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.
******************************
A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu
Part 18
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.
Monday, July 21
I awoke the next morning, feeling utterly depressed and wondering why.
Running over yesterday's events, I realized I felt sorry for Ma. I kept
thinking over and over, how hard Ma worked for us at home -- the feast she
made yesterday, for example.
Then at Bikini Beach, when she finally remembered what she'd done to
Peter/Ruth, even Bikini Beach admitted that they had horribly wronged Peter
-- Bikini Beach, which had actually done the job. Ma had taken several
heart-rending blows. Ruth had even renounced Ma as her Ma.
I found myself weeping, when Ruth knocked at the door. "Come in, Ruth."
She entered and sat on my bed. "We were horrible to Ma," she said
somberly.
"Yeah. Everyone was, except Mrs. Winstead. And Pa," I added as an
afterthought.
"We were horrible to Mrs. Winstead, too," said Ruth.
"Yeah, although I'm not feeling very sorry for her. If anyone was the
villain, she was."
"The police interrogators were," she corrected me.
I didn't want to get into any dispute with Ruth about meaning villains
at the conference, so I simply agreed, "Of course."
We sat for a moment, then Ruth said, "I'm so grateful to Anya for what
she did to my memories of the interrogation. It seems like only a bad
dream now. I don't think I could live with the memories."
I couldn't help crying at that, and couldn't say or do anything other
than pull Ruth against me for a hug. I felt myself getting sleepy, and
said as much. Ruth grabbed the covers and pulled them over both of us, and
we lay down and slept for another couple hours.
We awoke to a soft knocking on the door. The door was slowly opening,
and Daisy peeked from behind the door.
"Hi Daisy," I greeted her. "Come on in and join us. I have to go to
the bathroom first." I slipped out of bed, did the job, and returned and
sat on the bed.
"I want to go to the library," said Ruth. "I want to really see how
much of Peter's skills I've retained. It's not just knowledge; one can
look up facts. I mean like math -- algebra, the ability to do problems.
I'm afraid this would bore you, Daisy. I'm sorry."
"That's Peter in you," said Daisy. "What you learned in high school."
"I hope I haven't lost too much," said Ruth. "You'll probably be bored
with it."
"Oh, I'll be fine. I'll go to the usual area, and maybe get the next
Tamora Pierce book."
We finally got up and went downstairs. It was rather late, and Pa had
apparently left for work. Ma was in her bedroom, but came out to warm up
breakfast for us. She reached for the cassette player to turn on the
Mental Work, but Ruth grabbed it first.
"We've all heard it," she said. "Many times. At the one critical issue
where success was most essential, the Mental Work utterly failed."
Ma stood there, limp, obviously trying to hold in her tears. Even
though it was one of the hardest and most embarrassing things to do -- for
me as Luke (it would have been different as Lucy, thinking I was always
Lucy) -- I got up and hugged Ma. She cried on my shoulder, and both Ruth
and Daisy went around to hug her as well.
After a while, she pulled away and conceded, "Very well, I won't require
you to listen to the Mental Work, or the Lesson anymore." She sounded
resigned.
"Ma, I still have ballet today, and Luke still has piano lessons and
Taekwondo. May we go to the library?" Ruth asked.
"Yes, you may."
We went upstairs, and changed into our uniforms -- my white TKD uniform
and Ruth's leotard with the wrap-around skirt.
On the way to the library, I asked Ruth, "Are you okay with ballet? I
mean, now as Peter?"
"Sure, no problem. I'll admit that, as Peter, the notion of wearing a
leotard and doing ballet would have mortified me had it ever occurred to
me. But I got over it rather quickly once I became Ruth. And as I said
yesterday, Taekwondo and ballet make a lethal combination."
"For me, the notion of being a girl mortified me, when I found out, that
is. It must have been double for you, turning into a little girl," I said.
"Embarrassing, mortifying, and really really creepy, utterly strange.
Seeing you changed as well reduced the embarrassment. But then you started
talking strange, and acting strange."
"As if I were always Lucy, and you were always Ruth," I said. "That
must have been... must have driven you crazy."
"And how! Then Ma appeared, and you left me to her tender mercies."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed, remembered how Ma viewed Peter at the
time. I reached down to hug her.
"Wasn't your fault," she said. "Ma practically taunted me that you
wouldn't remember anything. She was almost Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde to
me."
"Who are they?" asked Daisy.
"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?" asked Ruth. "It's an old story, one I
didn't actually read, although I saw an old movie of it. Basically, Dr.
Jekyll is a doctor and an inventor He invents a potion that separates a
person's bad side from his good side.
"When he drinks the potion, he turns into a psychopathic killer named
Mr. Hyde. Mr. Hyde gradually takes over Dr. Jekyll. Dr. Jekyll and Mr.
Hyde have become the metaphor for someone who's nice and friendly with
(say) your parents, but then turns into a witch with you. She could be a
teacher."
"Oh," said Daisy.
Carol was at the library again. We saw that she was reading a magazine.
She jumped and ran toward us. "Hi, guys!" she said breathlessly, hugging
first me and then Ruth and Daisy. I noticed she seemed a bit flushed.
"There's so much I have to tell you, Carol!" I said, hugging her again.
"A lot happened yesterday."
"Luke," said Ruth. "Don't worry about getting me to ballet. I'll make
it on my own. Go ahead and do your own things."
I leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Is it okay if I tell Carol
about yesterday?"
Ruth said out loud, "Go ahead. She knows most of it already."
"Let's go outside," said Carol. "That way, we don't have to keep our
voices down."
As we walked out, I glanced back at Ruth and Daisy. They were at the
table Carol was sitting at, and I saw Daisy peek under the magazine. It
was just a glance; I couldn't make out if anything really was underneath.
Once we were outside, Carol said, "I couldn't help it; the temptation
was too great. I had to read 'Forbidden Flowers' again." She took a deep,
deep breath. "I really have to get Mom to put me on birth control."
Yikes! I wasn't sure which scared me more, the shocking exciting
prospect that Carol might actually have sex with me, or that Carol might
actually ask her Mom about such things. I grabbed Carol and pulled her
into a tight embrace, and she pressed her mouth up hard against mine. We
kissed and made out for several minutes, before I had to come up for air. I
was red-faced, and even Carol had a tinge of red.
To change the subject -- and to get back to what I'd wanted to tell her
in the first place -- I said, "A lot happened. Um, you still remember me
as Lucy, right?"
"Yeah. It's so weird!" she answered. "I mean, Saturday was the first
time I saw you as Lucy, but remembered Luke. And now I remember Lucy.
There's a whole world of difference between figuring out and knowing
intellectually that you were a girl, and actually remembering it. Then
seeing you as Lucy and remembering Luke.
"The closest I came before was when I joined Vernon and you together in
line for Bikini Beach. I'm not even sure now, whether I remembered Vernon
or Vanessa before seeing you guys. But during that half-hour at least, my
memories of Vanessa were retconned into memories of Vernon. I only
consciously remembered a few things, but overall I remembered Vernon at
Bikini Beach."
"That was when Mrs. King got us the two-week passes, and we turned into
Vanessa and Lucy."
"Yeah. Then bizarrely, I remembered being with Vernon and Lucy in
line."
"While I remembered only Vanessa, once she changed."
"Yeah," she said. "I continued to remember Vernon, while you remembered
purely Vanessa. But all three of us remembered only Lucy."
"That was Ma's doing," I answered. "She and Mrs. Winstead arranged the
whole cursed thing."
"Well, to continue my story, my memories of Vanessa reverted to the
proper memories once she changed. I still remembered, during that
half-hour of Vernon, remembering Vanessa as Vernon -- vague memories except
for a few that I consciously went over. For example, I still remember
remembering the false memory of meeting Vernon the first time at Bikini
Beach. Boy, that sounded convoluted, didn't it?"
"No, not at all," I said. "I have a lot of that myself. Embarrassing
case in point -- not that the whole thing about being a girl with Pa isn't
embarrassing enough --" Carol laughed. "But anyways. Remember that time I
was terrified of going home and being caught by Pa in a bikini?"
She nodded. "You got a one-piece swimsuit."
"Yeah, I wised up. Having Pa see me in that was embarrassing enough,
but at least he grudgingly accepted those for swimming. But then I became
Luke, and memories changed. Luke went home wearing a tight girl's
one-piece swimsuit."
Carol squeaked, suppressing her obvious laughter. "Sorry. I can't help
laughing every time I think of it, even though I know it didn't happen."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Utterly silly-looking. Pa began chewing me out, and
our confrontation almost got violent. It didn't happen. I no longer
remember it happening, but I remember remembering it and repeatedly going
over it. And Saturday, I brought that swimsuit with me to Bikini Beach,
firmly deciding to wear it again -- just to say, `Up yours!' to Pa."
"Yeah, that's what I was talking about. I only saw Vernon that
half-hour in line. But with you, I'm remembering a whole slew of false
memories of you as Luke, false memories of you as Lucy, genuine -- I hope
-- memories of both." She laughed and said, "A very hot, very handsome guy.
A very hot, very pretty girl." She grabbed me in a hug, and we kissed and
made out again.
I looked her up and down. "And my memories of you: all girl, very
pretty, whose smile lights up the world." I blushed while saying that, and
we kissed some more.
"Say, Luke. Is it time for piano yet?"
"Yikes!" I glanced at my watch. "Still half an hour to go. Ruth has
all of Peter's memories now -- I haven't told you that story yet. Let's
get my stuff, and I'll tell you on the way."
We returned to the library's front desk and I retrieved my knapsack with
my piano music.
"Going home, meeting Ma and Pa as Lucy, was a frightening and
embarrassing thing Saturday," I said. "They had no memories of Lucy --
only Daisy did. They were easily persuaded that I was Luke, even though I
was, in Pa's words, `a very pretty young teenage girl.' They said I looked
both like an older version of Ruth and a very young version of Ma."
Carol giggled. "I can imagine it, a boy being seen as a very pretty
young girl -- by one's parents no less. Becky expressed the same
sentiments."
"My bedroom, or Lucy's, clinched it for them, I think."
"Anyways, I persuaded Ma to make up with Mrs. Winstead, and invite her
for Sunday dinner. I had the idea of having Mrs. Winstead come clean
about Bikini Beach. At the same time, I proposed to Pa that Daisy and her
parents come for Sunday dinner. Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have invited
you, too."
"Oh. that's quite all right." She smiled and put her hand on my
shoulder.
I forgot for a moment what I was going to say. Then, "Yesterday
morning, we got to talking a bit. Mainly to confirm to Pa that he wasn't
dreaming the day before when he saw me. We told him about Bikini Beach
transformations. I'm not sure he believed me, since he remembered only
Luke except for the day before yesterday.
"We went to church. Then after church, we had Sunday Dinner with Mrs.
Winstead and Daisy and her parents. It took a while, but then I managed to
bring up Bikini Beach."
"How did that go over?" asked Carol.
"Mrs. Winstead confirmed that Ruth was indeed formerly my big brother
Peter, seventeen at the time, and accused of the rape and murder. We got
into quite an argument in spots, with Mrs. Winstead being fundamentally
clueless about the very notion of someone being falsely accused. Oh, and
Pa has forbidden us from going to Bikini Beach, because of what it does to
our minds. I can't go tomorrow, or any more."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. The girls'll miss you."
"I'll miss them as well. At least I'll continue to see you, Carol.
Anyway, ironically, we all went to Bikini Beach yesterday to discuss Ruth
and Peter. Everyone except Mrs. Matsumoto and Daisy. I met Grandmother
for the first time."
"Oh? How did it go?" asked Carol.
"She wasn't stern in the least with me or Ruth. In fact, one glance at
Ruth, and she freaked out with guilt. She restored everyone's memories of
us, and what happened, including the criminal case. I don't know about
Mrs. Winstead, but Ma was finally convinced that she did Peter wrong.
Peter was no murderer." I continued, wondering whether I should really say
this. "I don't know if I told you this before, but," I was really shaking
with fear. "The murder case was Alice's cousin's murder." There. I got it
out.
"I don't think you told me, but I pretty much knew it. At least Ruth,
Peter didn't do it."
"We also learned that the day before Ma took us to Bikini Beach, the
actual murderer was arrested based on the DNA testing. He's not the
current suspect. Bikini Beach wiped that out when they changed Peter to
Ruth. The current suspect is someone different."
The subject was depressing, and we remained silent after this until we
reached Mrs. Prudence's house.
Carol waited outside while I had a piano lesson worse than usual -- far
from the worst, but still worse than usual. Then we went to the mall for
Taekwondo, and then to meet Ruth and Daisy again at the ballet studio.
I remembered doing ballet as Lucy. I tried a few leaps and spins on the
way. My mind remembered, although my body was overly stiff. Nevertheless,
I managed them without total clumsiness. Muscle-memory, I figured, must
not be really muscle memory, but some level of mind-memory.
Carol applauded, and then hugged me. "Not bad! Not bad at all!"
We reached the studio just as Daisy and Ruth emerged with other kids.
One of them said, "They're here for you again, Ruth. Hi, guys!"
"Hi, guys!" I responded.
Ruth whispered in Daisy's ear, then said, "See-ya, guys," to the others.
Ruth and Daisy both ran up and jumped on us, Daisy on me and Ruth on Carol.
I lifted Daisy up for a good hug, and Carol hoisted Ruth with some
trouble. "Ooof!" she exclaimed. "I'm not used to carrying kids like
this."
"This has been only a fairly recent development for me as well," I said
while adjusting one hand under Daisy's bottom and the other around her back
to hold her firmly against me. She wrapped her legs and arms around me.
"But one gets accustomed to it quickly, especially when one discovers how
wonderful it is. But don't expect us to carry you all the way home like
this," I added. "I'm not quite up to that."
We were slowly making our way to the stairs, as the other girls and boys
from Ruth's ballet class rushed past us to get home, many saying goodbye to
Ruth.
"Carol, I never realized until now how pretty you are," said Ruth.
"Geez, thanks, Ruth," Carol said.
"Pretty... hot... sexy," Ruth continued, in a husky voice, sounding
almost lecherous. "If Luke had brought you home while I was still Peter...
well, it's very uncool to hit on one's kid brother's girlfriend.
Nevertheless, I would have had a hard time restraining myself from hitting
on you--" Carol emitted an embarrassed laugh. "Especially after getting to
know you, even risking making an enemy of my kid brother." Ruth looked over
at me. "You have excellent taste in girlfriends, Luke."
I blushed before I came up with an appropriate come-back. "I would
simply have to console myself with Daisy." I held her tighter to me, and
she kissed my cheek, as both Ruth and Carol laughed.
Carol and I let down the girls when we reached the stairs down, and we
walked the mile walk home, talking about random things.
We spent the afternoon playing outside with other friends of Daisy and
Ruth until dinner time.
It was during dinner that the call from Mr. Matsumoto came. Daisy was
momentarily scared that she should have gone home or called at the very
least, but his call was about something completely different. Pa spoke
with him for a while, then hung up and told us the news:
"Timothy Anderson, the suspect in the Denison murder has been released
on bail."
"Grandmother worked fast," commented Ruth.
"He's been released into his older brother's custody. His bail
conditions are basically house arrest except for court appearances and
church attendance -- pretty much the same as Peter's were over a month
ago."
"I'm really frightened about his mental state," said Ruth. "I mean, I
was enraged, imagining all sorts of vengeance against the police, with a
hair-trigger temper. And he's been in jail more than a month longer than
me. I hope he can manage to stay home, holding to his bail conditions, and
avoid ripping his house apart. Or maybe Grandmother softened his
memories."
"I understand he lives in town in an apartment with his brother," said
Pa. The rest of his family lives in a small town quite a ways away. He
was here originally to attend a better high school, and he just graduated
this past spring."
"This is getting scary," I said. I was afraid of learning that...
"He's black, right?"
"Yes," said Pa.
"What was his name again?"
"Timothy Anderson."
"Also called Tim? And he lives with his older brother in a downtown
apartment?"
"I don't know where it is, but yes, with his older brother," answered
Pa.
"It sounds as if he could be..." I couldn't say it.
"Jen's friend Tim," said Carol. "I've known it. I never mentioned it,
because I didn't want to poison our friendships."
"At least we know he didn't do it," I said. "The real killer was
arrested the day before Peter and I first went to Bikini Beach. When Peter
became Ruth, Peter's arrest and the DNA testing that acquitted Peter and
got the real killer were wiped out, and Tim was next in line after Peter
for whatever motivated those cops."
"Excuse me," said Ma. I glanced over at her, and saw her trying to hold
in her tears as she got up and left the room.
"Oh, oh, oh!" I said, distressed with guilt.
"I wish you hadn't discussed that in Ma's presence," said Pa.
"Oh, I know. I know." I was about to cry myself. I moved the plate out
of the way, and lowered my head into my arms. Carol pulled herself against
me, and both Daisy and Ruth came around and squeezed in to hug me. "I
think Ma needs the comforting," I said.
"Your Pa's gone to do it," murmured Carol next to me.
We didn't do much of anything that evening. I practiced a little piano
and clarinet. Carol had to go home, but before she left, we talked with Pa
about my going to Bikini Beach the next day. I didn't say anything about
that "very pretty, young teenage girl." Things were too serious.
Pa was very sympathetic, but overall, very much avoiding a stern tone,
he reiterated the prohibition against Bikini Beach. "Even though
Grandmother and -- what was her name?"
"Anya," I answered, quite sure who he was referring to.
"Yes, Anya. They seem like very reasonable persons, but we still don't
know what they might do with our minds. Sorry, Luke."
Carol then asked if I would be disappointed if she went to Bikini Beach
to join the other girls, instead of staying with me. "No, not at all," I
lied. Fortunately, I promptly came up with an excuse that made me feel all
the better. "I don't want to lose them. You can keep me connected with
them, when I can't see them."
I walked her out to the bus stop, reaching it when the bus was still
visible several blocks away. We made out until the bus stopped and she
boarded. Then I returned home.
I practiced a little more piano, and then Ruth accosted me and showed me
an algebra problem. "Luke, do you think this is right? Or did I merely do
gibberish?"
I couldn't really tell from looking it over. It was always easier for
me to do a problem myself, than to read and go over someone else's work.
"I don't know. Give me the problem itself, and see if I can do it. That's
easier for me.
She gave me the problem, and I went to the kitchen table to do it. It
was actually rather straight-forward, although it took me a little time. I
eventually got the same answer as Ruth, and saw that Ruth did pretty much
the same as me.
"Looks like you did it right -- or roughly the way I did it," I told
her.
"Good," she said. "It looks like I have at least some of Peter's skills
back. I didn't just do random gibberish here."
Daisy, who'd been sitting in silence, glanced at the papers, and said.
"I don't understand a bit of this."
"Well," I said. "The basic idea is that we would like to find out what
a number is. We don't know what it is, but if we call it a letter, then we
can write down equations using it. We solve the equations for the letter.
"Here's a problem. A class has 25 students. There are five more girls
than boys. How many boys and girls are there?"
"You mean, like ten boys and fifteen girls?" Daisy asked.
"Yeah, very good, Daisy! That was fast!" I said. "We have a procedure
to follow, for when we encounter much harder problems. For this problem,
we might let G equal the number of girls, and B equal the number of boys."
I wrote the problem down, and an abbreviation for the definitions of B and
G. "We know these two facts: B+G=25, and G=B+5." I wrote them down.
"Then we substitute for G its expression and get: B+B+5=25. We subtract
5 from both sides of the equation and get 2B=20. Divide both sides of the
equation by 2, and get B=10. So we have 10 boys. Substitute that number
into G=B+5, and we get 15 girls."
Ruth said, "I remember, we were allowed to solve the problem in our
head, like you did, Daisy. But we had to show that the conditions of the
problem were satisfied. Like, fifteen is five more than ten, or 15=10+5,
and also 15+10=25. Sometimes, there might be a second solution. The
procedure allows us to conclude that ten boys and fifteen girls is the only
solution. Uniqueness, they call it."
"This is tough," Daisy said. "Hard."
"Ah, well," said Ruth. "You don't have to do anything like this for
another few years."
"I took algebra last year, in eighth grade," I said. "Funny, when I was
Lucy, I didn't remember taking algebra. I thought I'd taken different
classes."
"Bikini Beach does that to you," Ruth said.
Eventually, it was Ruth's bedtime, and I went to bed at the same time.
Tuesday and Wednesday, July 22 and 23
I woke up the next morning. My first thought was, "Yay! It's Tuesday!
Bikini Beach any my friends!" Then depression hit me as I remembered, no
more Bikini Beach.
I got up and used the bathroom, then returned to bed and lay in bed
awake for another hour.
Pa had already left for work by the time I got downstairs for breakfast.
I saw no sign of Ruth and Daisy. As I made myself a breakfast of milk,
orange juice, and cereal, Ma indicated the cassette player with the Mental
Work, but didn't actually turn it on. I didn't want to hear it.
"I should call Mrs. King, and tell her not to come pick us up," I said
to Ma, going over to the phone.
"I'll let you go to Bikini Beach if you want. We don't have to tell
Pa."
"No, Ma. Pa prohibited us from going, for good reason. I have no
reason to go against Pa. Anyway, he'd find out as soon as Lucy returned
home."
I got to the phone, and managed to reach them before they left. As soon
as I identified myself as Luke, Mrs. King called for Vanessa.
"Hey, Luke! What's up?"
"Pa has forbidden us from going to Bikini Beach."
"He doesn't like you being Lucy? Or he doesn't like the Bikini part of
Bikini Beach?" asked Vanessa.
"He's always tolerated the Bikini part, and my being Lucy merely
embarrasses him now. What he's mad about, and firm about, is what Bikini
Beach might do to our minds. He doesn't like it. He has absolutely
forbidden us from going. He remembers everything now -- Ruth as Peter, the
criminal case, the whole shebang."
Vanessa sighed audibly. "We'll miss you, Luke. And we'll miss Lucy,
too." I heard Helen in the background, and Vanessa talking with her.
"Helen will miss Ruth, too." More talk in the background. "She just asked
about Daisy. I think she wants to see her again."
"Ruth and Daisy would be happy to see Helen as well. She's certainly
welcome," I said.
We talked some more. I thought of mentioning that Tim had been let out
of jail. However, I decided against it. Jen would no doubt tell them at
Bikini Beach.
Eventually, we said our goodbyes, and hung up, me with a sigh. I was
going to miss them. The day loomed empty and boring now.
I practiced a half-hour of piano and a half-hour of clarinet, then got
out a book to read and settled down in the living room.
Ma was doing chores, and I was feeling guilty sitting about when she was
working. When she started vacuuming the living room, I got up and went to
her. "Ma, may I take over from you? You might want a little rest."
"Why thank you, Luke!" I took the vacuum cleaner and tried to vacuum the
living room properly. Ma didn't sit down to relax, though. She found
another thing to do while I vacuumed.
After the living room, I decided to vacuum the stairs, and then my
bedroom. I had to neaten my room just a bit, in order to get everywhere. I
didn't go in anyone else's bedroom or the bathroom. Instead I went to the
stairs down to the basement, and then the basement playroom itself.
I came back upstairs, ready to put the vacuum cleaner away, when the
front door opened and in stumbled a very tearful Carol, arms around Daisy
and Ruth holding her tight on either side.
I left the vacuum cleaner and ran to Carol, who burst into tears as my
arms went around her and she pressed against me. It seemed that any
remaining jealousy Daisy had of Carol had disappeared.
What happened?
Carol started talking. "We've broken up!" she said in a burst of new
tears. "Tim was freed from jail. Jen was so happy and excited. Then
Alice came, furious that the suspect in her cousin's murder was released on
bail.
"Vanessa took Jen's side, and Becky took Alice's," Carol said. "I was
on Jen's side, of course, and I tried to explain that Tim was innocent of
the murder. I mangled it, I know." She cried some more. "I don't know
what I said wrong, but Jen and Vanessa turned against me as well! I
finally ran off, left Bikini Beach, and came here."
We found a seat and sat down, with Carol on my lap.
"You were vacuuming, when I got here," said Carol.
"I'd just finished up," I said. "I've been feeling really sorry for Ma
about everything Ma did for the family."
"That's very nice of you," said Carol. "Most guys don't notice. Or
they're too lazy. Or they think it's all women's work."
"Sunday at Bikini Beach hit Ma hard. After she made the big Sunday
Dinner for us."
We spent the rest of the afternoon together, doing various things.
Carol stayed for dinner, and told Ma and Pa about what happened at Bikini
Beach.
"I take it you want Luke to return to Bikini Beach Thursday?" said Pa.
"If that's okay with you," said Carol.
Pa pause a minute, obviously thinking. I thought of saying that he
would see that "very pretty, young teenage girl" again, but decided against
it. Now was not a time to joke, or to torment Pa.
He finally said, "Okay Luke, you may go."
"What about--" began Ruth.
"Yes?" said Pa.
"Nothing," she said, looking at Daisy, sounding depressed.
Ma came up with correct explanation. "Ruth wants to see her friends at
Bikini Beach, but doesn't want to leave Daisy behind."
"I've managed. I play with other friends when Ruth isn't around," said
Daisy. "However." She jumped up and ran to the phone. She came back a
moment later and said, "Dad says I can go Thursday if Ruth and Luke go!"
"Yippee!" exclaimed Ruth, jumping up to hug Daisy.
This evening was more or less routine. Ma went to her Tuesday Firmlove
meeting. Carol had to go home, Daisy stayed the night, and I practiced
some on piano and clarinet.
Wednesday was routine, but quiet. We went to the Library and met Carol.
I had Taekwondo and Ruth had ballet. We had church that evening.
******************************
A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu
Part 19
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 24
I awoke the next morning, both elated and scared. We were returning to
Bikini Beach! What would I find there with the girls? I had no idea.
Were Alice and Becky still mad at Jen and Vanessa? Were Jen and Vanessa
still mad at Alice and Becky? Were they all still mad at Carol?
I got up just as Pa left for work. Ruth and Ma were already up, and
apparently Ma and Pa had already listened to the Mental Work and the
Lesson. Ma wasn't requiring Ruth and me to listen anymore, so I didn't.
We didn't expect Mrs. King to come pick us up, and she didn't at the
usual time. Ma decided that she wanted to go as well. "Luke's help
vacuuming the house saved me some time, and I could use the rest."
I took that girl's one-piece swimsuit with me, as I didn't want to wear
a bikini there -- even if I had clothes to change to before coming home.
Pa was nice enough to rescind is prohibition on Bikini Beach; I didn't want
to go against Pa's dislike for bikinis. Also, I found the idea of getting
into an argument in a bikini embarrassing, more so than in a one-piece. I
hoped we wouldn't argue, but it might happen.
We arrived at Bikini Beach and got into the line for the booths. Ma and
Ruth stayed with Daisy and me, even though they already had passes and
could go directly to the turnstiles. I tried to tell them that I could buy
the passes for Daisy and myself, but Ma wouldn't hear of it. Ruth wanted
to stay with Daisy.
When we reached the booth, before Ma could speak, I quickly asked,
"Miss, could we have Anya sell us our passes, please?"
Anya, a couple rows down, replied, "I'll be there as soon as I finish
with this customer. I'll trade with you, Marta." It took a minute, and
then Anya came over here. "Hello, Luke. Nice to see you again. Mrs.
Cuttington and Ruth, I'm very sorry that we first met under unpleasant
circumstances. I sincerely hope that you find this situation
satisfactory."
"I'm happy to see you, too, Anya," I said. "We would like a one-day
pass for myself, and one for Daisy here. Same as last Saturday. I don't
think there are any memories to be restored, though. I would like to
explain a couple things:
"Last Sunday, before we came here to meet you, Pa prohibited further
visits to Bikini Beach, because of what it might do to our minds. Pa
allowed me to come today because, well, I don't want to talk about it.
Likewise, until today, Daisy's parents never allowed Daisy to visit Bikini
Beach. You met her father, Mr. Matsumoto, Sunday."
I noticed Anya's reaction of recognition.
"Pa and Mr. Matsumoto are both trusting you, Grandmother, and Bikini
Beach to treat us right and do nothing to affect our minds. I'm trusting
you, too. I'll accept the same thing you mentioned last Saturday," I added
to avoid bringing up the issue. "It's okay to change my bedroom and my
other things for the day."
"We'll keep that trust," said Anya. "There's something else, though, a
danger for you. If you transform too often, you'll get transformation
shock. If you continue coming to Bikini Beach as you've been coming
before, you really should get longer memberships. I'd recommend two weeks
as a minimum. They're cheaper than the number of single-day memberships
you would buy."
"If Pa continues to allow me to visit Bikini Beach, I'll consider it.
Vanessa mentioned transformation shock, saying that's why she was always
getting two-week memberships until last week. I had no idea then, the
danger I was in. Ma probably knew nothing about it too. But now, only a
day-pass please."
Anya rang it up, and gave one for me and one for Daisy.
As we walked toward the changing rooms, Ma said, "I'm proud of you,
Luke. You've come a long way from the shy boy you were when you first came
here."
"The conference made the difference. I came a long way since last
Thursday and Saturday, when I was in a panic over being transformed and
possibly forgetting and falsely remembering things. Ma, you weren't happy
about forgetting things, yourself."
"No, I wasn't," she agreed.
I decided against bringing up her own orders that I not remember my own
transformation or anyone else's. I decided not to mention "poetic
justice." Instead, we were about to pass the men's changing room, so I
said, "Here's the men's changing room -- a lame pun. I'll see you later on
the other side. If you recognize me."
I showered and put on the girl's one-piece swimsuit, which had shrunk to
fit my new size. Again, the narrow strip covering my crotch felt almost as
if I were perpetually masturbating, and I tried to push it as much away as
I could. Think about something else -- definitely not that my legs were
completely bare. I noticed that my shirt and pants had again turned into
one of those innocent, wholesome, yet hot dresses, this time one with two
shades of red. Short sleeves, tight elastic about my waist, and extending
down just above the knees. I sighed, wishing that they could have remained
jeans and tee-shirt, even if they had to shrink to fit my new self.
Again, it took me a little while to work up the nerve, and calm down the
stimulation, to go out into the park. I was also scared about what I might
encounter with the girls.
Ma was outside waiting with -- surprise! Vanessa, Carol, Alice, and
Jen! The four girls seemed rather somber, not excitedly talking with each
other. Vanessa and Jen had arms around each other, of course. Carol
quickly came forward and hugged me. "I'm so glad you came!" We stood
embraced, even as Ma spoke up.
Ma said, "You took quite a while inside, Lucy. We were getting
concerned."
"Um," I blushed, not knowing what to say. I simply couldn't tell her
about the narrow strip of material stimulating my vacant crotch. "I had to
work through certain things."
"You know, Lucy, you can talk to me about anything. I've told you
before."
"Ma, please. I'm Luke in here. There are some things I just can't talk
to you -- or Pa -- about." I blushed again. Standing in front of Ma in a
girl's swimsuit, embracing Carol in a bikini, my head against her breasts,
was hard enough.
"Well, if you can't talk to me, maybe you can talk to your girlfriends.
They'll help." My girlfriends, yeah.
They all came up. "Let us have a turn, Carol," said Jen. Carol backed
away as Jen hugged me, followed by Alice.
"Are you okay," I whispered in Alice's ear.
"Yeah, mostly," she whispered back.
Then Vanessa came. As she hugged me, she bent down to whisper in my
ear, "Carol told you what happened, I assume. Please, let's not say
anything at all about the topic. Things are really fragile among us right
now."
"Okay," I whispered back. "Is Becky coming?"
"I hope so," Vanessa answered, and we pulled apart.
"There she is!" I said out loud. Becky was coming toward us, also
looking rather somber and unsure. This was the most serious I'd ever seen
her. Normally, she'd be running to jump in on us. "Becky!" I shouted.
I decided that courage was critical, and ran to her and hugged her.
"You came!"
We played and swam together -- and went to gymnastics together late in
the morning. Things were almost like before. Once in a while, I wondered
how things were for Daisy. Then I decided she was having the time of her
life.
We met back up with our families at the Tiki Hut for lunch: Ma, Ruth,
and Daisy; Mrs. King and Helen; and Nancy and Cindy. After lunch, I
wanted another nice brother-sister -- or in this case sister-sister -- hour
or two with Ruth.
It turned out more than just Ruth and me. Daisy joined us, and she
wanted Helen and another girl named Greta as well. We went around and
enjoyed ourselves for the next hour or so.
By accident, we caught up with the rest of my girlfriends at the Lagoon
-- and they were all arguing and shouting at each other. I briefly caught
Alice shouting, "Murderer's lover!" at Jen.
"Guys," I said. Nobody heard me, so I shouted, "Guys!" I was still
ignored, so finally I took a deep breath, tried to produce a Luke voice,
and shouted louder than I'd ever shouted before. "SHUT the FUCK up, ALL of
you!"
Everyone around us froze. Out the corner of my eye, I saw Daisy looking
at me in shock.
"It sounds like you're quarreling about the forbidden subject," I said.
"Now, let's put it aside. Group hug, everyone." This was the first time I
ever attempted any kind of leadership with the girls.
"I'm not going to hug any friend of my cousin's murderer!" exclaimed
Alice.
Everyone shouted again at each other, and at me. I couldn't make out
most of the words. Somewhere I heard this exchange: "Tim was innocent!"
"My cousin was innocent, too!" So much for my attempted leadership. But I
couldn't just let it go.
"Grandmother!" I shouted, just to get their attention. The prior
shut-up command wouldn't work again, I knew; it depended on surprise.
"Grandmother!" I shouted even louder.
My command didn't penetrate their quarreling, but it did have an
unexpected effect. "Silence!" came a thunderous command, accompanied by
thunder and lightning -- even though not a cloud was in the sky.
Everyone shut up, including me. Grandmother herself appeared, from
where I couldn't tell. As far as I knew, she didn't flash into appearance
in a puff of smoke. I simply looked around, and there she was.
"Young ladies," Grandmother approached us. "I am aware of the subject
of your quarrel. Young Anderson's release on bail while they conduct DNA
testing was my doing."
"Grandmother, you of all people!? Jill was my cousin and my best
friend!" Alice burst into tears and ran off.
"How could you, Grandmother?" Becky ran off after Alice.
"Hah. Good riddance. We don't need them anyway," said Vanessa roughly,
and then burst into tears, collapsed, and rolled face-down. Jen went to
comfort her. Carol and I followed. I was also in tears.
"I know you didn't mean that," I said.
"Grandmother?" said Jen shyly. "Couldn't you have, perhaps, made Alice
accept that Tim was innocent?"
Grandmother sighed. "That would have been wrong. Mr. Matsumoto was so
right..."
"Who?" asked Jen.
"Never mind. Someone who has complaints about my work and my methods,"
answered Grandmother. "I so wish I had told the story first, before
stating the end. I visited Tim in jail Sunday afternoon and determined
that, yes, Tim really was innocent of the crime, and he was having a
horrible time in jail. I got him released on bail Monday, letting the DNA
testing progress on its own to establish his innocence.
"The worst part of it is that he wasn't even a suspect AND they had the
real murderer in custody, before we transformed the original suspect, also
innocent, and shifted reality around."
"That was me," said Ruth.
"I'll let Ruth and Lucy tell their story if they wish," said
Grandmother, "while I return to work."
"Grandmother, is there any way we can persuade Becky and Alice?" I
asked.
"I don't think so. I have much more sympathy for Alice than I did for
Mrs. Winstead, because Jill was Alice's cousin. And Becky has
unfortunately let her fear and distress for Alice blind her. You might
have more success when the DNA results come, or when Becky reverts to
Bruce. I'm so very sorry. Sorry about everything... especially for you,
Ruth. I realize I never apologized last Sunday. I'm sorry."
"That's okay, Grandmother," Ruth answered. "Your acts were apology
enough."
"Well, I guess I'd better get back to work," Grandmother said.
I'd glanced over at Ruth for a moment, and when I looked back,
Grandmother was gone.
"Um, where did Grandmother go?" asked Jen.
"She took a short cut back to the offices," answered Vanessa. "That's
all I can guess."
"So what do we do about Becky and Alice?" asked Carol.
"We wait," said Vanessa. "Patience. DNA testing will establish Tim's
innocence, and then we can get back to them."
"While DNA testing will prove his innocence, I'm not sure it will get
through to them," said Ruth. "I have my own experience with Ma and Mrs.
Winstead, who had me changed to this little girl you see here AFTER I was
exonerated by DNA testing."
We stayed together, including Ruth, Daisy, Helen, and Greta. We had to
check in with Ma and Mrs. King at one point, to let them know they were
still with us. Even though we went through the motions, we weren't very
happy. The slides and water rides were no longer fun. The best parts were
when we lounged and relaxed, with Jen sitting on Vanessa's lap, Carol and
me next to each other with Ruth and Daisy on our laps, and Greta and Helen
on each other's lap.
We finally went home early. Daisy, Ruth, and I had to go find Ma and
tell her that we wanted to go home. Jen, Helen, and Greta went with
Vanessa, of course. Carol had to run off to tell Nancy that she'd be going
home with us. "Please wait for me; I'll try to find you at the women's
changing room."
"Lucy's friends somehow stumbled onto the forbidden topic, and Alice and
Becky ran off," Ruth told Ma when we found her. "We arrived in the middle
of their quarrel, and Lucy and Grandmother both tried to settle things.
Not even Grandmother could persuade Becky and Alice. We want to go home."
Again, I returned to the men's changing room to change. I looked at
myself in the mirror in that dress. I looked utterly innocent, wholesome,
even childlike. Yet Luke in me was already getting a crush on myself in
the mirror. "Luke," I told my inner self. "You already have Carol and
Daisy. And Ruth. And Vanessa, Jen, Alice, and Becky. That's seven, the
Biblical magic number." Alice and Becky, I hoped. Oh how I hoped. I
decided to tell myself that only Good is real, and that friendship can
never be lost.
I did my best to keep optimistic about it. I realized that my nerves
about Ma seeing me in this pretty dress -- even though she saw me in a
swimsuit; even though she saw me as Lucy many times before -- were minor.
Likewise, my nerves at Pa seeing that `very pretty young teenage girl' in a
pretty dress again were insignificant.
I met Ma, Ruth, Daisy, and Carol and her friends outside the women's
changing room. Fortunately, nobody reacted to me and my dress.
Pa was still at work when we got home. Ruth and Daisy got a bunch of
their friends to come over, and Carol and I joined them for a game of
kickball in the front yard. I thought of changing into knee-length shorts
and tee-shirt, but decided that it was probably too close to dinner, and as
Lucy I would have to change back. I admit to feeling a perverse excitement
when the wind occasionally blew my dress up and distracted the boys in the
group from their play -- especially the opposing team, causing them to
strike and go out needlessly.
One of the boys called out, "I see England; I see France. I see Lucy's
underpants!" Enjoy the view, little boy, I told myself. You won't have
much opportunity.
Eventually, Pa's car drove up and into the garage, which meant it was
almost dinner time. We broke up, and everyone returned home.
It was with trepidation that I followed Ruth, Daisy, and Carol into the
house to meet Pa. Well, at least I had their support. This would be the
first time Pa would meet me as Lucy, remembering both Lucy and Luke from
before.
We entered the same time as Pa entered from the garage. "Hi, girls," Pa
greeted us. He then did a double-take, blushed, and said, "Oh right.
That's you, Luke."
"And Ruth is Peter, you know," Daisy added.
"Strangely enough," Pa sat down with a sigh. "That's easier to take,
than Luke as Lucy. I really can't say why."
I sat in one of the chairs, and Carol planted herself on the armrest
next to me.
"Perhaps because I've been purely Ruth for a month now -- that's all?
Just a month?" said Ruth. "Seems so much longer. Or maybe it's just that
Luke is that `very pretty young teenage girl'?"
I couldn't help chuckling at that.
"That's part of it, definitely. Seeing Lucy sitting there comfortably
in a nice dress, with her legs crossed demurely, and knowing and
remembering that that's Luke in there..." Pa trailed off, and I blushed at
the image I realized I made. I'd crossed my legs without even thinking
about it. "Before, it was either always Luke, or Lucy was always my
daughter. Now, it's different. I really want to push aside the
attraction, and have a good talk with Luke as Lucy. This might be a rare
opportunity." He paused, and then turned to Ruth and said as an
afterthought. "I really haven't yet availed myself of the opportunity to
talk to Ruth as Peter. It appears that Ruth is here to stay, and Peter
will most unfortunately become a vanishing memory."
I turned at a sob from Daisy; she was holding onto Ruth now. "I agree,
it's sad," I said.
"Please, everyone, don't cry over me!" said Ruth. "Lucy's more
interesting to talk about, anyway." I joined everyone's chuckles, even
though for me they were chuckles of embarrassment. "Today is the first I
saw of her since my memories were restored Sunday."
"We already had one very pretty girl visiting, either as Lucy's friend
or Luke's ... friend," Pa said. Now, Carol was clearly embarrassed. "Not
just pretty; friendly and helpful, too."
"I certainly agree about Carol; Luke got a wonderful girlfriend," said
Ruth. "I speak both as Ruth, and back to Peter's perspective. Heck, if I
were Peter and Luke or Lucy had brought Carol home..." she trailed off.
"Getting to really know her would have made the temptation all the worse."
"Now seeing two pretty girls, it gets almost unbearable, especially
knowing that one of them is my son Luke."
"I probably shouldn't play armchair psychologist," Carol said, shifting
her position on the arm of the chair. "But I get the impression, Mr.
Cuttington, that your famous dislike of girls in bikinis comes from being
surrounded by pretty girls, completely untouchable, feeling utterly
powerless, and having to force hard to keep your mind out of forbidden
territory. Like being surrounded by a humongous feast that you mustn't
even sample.
"That's probably very close to the truth," said Ma, who I only just
noticed standing next to the entry to the kitchen. "A number of times,
many years ago, I had to physically grab his head and turn it toward me,
when we out together." By now, Pa was blushing again. "Dan, I hope you
realize that none of society's problems today have anything to do with
girls and young ladies in skimpy dress. We have other things to worry
about, besides Ruth and Lucy possibly wearing bikinis."
Our talk, which continued over dinner, got rather intimate and rather
embarrassing for all of us -- especially Pa and me. I think Daisy got a
bit of an education in subjects a bit too mature for her age. Ruth being
Peter, of course already had full exposure to more explicit subjects -- I
recalled Ruth seriously nauseating me with her knowledge of "Forbidden
Flowers." I was actually afraid, the way the talk became confessional and
emotional, that someone might actually bring up that book. Fortunately,
nobody did.
We even admitted that, no matter which form I was in, Carol was my
girlfriend in *that* sense. "I never knew I had any bisexual tendencies,"
said Carol. "But I'm definitely lesbian for Lucy."
We all agreed to allow Pa to look and enjoy the girls more openly, "As
long as it doesn't get overtly lecherous," said Ma. I asked the same about
me -- looking at girls or guys, according to my form. Ma said, "That
depends very much on Carol's desires. Don't betray Carol in any way."
"I am okay with it somewhat," said Carol. "After all, he is a teenage
boy..." She didn't continue.
Thanks to the conversation, I temporarily forgot the issue with Alice
and Becky, Tim being released, being innocent, and eventually proven
innocent. After dinner, when we separated from Ma and Pa, I expressed my
guilt at having forgotten.
Ruth assuaged my guilt. "Lucy, we can't do anything about it now.
Vanessa was right; we have to wait. When Tim is proven innocent, or better
when the actual killer is caught, then we can deal with Alice and Becky."
She hugged me while saying it.
Friday, July 25
I woke up as Luke Friday morning, distressed again over the girls'
quarrel. I tried to take Vanessa's advice, and Ruth's advice from last
night, to heart. We could only wait. I also blushed at the memory of the
heart-to-heart conversation we had over dinner, with Pa seeing me as Lucy
and remembering everything.
I noticed that unlike earlier times, but like last Sunday, there was no
pretense that I as a boy had done anything at Bikini Beach -- in
particular, gymnastics. I wasn't sore or anything from all the moves that
were effortless for Lucy but darn near impossible for Luke. The little
tanning I got yesterday didn't carry over.
Friday was a usual day, although more somber. Daisy, Ruth, and I went
to the library and met Carol. Ruth had piano lessons with Mrs. Prudence
and I had clarinet lessons with Mr. Oregon -- thank goodness, he had no
memory or idea of my crush on him as Lucy. Memory of that crush was almost
as embarrassing as the memory of Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe. Then I had
TKD and Ruth had ballet. I sort-of wished I could do ballet as well, but I
knew full well that my body wasn't up to it.
Again, that afternoon, we played a full six innings of kickball with
Ruth and Daisy's friends, including that boy who'd voiced Lucy's
inadvertent panty displays. In fact, I overheard him asking Ruth about
that girl Lucy.
"She's unavailable," said Ruth. She refused to say anything else, and
none of us chose to enlighten him further.
It was pretty much a given that we wouldn't go to Bikini Beach on
Saturday. Carol said she'd definitely come over, and mentioned the
possibility of sleeping over that night. That notion left me excited; it
seemed so forbidden. She even called home to ask, when Ma and Pa were out
of hearing. Her parents' no was totally expected, at least on my part.
"I'm sure they would have allowed it for Lucy," she said.
"I'm not so sure, if they knew that Lucy was in fact Luke inside, and
remembered everything," I replied. "In any case, Ma and Pa would probably
not allow it either."
So Carol returned home, and promised to return the next day.
Saturday, July 26
The next morning, I called Vanessa's home, and spoke with Mrs. King.
"Carol and I aren't going to Bikini Beach today. I was wondering if
Vanessa and Jen might like to come visit, or do something with us."
"Vanessa and Jen are already out, doing their own thing," Mrs. King
replied. "I'm sorry; they left only fifteen minutes ago. I think they
would have joined you, if you'd called in time."
"Thanks," I sighed. "What about Helen? Would she like to come visit,
perhaps with Greta? Ruth and Daisy would like to see them again."
"That's a nice invitation. But they're going to Bikini Beach again.
They didn't have the bad experience with their friends, the way your group
did."
Oh, well. It was pretty much Carol, Ruth, Daisy, and me that day. I
did get some clarinet and piano practice in before Carol arrived. And we
did play some with Ruth and Daisy's young friends that afternoon.
Sunday, July 27
Sunday was not a routine Sunday School and Church day. It only began
routinely with the boring hour of Sunday School. I noticed that Beth, in
Ruth's class, didn't look very well.
After Sunday School, when Beth's grandpa arrived, Ruth dragged me over
to him. "I need your support. You don't have to actually say anything,"
said Ruth. "I also need you as a witness."
"Sir," Ruth began, when we caught up with the Grandpa.
"Yes?" he answered. "Sorry, I don't know your names."
"I am Ruth Cuttington, Beth's classmate in Sunday School, and this is my
big brother Luke. Beth is seriously ill. She's been getting worse the
past weeks."
"The practitioner is hard at work on Beth's case," replied Beth's
Grandpa. "And we have been reading and studying `Science and Health.' Beth
is in God's hands."
"Either verify that Christian Science healing is working, or put her
back on the medicine. I suspect it is--" at that point, I didn't pick up
any of the words. Ruth (or Peter in Ruth) was using vocabulary hopelessly
beyond me. But I did catch the end: "... a virtual death sentence."
"Young lady," said Grandpa. "It's only material sense that tells you
that Beth is getting worse. Deny it. Materia Medica theories have no
basis in reality. In fact, your observation, your worry, may be what's
contributing to any lack of success of the Christian Science work. It's a
form of mental malpractice."
Just then, Ma spoke. I hadn't noticed her approach. "Ruth, you know
you are not supposed to question or challenge your elders. Especially not
the elderly."
"And look what that got me, Ma. This is deadly serious; Beth's life is
in danger."
"Mrs. Cuttington," said Grandpa. "Ruth's presence in Sunday School,
with her preoccupation over Beth's sickness, may be what's holding back
Beth's improvement. I ask that she not be brought to Sunday School or
Church until Beth's healing is fully accomplished."
"Okay, Ruth. We're going home." Ma took Ruth by the hand and returned
to her car. I followed, hoping to go home as well. Unfortunately, Ma
said, "No, Luke. You stay and attend church. I won't ask you to pray for
Beth, as it's wrong to pray for someone specifically without her request.
But pray that Ruth see the light and understand the Truth of Christian
Science."
I just said, "Okay," knowing perfectly well I wouldn't. After all, it
didn't seem as though CS had anything to do with our restoration of
memories of Peter and the correct memories of myself as Luke or Lucy. Of
course, it was possible that God worked in convoluted ways, but how could I
know that He did? I was getting almost as skeptical about CS as Peter
was."
Ma didn't return. It was just Pa and I at church today. I tried to
avoid dozing off. I noticed that Pa was dozing off some times as well,
though.
After Church, since Ma had the car, we decided to walk home. I would
have suggested taking the bus, if I had my bus-card, but unfortunately it
was at home. While we walked, I told Pa about Beth and Ruth talking with
Beth's Grandpa.
"So that was why Ma took Ruth home so abruptly," said Pa. "I'm of two
minds. On the one hand, focusing on the material aspect can obstruct a
healing. On the other hand, the spirit of Christian Science is Love and
Compassion, concern for the unfortunate. Ruth was demonstrating those
qualities for Beth. And accusing a nine-year-old girl of mental
malpractice..." Pa trailed off.
"Well, she is seventeen-year-old Peter inside," I said. "And I couldn't
understand what she said. It was Peter talking then."
"Yes, but there's no way Beth's Grandpa could have known that. Mrs.
P-- said that girls Ruth's age are much too young for instruction in mental
malpractice and animal magnetism. So accusing Ruth of malpractice is
almost malicious in itself. I just don't know."
We didn't say much more, the rest of the way home. We were both lost in
our own thoughts -- or at least I was.
At home, Ma had readied Sunday Dinner. Ruth ate with us, but then Ma
sent her back to her room. I went with her, and she handed me a letter.
"Beth gave me her home address. But her parents went on a summer-long
cruise. That's why she's spending the summer with her Grandpa. I'm really
concerned this won't get to them in time. But mail it anyway. It needs a
stamp," she added unnecessarily.
Pa caught both of us as we spoke. "Ruth, did she say anything about
where the cruise was going? What cruise line? Anything we might find
out?"
"Unfortunately not. Just that it was a cruise around the world,"
answered Ruth.
"I see that her home address is in New York City. This may help. Luke
and I can search for information on the cruises. I don't want Ma to find
out what we're up to just yet, so stay in your room for now. Okay?"
"Sure, Pa," answered Ruth.
Pa and I went back downstairs. I stamped the letter. "Get that letter
out," said Pa. "Better deposit it in the mailbox down the street, rather
than our own box. I don't really expect Ma to interfere with the letter,
but we do want to make sure it gets mailed."
There was a street-side mailbox a couple blocks down the street. I
walked the distance, deposited the letter, and then returned. Pa was in
his office, but then came out.
"I was on the computer, and I found information about the cruises from
New York City. I think I managed to narrow it down to one cruise that left
a little less than a month ago. At some point, I should let you in the
office and learn about computers and the internet." Oh, my! He'd actually
do that? "Anyway, I got a contact number for the cruise. Hopefully, we
can reach Beth's parents, and get a message to them. Let's call from the
office."
Wow! I was actually being allowed into his office! We had Beth's
parents' names from the letter address. Pa dialed. He eventually reached
a live person, and spoke. "Hello, I have a message for Mr. and Mrs.
Rochester, who may be passengers on this cruise. All I know for sure is
that they went on a cruise around the world, and they probably departed
from New York City. It concerns their daughter, Beth, nine years old, who
is staying with her Grandpa."
Someone spoke on the other end, and then Pa answered, "I am Daniel
Cuttington, a member of the church her Grandpa attends. Beth herself has
been coming to Sunday School while she's here."
More talk from the other end.
"Okay, here's the message. Her Grandpa gave a testimonial a few weeks
ago, telling us that he has taken Beth off her daily medicine. The idea is
to use Christian Science to heal her. My children have reported that Beth
appears to be seriously sick now."
"Ruth thinks that it's something fatal," I said. "I couldn't understand
Ruth's words." Pa repeated our concern that it might be fatal.
There was more talk from the other end. Pa gave them our address and
phone number, and I heard more talk, apparently promising to get the
message to the parents if possible.
"Thank you very much. I most sincerely hope it gets to the parents.
Have a good day. Good bye." Pa hung up the phone.
"Well, Luke, hopefully, the message will get to them today. I think
we've done all we can do right now. Except pray and know that we do the
right thing."
We left the office, and Pa went back upstairs to Ruth's room. Pa and
Ruth returned downstairs, Ruth having changed out of her Sunday dress into
tee-shirt and shorts.
"Both of you, go out and play, or do something outside. This is going
to be strictly between your Ma and me. I'm countermanding Ma's order
sending you to your room, Ruth."
"I have to change clothes, first," I said.
"Go ahead. I'll wait," said Pa.
I went upstairs to change into tee-shirt and shorts.
When I got back down, Ruth asked, "Pa, may we go to the library?"
"Yes you may," said Pa. "Be home by five."
"That shouldn't be a problem," I said, as we went outside. I took her
hand, as we headed off toward the library.
On the way, Ruth said, "Daisy found the book Carol was reading,
`Forbidden Flowers.'"
"Oh?" I blushed, remembering Ruth and "Forbidden Flowers" from way back
when.
"Yeah. She found it quite, um, interesting. We read some of it
together. I really hope we haven't seriously corrupted her."
"Could she actually be hurt by it? Endangered?" I asked.
"Doubtful. But we like to think of nine-year-old girls as innocent.
Even when they're not. You got really sick that time a month ago, when we
met over `Forbidden Flowers'."
"That was Peter speaking, I realize that now," I said. "Although I
never knew that Peter read it. I think I would have been guilty and
embarrassed had Peter caught me reading it as well. I was definitely more
fearful of Peter catching me, than Ruth, way back then. On the other
hand," I was changing the subject. "That can't be Peter in you holding my
hand like this."
Ruth giggled. "No, it's not. Some thinking has still changed in me as
Ruth. And it's Ruth that sees you as a combination of lovable and loving
big brother and hot handsome guy. And Peter in me is seeing you in a new
light, very different from before."
When we got to the library, I wondered if we were going to go for
`Forbidden Flowers' again. But nobody mentioned it, and I decided to go
for the young-adult science fiction section instead. I found a book
called, "So You Want to be a Wizard."
"That's a good book," said Ruth. "Although, if I recall correctly, the
author has no concept of what an equation is. I seriously cringed at
certain scenes of wizardry."
We stayed until the library closed, and then went home, getting home
well before Pa's deadline of five. Ma was still preparing a light Sunday
supper snack, and had nothing to say about Ruth being out of her room.
Daisy was there as well.
We were in the middle of eating when the phone rang.
"That's got to be the cruise," I said. "I hope they got the message to
Beth's parents."
"I hope so, too," said Pa, as he answered the phone. "It's for you,
Luke. A girl, Vanessa. Something sounds very wrong."
Oh? "She's one of my Bikini Beach friends." What was going on? I
wondered as I got up to take the call.
"Hi, Vanessa. What's up?"
"Luke?" Vanessa was crying. "Tim's been murdered."