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From: Daphne Xu <daphneXU@PSEUDOnym.mixTUREminIATURE.netMUNIST>
Subject: {ASSM} "A Bikini Beach Summer" (17/21) {Daphne Xu}   (tg,magic,mc,off-screen sex,teens,young)
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Date: Tue, 09 Sep 2014 03:10:02 -0400
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    A Bikini Beach Summer
    by Daphne Xu

    Part 17

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

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

     Sunday, July 20 (cont.)
     The Conference

Grandmother emerged from a side door as we followed Anya to a
conference room.  She glanced at Ruth--

--and jerked to a stop, almost stumbling forward.  "By all the
powers, we've royally fucked up!"

I gasped in surprise at the language.  Ruth gasped.  Anya spun
around and gasped.  Ma and Pa both gasped.  Mrs. Winstead gasped.
 It sounded as if everyone within hearing range gasped.  Mr.
Matsumoto remained silent with a distinct, satisfied, smug grin.

Still shocked at Grandmother's language, we silently followed
Anya into the conference room.  Grandmother was the last to
enter, and she said, "Please, have a seat."  We all sat on two
sides of a medium-sized table.  Ruth sat next to me, with Ma on
her other side.

"Oh, I remember now," said Ma.  "Somewhat, at least.  I'm so very
sorry, Mrs. Winstead -- for everything.  I'd just completely
forgotten."

Ruth replied, "Luke called it poetic justice, Ma -- being caught
up yourself in Bikini Beach's reality-shift of me."

Pa spoke next, mumbling, "This is really embarrassing."

I looked over at him, and caught him turning his face down away
from me. "I take it you remember that `very pretty young teenage
girl' so much more now, eh Pa?"

"You're really never going to let me forget that phrase, are you,
Luke." Pa, my Pa, was blushing as fiercely as I ever did.

"No, Pa, I'm not," I agreed with a smile.

"Heck, even in a plain ordinary swimsuit, you outdid every
swimsuit- clad beauty contestant I'd ever seen."

"You do look very pretty as a girl, Luke," added Mr. Matsumoto. 
"Back in Japan, men viewed your type as just short of alien."

Talk about embarrassing!  And when did he ever actually see me as
Lucy, anyway?

"We have serious issues to discuss," Grandmother said, "if
everyone's now accustomed to the memories of Luke and Lucy--"

"Just a moment here, Ma'am," said Pa.  "If these memories are
correct, I've been remembering an unpleasant confrontation with
Luke a few days ago which never happened; he was Lucy at the
time."  Pa sounded angry.

"Yes," I agreed.  "That standoff with me in a girl's swimsuit was
fabricated out of whole cloth, as soon as I became Luke again
that night. Why did Bikini Beach do that to us?  With everything
else that happened, one might think that, um," I hesitated, not
wanting to outright accuse anyone.  "Bikini Beach had it in for
our entire family."  I stammered on that last sentence; it was
hard to force out.

"To be fair, Luke," said Mr. Matsumoto, "If Bikini Beach really
had it in for you, you wouldn't stand a chance.  I think it was
merely an unintended consequence.  I don't know what happened, of
course."

"I can't explain fully what happened," Anya said.  "But I
detected your fear of going home in a bikini, and set the spell
to have you keep the swimsuit when reverting -- and have you
bring it with you to Bikini Beach on your later visits."

Oh oh!  Did Anya just tell us in front of Pa that I'd worn a
bikini here? I only vaguely heard the rest of Anya's explanation
-- and didn't follow it -- worrying about Pa knowing about me and
bikinis.  Being out in public in a bikini was mortifying enough.
Pa and Ma knowing about it was all the worse -- and Ma knew all
along!

I only got back into the conversation when Grandmother spoke.  "I
agree.  I apologize to both of you, Luke and Mr. Cuttington." 
Grandmother paused and then continued.  "I think we must continue
on with Ruth and Peter; those memories are considerably darker
and more depressing."

Ruth began screaming in terror, or even pain.  I turned to her,
and she clambered across the chair arms onto my lap and wrapped
her arms around me, and continued crying and screaming into my
chest, while I patted her back.

"What have you done with Ruth?!" exclaimed Ma, as she got up and
tried to take Ruth in her arms.

Ruth clung to me all the harder, as Grandmother answered, "Ruth's
nine-year-old girl mind remembers anew the horrifying
interrogation experienced by seventeen-year-old Peter in jail." 
She tapped Ma on the shoulder.  "Mrs. Cuttington, there's a
reason Ruth is clinging to Luke for comfort, and not you.  Let
her be."

"Ma," I said, "You didn't give a damn about her horrifying
experiences before."  I tried to hold back my tears.  I wasn't
concerned about punishment or retaliation for cursing this time.
In fact, I was itching for a fight; any attempt to punish me
would result in a real version of the confrontation Bikini Beach
had fabricated Thursday night.

Ma collapsed back into her chair, looking as if she'd just been
slugged.  I felt bad for Ma, even as I held Ruth hard, shielding
Ruth from her.

"Oh, how I wish we'd never wiped her memories.  At least when she
became Ruth originally, she was accustomed to those memories." 
And Grandmother herself burst into tears.

"Grandmother!" exclaimed Anya, helping her down into the nearest
seat.

Ruth calmed down suddenly, but still kept her face buried in my
chest.  "I dulled the memories of the police interrogation, and
pushed them into the background," Anya continued.  "She will be
able to continue her daily life without being haunted by those
memories, and when she does think about them, it will be as
through a mist, from a distance."

"I remember Peter now." said Mr. Matsumoto.  "Peter was my
daughter's favorite babysitter -- almost her only babysitter; she
always requested him whenever we went out.  Of course, once he
was charged with rape and murder, we couldn't have him
babysitting our daughter."

"That would have violated my bail terms, anyway," Ruth
interrupted, speaking weakly.  "And with the enraged mood I was
in, I would have had no business babysitting Daisy even after I
was fully cleared and freed."  Her voice gradually strengthened.

"But we trusted him enough to recommend a top criminal defense
lawyer to defend him," continued Mr. Matsumoto.  The first things
the lawyer did were to move for Peter's release on bail, and
simultaneously move for DNA testing, indicating his confidence in
Peter's innocence.  Sure enough, the DNA was a complete mismatch
with the murderer's.  The lawyer moved for dismissal of the
charges based on the DNA results.  While the prosecutor insisted
on redoing the DNA testing, at least he put it at top priority,
and when he got the same results, he concurred in the motion.

"Both the defense lawyer and I were crafting a motion for a
special prosecutor to investigate Peter's interrogation, and
preparing litigation against the police department for their
conduct, when Mrs. Cuttington took Peter and Luke to Bikini
Beach."

Mrs. Winstead said, "Everyone, I most sincerely hope that we
haven't forgotten the Denison girl who was raped and murdered."

Ruth came alive, spinning around on my lap, glaring at Mrs.
Winstead. "Grandmother?  Anya?  Someone?  Please knock some sense
into that woman's thick skull.  Without mind control, if
possible, please."  She pressed back against me, and held my arms
firmly around her waist.

"Ma'am," said Grandmother, recovering her composure, her tone
turning from sadness to anger.  "You have been provided with
information sufficient to establish that Peter never killed or
raped Jill Denison.  If you can't be persuaded, and you don't
limit your participation to constructive discussion, well..." 
Grandmother trailed off.

"You don't want to provoke a powerful magic user, Mrs. Winstead,"
said Ruth.

I added, "I've heard quite a bit from my friends here about
Grandmother, although I never met her until now.  She apparently
founded Bikini Beach herself, with all its magical properties."

"Mrs. Winstead," said Mr. Matsumoto, "if what we said earlier
didn't get through, perhaps this might: the night before Erin
took Peter and Luke to Bikini Beach, the arrest of the actual
killer was announced, based on DNA matching."

"I saw the news report on TV," said Pa.  "I told Erin, and she
said, `Thanks for the information.'  It didn't sound quite
welcome, or that she made anything of it."

"It wouldn't have made any difference to Ma, always thinking the
worst of me even after I was cleared of the murder."

"Ruth!" said Ma.  "How can you say such a thing about your own
Ma!?"

"Thinking that I was still Jill Denison's murderer -- after being
exonerated by the prosecutor and the judge, and incredibly, after
being told that the murderer was arrested," answered Ruth.  "Need
I go further? Once Ma gets stuck on an idea, she won't change her
mind, regardless of the evidence.  Okay, maybe you didn't know
anything about DNA.  Maybe we can blame the insidious influence
of your Firmlove group."

"Firmlove is hardly insidious," replied Ma indignantly, having
apparently recovered her composure.  "We've turned around
numerous bad cases, by refusing to enable their misbehavior and
make excuses for them.  A teenage drug dealer who is jailed for a
while has more inclination to reform than one who is immediately
bailed out, and gotten off by a smart defense attorney.  A
teenage girl caught up in Wicca, witchcraft, or paganism must be
firmly addressed before she ruins her life."

Mrs. Winstead nodded.

That didn't sound quite right.  Wasn't it witchcraft at Bikini
Beach that changed us, and made us forget?  Weren't we among
witches even now - - or the equivalent at least?

"One could just as well say that about being caught up in
Christian Science," replied Ruth.

"Oh, come on," said Ma.  "You know that's completely different."
I noticed Mrs. Winstead looking at Ma out the corner of her eye;
she might not have agreed with Ma.

"Or being caught up in modern high-energy physics," continued
Ruth. "Especially as some of your Firmlovers confuse modern
physics with paganism."  Mrs. Winstead's glance shifted to Ruth.
"For that matter, one could say that about NOT being caught up in
one's own particular cult. After all, if one took seriously the
notion of eternally burning in the Fires of Hell, one would want
to Save whoever one could.

"Anyways," she said.  "That derailed what I was going to say.  I
really hope that anyone who knew about the arrest and also knew
about Ma taking me to Bikini Beach to be changed would rush in to
stop the process."  Ruth looked pointedly at Mrs. Winstead.

"Young lady, you aren't insinuating anything, I hope," Mrs.
Winstead said.

"I thought someone would sarcastically ask what that arrest had
to do with my guilt in the murder, Mrs. Winstead.  I already made
the insinuation about Ma.  You are the only other person to know
that Ma was taking me to Bikini Beach to change me into
nine-year-old Ruth.  I hope you were simply unaware of the arrest
of Jill's murderer.  But you already seem to have failed the
test: if my arrest meant that I was the murderer, they wouldn't
have arrested anyone else."

"Isn't that obvious?" I added.

"I just don't know what you're talking about," said Mrs.
Winstead.

"Everyone, my request for someone to knock sense into her thick
skull still stands," said Ruth.

"Erin," said Mr. Matsumoto, "That Dan informed you of the arrest,
and you still continued with Peter's punishment is manifest gross
negligence -- criminal negligence even -- resulting in liability
if we ever get to litigation in Peter's transformation to Ruth. 
But I sincerely believe," he looked around at everyone, including
Grandmother, "that litigation won't be necessary.  I trust this
conference will lead to mitigating or undoing the damage."

"Mr. Matsumoto," said Ruth.  "I didn't know about the arrest due
to the DNA testing.  When I became Ruth, the reality-shift
probably wiped out the DNA testing and the resulting arrest --
the crime was literally unsolved. Later, as Ruth, I tried to get
you -- as the only lawyer I knew -- to get DNA testing on the
current suspect, who's still in jail.  What happened?"

"I did contact the defense attorney and the prosecution both.  I
didn't have any sway over the prosecutor, but I did manage to
persuade the defense attorney to move for DNA testing.  I had no
news since then, and of course with Ruth's membership upgrade, I
forgot.  I assume that my request and any motions made as a
result thereof, any testing commenced in consequence of my
request, were wiped out as well.  Would that be correct,
Grandmother?" He looked pointedly at her.

"Unfortunately, you and Ruth are most likely correct, both ways,"
said Grandmother.  "But at least I can do something there.  I
have contacts in the police department who know about Bikini
Beach and its transformations." She grabbed a telephone and
dialed.

She spoke several times, apparently attempting to reach her
contact. Shortly, Grandmother turned on speakers, letting us all
hear the conversation.

"Chief, I'm calling about the Jill Denison murder case."

"Ma'am, we've wrapped up the case, and it's out of our hands now.
 We've transferred it for prosecution."

"Did you compare the DNA of the suspect and the crime scene?" 
asked Grandmother.

"No, we found that unnecessary.  We have a detailed, signed
confession to the murder, from the defendant."

Ruth came alive again.  "That confession was false!  They made
him confess!"

Grandmother said, "The speaker is a Bikini Beach member.  Before
her change and resulting reality-shift, he was the murder
suspect.  He was innocent, and his confession was procured
through police misconduct."

Ruth said, "They terrorized me, threatened me, kept me
perpetually awake, kept pushing me to confess, lying about
evidence against me, so much else."

The voice on the phone said, "That young lady -- she sounds like
a child, by the way.  She needs a lesson in logic.  Just because
she or he may have been forced to confess falsely doesn't mean
our defendant was."

Ruth said, "Bikini Beach may have wiped me as Peter out of
existence.  It didn't wipe out those cops I faced.  It didn't
wipe out their decision to find a suspect to take into their back
rooms, to work him over and make him confess.  If they'd do that
to an upper-middle-class white teenager, imagine what they'd do
to a young black man."

Grandmother said, "You really must do the DNA testing.  If your
defendant turns out to be innocent despite his confession, I will
be highly upset. Make sure I'm upset with someone else."

"I see your point, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Chief."  Grandmother hung up, and turned back to us.
"I could visit the suspect this afternoon at the jail, and
determine his innocence or guilt.  In fact, I'll do just that. 
And if he is innocent, I can ensure that he is promptly released,
and act against the miscreants who extracted his confession -- or
Peter's confession."

"Grandmother?" I said, nervous about talking to and getting her
attention. "I am really concerned about the suspect.  I envision
him minding his own business, doing his own thing, Saturday
morning when Ma took Peter and me to Bikini Beach.  When Peter
becomes Ruth, the new suspect is suddenly in jail for Jill's
murder.  He suddenly remembers being in jail since the murder,
being questioned about the murder, undergoing the HELL of Peter's
interrogation, and confessing to the murder.  The world around
shifts to him being the suspect.  Would this be correct?"

Grandmother turned to me, and I could see behind her distressed
visage a hint of her reputed sternness and authority, but also of
grandmotherly kindness as well.  "Issues of time and timing are
involved, but for the most part, I am very sorry to say that that
is one way of seeing it, young Luke.  I don't wish to sound as if
I were making excuses, but Anya and I were on vacation.  We'd
left the park in the hands of a junior mage for a week.  I would
have caught the miscarriage of justice, and I'm sure Anya would
have too.  I know it's no excuse, and for the life of me, I
regret it all."

"I'm not as confident as Grandmother about my detecting the
miscarriage, since I didn't catch it the second time around, when
we upgraded her membership," Anya said sorrowfully.

"That happened the day after July 4th, right after we asked about
Ruth's case.  You mentioned Peter's `murderous thoughts.'  I
totally freaked out that night, because I thought Peter might
have been murderous.  You do realize now what those thoughts
were?"

"Oh Luke, I'm so sorry.  I do remember how sick and distressed
you got, Luke.  Unfortunately, our scanners didn't distinguish
Peter's rage against the police from actual dark, evil, murderous
intent.  Grandmother always admonished me to look deeper, to
probe deeper.  Had I done so, I wouldn't have allowed Ruth's
reality-shift and lifetime upgrade to go through, and I would
have caught the miscarriage of justice she was already under. 
It's been a travesty all over."

"Thank you, Anya," I said.  "Something should have clued in Ma
and Mrs. Winstead: in this reality where Peter supposedly never
existed, another man has been held in jail since Jill's murder,
in place of Peter but without Pa's ability to hire a good
lawyer."

"In this reality," added Mr. Matsumoto, "the suspect's face -- a
black eighteen-year-old young man -- a boy, really -- has been
repeatedly shown on television since almost the day of the
murder.  He was portrayed as the murderer, without any
questioning his guilt, and numerous columnists and talk-show
hosts cited this case as illustrating the need for an effective,
quick death penalty."

Mrs. Winstead opened her mouth, then shut it.

"I only hope that if DNA shows his innocence, he is able to bring
libel actions against those talk-show hosts, for major
defamation.  It's in his favor that he is not a public figure --
although an attorney with chutzpah might argue that he is one by
virtue of his face appearing all over television."

There was a tense moment of silence.  I had the sense that
everyone wanted to say something, but were hesitant about
speaking out.  Then Grandmother said, "I sense, Mr. Matsumoto,
that you have wanted to tell me off about my practice for many
years."  Mr. Matsumoto looked shamefaced.  "Peter/Ruth's case
makes your point quite well, so go ahead.  I'll try not to take
offense."

"Very well, Ma'am," he said to Grandmother.  "You already
realized that Bikini Beach's second reality shift wiped out our
attempt to have DNA testing for the suspect -- wiped out our
attempt to obtain evidence for the defense.  Clearly an
unintended consequence which, if intended, would be obstruction
of justice.  Your response has been satisfactorily prompt, and I
thank you for that.  I'm going to repeat the request to the
prosecuting and defense attorneys, but I expect that your request
will produce faster results -- at least if they know what's good
for them."  That produced laughter all around.  Mr. Matsumoto
continued, "You also realize that Bikini Beach's first reality
shift replaced Peter with another unfortunate suspect in the same
position -- and wiped out the murder's solution and the arrest of
the murderer.  You may also realize that Peter's life was
ruined."

"I wouldn't go that far," said Ruth.  "Although I might change my
mind, once I begin fourth grade.  I was planning to go to Pacific
Tech, but that could be postponed -- assuming that they didn't
accept a nine-year- old applicant.  I can't really tell how much
my mind has retained Peter's knowledge and skills."

"While Peter can't be restored, unfortunately," said Anya, "It is
possible to age you back to your original age, or some other age.
 Reality would be shifted to reflect the change, and your
acceptance at Pacific Tech would be restored for the new Ruth."

"It would be Ruth's choice, of course, but I oppose on principle
the mind-control that would entail," said Mr. Matsumoto.

"Me, too -- especially now that I've been a victim," said Ruth. 
"I had severe trouble telling my story.  And then I completely
forgot, when you got me the lifetime upgrade.  Mind control is
evil.  Except for softening my memories of the police
interrogation.  Thank you for that, Anya."  I felt her shudder on
my lap, even as she smiled at Anya.  "I'm not sure what I want to
do.  I don't mind being a nine-year-old girl any more.  I don't
want to give up my friends.  Daisy's the best friend one could
wish for. I've made friends with other girls at home -- and also
the girls at Bikini Beach.  Then there's Luke, the best big
brother in the world--"

"Oh, come on now!" I said, blushing, and Ruth pressed herself
hard back against me in my lap.

"-- something I would never have imagined as Peter.  I only had a
couple friends as Peter.  Both Luke and I were mostly loners
before this summer. Also, I'm not really in any hurry to go to
Pacific Tech; it could be postponed several years.  One thing I
really don't wish to do is repeat elementary school and middle
school, although I could do it."

"We don't have to decide now," said Grandmother.  "You have
plenty of time to think about it.  There are colleges and
universities with early entrance programs, where they accept
children, usually middle-school age but sometimes as young as
nine, into college.  Maybe you could try for one of those."

"I'm also thinking of perhaps redoing high school, but with a
different focus.  I could place out of some of the required
classes, or perhaps redo them better than before, and take
different electives.  I could focus on theater, art, and music,
for example.  I'm definitely going to continue ballet. 
Taekwondo, too."

"We can figure that out as we go along," said Mr. Matsumoto. 
"The only issue of urgency is what to do about Ruth and fourth
grade.  Of course, I expect you to take care of necessary
expenses involved," he said to Grandmother.

"Just one minute there," said Ma.  "No daughter of mine will
engage in such an unladylike activity as Taekwondo."

"Pardon me, Ma.  I'm your older son.  I became your little
daughter through no fault of my own.  And because of your abuse
of your authority, your treatment of me, you have forfeited any
moral right to a mother's authority over me.  Once I was accused
of the rape and murder, you thought the worst of me, and acted
accordingly -- persistently, in the face of contrary proof."

Ma looked like she wanted to say something.  Her mouth moved, but
nothing came out.  Finally she collapsed back into her seat,
looking about to cry.

"Seriously, Ma, you really don't want a defenseless daughter
growing up. Ballet and martial arts are a lethal combination, as
Pa found out the hard way."

"I'd completely forgotten that," said Pa.  "I now understand more
why you did that, and why you said what you said.  It makes sense
with you having been Peter."

The conversation drifted.  At one point, it got back to Peter,
the jailed suspect, and the rogue police officers.  Mr. Matsumoto
admitted, "I'm double-minded -- very uncertain -- about it all. 
I'm perfectly fine with you visiting the suspect and determining
his innocence.  And if he IS innocent, we want him released as
soon as possible.  `Justice delayed is justice denied,' jail is
unpleasant, and he's languished there far too long.  But I can't
really see you accomplishing his release fast without mind
control or similar.  DNA testing should clench the decision,
making it clear to everyone."

"Perhaps this might satisfy you," said Grandmother.  If I find
that the suspect is innocent, I may be able to have him released
on bail while the DNA testing progresses.  Even if he's
constrained by Peter's bail conditions, it's better for him.  It
would require only subtle pushing."

"I think that's a fine compromise.  I don't wish to go too far
with slippery-slope thinking," said Mr. Matsumoto.  "As for
acting against the rogue police officers, again I'm uncertain --
but only when the law refuses to act against rogue officers in
general.  Vigilantism is a sin, and there's a reason we don't
allow anyone to go around punishing people they think are
criminals.  Legally, even the law is barred from punishing them
without publicly proving their guilt first.

"I've wanted to tell you off for setting yourself up as judge,
jury, and executioner all at once.  I have to concede in Ruth's
case that Bikini Beach served only as executioner, with Mrs.
Cuttington and Mrs. Winstead serving as judge and jury, after the
real judge *AND* the prosecutor dismissed the case for contrary
evidence."

Ma closed her eyes, sat back in her chair, and looked about to
cry again. Mrs. Winstead opened her mouth, then shut it again.  I
couldn't help being sorry for Ma, even though I tried to harden
my heart.  I had no such qualms or feelings about Mrs. Winstead;
I was very happy to see her told off by a fellow adult.

"I realize that if you were involved," continued Mr. Matsumoto,
"You would have become judge as well as executioner, and done the
right thing and said no."

Grandmother bobbed her head.  "I appreciate that."

"Likewise, you realize that when Mrs. Cuttington brought her sons
here, someone in your position did the Wrong Thing.  But as I
said earlier," he continued, ignoring Anya and Grandmother's
guilty expressions, "I am uncertain about acting against the
rogue officers who extracted Peter's confession or the current
suspect's confession.  On the one hand, if the problem's only a
few bad apples, the law will easily deal with it.  On the other
hand, if the law won't deal with it, the problem's more than just
a few bad apples -- the entire force is rotten, and the rot
extends to the prosecutor's office.  The rot extends pretty much
to anyone in a position to do anything about it.

"This would leave vigilante justice as the only option.  However,
since the prosecutor agreed rather quickly to dismiss the charges
against Peter, I would think that if this suspect is exonerated,
he might be willing to go after at least those bad cops who
extracted the suspect's confession.  At least, let's give him a
chance, or a special prosecutor a chance."

Talking went on, and I fogged out, or perhaps promptly forgot
passages as soon as I heard them.  Until...

"Mind-control is just about the most insidious aspect of your
practice, Ma'am.  First, we mustn't confuse mind control with
human stupidity or the nasty tactics used to program human
stupidity.  Once Erin and Mrs. Winstead decides that Peter's
exoneration was merely a high-powered lawyer getting him off, it
becomes difficult if not impossible for the facts to get through.
 It explains their dismissal of DNA evidence.  It might even
explain their dismissal of the arrest of the real murderer;
stupidity knows no bounds.  But their conviction that Peter was a
rapist-murderer in the face of the arrest of the actual murderer
could as well be mind control: changing their minds would be
barred.

"Here's a particularly insidious example of the evil mind-control
could do: a girl could emerge from Bikini Beach's men's changing
room, and her friend who used the women's room would not see a
problem -- not even if someone pointed it out.  Her mind would be
barred from those thoughts."

"Well, inside Bikini Beach, the men's room is labeled the women's
overflow room," said Ruth.  "That might make a difference."

"Not really," said Mr. Matsumoto.  "One could remember that the
room was the men's changing room, even if labeled otherwise from
the inside - - unless mind-control blocked the memory."

I shuddered as the implications hit home.  "That happened with me
as Lucy," I said.  "I changed and showered in the men's changing
room every time except during that two-week pass.  I mostly
didn't even think of it.  Not until Jen got mad at me, and then I
remembered why -- falsely.  It was a false memory.  Before that,
when Vanessa, or Vernon, and I changed, Vanessa hinted pretty
blatantly why we were both in the men's room, and I was just
confused."

"Then there was how I could never tell my story," said Ruth. 
"Then after I'd forgotten everything, Mrs. Winstead was nice
enough -- unintentionally, of course -- to tell Lucy and me what
happened."

"What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Winstead, who for the
most part, had remained silent throughout.

"Mrs. Winstead, if you told someone who knew nothing about Bikini
Beach and its transformations, that I was formerly an older boy
named Peter, what do you think she'd say?"  Mrs. Winstead didn't
answer.  "First Ma came home in a huff and told Pa about it. 
Then next week, Ma told your entire Firmlove friends about it,
and you and Ma had a catfight."

"Ruth!" exclaimed Ma and Mrs. Winstead simultaneously, both
clearly embarrassed.  I couldn't help laughing, a bit embarrassed
myself.  I could see Mr. Matsumoto barely holding in his mirth.

He said, "There's always the concern about telling one's story;
it sounds so unbelievable to one not already familiar with Bikini
Beach.  Mind control might ratchet up that fear.  Or mind control
may make it not to occur to someone even, to tell his story.  For
those who want to tell their story, mind-control can easily
sabotage the attempt.  I've had a few young ladies come to my
office ostensibly to consult, only to come onto me rather hard,
sexually.  I've always managed to resist without difficulty,
thanks to my dear wife who's also my best friend.  Those young
ladies were mostly of legal age, but a few looked as young as
fifteen.  Knowing what Bikini Beach could do, my guess is that
they wanted to consult with me about something done to their
minds, and the very thing done to their minds mangled it.  Not
necessarily Bikini Beach itself -- it could have been someone
else's doing.

He glanced at Pa and Ma.  "Dan and Erin, I never told you about
our experience with Bikini Beach.  I might tell you sometime. 
Now I don't want to change anything to endanger Daisy."  He
visibly shuddered.  "I realize I've made myself vulnerable in
that respect, but then everyone with a family is vulnerable.

"I once read a novel, _Replay_, whose author I've forgotten,
where the protagonist repeatedly dies and finds himself back in
time, back as his earlier self.  In one case, he had an
eleven-year-old daughter at the time he went back.  He was most
distressed over it, and it was no consolation that his daughter
never existed in the first place in the following replays.  She
was alive and conscious at one moment, and at the next, she
didn't exist -- the very definition of being killed."

"Sir," said Grandmother, slowly.  "I admit that if you pushed me
or Anya too hard, I might have reminded or warned you about the
danger to your daughter.  But I would never kill a child that way
in my ordinary practice -- circumstances would have to be dire in
the extreme to resort to that."

I kept thinking and shivering about the mind-control and death
through reality-shift -- never having been born.  Thinking of
Daisy as a possibility made me almost cry.  I could tell Ruth on
my lap felt the same way.  I lost quite a bit of the following
conversation.

"... school starting in little over a month," Mr. Matsumoto was
saying. "Something has to be done if we don't want Ruth redoing
fourth grade. Other than that, we have time to decide what to
do."  It sounded as though things were wrapping up.  "Is there
anything else?"

The conference ended.  Grandmother stood up, and the rest of us
followed her example.  As we filed out, I said, "Good bye, Anya
and Grandmother. Have a good day."

"Have a great day yourself," replied Anya, while Grandmother said
a simple, "Good day."

It was a relief for the conference to end.  At least unlike most
conferences, where everything went completely over my head and I
was bored out of my mind, I was able to follow and participate a
good part of the time.  But its end was still a relief.

When  we got home, the first thing I did was change out of my
suit, into shorts and tee-shirt.  I vaguely noticed in the back
of my mind Ma rushing to her bedroom.

When I went back downstairs, I was astonished to hear Ma weeping
and even wailing in her bedroom.  I just couldn't take it; I
scrunched up my face to avoid crying myself.  "Luke," said Pa. 
"This turn of events has upset Ma extremely.  She took a number
of hard hits today."

I had no idea what to say, what to do.  I went into the dining
room.  We'd left a good part of Sunday Dinner on the table, so I
began packing the remains into leftover containers and taking the
dishes to the sink, scraping the dried food off, and putting the
dishes in the dishwasher.  Pa joined me, and we worked in
silence, cleaning everything up.

I was feeling guilty anew at what we'd done to Ma, after she'd
made us that huge feast.  Only the focus on our clean-up kept me
from breaking down right then and there.

Afterwards, I just collapsed in the living room on one of the
chairs, feeling oh-so-tired as well as sad and guilty.  Pa went
to his bedroom to be with Ma.

The doorbell rang, and I went to answer it.  It was Daisy.  "Hi
Luke.  How did the meeting go?"

"Oh, it had its good parts and its bad parts.  Grandmother
immediately caught their awful mistake with Ruth.  Ma remembers
everything now, and is finally persuaded that she did Peter
wrong.  In fact, for the most part, it went horrible for her."  I
had to blink away tears.

Ruth was just behind me.  "Yeah, it's unbelievable, isn't it?"  I
had no idea what she meant.

Ruth pulled me back into the living room, sat me down in one of
the armchairs, and clambered into my lap, leaning against me and
pulling my arms around her.  "There's nothing more cozy than
Luke's lap.  Especially when you've been distressed."

"Give me room, too, Ruth!" said Daisy.

"I think I might be able to accommodate both of you," I said, as
Daisy climbed up on my lap next to Ruth.  My arms went around
both of them.

We spent the rest of the day sitting that way, relaxing and
dozing off, occasionally talking.

Ma and Pa came out, and we had our usual light Sunday evening
snack.

Afterwards, I recalled that I had piano lessons tomorrow. 
Remembering Peter wasn't going to change that, so I practiced a
half-hour.

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