A Bikini Beach Summer

   by Daphne Xu

   Part 11

   The Following Days and the Firmlove Meeting

   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 13

   Both Thursday and Friday night, I'd had nightmares about monsters that
were Error going after me.  Was someone or something warning me?  Or was
someone or something actually after me?  Or were they just nightmares,
influenced by thoughts in the background of my mind?

   In any case, as I awoke Sunday morning, I kept feeling guilty about the
sleepover events of Friday night.  They were major-league Error.  I even
felt guilty about the dress-suit I got when we went shopping, even though I
kept telling myself I had nothing to feel guilty about.

   I decided to wear it that very day to Sunday School and Church.  I
waited until after breakfast before putting it on -- partly because I
didn't want to spill food on it, partly because I was nervous about putting
it on and letting Ma and Pa see me in it.  I didn't know why; the
dress-suit was about as modest as one could get short of a nun's habit. 
Perhaps it's because I bought it without asking or telling Ma, or perhaps
because I'd splurged on it almost the entire amount she'd given for
shopping.

   The girls had persuaded me to buy it, and pantyhose and two-inch heels
to go with it.  I was particularly nervous about the heels, since Ma had
never gotten heels for me before.  (I'd never asked.) I wasn't sure how to
fix my hair to match the suit; my usual ponytail didn't seem to fit.  I
just decided to let my hair fall and brush it out.

   Ruth was the first to see me in my new suit.  "Oh my, Lucy!  You look
... adult ...  like a young and friendly Ma!  It's wonderful!"

   Pa was the next to see me, when I went downstairs.  "Say, who could this
lovely young lady possibly be?  Is that you, Erin, time-traveling from the
past?"

   "Very funny, Pa," I replied.

   "What's going on?" asked Ma, as she entered from the kitchen.  "Oh my,
is that you, Lucy?  Let me look at you!" Ma fiddled a little with my
jacket. "You look great in that -- almost the businesswoman.  Good
workmanship, too.  Adjustable -- it should last you at least a couple
years."

   "Seeing my daughter like this truly drives home the point that you are
growing up," said Pa.

   "Aww, Pa.  I'll wear my other dresses sometimes.  I'll remain childlike
some of the time." One should remain childlike, according to Mrs.  Eddy. 
And Jesus said that one should become as a child, too.

   "I take it you bought it Friday, when you went shopping with the girls?"
asked Ma.

   "Yes.  They persuaded me to get it.  Vanessa, in particular.  I'm afraid
it took almost everything you gave me for shopping."

   "I quite approve.  It's surprisingly responsible for a teenage shopping
spree."

   The Lesson-Sermon's subject this week was "Sacrament." That meant a
slight change in the format of the service.  After the Readers read the
Lesson, we were "invited" to kneel on the floor.  I'd been feeling guilty
and begging for forgiveness throughout the service, and here I continued to
beg for forgiveness as part of my silent prayer -- even as I recalled
vaguely in the back of my mind that this was not the right kind of prayer.
We recited the Lord's Prayer.

   I think I felt a little better after the church service was over.

   "Lucy, over here." Ruth grabbed my hand and we went off a little ways
from where Ma was gossiping with other church ladies.  "You were unhappy
this morning.  Was it something at the sleepover?"

   "Well..." I blushed in embarrassment at the memories.  I didn't want
anyone to know about them.  Not even Ruth -- putting aside the
embarrassment, she was just too young.  I finally said, "I think Error
influenced me at the sleepover."

   Ruth giggled.  "Did you sneak boys into the sleepover?"

   "Um, the only boys there were the ones changed to girls -- Becky and
Vanessa."

   "Aww," she pouted.

   I wondered about that, but let it go.  "I had nightmares too.  Error as
a monster trying to pull me away from Ma and Pa, Error and monsters in the
mall after me, pushing me toward the Dangerous Store.  Heck, I can't
remember now if we actually encountered that Store Friday, or I dreamed it
all."

   "A Dangerous Store?" said Ruth.  "It was probably a nightmare.  Anyway,
error means mistake -- I looked it up.  But we're almost taught that it's a
monster whispering in our ear.  Like when we're grumpy, Ma says that's Old
Error."

   We talked some more, but then we had to stop because Ma's socialization
had ended, and we had to return home for Sunday dinner.

   After dinner, I joined Ruth and Daisy and a couple other girls and guys
her age playing outside.  The afternoon went by fast, and so did the
evening of a game of Life.  Pa joined us for the game.

   Monday, July 14th

   The next morning, we had to record a new week of the Lesson-Sermon.  The
subject was Life, one of the seven synonyms of God according to "Science
and Health."

   So after breakfast and the Mental Work, Ma recorded the "Science and
Health" readings, while I recorded the Bible readings.  Afterwards, I spent
part of the time helping with chores, and part of the time reading.  I also
practiced some piano and clarinet.  I tried not to think of Error haunting
me and taunting me during the sleepover.

   I did wind up thinking of Ma's rant about what Mrs.  Winstead said, last
Tuesday.  Did I really hear that?  Or did I dream it?  Or did Ma make it up
or hallucinate it?  Becky and Vanessa had been transformed by Bikini Beach.
Had Ruth as well?  Had my mind been completely wiped of memories of -- what
was the original name?  Peter?

   Ma wouldn't know -- any more.  She'd forgotten as well, if it happened.
But Mrs.  Winstead might know.

   I had piano lessons as well as ballet.  After piano finished, I suddenly
wondered if Carol would appear like before.  Sure enough, there she was at
the corner of a street a couple blocks from the mall.  Shouting out, "Hey,
Carol!" I ran to meet her, despite being loaded down, and she ran to meet
me.

   After jumping and hugging, we backed off to look at each other.  "It's
been a while, since Saturday," she said.  Then both of us blushed at the
same time.  My face was burning.

   "About Friday night," we both began, then stopped.  "You first," we both
said, then burst out in laughter.

   "Let's get moving," I said, taking her hand.  "I have ballet to attend."
After a short pause, I asked, unsure of my words, "Did we go too far
Friday?"

   "Well..." she said.

   "I felt really guilty yesterday at Church.  It felt like -- I feel silly
and embarrassed talking about church to people outside it.  The words we
use mean different things.  I'll just say it -- it felt like major-league
Error, an Error unprecedented for me.  That term Error, well it means
mistake or something wrong, but also something more.  Ma would say to us as
a child, `That's Old Error influencing you.' Something in our book mentions
Error being "exterminated." I got to thinking of Error sometimes as a
tempter, sometimes as a terrible monster.

   "In my nightmares Thursday and Friday night, Error was the monster
pulling me away from Ma and Pa (who were, of course, oblivious) or the
thing chasing me toward the Dangerous Store but also inside the store
waiting for me.  I think the Store in my nightmare was based on `Spell R
Us' that we saw Friday."

   "Oh my," said Carol.  "I'll admit I felt a little guilty and definitely
considerably embarrassed at what we did Friday night.  But nothing like
what you felt, I'm sure.  It was fun and exciting as well.  No doubt I'd be
punished if Mom or Dad found out, but nobody's going to tell them, right?"

   "Right.  I'm certainly not going to tell my parents.  Ma spoke about the
fun she had at `pajama parties' when she was young.  I don't think meant
the kind of activities we had Friday.  Although, come to think about it,
she never told us what they did."

   "How about this?" said Carol.  "What happened Friday night remains
Friday night."

   "Exactly."

   We continued walking.  I was lost in my thoughts.  Error in one of the
nightmares taunted me that I would be too scared to give the testimony I'd
vowed to give on Wednesday -- about wearing bikinis and one-pieces to
Bikini Beach.  I was having doubts about it -- and fears and embarrassment
-- and I realized that those doubts, and fears, and embarrassment were
Error.

   We arrived at the ballet studio just as Ma and Ruth arrived.  I changed
into my ballet leotard and tights, and the class went by as usual, except
this time, Carol watched us.

   Afterwards, she said, "Did I ever tell you?  You definitely look sexy,
both of you.  Ruth, you almost look like a younger version of Lucy.  It's a
wonderful privilege walking home with both of you." Carol took both our
hands.  "Let's go."

   We started off.

   "There's the way you treat me as a friend, almost like Lucy," said Ruth.

   "Well, you and Lucy are clearly friends as well as sisters.  And there's
something mature about you -- and also about your friend Daisy, I don't
know.  And then it's fun to have some childish fun once in a while. 
Actually, I view Lucy rather different." She took her hand out of mine, and
wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pulling me to her.  After a moment of
surprise and being off-balance, I managed to get my arm around her waist,
and leaned against her.  I couldn't help having a silly grin on my face.

   "Now that silly thing about being up a tree is running through my mind,"
said Ruth with a giggle.

   "Um, Ruth, in case you didn't notice, we can't have children," I said.

   We got home.  While I changed out of my leotard, the idea occurred to me
that my Bikini Beach pass was probably expiring.  I got it out and checked:
the expiration date was 5:00pm Tuesday, July 15th.  So it was still good
tomorrow.  That was actually nice of them, making it a 15-day pass instead
of a two-week pass.

   Daisy joined us, and the four of us spent the rest of the afternoon
playing outside.  Both Daisy and Carol stayed for dinner and we played some
more afterwards.  Then Carol had to go home.  Pa drove her home, and I went
along with them.

   On the way back home, Pa said, "You have a very good friend there, Lucy.
She's involved not only with you, but also with Ruth and her friend Daisy
-- pretty much the whole family."

   For a moment, icky thoughts tempted my mind, thoughts about Pa and
Carol. No-no-no, I managed to put them out of my mind.  That was just sick.
Error.

   Tuesday, July 15th

   As I followed the morning routine, it was perpetually on my mind that
today was the final day of my two-week Bikini Beach membership.  I was
regretting not making more use of the membership, such as going on other
days.  But then I realized that one can enjoy the rides only so much.  It
was being with the other girls that made Bikini Beach the special place it
was.

   I wondered if there were other activities we could do together besides
Bikini Beach.  There was the sleepover, and shopping.  Were there other
places such as theme parks to attend?  Places that wouldn't have the magic
that sometimes scared me?

   I got into my swimsuit and got my equipment well before the Kings
arrived to take us to Bikini Beach.  So I practiced on the piano -- feeling
a little strange doing so in a swimsuit, especially with flip-flops on the
pedals.  I tossed them off; my bare feet on the pedals felt a little more
normal.  The Lucky Charms on my toenails were faded.

   Ruth was in her swimsuit and ready by the time the Kings arrived. 
Vanessa and Helen were in the SUV as usual, and we made it to Bikini Beach
in good time.

   I posed the question to Vanessa while still in the car.  "I was
wondering, especially since today is the last day we can use our passes,
are there other places to go, other things all six of us can do to have
fun? For example, find park or a field and play ball games, Frisbee, on the
swings and climbing bars?"

   "Gee, I don't know.  It might be fun to go to other theme parks,
overnight trips to places like Sea World or Six Flags, or one of the Disney
parks.  We should talk to the guys about it." She laughed suddenly.  "It
would definitely be interesting being the lone boy among a group of girls
in that situation.  Except that probably the next time I visit Bikini
Beach, I'll have Mom get me another extended time membership, so I'll still
be Vanessa when it comes to that.  Actually, come to think of it." She cast
a sharp glance at me.  "I'm not sure I would be the only boy."

   I didn't really want to know what she meant by that.  Becky/Bruce had a
summer membership, so she wouldn't be there as a boy.  Did her pointed
glance at me indicate that she thought I might be a boy?  Or be one after
the pass expired?  Now that was ridiculous.

   As usual, we had a wonderful day at the water park.  I took the
gymnastics class, and found myself promoted to level 2 gymnast.  Ruth had
been promoted earlier; her younger body was more flexible and adaptable
than mine was, despite my greater experience with ballet.

   We left Bikini Beach early, and Jen came along with us.  Mrs.  King
dropped Ruth and me off at home just in time to change for dinner.

   Over dinner, Ma announced, "Dan?  Lucy?  Ruth?  Our weekly Firmlove
meeting will be here tonight.  We require all your help in setting up the
basement playroom for the meeting."

   So Pa, Ruth, and I were Shanghaied into bringing a bunch of chairs in
from the storage room off to the side, along with a long table for snacks.
Pa lugged downstairs a large cooler full of sodas, and Ruth and I had to
lug bags of potato chips, cheesitz, corn chips, and so forth.

   Soon, the first participants arrived.  We were supposed to remain out of
the way, doing our own things as usual.  I joined Ruth in her room. 
"Remember Ma's angry rant about Mrs.  Winstead last week?  Do you think
they'll say anything about that today?"

   "Maybe," said Ruth.

   "Let's try to listen to the meeting," I said.  "We may be able to learn
something."

   We went downstairs to the living room.  There were heat ducts which sent
hot air in the winter and cold air in the summer, on the floor of the
living room.  In the playroom downstairs, they were in the ceiling.

   "We need to maintain absolute silence," whispered Ruth.

   I pressed my ear against one of the ducts, and was able to hear what
they were saying.  "...  were able to persuade the judge not to release
Joseph on bond," said an unknown voice.  "We had to emphasize the danger a
potential drug dealer posed to the community.  However, we failed at
persuading the judge not to appoint an attorney for Joseph.  At least, a
stint in jail may be just what is needed to persuade him and other
potential drug dealers that rules and laws are to be obeyed." They spoke
more at length about this Joseph.

   Then the voice of a woman who appeared to be the leader of the group
said, "Next on the agenda: a proposal by Mrs.  Cuttington to expel Mrs. 
Winstead from this Firmlove branch." Several voices exclaimed in surprise
and outrage.  I raised my eyebrows and glanced at Ruth, successfully
remaining silent.  "Order, order!  We shall let Mrs.  Cuttington make her
motion and present her reasons."

   I heard Ma's voice!  "I wish to expel Mrs.  Winstead for her advocacy of
crackpot claims, in particular slanderous and defamatory claims made about
my daughter Ruth."

   More exclamations, followed by, "Order!  Order!  Erin?"

   "Mrs.  Winstead practically accused my daughter Ruth, who's only nine
years old, in the infamous rape/murder of Jill Denison.  Supposedly at the
time, Ruth was my son Peter, seventeen years old, and I took him to Bikini
Beach to change him into Ruth.  I mean, the very idea!  Ruth has always
been my daughter, and how could anyone think that Bikini Beach, an
exclusive water park for girls and women, nothing more, transforms people?"

   Everyone spoke at once, and I couldn't understand any of them.  "Order,
order!" Eventually the noise quieted down, and the leader called out,
"Deborah?"

   Another woman, who must have been Mrs.  Winstead, said, "This is all
utterly ridiculous.  You should all ask yourselves, would I make such a
claim that Bikini Beach actually changes boys to girls?"

   I heard Ma shout out, "Liar!" just like a little kid!  The leader said,
"Order, Erin!  Continue Deborah."

   "Clearly, Erin knows perfectly well that Ruth has always been Ruth.  In
order to claim that Bikini Beach changed her son Peter to Ruth, I would
also have to explain how she and her family always remembered Ruth as part
of the family!"

   Ma promptly said, "Deborah is lying.  She said Ruth was dropping hints
around that she was formerly Peter, yet unable to say so directly.  She
implied that Bikini Beach had the power not only to change Peter to Ruth
but also make us believe Ruth always existed *AND* make Ruth unable to tell
her own story."

   More chatter and exclamations emerged.

   "Order!  Order!  Biff?"

   A male voice said, "For what it's worth, the police arrested a young
negro male for Jill Denison's murder.  There was never any talk of the
murderer being a white boy."

   Another female voice said, "As teacher at Central High, I hear all sorts
of crazy rumors and stories.  Among them are claims about Bikini Beach: it
changes boys to girls, people to animals, plants, vampires, and even
inanimate objects.  It even bans girls' swimsuits that cover too much!  Its
owners are witches, vampires, aliens from space.  I've always attributed
those rumors to jealous boys who can't get admitted to Bikini Beach because
of its girls-only policy."

   Another male voice: "I don't know who's in the wrong, but here's one
thing I do know.  Even bringing up such claims, even if unambiguously
denied, furthers the beliefs.  It's basic human psychology.  If you say,
`Purple cows don't exist,' one is more likely to entertain the notion of a
purple cow than if you remained silent about them."

   The leader spoke again: "Mrs.  Cuttington made the motion.  Unless
there's a second, I shall table the motion and go to the next item."

   A male voice spoke: "I move this alternative: Mrs.  Cuttington's motion,
and all discussion thereof be stricken from the record, and we continue on
as if the motion and discussion had never occurred"

   A series of voices shouted, "Second!"

   The leader: "Discussion?" A moment later, "All in favor?"

   A series of voices shouted, "Yes."

   "Against?"

   Silence.

   "The motion passes.  Next on the agenda, Lisa Albertson's oldest
daughter's involvement with necrotism and neopaganism."

   Necrotism?  Neopaganism?  I had no idea what they were, but it certainly
sounded scary.  Pagan.  Probably contrary to Christian Science.  I
continued to listen, and learned a number of things.  Neopagans were
atheists who worshiped Satan -- or was it a Goddess?  Or Satan as a
Goddess? -- and became witches through power bestowed on them by Satan.  A
quarter of the teachers in the public schools were secretly pagan, and
lured students into their clutch.  Modern physics and quantum theory were
simply paganism in disguise, and the public money used in building huge
accelerators -- that's what it sounded like -- was secret public money for
pagans.

   They had a break, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the
basement, so I dashed into the kitchen.  Ruth went somewhere else.  I
pretended to look through the pantry, and then hid behind the pantry door
when they entered the kitchen, and listened to what sounded like might
become an actual fight between Ma and the other woman.

   "You witch!" said the other woman, who must have been Mrs.  Winstead. 
"How could you do this, after all I did to help you with Ruth and Peter!  I
informed and advised you about Bikini Beach, after the lawyer got Peter off
the hook for Jill Denison's murder.  I took in Ruth for the night after she
injured your husband--"

   "I don't know what the Hell you're talking about," replied a very angry
Ma.  Yes, she actually cursed!

   "Oh?  Then why DID you call me, say it was an emergency, and drive Ruth
to my house to spend the night?"

   "Okay, I concede, I can't remember why," said Ma.  "I do remember it
seemed important at the time."

   "You even had to warn Ruth it was either me or the police.  You don't
remember telling me all about that?  You don't remember telling me about
Ruth kicking Daniel, after he spanked her?"

   "Huh?!?  Dan never spanked either of my daughters.  He told me he
refused to spank girls.  And certainly, Ruth never kicked Dan.  There's no
way she could kick him so hard as to injure him."

   Mrs.  Winstead said, "You told me that Ruth had caused a major
disruption at Bikini Beach on July 4th.  To compound it, she refused to let
you spank her.  You took her home and had Dan spank her as punishment for
both the disruption and not letting you spank her.  Then you described
Ruth's kicking your husband in specific detail.  First, she kicked him at
the top of the stairs, making him fall downstairs.  Then she jumped --
almost flew, you said -- downstairs and landed on his side -- jamming her
heel into him right as she landed.

   "You told me that when Ruth was Peter, he had a blue belt in Taekwondo.
Some of that must have remained in Ruth.  How could you possibly forget our
long discussion, where we finally agreed that reforming Peter was hopeless?
Ruth kept denying her guilt, kept resisting discipline, and kept engaging
in behavior unbecoming a girl her age?  Even deliberately dropping clues
around trying to tell others, when you made it abundantly clear that her
change from Peter was between you and her alone?"

   What?  What kind of talk was that?  Someone is a victim, and the
criminal proclaims that it's only between the victim and himself?

   "Now that's just way out!" exclaimed Ma.  "You must have been dreaming
or something."

   "Excuse me?  I wasn't dreaming.  You called Bikini Beach yourself that
night to arrange for Ruth's membership to be upgraded to lifetime, with a
new reality-shift to wipe out everything that Ruth did the past weeks and
replace it with normal behavior.  It would also remove Ruth's own memories
of having been Peter, as well as everyone else's and eliminate Peter once
and for all.

   "Oh, my God!  I just realized -- you got caught up in the reality-shift
yourself.  No wonder you don't remember any of this, Erin!"

   "That explains it," Ma said angrily.  "You talk all sorts of nonsense to
me, of course you will lie about it, deny it when challenged."

   "Erin, all this was supposed to be just between you and me.  Now that
you've gone public with it -- hush, someone's coming."

   Another woman entered.  "The break's over.  Let's get back to work." Ma
and Mrs.  Winstead followed the woman back downstairs, and I got out from
behind that door with relief.  Oh, my!  If last week was merely a
suggestion that Ruth was originally an older Peter, these were all blatant,
unambiguous statements.

   I found Ruth -- didn't know where she hid.  "Did you hear any of that?"
I asked.

   "All of it," answered Ruth.  "I wonder if Pa heard any of this."

   "Probably not enough to understand it.  The television in his office is
probably on too loud, and he's probably caught up in some old classic
movie. But let's go upstairs."

   Once we got in my room, I continued, "This settles things.  You were
definitely Peter, changed to Ruth at the first visit.  It seems as though
you were falsely accused of murdering Alice's cousin Jill.  Bikini Beach
made you forget everything Saturday morning, and made me forget -- well,
whatever and whenever they made me forget." I just realized I had no idea
what I'd forgotten in Saturday's reality-shift.

   "This is so weird," said Ruth.  "Me being a seventeen-year-old boy, me
being in high school.  High school?  That's so scary!  So what do we do
about it?"

   "Let's sleep on it.  Meanwhile, I might practice my clarinet.  It's been
a while." I returned to my own room, and practiced for about half an hour,
not too loud.  Then I went and peeked in Ruth's room.  She appeared sound
asleep, so I went back, changed into one of Pa's tee-shirts, and went to
bed myself.

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

   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 bare-bottom
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 reality-shift 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 bug-eyed 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 half-asleep
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.)

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

   A Bikini Beach Summer

   by Daphne Xu

   Part 13

   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.

   Thursday, July 17th

   "Luke, the Kings are here!" called up Ma.

   "Coming!" I was all ready, in my swimming trunks and sneakers and socks
just like Tuesday to cover my mortifying Lucky-Charms toenails -- they were
mostly faded out by now, but I still didn't want Ma or Pa to see even their
remnants.  They weren't so bad at Bikini Beach, although a couple girls
there giggled and said, "I like your toes!" I went downstairs, Ma gave me
enough money for a one-day pass and meals.  Daisy, who'd spent the night,
hugged us both.  Her hug felt nice on my bare chest.

   Ruth and I got into the SUV.  Helen and Vernon were there, of course, in
their swimwear.  To my surprise, Jen was there.  She was leaning against
Vernon's bare torso, and Vernon had his arm around her.

   "Jen spent the last two nights and yesterday with Vernon," announced
Helen.  "They were awfully loud -- especially Jen."

   "Helen!" said Mrs.  King.  "What an awful thing to say!"

   "But it's true!"

   I just sat there in shock and excitement, thinking about the activities
they must have engaged in.  I shifted my equipment on my lap to make sure
my growing bulge was hidden.

   Jen was bent over in mortification.  I briefly saw her face trying to
hold back tears, as Vernon pressed her to his chest.  "Helen," he said
slowly and deliberately, glaring at her.  "If you were my little brother,
you wouldn't last ten minutes."

   "Nanny nanny boo-boo, you're gonna be my big sister in thirty minutes!"
Helen stuck her tongue out at Vernon.

   "And as your big sister, I'll have no qualms in grabbing you by the
scruff of your neck and flinging you all the way back to the last
millennium."

   "Children, children!" said Mrs.  King.  "Helen, look what you did to
Jen. Apologize promptly, or I'll put you over my knee when we reach Bikini
Beach."

   Helen looked over the back of the seat at Jen and Vernon, and Jen turned
a distressed face to her.  "Oh, no.  Sorry, Jen." Helen actually looked it
even.  She lowered her own face to the seat.

   "It's okay," mumbled Jen.

   We eventually arrived at Bikini Beach.  We were so accustomed to going
directly for the turnstiles, that I had to remind myself that I needed to
get a new pass.

   Ruth asked, "Mrs.  King, can Helen and I go to the turnstiles?  We still
have our passes."

   "Sure, go ahead.  Enjoy yourselves!"

   "I'll go with them," said Jen.  "If you don't mind, that is, Vernon."
She glanced at him with a loving look.

   "Certainly," answered Vernon.  "I'll see you inside -- as Vanessa, of
course."

   I was apprehensive -- was I really going to change into a girl?  Not
only that, what would I think or remember?  I remembered only being a boy
the past times -- or even just not noticing -- but that was apparently a
false memory.  Was Bikini Beach making a unique exception for me?

   I had no idea now.  I was tempted to bolt, and take the bus back to
town. I was too embarrassed to mention turning into a girl, though, so when
we finally arrived at the booth, I remained silent while Mrs.  King and
Vernon discussed various options with the saleslady.

   "...  a longer membership than my usual two-week," Vernon was saying.

   "We have an inexpensive two-month membership," said the saleslady.

   "That ends a couple weeks into school," said Vernon.  "What happens if I
attend the first two weeks of school as Vanessa?  How does it affect me
when I return as Vernon?"

   "I really don't know anything about that.  Anya or the Boss herself
deals with those long-term memberships.  Hey, Anya!" she called out to the
side.  "Care to switch?  A customer is considering a two-month membership."

   "Coming," came a voice.

   "Anya'll help you." The saleslady left, replaced by Anya.

   "Hey, Vernon," she said.

   "Hi, Anya.  I'm considering the two-month membership, but I'm wondering
how that would affect me in school, to attend the first couple of weeks as
Vanessa.  I mean, for all I know, Vanessa may have preregistered for
different classes from mine last spring -- I don't remember.  Also, I'm
going out for football, the freshman team.  How would being Vanessa affect
that?  Practice begins several weeks before school starts."

   "Okay, let me check." Anya typed a few things into the computer. 
"Standard reality-shift means that when you revert, Vernon has done some
combination of Vanessa's activities and what Vernon would have done.  We
can, if you wish, make sure that Vernon had his own classes and started
football practice at the right time, regardless of what you did as
Vanessa."

   "That might wipe out quite a bit of what I did with my Bikini Beach
friends.  I don't want that.  Just to be clear," he said, "I want to keep
my Bikini Beach friends forever, and remember as much as possible what I
did with them."

   "Me too." At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more.  "Best
Friends Forever, right?"

   "Right!" We slapped our hands together, then slid our hands into a
handhold he'd taught us earlier.

   "I promise you," said Anya.  "You and your friends won't forget, Vernon.
Only the rest of the world will.  But if you're concerned, then how about
this?  We have Vanessa preregistered for all your classes, and joining the
freshman football team.  You'll take some hassling, but you can handle
that. As Vanessa, you're tough."

   "Sounds good, Anya.  Thanks."

   Mrs.  King said, "You might want to spend a little time as Vernon,
though -- especially with Jen."

   "Jen's parents think I'm female -- or at least will when I change. 
That's why I had Jen with me since Tuesday: I wanted to make sure that I
was Vanessa when Jen got back home.  I don't think I can pull that off
again.  I don't want to risk our friendship with Jen, just so that I could
be with her as Vernon.  So the two-month membership, with what Anya
specified."

   Mrs.  King got her credit card out, and the transaction was processed.
Then she turned to me.  "Luke?"

   "J-j-just one day, p-p-please," I stammered.  "I have the cash." I
quickly got it out, and paid the amount.  Anya appeared to notice my fear.
She looked as if she wanted to say something, but in the end said nothing.

   Vernon and I went into the men's changing room.  Only just now did I
realize what an incredibly lame pun that was, although I was too nervous
now about changing to a girl, to groan appreciatively.  What would it feel
like?  What would I remember?  Would I forget everything about who I was?

   Vernon promptly removed his swimsuit and footwear, and went to shower
nude.

   I sat on a bench, worrying and wondering what it would be like, slowly
removing my shoes and socks, putting off the shower.  Changing into a girl,
I could hardly bear the notion.  I delayed further, first just sitting
there, then removing my swimming trunks as well.  I had to really push
aside my phobia of being seen naked; it was seriously outweighed by my fear
of showering.

   Vanessa returned to put on her bikini.  I couldn't help looking her tall
dark naked body up and down appreciatively.  She was beautiful.  I was
reminded that Bikini Beach existed so that girls would not undergo that
kind of scrutiny.

   She said, "Better shower and change, Luke.  They probably don't
appreciate a naked boy and girl alone together in the men's changing room
for very long."

   After I finished showering, I returned to the bench, furiously kicking
myself metaphorically.  "Are you okay, Lucy?" asked Vanessa.

   "No, I'm not okay!" I replied, slipping back on the bikini I'd worn.  "I
vowed not to wear bikinis here any more, but this morning I succumbed to
temptation and wore my bikini today.  If Pa catches me in this bikini when
I get home, I'm in deep trouble.  He hates it when girls dress in skimpy
clothing, and hates bikinis in particular."

   I'd been mentally kicking myself ever since I got into the car and we
drove off, working myself into a panicked rage.  I'd walked out the front
door, down the walkway to their SUV standing at the curb, wearing only my
bikini and flip-flops -- anyone in the neighborhood could have seen me.  I
didn't even wrap myself in a towel, preferring to use the towels readily
available at Bikini Beach.

   "Not only that," I continued.  "A monstrous nightmare I had at the
sleepover turned out true.  The nightmare had Error as a monster pulling me
away from Ma and Pa, and taunting me that I would chicken out of giving my
planned testimonial at church last night!  And I did exactly that: chicken
out!

   "My testimonial was going to be how I'd finally conquered temptation of
wearing bikinis to Bikini Beach, and wore one-piece swimsuits instead.  I
realized that the testimonial would be embarrassing, but the embarrassment
itself was Error.  I succumbed to the embarrassment last night, and then
this morning I succumbed to the temptation to wear a bikini again!"

   "I have to admit to not understanding your things about your religion,
but perhaps it was a good thing you didn't testify about having conquered
your temptation to wear bikinis -- if indeed you *REALLY* did succumb
today." Vanessa spoke those last words slowly.  "But you didn't.  Bikini
Beach is responsible for the bikini you're wearing."

   "What do you mean?"

   "There's a reason both of us are in the men's changing room, but if you
can't figure it out yourself, you won't believe me if I tell you."

   Huh?  That made no sense whatsoever.

   "I remember a couple weeks ago, you were kicking yourself for wearing a
bikini, afraid of what your Pa would say or do.  I reassured you with
something like, `You're at Bikini Beach now, and everything will turn out
fine.' I wasn't thinking at the time, and didn't realize how Bikini Beach
was causing the problem in the first place.  I'm so very sorry, and
embarrassed about that."

   "Thank you, I think.  I still don't understand, though," I said.

   "Like I said, you won't believe me if I tell you.  You have to figure it
out for yourself."

   Vanessa and I went out to join the others.  Carol, Jen, and Becky were
outside, waiting for us.  Becky was with another girl, one I'd never seen
before.  "Is that you, Vernon?" asked Jen, looking at Vanessa.

   "Yeah, I'm Vernon, although my female name's Vanessa," Vanessa answered,
reaching down and lifting Jen up in a tight hug.  Jen reached around and
pulled Vanessa in a tight kiss, lasting perhaps a minute.  Then Vanessa let
Jen down.

   "You're so tall!" She paused.  "I almost didn't recognize you.  But your
eyes...  By the way, Lucy." She turned toward me with a death glare.  "Why
did you go with Vernon into the men's room?  He's mine!"

   My mouth opened wide; I was utterly speechless.  I'd already changed
into my bikini at home, and didn't bring anything with me I needed to store
in a locker.  Both Vanessa and I were in our bikinis.  All we had to do was
shower, although we both did get naked before showering.  The small men's
changing room was clearly empty, and I had the idea of using it to avoid
the crowd in the women's room, and apparently Vanessa had the same idea.

   "Please, there has to be some rational explanation.  I'm sure Lucy
wouldn't do that to you and Vanessa -- or to me," said Carol, glancing
sharply at me.

   "Bikini Beach's magic did -- had something to do with it," Vanessa said.
"Let's not let Bikini Beach's magic break us up.  Please!  I think each of
us remembers different things, from Bikini Beach's magic.  And all our
memories are partly false.  We need to work through this."

   "I have an idea," said Carol.  "You three need to tell your own memories
of the event.  But we shouldn't have any of our stories influenced by what
we hear.  Let's go into the office.  I'm sure they have writing material,
and we can write things down there."

   "Great idea, Carol," said Vanessa.  We all went to the office building,
me in trepidation because I'd stupidly done something horribly wrong.  I
almost missed Becky's ominous whisper, "I hope we don't encounter
Grandmother."

   "Actually, she quite nice," said Alice, who had joined us somewhere
along the way and followed us silently.  "Okay, I concede your encounter
with her."

   We met Anya again.  Vanessa greeted her, and asked, "May we have pen and
paper, and a place to write?  We have something to work out."

   "Certainly," replied Anya.  "There's one of the conference rooms." She
led us there.

   I was the one in dutch with the group.  I wrote my story the best I
could, including my motive.  I ended with, "I had no idea it would cause
such trouble.  I am very sorry.  I'll never do it again." I was
guilt-wracked and embarrassed over the whole thing.

   I was the last to finish.  Carol read them out loud.  Jen's story was
that I went with Vernon (male) into the men's room.

   Vanessa's version kicked me hard, like a blow to the gut, although not
in the way Jen (and Carol?) meant.

   Vanessa remembered being Vernon, entering the men's room as Vernon, and
changing to Vanessa.  I had accompanied him today.  But she went further:
"Lucy also joined me in the men's room back when we both got our two-week
guest memberships to Bikini Beach and I changed to Vanessa.  Afterwards,
when the passes were in effect, and I was Vanessa full-time, Lucy and I
always went into the women's changing room.  Now that those passes have
expired and we got new passes, we both entered the men's changing room. 
Contrary to all our memories of her, I am convinced that Lucy is a boy who
changed along with me, with her own memory shifted along with mine and
everyone else's."

   Dead silence.  I was sick with shock.  There was no way I could be a
boy! I just couldn't imagine how it would feel to have those bulky things
dangling down between my legs.  How would I squash them up out of the way
when I dressed?  And a flat chest, absent my breasts?

   "Lucy, you're in shock," said Vanessa.  "Take a long, slow deep breath."

   I had to take several long, slow, deep breaths to recover.  Carol came
and pulled me into a tight embrace, my head up against her bikini-covered
breasts.

   "Vanessa," I asked weakly.  "Was this what you meant about Bikini Beach
being responsible for my bikini?"

   "Now," Vanessa continued.  "Don't think about it.  Not until you're
ready.  Boy or girl, you're one of us, and we are all friends here. 
Nothing can pull us apart.  We are here at Bikini Beach to have fun and
enjoy ourselves and each other.  Now, let's go find the Tropical Waves; we
need to exhaust ourselves."

   We all left the office building.  As we walked the long walk, Becky
introduced us to the girl with her.  "Guys, this is Steph.  Both Alice and
I had hot dates last night," she giggled, and both Alice and Steph laughed
with her.

   Alice continued, "Craig -- that was my date -- Craig's older brother
Stephen--" she pronounced it Steven "--drove us, as he also had a date that
evening.  He was going to pick up his girl, and then drop Craig and me off
where we wanted, and pick us up at 11:00.  I had to be home by midnight, I
told them in no uncertain terms.  I said I'd take a cab home, if he wasn't
there by 11:30.  We picked up his girl -- and it turned out to be Becky."

   The three of them laughed again, and the new girl Steph took up the
story.  "We were surprised that the girls were good friends, and they were
just as surprised that we were brothers."

   Alice and Becky agreed, "Yeah," and Becky giggled some more.

   "So we decided to double-date," continued Steph.  "We first went for
dinner, and then we saw a movie.  It was a chick flick.  You'd be surprised
that both of us boys liked chick flicks, but of course it's sexy and
exciting to watch pretty girls and women all talking and being sexy.  And
as a girl now, I distinctly remember the shirtless guys as hot and buff.

   "After the movie, we still had three hours before we had to leave to get
Alice home -- the plan was to head for home at eleven, just to be on the
safe side.  Anyway, we went and found a nice quiet hidden place to park. 
Um, girls, is it okay to tell what happened the rest of the night?"

   "Sure," giggled Becky.  "We don't keep secrets from each other."

   "Except that some of you are GIRLs and didn't tell us -- that's Guys In
Real Life," explained Carol to Steph.  "Such as you.  Totally justified;
one doesn't want to tell such a thing without knowing first that the other
knows about such things.  By the way, how old are you and your brother? 
You would have to be sixteen in order to drive, and you look more like our
age, fourteen."

   "I'm eighteen," answered Steph.  "And Craig is sixteen.  We both can
drive, but Craig's not allowed to drive at night without a guardian in the
passenger seat.  I guess as Steph, I'm only fourteen.  Usually, Steph
remains my age when I come here, but for some reason Bikini Beach made me
fourteen this time."

   "Sorry, that was my fault," said Becky.  "I wanted to show you Bikini
Beach all and my friends, and I wanted you my age, and I had no idea you
knew about Bikini Beach's secret.  I thought that your age would be the
least of your surprises.  It's only for a day."

   "No, no problem at all," answered Steph.  "I'm not in the least upset or
offended.  In fact, I'm quite flattered that you wanted me to meet and get
to know your Bikini Beach friends.  The only thing -- if I'd known we were
going to Bikini Beach, I would have asked to bring Craig, and see if Alice
could come as well.  Of course, I didn't know she'd be here." Steph glanced
at Alice.  "All the more reason to bring Craig.

   "Anyways, about last night," Steph continued.  "I don't think we really
need to go into detail.  Alice had limits on what she was willing to do,
and so we all limited ourselves." I saw that Becky was about to blurt out
something, but then she kept silent.  "It was all nice, mostly talking and
cuddling.  Then we had to take Alice home.  We all met Alice's parents, and
talked some more."

   "That was the first time that I met Alice's parents, myself," said
Becky. "We talked for quite a while, before we finally had to leave.  And
then I insisted that we drop Craig off home before coming to my place. 
Once we were alone, I told him that Alice's limits no longer applied." She
giggled as she said that.  "Aunt Yuko was on her own hot date that night,
and we had the condo for ourselves." She giggled some more.  "I thought
this might be my only opportunity to have sex as a girl, and I wanted to
experience it all.  Heck, I had no idea a girl could cum simply from giving
a blowjob."

   "It's true," said Jen shyly, in almost a whisper.  "If one really loves
one's partner."

   "I hope he reciprocated," said Alice.

   "Oh, he did, he did!  Boy, did he reciprocate!" replied Becky, grabbing
a now scarlet Steph around the shoulders and pulling her off-balance
against her.

   "Um, Becky," said Carol.  "One really should be discreet about one's
activities with another.  You really don't want to embarrass your partner."

   "I discovered the next morning," said Steph, "that Becky makes wonderful
breakfasts." We knew that from the sleepover, and everyone made noises and
gestures of agreement.  "I also met her aunt, who came home briefly before
heading off to work.  Then Becky insisted we go somewhere -- she didn't
tell, but merely directed me, and well, here I am now.

   "By the way, Becky.  You said something a moment ago that, um,
suggests--"

   "I was a boy before coming to Bikini Beach.  Aunt Yuko brought me here,
and got me a whole summer's membership.  Unlike you, I was completely
caught by surprise."

   With all this talking, we reached the Tropical Waves in almost no time.
We spent quite a long time at the Tropical Waves, and I managed to get
quite exhausted.  With considerable difficulty, I managed to haul myself
out of the water and find a reclining beach chair to collapse onto.  I
barely noticed the other girls following me, and I promptly fell asleep.

   The rest of the morning was wonderful, and most of the time I forgot the
notion that I might really be a boy.  When the idea nagged at my mind, I
just dismissed it -- until noon, that is.

   On our way to lunch, we encountered a shop where they sold swimwear. 
"Hey, let's go in here," I exclaimed, realizing this might be my salvation.
"I want to get a one-piece swimsuit."

   "Your bikini's perfectly fine," said Becky.

   "If Pa catches me in it when I get home, I'm dead," I answered angrily.
"I didn't bring clothes to change into."

   "They should give you one free," said Vanessa.

   "What do -- Oh, look!  They still have those July 4th swimsuits, and
they're selling them at the same prices!" I picked one out my size, and
went to pay for it.

   "Lucy Cuttington?" the lady at the register asked.

   "Yes, that's me," I answered, puzzled.

   "We've been ordered to let you have one free, along with a tee-shirt."

   "I appreciate the offer," I hesitatingly said.  "I'm not sure I should
accept them."

   "Take'em," said Vanessa.  "They owe it to you." The saleslady nodded.

   "Thank-you, thank-you!  Where can I change?"

   I changed into the swimsuit just before lunch; it was such a relief, not
to worry about Pa catching me in a bikini.

   Mrs.  King, Helen, and Ruth joined us for lunch, and I mentioned the
trouble I got into with the group.  Mrs.  King said, "I do remember you
following Vernon into the men's room, and I remember wondering why for a
moment.  But I didn't call you out on it, or anything.  Now that you
mention it, I don't know why I didn't say anything."

   "Vanessa says that I was a boy, who changed into me in the men's
changing room." I shuddered and winced as I said that.

   "I've always suspected," said Ruth, surprising and scaring me.  "I
probably knew it before THEY erased my memory." She said the last four
words in an angry growl.  "You always went into the men's room to change,
at least until a couple weeks ago."

   "After you got your two-week pass," added Vanessa, "and remained a girl
full-time."

   I couldn't help sagging down in my seat, and closing my eyes.  Someone
climbed on my lap -- Ruth, from the feel of it.  She pressed up against me,
and put her arms around me.  My arms automatically went around her, and I
finally let loose with my tears.

   The rest of the afternoon was more somber for me, even though I was
conscious of the relief of the fear I'd been feeling all morning, at
potentially being caught by Pa in a bikini.  I tried not to think about me
being a boy, what that entailed.

   When it was time to go, we all gave Steph a goodbye hug.  "We'll see you
again, won't we?" I said.  "Bring your brother, too."

   She was momentarily perturbed to discover that her car didn't exist. 
"We probably took the bus here.  That's how I always come in the morning,"
said Becky.  "Aunt Yuko will take us home and drop you off.  Your car will
probably wind up in your garage tomorrow."

   I had no problem with Pa when I arrived home that evening.  I'd put the
tee-shirt on over the swimsuit while riding home, and when I got home, I
simply changed into my nightgown and robe, before returning downstairs for
the evening.

   .  .  .  .

   I woke up from another of my nightmares of repeatedly having to go to
the bathroom, but never being able to, in progressively more bizarre and
more public places.

   The clock next to the bed said that it was just before 2AM.  I dashed
out and used the bathroom.

   As I sat on the toilet letting the rushlet flow out of me, I wondered
for a moment at the sensation of -- pink?  -- rising up and surrounding me.
A couple weeks ago, Vanessa had told me that the pink always accompanies
"the change." I'd had no idea then what she was talking about.

   Now, as I shook the last drops out of my dick, I wondered momentarily if
I'd just experienced a Bikini Beach transformation, even as I was wondering
why I was peeing sitting down.

   I was still fuming at how Ma and Pa had reacted, catching me in that
July-4th girls one-piece swimsuit that I'd bought and changed into
yesterday.  I'd thought I would fit in with the girls better, if I wore a
girl's swimsuit, even if it were only a one-piece.  (I didn't quite get the
nerve to get a bikini; I'd probably have worn only the bottom.) The tight
strap of material going between my legs even helped conceal my crotch,
making it more resemble a girl's crotch.

   I really couldn't say why I decided then that I wanted to fit in with
the girls more in my swimwear.  I know that sometimes I felt very much out
of place as the only boy.

   I checked my closet.  Yes, it was hanging there, next to my swimming
trunks.

   It took a while to get back to sleep; my mind kept running over Pa's
ridicule.  I hadn't realized there would be trouble when I got home.  But
when I got home, the first the Pa said was, "*WHAT* is *THAT*?!"

   I froze, my stomach sinking, almost nauseous with shame, as I realized
how I looked.  "So," continued Pa.  "You've been around girls so much now,
you want to look more like one.  Perhaps you thought it would look cool. 
No, you just look silly.  You might just have gone all-out and gotten a
bikini.  And for that matter, get something to fill out the top as well. 
Make yourself a clown, while you're at it.

   "I can't believe a son of mine would show himself in public looking like
that!"

   Even Ma, coming into the living room from the kitchen, agreed that I
looked silly in that girl's swimsuit.

   Pa continued, "You're not too old to be put over my lap and spanked nice
and ..." I missed the rest as he stepped toward me, because -- "Ha!" -- I
jumped back into a TKD fighting stance.  I remembered Wednesday's
nightmare, and vowed to stay out of that position.

   "So I look silly, eh?  Foolish, eh?  Don't come an inch closer." I
twitched my front leg, hoping to get the point across.  "You try anything,
and I'll show you silly and foolish!  So help me, I will!" I glared
straight into Pa's eyes.  We both stood frozen, staring at each other.  I
managed to hold my stare without blinking.

   "Yay, Luke!" shouted Ruth.

   "Ruth!" exclaimed Ma.

   "And another thing!" I yelled, ready to act if Ma moved toward Ruth. 
"Nobody ever spanks Ruth again, either!"

   "Fine!" said Pa.  "Get a bikini.  Go naked for all I care.  Turn
yourself into a girl!" He turned and stomped into his office.

   Ma looked soberly at me.  Ruth jumped up to hug me, and I lifted her up
and held her tight to me.

   That had been a most distressing, mortifying end to an otherwise nice
Bikini Beach day -- marred only at the start by Jen being jealous of
Vanessa and me sharing the men's changing room.  

    

A-Bikini-Beach-Summer11-13