a long lecture.  "I would have
vetoed your participation had I known -- said an absolute no." "It's one
thing to make friends with girls; it's another thing entirely to spend the
night with girls." "I'm very happy that you've actually made friends this
summer, and played actively with them.  You've grown up as too much of a
loner." "I'll even admit to being a bit jealous or envious of you having a
harem of girls.  Nothing like that ever happened with me when I was growing
up."

   I'd maintained an embarrassed, frozen, silence throughout the lecture,
particularly mortified at the "harem" suggestion.  At Bikini Beach, and
most of the time with them elsewhere, I was just "one of the girls" -- in
the metaphorical sense.  Also, two of the girls were actually GIRLs.  I
didn't say any of that, though.  It was true most of the time at the
sleepover as well.

   Pa ended the lecture with, "You promise me, Luke, you won't do it before
marriage?" "It" was have sex.  Intimidated and humiliated by the lecture, I
promptly agreed to the promise.

   Awake now from the nightmare, I saw that it was still dark outside.  I
got

   up, went to the bathroom, then returned to bed.  I

   fell asleep hoping I wouldn't have another nightmare.

   .  .  .  .

   I woke up again in the morning, and lay in bed a little while.  Someone
knocked lightly on the door, and I called out, "Come in, Ruth!" She
entered, still in her pajamas.

   We'd eavesdropped on Ma's Firmlove group meeting last night -- and also
when Ma and Mrs.  Winstead had talked alone.  To my embarrassment, Ma and
Mrs.  Winstead were about to get into a catfight.  Catfights are exciting
and arousing -- but not when one's your Ma.

   We overheard definitely that Bikini Beach had changed my big brother
Peter into Ruth.  Then on July 4th, something had happened to lead Ma and
Mrs.  Winstead to have Bikini Beach shift reality and change all our
memories of Ruth, as well as all our memories of Peter.  Apparently, Mrs.
Winstead still remembered, but inadvertently, the realityshift had hit Ma
and she didn't remember any more.

   I'd wanted to go punch Ma and Mrs.  Winstead out, but instead, I'd
stayed hidden behind the pantry door in the kitchen.  I felt like going and
punching Ma out now, and said as much.

   "Luke, you really don't want to do that," replied Ruth.  "Ma wouldn't
remember why, and Pa's here as well."

   Apparently Peter had been accused of raping and murdering Alice's cousin
Jill.  Had he been changed to Ruth to protect him?  To punish him?  To
reform him?  Everything Mrs.  Winstead said suggested that it was the
latter two, rather than the first, but I couldn't remember what.

   "We have to discuss things," continued Ruth, sitting on the bed next to
me, as I sat up.

   "What Ma and Mrs.  Winstead said about you in particular," I replied. 
"You as Peter."

   "Yeah," she said.

   "I think we should go to the library this morning, and talk about it
there, or maybe the mall, where Ma and Pa won't hear us."

   The Mental Work was playing as usual during breakfast, and during its
"What is God?" passage, a depressing thought came to mind.  My two-week
pass for Bikini Beach had expired.  Would I continue to see the girls?

   Well, Carol definitely.  I couldn't help smiling, feeling something like
- well, very happy.  Last week, she always managed to catch me either
before or after Taekwondo, and always walked home with Ruth and me.  I
blushed at the memory of the sleepover and the things I saw and did --
hopefully I concealed it drinking down my orange juice.

   When we'd met again Monday, both of us had blushed and frozen in
embarrassment, before we finally laughed, and hugged each other.  "What was
Friday remains Friday," we agreed.

   My dick was hard under my jeans.  Fortunately, the table concealed it.

   That train of thought led to my the clarinet lesson I attended Friday.
I'd seen Mr.  Oregon at the July 4th celebration at Bikini Beach, and he'd
become Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe in the orchestra.  I'd gone catatonic
with shock.  What was particularly bizarre at the time was that a uniquely
bimbo-headed comment of Becky's, "Maybe he's a girl now," turned out to be
unbelievably right.  Thinking of a teacher as sexy was always embarrassing
for me, and going to last Friday's clarinet lesson had been a most
nerve-wracking, frightening, terrifying prospect.  Fortunately, the
experience itself turned out not so bad.

   Mental Work reached the Mental Malpractice section, and I glanced over
at Ruth.  Our eyes met, Ruth gestured at Ma, and I nodded.  I was angry at
Ma, but did my best not to show it.

   The Mental Work ended, and we had to listen to the Lesson Sermon, with
me reading the Bible passages -- I'd recorded them with Ma on Monday.  I
couldn't stand to hear myself; I sounded like a stuffed turkey.  I tried to
shut it out, and think more about my exciting memories at the sleepover,
but my voice always intruded.

   The end of the Lesson-Sermon ended my musings.  Daisy came over to play,
and when she found out we were going to the library, wanted to go as well.

   "Children, don't forget your activities today," said Ma.

   "Let's change now," said Ruth.  "The mall's not far from the library, so
we can go directly there."

   "That's a plan," said Ma.  "I'll drive you to the library.  Luke, I hold
you responsible for getting Ruth to her ballet class on time."

   "I promise.  You can count on me." I would actually have to get Ruth
there early, to get to Taekwondo on time.  "Let's get changed."

   I changed into my white Taekwondo uniform, and Ruth got into her leotard
and tights, adding the wraparound skirt to make her respectable for the
library.  All three of us sat in the back seat when Ma drove us to the
library.  "Make sure you get Ruth to ballet on time," she admonished again.

   The original plan was to discuss Peter and Bikini Beach, to see what we
could figure out and what we could do, but we couldn't do that with Daisy
around.  I was returning some books, and Ruth dumped her books on top of
mine and dragged Daisy off.

   I set the books on the counter, checking that none were overdue, and
went off toward the adult section, my stomach aching and fluttering with
excitement.  Did I dare find and read Forbidden Flowers?  Did I want to
risk getting caught?

   I went to the science fiction and fantasy section and browsed a little,
before working up my nerve to go to that section with Forbidden Flowers and
the other sex books.

   Finally, I dared.  The excitement got just too much to resist.  I was in
the middle of a favorite fantasy, when...

   "Oh, I knew that had to be you, Luke!" came Carol's voice from behind,
speaking softly as appropriate in a library.  "I recognized your Taekwondo
clothes.  Say, what's that you're reading?"

   Mortified at being caught, tried to cover and hide the book, and keep it
away.  "Oh come on, let me see." She pulled it out from under me. 
"Forbidden Flowers: More Women's Sexual Fantasies." She laughed.  "Sounds
exciting!" She looked at the passage I was reading, and took a minute to
read through it herself.  "Hee hee, a religious pervert corrupting an
innocent girl, having the Holy Spirit possess her in a frenzy of religious
ecstasy."

   We read a few more accounts together.  "This is hot stuff!" she said in
a husky tone.  I turned to face her; her face was all flushed, and her
breathing was rasping.  She grabbed my head and pulled me in for a hard
kiss.  My goodness, she must have found them even more exciting than I did!
I wrapped my arms around her waist and torso, and we pressed hard up
against each other.  She was humming and purring, and I felt like humming
myself.

   The kiss must have lasted at least a minute before we finally broke
apart.

   "Oh, my!" she exclaimed.  "I think we should stop reading now.  We might
get really out of control -- not only that, we might lose track of time. 
You have Taekwondo, and Ruth has to get to ballet class.  I take it Ruth's
here with you?"

   "Yep.  Daisy, too."

   "Maybe we can read more of this book some other time," said Carol. 
"When we have more time -- lots more time.  Perhaps in one of the study
rooms.  The walls are soundproof, so we don't have to worry about keeping
quiet." She giggled.  "I don't think we should try to check this book out,
or buy it at a bookstore."

   "Oh heavens, no!" I exclaimed.  "I wouldn't want anyone to know I read
this."

   "We're too young, too.  They might tell our parents, or otherwise get us
in trouble.  Hmm...  Maybe Nancy could buy a copy, or perhaps Mom," said
Carol.

   "Yikes!  You'd actually tell your mom about this?"

   Carol laughed, shook her head in an ambiguous way, lit up the library
with her smile, and didn't answer the question.  "Let's go get your sister
and get off to the mall." She turned and started off.

   I slipped the book back into the shelf, and followed her.  I let her
lead the way, content to follow from behind and look her perfect stout body
up and down.  She was almost made for jeans and tee-shirt.  I remembered
the one-piece thong swimsuit she wore on July 4th.  She'd certainly looked
hot but I kept wondering how she could stand that strip of material
creeping down into her bottom.  Walking behind her, I found her hotter,
more attractive, in jeans and tee-shirt.

   As expected, we found Ruth and Daisy in the children's section.  They
were reading a book together.  Ruth greeted us, then stood up and said,
"We'd better get going, Daisy."

   We went to the checkout desk and everyone but me checked out books, and
we departed.  Carol and Daisy took my hands, and Ruth took Daisy's.

   "Peter, why didn't you check any books out?" asked Daisy out of the
blue.

   "Well, the book I was reading, um, isn't one that wanted to be checked
out." I felt really at a loss for words there.

   "How can a book not want to be checked out?" asked Daisy.

   "It's not a book they would let him check out," said Carol.

   "Oh," said Daisy.

   I was thinking of saying something about not wanting them to know I was
reading that book.  But Carol pulled down on my hand, and I got the message
from her glance at me to leave well enough alone.

   "Um, why did you call Luke Peter?" asked Ruth.

   "Oh-my-God, I can't believe I did that!  It's stupid, really.  I have I
guess this imaginary friend, a man, the ideal babysitter.  I often imagine
I'm with him, sitting next to him or on his lap, holding hands, playing
games -- hide-n-seek, Sorry, Monopoly, Life.  I imagine climbing on him,
hugging him, kissing him, riding him like a horsey, sitting on his lap.  I
imagine his face floating in front.  He's, like, the perfect babysitter."

   I let out my breath after holding it, and took another deep breath. 
Gees, I'm a guy, and yet that seemed so romantic.

   I didn't notice she was leaning against me while talking, until she
suddenly jumped away, and laughed in obvious embarrassment.  After she
calmed down, she said, "I don't know where that came from; I never needed a
babysitter.  You and your family were my babysitters when Mom and Dad had
to go out, Ruth.  I imagine him as looking like you, Luke." She again
leaned against me, deliberately this time.

   "Um," I was blushing and uncertain about my words.  "I don't know how
good a babysitter I'd make."

   "Luke, you're a wonderful big brother," said Ruth, to further my
embarrassment.  "You'd make a wonderful babysitter.

   "Hey, Ruth," I said.  "Should we tell them about the catfight Ma and
Mrs. Winstead almost had last night?"

   "A catfight?" asked Daisy.  "Your Ma isn't a cat!"

   Carol explained, "Guys like to call it a catfight when they see two
girls fighting.  They think it's hot and sexy.  The boys imagine the girls
having long fingernails like the claws of cats or tigers."

   I continued, "It's also a catfight if girls are shouting at each other,
like calling each other bitch or Bi-Otch or something."

   Daisy said, "Oooo, that's a bad word!"

   "Mrs.  Winstead actually called Ma that," said Ruth.

   "I thought she said witch," I said.  "Anyways, Carol, catfights aren't
sexy if Ma's one of the fighters," I said.

   "Luke," countered Carol, "Catfights aren't sexy, period."

   We arrived at Ruth's ballet studio before I could talk any further. 
Daisy hesitated a long time, before deciding to stay and watch Ruth.  Carol
joined me, and we went hand-in-hand to my TKD class.

   On the way, Carol said, "You remember about Bikini Beach changes,
right?"

   "How could I forget July 4th?  My own clarinet teacher, Brandon Oregon,
being a hot bikini-clad young lady.  I suppose it's different with girls,
but the very idea of a teacher...  well," I fumbled my words.  "Thinking of
one as sexy, having a crush on a teacher...  or any authority figure... 
It's repulsive.  Embarrassing."

   "But you did find out that Bikini Beach changes men and boys to girls
and women there, right?" she asked.

   "Yeah, learning that two of you girls were actually...  um..."

   "GIRLs.  I like Jen's acronym.  But three of us."

   "I don't understand.  You're saying you're one as well?"

   "Not me," said Carol.  "Now that I think about it, though, I might be
one and not know it.  But think about it."

   By that time, we reached the TKD dojang.

   "Hi Luke," said one of the guys there.  "I see you brought your
girlfriend again."

   I blushed furiously, as Carol smiled at me, let go of my hand, brought
her hand around my shoulders, and pulled me against her.  I slowly put my
arm around her waist.

   As with every TKD session for the past couple of weeks, Carol stayed and
watched.

   Afterwards, as she took my hand and we returned to pick up Ruth, Carol
said, "Did you think about it?"

   "No, I was focused on the exercises and instruction." Actually, I did
for a moment during the break, and it occurred to me that she might have
meant that I was a girl then.  But I didn't want to mention it; I couldn't
handle it.  So instead, I returned to the catfight.  "Ma's catfight last
night involved Ruth and Bikini Beach.  Did I tell you what happened last
week?"

   "Well, Ruth had to spend the night at someone's house," Carol said.

   "Mrs.  Winstead's.  Last Tuesday, a week ago, Ma returned from her
Firmlove meeting furious at Mrs.  Winstead.  She repeated to Pa, not caring
that I was in the room, interesting stuff -- crazy, Ma thought.  I would
have thought so had I not known better.  Stuff about Ruth leaving clues
that she was seventeen-year-old Peter.

   "Ruth overheard it too, and took the possibility with surprising
equanimity.  We noticed that her original eight-year pass would have
expired when she was seventeen.  Anyway, last night, Firmlove came to our
house.  Ma tried to get Mrs.  Winstead expelled for the crazy things about
Bikini Beach and Ruth she said last week.

   "It was during break that Ma and Mrs.  Winstead got into the argument,
and she said a lot of stuff about Ruth and Peter -- Ruth's former self. 
Ruth's lifetime membership included a reality-shift making everyone forget
what Ruth did beforehand.  Everyone but Mrs.  Winstead.  Ma got caught in
it, and forgot everything as well."

   At this point, Carol said, "Poetic justice." I chuckled, and she
continued, "I take it that Ruth's original eight-year membership changed
her from seventeen-year-old Peter?"

   "Of course," I answered.  "That's when we first visited Bikini Beach. 
And now, we don't remember what Ruth did during those first two weeks
after."

   By that time, we reached the ballet studio.  A minute later, Ruth and
Daisy emerged among a group, chattering among themselves.  "Luke and his
girlfriend are waiting as usual for you," one said to Ruth.  I saw a brief
look of poison on Daisy's face, and she ran over and grabbed my other hand.

   Ruth took Daisy's free hand, and I heard her whisper in Daisy's ear,
"Carol's being very good to you.  Don't be so jealous."

   We started the mile or so home all four of us hand-in-hand.  It always
felt nice to have two pretty girls holding my hands, although hints of
jealousy between the girls weren't so nice.

   "Daisy," asked Carol, "what do you know about Bikini Beach?"

   "Just that it's a girls-only water park.  Mom and Dad don't want me to
have anything to do with it."

   "Did they say why?" I asked.

   "Just that it's evil.  I'm confused though," said Daisy.  "It's a
girls-only park, yet Luke goes there all the time."

   I didn't want to get anywhere near the topic of me changing into a girl
or something, so I quickly changed the subject.  "Tell us more about your
Peter, Daisy."

   This time, Daisy blushed in embarrassment.  I'd rather she be
embarrassed than me, thank you.  She didn't answer, so I asked, "Did Peter
have any brothers and sisters?"

   "This is all my imagination, of course.  But I always thought of him
having a kid brother.  He sometimes talks about him.  His brother's name is
-- oh my gosh, you're his kid brother Luke!  This is getting creepy!"

   "You called him the ideal babysitter.  Did he babysit you and Ruth at
the same time?"

   "He babysat only me, played games only with me.  Ruth was never around,
and I never thought of Ruth.  That's crazy, and I'm so sorry, Ruth.  You're
my best friend!" Teary-eyed, she turned and hugged Ruth.  "And I never had
a babysitter, either!"

   "Daisy, this is actually wonderful." Ruth turned and looked at her. 
"You may be remembering what Bikini Beach made us all forget."

   "Ruth, you're scaring me."

   "Bikini Beach changes people, and makes people forget.  When I first
went to Bikini Beach, it changed me from Peter, a seventeen-year-old boy
and Luke's older brother, to Ruth.  I only know about this because of what
Luke calls the catfight between Ma and Mrs.  Winstead.  Everyone forgot
except I guess Ma and myself and Mrs.  Winstead."

   "Mrs.  Winstead called it a reality-shift," I added.  "She also said
another reality-shift was done when Ruth got the lifetime membership. 
We've all forgotten pretty much anything Ruth did before then, it sounds
like."

   "Ruth's lifetime membership means that Ruth never gets back to being
Peter," said Carol.  "You know, Luke, that Bikini Beach changes last
through the expiration of the membership?"

   I knew what Carol was driving for, and I grimaced at the idea of being a
girl.  I also remembered that last Friday, it was the hardest thing ever to
go to clarinet lesson, remembering Mr.  Oregon as Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet
Babe at Bikini Beach on July 4th.

   "Luke?" repeated Carol.  When I didn't respond, she continued, "What do
you remember?  Do you remember yourself as a girl?"

   "Um," I finally responded, embarrassed again.  "I mostly don't remember
thinking about it.  But at times I remember being a boy there -- the only
boy among you girls, and the only boy in sight at Bikini Beach."

   "I remember that too," said Ruth.

   "As do I," said Carol.  "That means that Bikini Beach has shifted all
our memories, in addition to returning your boyhood.  Because, at least at
Bikini Beach, you were a girl." There it was, now flatly stated outright.
"A boy remains a girl until the night after his guest pass or membership
ends.  I remember you getting -- what?"

   "A two-week pass that expired ...  yesterday ...  last night?" I
answered, gulping.

   "That would mean that you were a girl for two weeks until last night,"
Carol said.  "And no matter what we remember, you were a girl at the
sleepover last week.  It was six girls, not five girls and one boy."

   On Monday, Carol and I had agreed, "What happened Friday stays Friday."
I remembered Spin the Bottle, kissing all the girls, and almost losing my
virginity several times -- usually to Carol.  (It would have been
mortifying to lose it with my friend Bruce-turned-Becky.) How much of that
was false memory?

   "Do you remember using the girls' changing room with the rest of us?"
asked Carol.

   "No, I always used the men's room." Me use the women's room?  What did
Carol take me for?  "I was always alone." I hesitated.  "Except when
Vanessa joined me that time we both got the passes.  She must have been
Vernon then."

   I was just totally confused now.  Carol must have seen it.  "Don't worry
about it.  Bikini Beach transformations are not meant to be understood by
mere mortals."

   When we got home, Ma was ironing some clothes.  "Hello, everyone. 
Welcome, Carol, great to see you again."

   "Hello, Mrs.  Cuttington.  It's great to visit."

   As usual, Ruth took her shower first.  Daisy went upstairs with her. 
Even though the walk home dried me off, I felt still too grimy or dirty
from Taekwondo to sit on any of the seats in the living room, so I sat on
the floor, and Carol joined me.  We chatted about inconsequential things,
as Ma was around and could potentially hear us.

   "The bathroom's free!" shouted Ruth from upstairs.

   "I'd invite you," I mouthed as I stood up, "but," and I gestured with my
eyes and thumb toward Ma in the kitchen.  Carol laughed and smiled, and my
heart fluttered.  Did the room seem brighter somehow?

   I headed upstairs to my room, removed my TKD uniform and dumped it in
the hamper, then grabbed a bathrobe and crossed over to the bathroom for my
shower.  It felt good to get cleaned off, although not as good as the
showers at Bikini Beach.  Come to think of it, was it the showers that
contained the ingredient that changed the boy to a girl, and changed
everyone else's memories and records and physical objects?  That must be
some potent water there.

   My shower finished, I dried off and returned to my bedroom to dress in
knee-length shorts and a tee-shirt.  I returned downstairs to see Ma and
Carol sitting next to each other on the sofa, with a fat book of old
photographs of Ruth and me at younger ages.

   "Hey, Luke!" said Carol.  "I like these old pictures of you!"

   "These were before Ruth was born, of course," said Ma, indicating a
series of pictures of me as a toddler with a faceful of spaghetti.

   "Ma!" I exclaimed.

   Ma continued to show photographs of me in various situations,
compromising and otherwise.  At least a few were of me naked.

   A while later, Ma announced, "I have to go shopping.  Can you think of
anything we need?" I couldn't think of anything, and Ma went up to Ruth's
room to ask Ruth.  She came back down a moment later.  "See you later; I'll
return in an hour or so."

   I sat down on the sofa next to Carol.  "I take it you liked those
mortifying pictures of me."

   "You were cute as a youngster.  Anyway, that's just par for the course.
Mothers always like to show potential daughters-in-law embarrassing
pictures of their sons as little boys."

   Potential daughters-in-law, eh?  I turned toward Carol, looked her up
and down, liking what I saw -- jeans, tee-shirt, everything.  "You know," I
said, "I think I've seen you in bikinis too often." She was one of the
girls who always wore bikinis at Bikini Beach -- except for July 4th, when
she wore the one-piece thong.  "The time I remember going all bugeyed over
you--"

   "--I wore a new pair of jeans, and a nice top." She smiled her
heart-stopping smile.  "You were ogling me today as well, in my worn jeans
and plain tee-shirt.  You know, Bikini Beach is supposed to be for girls
and women to enjoy swimming and such, out of the presence of boys ogling
them in their swimwear."

   "Becky, of course--" I began.

   "--shreds that argument," she finished.  "Anyway, it's really quite
flattering to be ogled even in my most plain clothes." She smiled again.

   "You have a wonderful smile.  I never told you this," I said.

   "Why thank you!" she smiled again.

   "It lights up everything, and nothing around you is plain in any way
when you smile."

   "Flattery will get you everywhere," said Carol with a light laugh
sounding almost as good as her smile.

   Feeling rather daring, I carefully put my arms around her -- and she put
her arms around me, and we pulled each other together.  I'd suddenly gotten
hard down there.  We were about to kiss when I noticed Ruth coming down the
stairs with Daisy.  We suddenly pulled apart.

   "Don't mind us," said Ruth.  "Just pretend we're not here." She lay down
on the rug with her book.  Daisy, meanwhile, climbed on my lap, pulled my
arm around her waist, got herself comfortable, and opened her book.  "Um,
on the other hand, maybe you should mind us," Ruth corrected herself.

   A couple minutes later, Ruth got up and asked, "Hey, Carol, may I sit on
your lap?"

   "Fine with me," she said.  "Heck, if Luke can sit on my lap, then Ruth
can too." Ruth climbed up and made herself comfortable.

   Carol was referring to the Saturday after July 4th, when we squeezed
into Aunt Yuko's microscopic car.  We had to squeeze in seven in a car
built for four, and for some reason, Alice refused to sit on either of our
laps, preferring instead to be squashed between me on Carol's lap and Jen
on Vanessa's lap.

   It was perhaps the only argument we ever had, but Carol and I argued
about who should sit on whose lap.  We were both the same height and about
the same weight, and Carol wanted me on her lap, while I wanted her on my
lap.  Becky finally suggested Rock, Scissors, Paper to decide, and Carol
won.  So I wound up sitting on her lap, squashing her down.  She'd had her
arms around me, pulling me hard against her.

   Now both of us sat with one arm around the girl on our lap, holding
hands with the other.  The girls got to reading their books.  Daisy's book
was "Squire" by Tamora Pierce.  Ruth was reading, "First Test."

   I found myself dozing off, leaning against Carol, and didn't catch when
the youngsters dropped their books and dozed off as well.

   I heard the garage door open, and in a momentary panic forced myself
awake.  The girls were still dozing.  "Girls?  Ma's home.  I don't think we
want Ma to catch us like this.  Let's get up now."

   Ruth jumped off.  Daisy slithered off my lap, saying, "I don't think
your Ma would mind too much."

   "Nah," agreed Carol.  "Your Ma would find it cute -- more than just
cute, moh-eh, cuddly.  She'd want a camera to immortalize the scene for
everyone to see." Nevertheless, she slid away from me even as I slid away
from her.

   I jumped up as Ma entered with a full bag and asked, "Hi Ma.  Need help
with the groceries?"

   "Why thank you, Luke.  Yes, that would be wonderful."

   So I went out and grabbed two bags from the trunk, and carried them into
the kitchen.  Carol was just behind and took a bag as well.  "Just set them
on the table," Ma said.  "Thank you." There were several other bags, but
with three of us working together, we got everything in quickly.

   The four of us spent the rest of the afternoon playing outside together,
joined by other children Ruth's age.

   Pa came home, and both Carol and Daisy stayed for supper.  Daisy was all
dressed up again -- was she going to come to church again with us?

   After dinner, I had to shower and change for Wednesday evening church. I
decided to wear that new suit I'd bought last Friday.  I'd worn it Sunday,
and it fit wonderfully.  Ma, Pa, and Ruth had all cheered me in it, Ma even
saying I looked like Pa when she first saw him.

   Ma also said at the time, that we should have gotten a new suit long
ago, that shopping with the girls Friday should have been a day for
splurging on fun stuff -- not for getting a new essential item.  Of course,
I never mentioned the "boy's dress" they'd urged on me (and bought for me)
now hidden in the back of my closet.  I'd actually worn it the rest of the
day -- and a couple girls and a gay guy had hit on me: "Nice dress, dude!"
and suggested going off for a little fun.  Fortunately, Carol had rescued
me, saying in no uncertain terms that I was with her.

   That had engendered a comment, "So you're the one wearing the pants of
the pair."

   I never imagined I'd actually like wearing a suit.  I'd had too much
experience with that old uncomfortable, tight suit.  I tried to comb my
hair, but it didn't work out very well, as usual, and Pa had to comb it for
me.

   "Wawawow, Luke!" said a stunned Daisy, hugging me -- very embarrassing
in front of Ma and Pa.

   "Yes, my big brother looks most handsome," said Ruth.

   "Luke, oh my!  You look even better than you did last Friday!" exclaimed
Carol, throwing her arms around me and kissing my cheek.  If Daisy's hug
was embarrassing, this was most mortifying in front of Ma and Pa.  I froze
with my face burning, and the spot on my cheek really standing out.

   Like last week, we left early enough to drop Carol off at her house,
before going to church.  Again, Daisy insisted on sitting on my lap.  After
we dropped Carol off, Pa commented to me in the back seat, "You're far too
young for us to think about things like this, but Carol would be a great
addition to the family."

   Daisy made an instantaneous noise behind her closed mouth, through her
nose, and turned and pressed hard against me.  I could see the silent grief
in her face, and my arms instinctively went around her.  I don't think
anyone noticed, except possibly Ruth.  I certainly hope Ma and Pa didn't.

   The service was boring as usual, except for the hymns.  At least the
readings from the Bible and "Science and Health" were short, before the
Lord's Prayer and the middle hymn.

   The most boring part was the testimony section following the second hymn
- in particular, the periods of silence between testimonials.  Tonight, the
boredom was relieved a little bit by Daisy sitting next to me and leaning
against me or clinging to my arm.  I wondered if Ma or Pa noticed, sitting
on the other side of me.  Some of the testimonies sounded actually
interesting.

   A woman stood up and told of her daughter, "Alice, about nine at the
time.  She was deluded into thinking that she was a boy named John.  We
tried discipline.  We tried psychology and psychiatry.  Nothing worked; she
kept complaining that she was a boy.  Finally, just out of curiosity, I
entered a Christian Science Reading Room, and discovered Mrs.  Eddy's
`Science and Health.' I learned from `Science and Health' that the healthy
situation of children was dependent on the mental state of the parents.  We
had to correct our own belief that our daughter was subject to delusions,
and to realize that there is but one Mind.  God is Mind, and cannot be
deluded.

   "I realized that I did not, could not have a daughter who was deluded in
any shape or form.  Once my husband and I realized this, the claim of a
deluded daughter thinking she was a boy completely vanished.  I am so
grateful for Mrs.  Eddy and Christian Science."

   Hmmmm, I wondered, as the First Reader nodded with a smile and the lady
resumed her seat.  Was this a Bikini Beach transformation or something?

   I knew that some time, one of these years, I would be expected to stand
up and give a testimony in front of all these people.  The very idea was
terrifying.

   Maybe if Christian Science undid what Bikini Beach, Ma, and Mrs. 
Winstead had done to Ruth -- restore Ruth to Peter, or at the very least,
restore Peter's memories to Ruth and memories of him to the rest of us, I'd
have my testimonial.

   Eventually, the First Reader ended the boredom and announced the final
hymn.  The service promptly ended upon the end of the hymn -- some people
literally turned and exited the pews and walked out as soon as the hymn
ended.  Others of us stayed to listen to the following incidental organ
music.

   Daisy sat on my lap again, on the way home.  She fell asleep.  Ruth fell
asleep as well, although she woke up at pretty much every turn of the car,
and again when we finally got home.  I had to carry Daisy inside and up to
Ruth's room, and Ruth insisted that I help her get the still halfasleep
Daisy out of her church dress and into a nightgown.  (It occurred to me
just before I fell asleep in my own bed that it would have been more
appropriate to ask Ma to do it instead.) 

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