A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu
Part 14
Thanks to ElrodW, Bikini Beach's creator, for invaluable comments on this
story. The Bikini Beach universe and its principal characters are
copyright 2001 by him.
Any comments about Bikini Beach, how it works, what it does, by
characters other than Anya or Grandmother are potentially non-canonical
and wrong. As this story is told from a particular point of view by the
protagonist, this includes comments by the narrator. The protagonist,
and thus the narrative, are what the protagonist believes or interprets
from what he is experiencing. Thus some of the mechanics of BB are
biased by the protagonist's view and experiences. Furthermore, because
of the particular viewpoint of the story, those errors often won't be
corrected. When the errors are corrected, the correction will often be
disbelieved and rejected.
Friday, July 18th
I woke up later than usual this morning, but still not late enough to
miss the Mental Work and the Lesson -- not that Ma would allow me to miss
them anyway. If I got up too late to listen with the family, Ma always
made me listen to them both by myself.
I refused to leave my room except to go to the bathroom and shower, until
Pa left for work. I was fuming over last night's events. At least, I'd
managed to regain a modicum of self-respect, when I threatened to fight
Pa off. But dammit, they were right. Thinking back on it, I looked
really silly in a tight girl's one-piece swimsuit.
I was terrified and embarrassed to encounter Ma again this morning, but
neither she nor Ruth said anything about last night's events. Ma seemed
to be treating me rather gingerly. I wasn't feeling too happy when Ruth
told Ma and me that she wanted to visit the library again. That would
mean I would have to go with her. "Daisy may want to come, too," she
said, reminding me that Carol might be there as well. I was feeling
definitely a LOT happier.
We wouldn't have as much time to spend at the library today, because I
had clarinet lessons followed by Taekwondo, and Ruth had piano and ballet
at roughly the same times.
Daisy did indeed want to join us. Ma drove us again, me in my Taekwondo
uniform and carrying my clarinet material in my knapsack, and Ruth in her
ballet kit with her wrap-around skirt. When Ma let us out she said, "You
get Ruth to piano on time, and I'll get her to ballet as usual. Then you
pick up Ruth and walk home with her, as usual."
I set my watch alarm, to get us going in time.
"You think Carol will be there?" asked Ruth.
"She always seems to spot me, wherever I am," I answered.
"She knows your schedule," said Daisy, sounding a bit mad.
We entered the library. I left my knapsack behind the counter, and we
headed through the adult section. Daisy spotted Carol. "There she is!"
she whispered. She was sitting at a table, reading, and we went up to
her.
She looked up as we approached, casually closed the book and moved it
away, and stood up. "Hey, guys!" she whispered in a husky tone. Her
face was flushed, and she was breathing heavy. I saw that she was
reading Forbidden Flowers. I was surprised she actually dared to read
this out in full view of the library, and I hoped that Daisy and Ruth
didn't see the title.
"Why is your face red, and why do you talk funny?" asked Daisy.
"Why, I'm very excited to see all of you!" answered Carol, still
breathing hard and in that husky tone. She picked Daisy up and hugged
her to herself.
Daisy said, "Forbidden Flowers. How could flowers possibly be forbidden?
Oh, like the poppies in `The Wizard of Oz'?"
"Exactly," said Carol with what looked like a smile of relief.
Unfortunately, we couldn't spend too much time. It was shortly time to
get Ruth to her piano lesson. Again, we had to go early, because I had
to get back to the mall in time for my clarinet lesson.
At Mrs. Prudence's house, we could hear from inside, the sounds of a
piano lesson. Ruth had a good while to wait. "Daisy, I'm going to have
to run to make my clarinet lesson on time. Could you wait here with
Ruth, and keep her company?"
"Please, Daisy?" Ruth added.
So Daisy stayed with Ruth, while Carol and I ran to the mall. Running
was a bit clumsy with the knapsack, but I made it just in time for my
lesson. The girl with the saxophone was leaving and Mr. Oregon was there
waiting. Carol said, a little out of breath, "If I'm not here when
you're done, check for me at the nearby bookstore."
"Just in time," he said. "And all prepared for Taekwondo, too." Of
course, it took me time to set up my clarinet and reed, something I
usually did before class.
The class went routinely, meaning that I routinely stumbled over some of
the more finger-twisting routines. For the most part, I managed to keep
Hot Bikini-Clad Clarinet Babe out of my mind during the lesson. When we
finished, I went out to find that Carol was here, waiting.
It was a nice casual walk to the Taekwondo dojang, which was also in the
mall. Carol quietly took my hand, interlacing her fingers with mine. I
felt a quiet, almost serene excitement, that nevertheless caused my front
to bulge out. I tried to subtly adjust my uniform top down to hide it.
After Taekwondo, it was another nice casual walk hand-in-hand to Ruth's
ballet studio. Daisy and Ruth emerged with a group, chattering among
themselves.
"Bye, guys!" Daisy and Ruth both said, as they skipped over to us and
grabbed our hands.
"I'm might ask my parents if I can start ballet," said Daisy.
"Maybe gymnastics," suggested Ruth.
When we got home, Ruth had the first shower as usual. I stayed down in
the living room with Daisy and Carol. As grimy and sweaty as I was from
Taekwondo, and from the walk home, I sat on the floor. Daisy and Carol
sat down as well, and we chatted about random things.
Eventually, Ruth came downstairs changed into straight clothes. It was
my turn to shower and change into shorts and tee-shirt. When I went back
downstairs, the girls had decided that we would play a game of Sorry down
in the basement playroom. "Sorry's a fun game," commented Carol. "I
like to play something childish on occasion."
It turned out they had an ulterior motive for going downstairs. They
wanted to sit on Carol's and my laps while playing. We wound up
rotating, with Ruth, Daisy, and even Carol sitting on my lap while Daisy
sat on Ruth's. And yes, I got to sit on Carol's lap.
We had to scramble a couple times when Ma came down to check on us and
see if we needed anything.
We talked about random things, including what Mrs. Winstead said about
Ruth as Peter and Daisy's imagination of Peter, and about Bikini Beach
transformations.
Ruth told Daisy and Carol about my confrontation with Pa last night, over
my coming home in a girl's one-piece swimsuit.
Daisy was on my lap at the moment, and went out of control with teary-
eyed laughter, burying her face in my chest. Carol squeaked, obviously
suppressing her own laughter. I felt forever ruined, unable to face
anyone, at how I must have looked in public to hundreds of girls and
women. I realized that Pa was right.
When the girls finally got control, and I managed to get beyond my
mortification, I asked, not expecting any kind of answer, "Why? After
weeks with you and the girls, Carol, why did I want to fit in more in
that way then and there? Come to think of it, why get a one-piece
instead of a bikini?" Why did I feel so relieved, once I was wearing the
girls swimsuit, about fitting in with the girls? Why did I feel that
way, instead of utterly mortified being out in that?
Carol answered, "That's not the right question to ask, Luke."
"Oh?"
"None of them are. We were at Bikini Beach. You were a girl."
"Oh. Right." My face burned.
"The minor question is why you as a girl bought the one-piece swimsuit.
The major question is why I remember you -- either mostly not thinking
about it, or as a boy. I think Ruth also remembers you as a boy there as
well."
"Yeah," she said.
"What that also means is that did you as a girl really get a one-piece
swimsuit? Or did something different get reality-shifted into that?"
Carol paused, then continued, "As Sherlock Holmes says, it's a mistake to
theorize or speculate before one has the data."
"So how do we get the data?" asked Ruth.
"Heck if I know," said Carol.
"Dad's a lawyer. He finds out lots of things. He would know," said
Daisy. "Hey, why don't you come over for dinner. We could ask him. You
all could stay the night, too!"
"I think only Ruth would be allowed to spend the night," I said. I was
quite nervous at the prospect of meeting Daisy's parents. I mean, what
if I did something wrong? Something to offend them?
Carol looked unsure herself. "Remember the catfight?" Ugh, yes! "I
should remind you that if we talk about Bikini Beach changing boys into
girls, reality-shifting, or anything like that, they'll think us crazy.
Unless they already know or at least suspect. But if we do, we should go
for the real major question: what world is hidden in the darkness of the
prehistoric depths behind the curtains of Ruth's eight-year membership
and the lifetime upgrade. Sorry, guys, I recently read a novel..."
Carol drifted off.
I couldn't help laughing, and Ruth and Daisy joined me, even as Ruth
said, "We do know a little bit, from Ma's cat-fight. Bikini Beach
changed me from a seventeen-year-old boy, Peter."
"You seem surprisingly nonchalant about it," said Carol. I agreed,
considering how I reacted to the very idea that I might have been a girl
-- and completely forgotten it.
"And I was apparently accused of raping and murdering Jill Denison, your
friend's cousin."
"Oh, my God. You didn't!" said Carol.
"I hope I didn't!" answered Ruth. "Mrs. Winstead said that I kept
denying it."
"I'm sure you didn't," I said.
"I'm now more than ever curious about what's locked behind Bikini Beach's
transformations," said Carol. "I think we should take Daisy's offer of
dinner up."
Ruth and Daisy both jumped up. "I'll ask Ma," said Ruth. "I'll call
Mom," said Daisy, as they both dashed upstairs.
While they were gone, I said, "I am quite curious to know why Daisy's
parents are so dead set against Bikini Beach. Apparently, they've never
told Daisy or Ruth."
"Asking them would be part of opening the door. I assume they know both
you and Ruth have been going," said Carol.
"Yes."
Daisy and Ruth returned eventually. "Ma said okay," said Ruth. Daisy
said, "My parents want to meet you guys as well."
"Should we dress up for dinner?" I asked.
"No, all of you are perfectly fine. Dad will change out of his suit when
he gets home, and probably into shorts."
Around five, we went upstairs. Ma said, "Have a good time." Thinking of
last night's confrontation, I was glad not to have to eat dinner with Pa
tonight.
Daisy lived a few houses down. I was progressively more and more nervous
as we approached. Carol took my hand, occasionally squeezing it. Daisy
and Ruth also held hands, but they didn't show any kind of nervousness.
Ruth paused a moment, and turned to us. "Luke and Carol, remove your
shoes when we enter." That didn't help my nervousness. I was now
wondering what other kind of embarrassing mistakes I could make because
of different cultures. There were, for example, those families that said
Grace before meals, and I always feared getting tripped up there.
We went up to the front door, and Daisy opened it and we all entered,
Carol and I nervously. We all took off our shoes.
"Mom, Dad! We're home," called out Daisy, as the door closed behind us.
Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto appeared -- oh, my heavens. I went bug-eyed, my
jaw dropped, and most embarrassing, the front of my shorts bulged. Mrs.
Matsumoto was absolutely the hottest girl or woman I'd ever seen -- even
though she must have been in her thirties.
Okay, pretty much every Asian girl I met was pretty, cute, gorgeous, or
hot -- admittedly, I had an Asian fetish. Jen and Becky were both hot in
different ways -- and I only had to glance at Carol, or feel her hand in
mine, to set my heart aflutter. Young Daisy was very pretty, and I even
imagined her as a girlfriend. Mrs. Matsumoto had them all beat. I
couldn't help staring.
Daisy giggled, Ruth quietly snickered, and Carol yanked my hand down
hard. "Ow!" At least it broke my stare. Ruth and Daisy both giggled
some more. I glared at them, and they giggled more and louder.
"Every man who ever meets Mom has that reaction, Luke," Daisy said, when
she finally got control of her giggling. Ruth said something in Daisy's
ear. "No-no-no, I meant the staring, the open mouth, the -- not that ...
I didn't mean that ... down there," Daisy stammered, pointing at my
crotch.
Oh, God! Please, strike me down. That's Daisy's parents there. Please,
please, please! Just a quick, simple death. That's not too much, is it,
please? I stood frozen red-faced, and my shorts front settled down. Mr.
Matsumoto was going to grab me by the ears and toss me out any moment
now.
Ruth whispered again in Daisy's ear. "Oh, oh, oh I'm so sorry, Luke!
Please, I didn't mean it!" Daisy said, grabbing my hands, then quickly
hugging me to further my embarrassment. She turned to her parents,
speaking hyper-fast. "Mom, Dad, this is Ruth's big brother Luke -- the
best big brother in the world."
"Daisy, this young man would *have* to be the best big brother in the
world -- and the best friend in the world to you -- for not running a
mile away after you thoroughly embarrassed him." Daisy looked down
shame-faced, and Daisy's father turned to us. "We are pleased to meet
you." Carol and I both shook Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto's hands, me trying
to push aside my embarrassment. At least he was nice about my
unfortunate public display of arousal.
"I'm pleased to meet you, too," I managed to answer in only a slightly
wavering voice.
"This is Luke's friend Carol," said Daisy.
We sat in the living room and talked with Mr. Matsumoto, while Mrs.
Matsumoto readied dinner. Mr. Matsumoto asked me about school.
"I finished eighth grade, and I'm starting high school this fall. I'm
going to take math and science classes definitely. Also band -- I play
clarinet."
Carol said essentially the same thing, except that she played violin and
flute. "Luke and I went to different middle schools, but we'll be going
to the same high school, Westside," she added. "Luke and I met at Bikini
Beach and became instant friends."
A subtle, instantaneous grimace of Mr. Matsumoto's, that vanished as soon
as it appeared, didn't escape my notice. It wasn't surprising. After
all, they prohibited Daisy from going.
Carol added, "There are six of us who always get together there. Ruth
also comes to Bikini Beach, and has her own set of friends. Daisy would
surely be welcome among them. But she tells us you won't allow her to
go."
I quickly said, "We understand, of course, that there are reasons one
would avoid Bikini Beach. None of us have pressured Daisy to go."
"I realize that, and you've been very good in that respect," said Mr.
Matsumoto.
"Dinner time!" called out Mrs. Matsumoto.
I was relieved, because I didn't know how to go about bringing in Bikini
Beach changes.
The food was wonderful. Carol and I ate in silence, while Ruth and Daisy
chatted, and Mrs. Matsumoto kept making sure we had enough on our plates.
I was wondering how to bring up the subject.
During a lull, I said, "A couple days ago, Daisy asked a question that
may have lurked in the back of my mind, but ... well, I hardly ever
considered. How could I have gone to Bikini Beach practically every
other day, when it's a girls-only water park?"
Mr. Matsumoto said, "One is allowed to make occasional exceptions to
standards it applies. For example, an offer may be valid until July 31.
Nevertheless, the company may let a customer take advantage after July 31
if it chooses."
Carol said, "But Bikini Beach bills itself as a girls-only water park to
allow its members to enjoy swimming and water park activities without the
discomfort of boys ogling them. The exceptions would seem to violate the
Bikini Beach promise to women and girls."
"That's true, and that does make a difference," replied Mr. Matsumoto.
Carol continued, "I discovered quite fortuitously the resolution to the
conundrum a couple weeks ago, just before July 4th. And Luke discovered
it quite unfortuitously on July 4th -- it hit him in the gut."
"I freaked out," I said. "The girls and I even talked about it, to help
me recover. For some reason, it never occurred to me to wonder why the
`resolution' didn't apply to me. Carol only pointed out a couple days
ago that it really did apply. The problem is that the resolution is so
crazy, that mentioning it could get one in the loony bin.
"Mrs. Winstead, a woman in Ma's Firmlove group, tried to talk to Ma about
it, and ... well there's a story to tell. The part I overheard between
Ma and Mrs. Winstead could almost be called a catfight."
Mr Matsumoto smiled briefly at that. "Reality is vastly more complicated
than we can hope to understand -- at least if we're not high-energy
physicists, particle physicists, fundamental physics theorists, string-
theorists, or cosmologists. I'd like to hear the story of Mrs.
Winstead."
Together, Ruth and I first described Ma coming home in a rage over Mrs.
Winstead and what she said about Ruth.
"Mrs. Winstead asked if everything was all better with Ruth, right?"
asked Mr. Matsumoto. "Sounds as if she got her answer."
"It gets better," I said. "This week, the group met at our house, and we
listened in on them. Ma tried to throw Mrs. Winstead out of the group,
for saying all the horrid things about Ruth, and overall craziness. That
failed, but then Ma and Mrs. Winstead had their catfight, their
argument."
"Mrs. Winstead said flat-out that I was Peter," said Ruth. "And that my
lifetime upgrade happened because they were giving up on reforming Peter.
Mrs. Winstead said they were removing my memories of Peter, and removing
everything I did based on Peter."
"Ma got Ruth an eight-year membership, while she only got single-day
guest passes for me. I remember being jealous at time," I said. "Eight-
years. It fits Ruth's age and Peter's original age of seventeen."
Both Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto listened in silence to what we said.
Surprisingly, they didn't seem surprised or dismissive of what we said.
"Presumably, Peter was your older brother," Mr. Matsumoto finally said.
"And Bikini Beach has changed Peter to Ruth, and removed everyone's
memories -- in effect, non-personing Peter."
"So Bikini Beach is affecting our minds even as we stay away," said Mrs.
Matsumoto softly.
"We've known that all along," replied Mr. Matsumoto.
"So you know about Bikini Beach transformations?" I asked?
"Absolutely," he answered.
"I only found out by accident on July 4th, and I freaked out. That was
the night before Ruth got her upgrade. Carol tells me that I had to have
been a girl at Bikini Beach." I winced at saying that, and wished I
could take it back. I continued, "I sort-of remember being a boy there."
"Sort-of remember?"
"Mostly, I never thought of it. But yesterday, I remember wanting to fit
in more with my friends, who were all girls."
"Sort-of remembering," said Mr. Matsumoto. "That's a sign of your memory
being tampered with. They want you to remember being a boy, but they
don't want it complete -- otherwise, you would very much defeat their
alleged reason of existence -- providing a haven for girls to swim and
enjoy water-sports For some reason or other, they don't want you to
remember being there as a girl. We -- my wife and I -- have our own
experience with Bikini Beach."
Mrs. Matsumoto said, "Glenn and I were best friends growing up. I was a
guy then, my name was Ellen -- dammit, I still can't say my male name,
not even now! In any case, we were roommates in college. Spring Break
our senior year, I was persuaded to join a few others in pulling a prank
on Bikini Beach. Glenn tried his best to dissuade me. It was a harmless
prank, but we were caught and changed to girls, ostensibly for thirty
days. I changed into this hot exotic babe, and the world changed around
us so that as far as it was concerned, we were always those girls.
Supposedly, we would change back at the end of the thirty days."
Mr. Matsumoto said, "Here's my version of the story. I never had (or
remembered) any best friend named Alan -- that was her male name. I did
have a best friend up through high school, Stanley, but we went to
different colleges and grew apart. We were both loner nerds, and I was a
loner nerd pretty much through college. I managed to get a single room
my junior and senior years. Then, after Spring Break my senior year,
this lovely girl whom I recognized from a distance, but had never talked
with, suddenly was coming onto me, trying to talk to me. My first
reaction was shock that she was actually talking to me. Then my second
reaction was shock when she burst into tears because I didn't recognize
her any more, and never remembered my best friend."
Mrs. Matsumoto continued, "I kept talking with him and wanting to be with
him. No doubt my looks kept him with me, and we did things together --
movies, walks through campus, walks in parks, lunches, dinners, etc. I
kept counting the days until I would change back. The other girls did
change back, but I didn't!
"I returned to Bikini Beach and humbled myself to see Grandmother again.
Glenn went with me. It turns out I was pregnant -- with Daisy." She
gave Daisy a loving look. "Grandmother told me that I was transformed
for life because of this. I couldn't change back to my male self even
after Daisy was born. Grandmother gave some kind of convoluted
explanation of which I understood literally zero. At least she was kind
enough to restore Glenn's memories of me."
"My parents and other relatives, none of them remember Alan. They only
think of Ellen as my wonderful wife -- which she is, of course." He
smiled at her. "But what concerns me is that, once you have the
possibility of mind control and memory manipulation, you have no idea
which is true and which is false. Well, to a certain degree, if you have
sufficient analytic ability, you can figure out what may be true or false
-- if the mind control allows it."
"Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto," said Carol. "I think you are right to keep
Daisy away from Bikini Beach. She can resist Bikini Beach's mind-control
magic a little bit -- she has memories of some sort of Peter. They may
detect that at Bikini Beach."
"Interesting," said Mr. Matsumoto. "I will have to look into that at
some point." He paused. "Unfortunately, because of their magic -- their
mind-control magic in particular -- Bikini Beach is beyond the reach of
the law. Most people in the law are unaware of Bikini Beach's magic, and
a lawsuit alleging magical activities -- such as assault or battery or
trespass in a person's involuntary transformation and mind control would
probably be sanctioned as frivolous. In any case, Bikini Beach could
make such a lawsuit vanish and make everyone forget about it."
"I wish I had the strength to stay away from Bikini Beach," I said, half
to myself. "There was a time when I would have been outraged at the
mind-control practiced. But I think I'm addicted. I've been a loner
nerd myself, but now I've made a group of very close friends at Bikini
Beach. All of them girls."
"Two of your friends are GIRLs -- that's Guys In Real Life," Carol said
as explanation for Mr. and Mrs. Matsumoto's benefit. "Guys transformed
by Bikini Beach into girls. And memories notwithstanding, you were a
girl whenever we were at Bikini Beach, and also during your two-week
membership. So it was six of us girls together, not five girls and a
guy. There of the girls are genuine girls -- we assume -- and three are
GIRLs. Heck, for all I know, I might be a GIRL, male before getting my
summer pass."
"You won't find out until the pass expires," said Mrs. Matsumoto. "Then
it's quite possible you won't remember yourself as a girl. That's
apparently what happens to Luke every time he goes to Bikini Beach."
I wondered if I could ask or demand that this time, Bikini Beach not
change my memories, or that Bikini Beach let me remember what really
happened the next time I visited.
The dinner eventually ended. Ruth stayed with Daisy, while I returned
home with Carol. We had a nice but short evening together, but then
Carol had to go home.
******************************
A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu
Part 15
Memories Return
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.
Saturday, July 19th
When Mrs. King came to pick us up, I was all dressed -- in clothes -- and
ready. I had my girl's swimsuit with me. Pa didn't like it? Well, up
his. Suppose I did look silly in it? I still had the best friends
anyone could want, at Bikini Beach. They were nice about it.
I was already totally ruined, being seen in public Thursday. How could
it get worse now?
I joined Vanessa, Helen, and another girl Helen's age in the SUV.
I remembered Thursday in the men's changing room, being terrified about
changing into a girl -- wondering what it would be like, what I would
remember. Fortunately, my fears had proven groundless: I stayed a boy.
Vanessa didn't change either; she was already a girl to begin with --
except why did she join me in the men's room? Oh blast it all, that
false memory business. Maybe she did come as Vernon and change to
Vanessa.
Her two-week pass ended with mine, Tuesday. She got a new two-month pass
Thursday. Did she change from Vernon to Vanessa then? Maybe I was
remembering falsely, and my non-change was also false. The reassurance
that my fears were groundless -- was that false as well? It was scaring
me again.
Something she said in the changing room was nagging the back of my mind;
I couldn't quite remember what it was. I kept trying and trying to
remember what it was, to no avail. I decided to relax, think about
something else, and perhaps it would come to me.
We arrived at Bikini Beach. As on Thursday, Helen and the other girl
immediately went off to the turnstiles. Vanessa joined them, since she
had her own pass now. It was just Mrs. King and myself in line.
More memories were nagging at me, that I couldn't quite seize upon.
There had been some concern about Vanessa and her new two-month pass.
Football, school classes in the fall, Jen. "Jen's parents think I'm
female," Vanessa had said.
Jen. Thursday, Jen was jealous when Vanessa had joined me in the men's
changing room. Ahah, that's what Vanessa said there. Something like,
"You have to figure out why we're both in the men's changing room." She
also claimed to be Vernon in real life, but only Vanessa while a member
of Bikini Beach. Was she hinting that she was Vernon when we entered the
men's room?
Were my memories going? How much did I forget? Was Vanessa actually
Vernon at the time, but I just forgot? Did I really turn into a girl at
the time, and then forget about it? Did Bikini Beach mess with my mind?
I was confused, and frightened.
My new bus-card was in my wallet. I slipped it out, and fiddled with it
in my pocket. I wasn't sure I wanted to go through with this; maybe I
should just bolt and take the bus home.
Mrs. King said, "You seem nervous."
"No, not nervous. Just terrified," I answered. "I know, I'm going to
change into a girl when I go inside. Right?" I hated asking that
embarrassing question.
"You've been going to Bikini Beach how long? You should know that by
now."
I felt like a little kid being scolded. "No, I didn't know. They
changed my mind as well, made me forget. I remember always being male.
Maybe as a girl, I remembered always being a girl." I cringed. "What
really happened on Thursday? What really happened Tuesday? Before that?
Nobody can tell me because their memories are as phony as my own.
"I don't want to go inside if they're going to mess with my mind. I
don't want any false memories."
"I'll see what I can do," said Mrs. King.
"If we can't, I don't want a pass. I'll just take the bus back home." I
was feeling very nervous, but I decided I wanted to be firm about this.
I vowed I would be firm, even knowing in the back of my mind I would
likely cave.
I was getting more and more frightened as we approached the ticket booth,
but we finally reached it. "May I help you?" the saleslady asked.
"A day pass for Luke, but we have specific requests," answered Mrs. King.
"No reality-shift, no memory or cognitive alterations, only the minimal
mental and physical changes needed for a transformation to female." She
turned to me. "Is that what you want?"
"Yes," I answered. "I also want to remember myself as I was, boy or
girl, in the past. I want to remember what actually happened to me, what
I saw and heard, in the past. And I want my friends to remember me as
well, as I was, what actually happened with me. My sister Ruth, too. I
don't want phony memories."
"We have a three-week special, for the price of four one-day passes. If
you take that, I would recommend the standard change version. Most
people will remember you as if you were always the girl. You, your
companions, and others you specify, remember you but have at least an
instinctive knowledge of the new version. That way, you can continue
your ordinary routine. But for the one-day pass, the no mental change
version should do."
"One day pass, please," said Mrs. King. "As Luke wanted."
"Coming." The saleslady typed on the computer. "We have a problem here.
Our standing procedure with Luke, as ordered by his mother, Mrs. Erin
Cuttington, is to follow our practice with much younger boys, and have
him forget the changes. His mother was concerned about his reaction, if
he knew he was changing into a girl."
So I was right. I WAS transformed to a girl, then forgot -- thanks to
Bikini Beach, and Ma!
"No!" I exclaimed. "Don't wreck my mind!" Mrs. Eddy's admonitions
against mental malpractice came squarely to mind. "I freaked out July
4th because I didn't know about Bikini Beach changes then. I know about
them now. Ma has completely forgotten, because of one of your reality-
shifts. I've completely forgotten something, I know." I was near panic.
Mrs. King said, "No reality-shift, no memory or cognitive alterations,
other than the remedial ones that he specified. Otherwise, no sale."
"I'll take over, Vicky," said someone from behind her. It was Anya.
"Take my place."
"Thank you, Anya," the saleslady was apparently relieved not to have to
deal with us. "Anya can deal with the problems," I heard her mumble to
herself as she went off.
Anya turned to us. "We'll follow your request. Your current near panic
at something being done to your mind would be sufficient reason. The
reason given by your mother clearly no longer applies, and your
suspicions of her motives may be correct. There is one thing that we
must hold to, however. As a boy, your memories of the women's changing
room must be fogged out. This, I'm sorry to say, is non-negotiable."
"I guess that's okay," I reluctantly agreed. If I was going to cave in,
that was as good a thing to cave in on as anything.
"Another thing. Your friends here will remember correctly, but those not
here won't have their memories restored until they come. Your family
will see you as Lucy tonight, but will remember only Luke. I hope things
work out with them." I was disappointed, but I guess it couldn't be
helped. "You don't want to hear the usual admonition to shower," Anya
continued. "You are correct in that the shower is where you change.
Courage, Luke." She held her hand out, and I grabbed it for a handshake.
"Thank you, Miss. Thanks, Mrs. King," I said, as I turned to the men's
changing room. I kept hoping my memories wouldn't change this time, but
I was still quite nervous that they might.
I stood at a locker hesitating before removing my clothes, and then
removing them slowly. I was putting off my shower.
I finally worked up my nerve, and stepped into the shower. Funny, I
never recalled before noticing how soothing the shower was. I closed my
eyes to enjoy it, when I began remembering things.
... Peter, my older brother, seventeen just as we'd concluded. Peter
disappearing for a few days, after which we were informed of his arrest;
he was in jail. Ma and Pa arguing about whether to hire a lawyer. Ma
sitting me down and somberly telling me that Peter had raped and murdered
a girl. The murdered girl was Alice's cousin Jill Denison. Peter coming
home, required to stay at home except for church and court appearances.
Peter repeatedly denied having killed anyone. Finally Peter was free to
do as he pleased, apparently exonerated. Peter having bouts of fury and
rage at the police, along with nightmares.
... July 4th. Learning about, and being devastated by, Peter's enraged
murderous thoughts. I remembered now that they were directed toward the
police for what they did to him.
... Ruth, the two weeks ending in July 4th. Completely different from
what I remembered. Ruth and Astronomy magazine and "Forbidden Flowers".
Ruth telling about DNA. Apparently, DNA mismatch got Peter off. Ruth
pestering Mr. Matsumoto to get DNA testing for the current suspect in
Jill's murder. Me freaking out upon learning from Anya about Peter's
murderous thoughts as detected by Bikini Beach -- the murderous rage
against the police.
... Me as Luke. Me as Lucy. Ma taking Peter and me to Bikini Beach.
Peter changing to Ruth. Me changing to Lucy. My crush on Mr. Oregon, my
clarinet teacher? Yuck! How mortifying! I'd actually even hugged him as
Lucy. Going out practically naked in a bikini. Even a one-piece
swimsuit showed way too much leg -- as in, one hundred percent. My
desire to be a good Christian Scientist? Was I really going to give a
testimonial Wednesday evening about wearing bikinis and one-piece
swimsuits at Bikini Beach? Boy was I relieved that the pass ended before
that Wednesday evening. Gees, what a bimbo I was.
By now I realized the shower was off. I returned to my bench and locker
to find my one-piece swimsuit where I left it. I put it on; the tight
stretchy strip covering my crotch felt utterly strange, making me all too
aware of the vacancy, the complete change, there -- rather exciting and
arousing, too. It was almost perpetual masturbation. I wasn't sure I
wanted to go outside in this. Being excited and aroused was one thing;
being excited and aroused in public was something completely different.
I finally did exit, and met Mrs. King out there. I blushed, and she
said, "I was wondering what was taking you so long in there, and I would
have entered in another five minutes to see what was wrong. There's
nothing to be embarrassed about, Lucy."
"Mrs. King, you don't have any idea how a boy feels in this body, with
this kind of swimsuit. My standard swimsuit trunks go almost to my knees
-- and that's only part of the problem." I was too embarrassed to tell
the rest. "But also, I suddenly remembered a bunch of new things; things
I'd completely forgotten."
"Would you care to talk about it?" asked Mrs. King.
I wound up spilling it all out, and crying in Mrs. King's arms.
"Would you like to talk to Anya or Grandmother about it?"
"No! No! Anya made me think that Peter was an angry, enraged murderer,
when in reality his rage was directed against the cops who made him
confess. Then Bikini Beach made me forget about it! Bikini Beach made
me forget learning about Ruth and Peter!"
"Okay, we don't have to do anything right now. You might want to meet
your friends. They'll help you calm down, at least escape from this for
a day, if not actually help you."
"Oh, oh! Please, don't tell Alice about this. The murder victim was her
cousin Jill." I didn't want to hurt or devastate Alice.
"Oh my!" She paused, then continued, "I've no words..." She paused
further. "Vanessa said they'd be at the Wild River Fun, if you want to
catch up with them."
"Thanks!" I ran off, and did find them at the Swimming Hole.
I heard them before I spotted them in the water. "Hey, Lucy!" came this
familiar call from the distance.
I ran into the water, dove in when it got deep enough despite the sudden
cold, and swam over to them.
"Oh my God!" exclaimed Becky. "I always remembered you as Lucy back in
school, when you were really Luke! No wonder I never thought of you as
girlfriend material!"
"I never remembered!" I exclaimed, treading water. "As Luke, I never
remembered being Lucy, and as Lucy, I never remembered being Luke."
"Does that mean you completely forgot about us at Bikini Beach, when you
were home as Luke?" asked Alice.
"No-no-no-no! I had wonderful memories of doing things with all of you,
and simply being with you. I often wondered how quickly you girls
accepted me, a guy, as one of your own, and most of the time I thought of
myself as being simply one of the girls -- metaphorically, of course. I
had no idea how true that was literally. Vanessa, you hit the bull's eye
Thursday."
"Whatever did you do differently, this morning?" Vanessa asked.
"I don't think I can tell it the story treading water like this. Let's
head back to the beach. By the way," I continued. "Did Steph come?
What about her brother?"
"Craig? Alice and I are dating them again, tonight," said Becky. "We
need them both male." She giggled. "She's sleeping over tonight, too."
She giggled some more.
When we all got settled back on the beach, I began, "This morning, I
nearly had another of my famous freak-outs On the way to Bikini Beach, I
was thinking about what Carol said Wednesday about Bikini Beach changes,
and then coming to Bikini Beach on Thursday -- being terrified of
changing into a girl.
"My fears had proven groundless -- at least that's what I was
remembering. Then I kept remembering things, primarily about Vanessa
with me in the men's changing room, as well as what she said about being
Vernon."
"Oh my," interrupted Jen. "I remember now, you were Luke when you joined
Vernon then. And I thought you were Lucy, and got all furious and
jealous when you went with Vernon into the men's room! I'm so very
sorry!"
"Wasn't your fault." I hugged Jen. "I thought I was Lucy too, and
thought that Vernon was Vanessa. Even worse, I didn't even think of
being in the men's room until Vanessa pointed it out -- and then I just
got confused. This morning, I remembered you being jealous because I as
Luke was alone with Vanessa in the men's room.
"I can't remember everything I thought, everything that nagged at me, but
I came to suspect that my reassurance was false, a false memory. And
Vanessa's mom flat-out confirmed, I would become a girl -- even said that
it happened so routinely I should have known -- I got really scared about
my mind being messed with.
"I was about to bolt, to run off and take the bus home. Vanessa's mom
helped me. At the ticket booth, I learned that Ma arranged with Bikini
Beach to make me forget -- forget my own transformations, and everyone
else's as well."
"Oh, that's horrible!" said Becky.
"Yes, that's why Jen remembered Vernon, but I remembered Vanessa."
"And I remembered Lucy instead of Luke," added Jen.
"I guess Ma wanted Bikini Beach to make everyone else forget mine as
well," I said. "Then Ma forgot when she had Ruth's pass upgraded to
lifetime. She doesn't remember any more. I forgot everything about
Ruth, with that upgrade!"
"We all did, Luke," said Vanessa. "I'm appalled I forgot what we learned
about Ruth that day. Yes, I know Ruth's upgrade did it, but I'm still
appalled."
"Peter was furious about how he'd been treated, and was framed for a
crime. He was no murderer!" I exclaimed. Everyone spoke at once, and I
couldn't get what they were saying. I managed to calm myself down. "I
don't want to say any more about Peter, until I've talked with Ruth." I
was quite relieved to think up that excuse, and I realized it was the
right thing to do, but I really wanted to avoid talking about the murder
of Alice's cousin.
"I was telling my story," I said. "Mrs. King demanded no reality-shift,
and that I and my friends and my sister remember myself correctly. Anya
saw that I was about to freak out about mind control and memory changes.
I got more than I expected, in that I think I remember what happened
before I began coming here. Vanessa was right on the button."
I stopped, not knowing what else to say.
Vanessa came and hugged me. "If there's anything you'd like to talk
about, we're willing to lend an ear." Then she spoke to everyone, "That
goes for everyone, right? We all have things we'd forgotten involving
Lucy. But meanwhile, we're here to relax and have fun, not to make
ourselves miserable."
We had a good time the rest of the day. By silent consensus, we said
nothing further about our recovered memories. Except for Becky and
Carol, the girls had few memories of me as Luke. We also said nothing
about what we learned and then forgot about Ruth and Peter.
We joined Mrs. King and Helen for lunch, and Helen exclaimed, "Wow! I
remember now, you're Luke!"
That evening, I went home with Mrs. King as usual. I wasn't sure whether
to return to the men's changing room, or go into the woman's room.
Vanessa answered, "I'm not sure it matters. I think that whichever you
choose, you will know where your locker is, and you will find Lucy's
version of your clothes."
I decided that the right thing to do, since I was really a boy -- or at
least would be one tomorrow -- was to return to the men's room. I
noticed for the first time the sign on it inside Bikini Beach, "women's
overflow changing room."
I went to the locker, and found clothes obviously meant for me as Lucy:
white bra and panties, white anklet socks and sky-blue sneakers, and a
light sky-blue short-ruffle-sleeved dress that ended just above my knees.
I joined Vanessa, Jen, and Helen, and Helen's friend whose name I'd
forgotten, and Mrs. King picked us up in the SUV. Rather like an earlier
false memory of appearing in a girl's swimsuit, Ma and Pa were now going
to see me in a dress -- or worse, as an actual girl! Eek! How could I
face them?
Would they even recognize me? Maybe it would be best if they didn't --
it would save major embarrassment. But then where would I go for the
night? Presumably, I'd be back to normal in the morning.
Would Ruth recognize me? Funny, I didn't find the idea of Ruth seeing me
as a girl mortifying, like my parents. She already knew about the
changes. But she was probably over at Daisy's.
When Mrs. King stopped in front of our house, she asked, "Would you like
me to come in with you? To explain things, perhaps?"
I had to be brave. I said, still very unsure, "I think I'll be okay."
"I'll wait here, just in case, though," said Mrs. King. "If you need me,
come and get me."
I nervously walked up the walkway, and opened the door. "Ma? Pa? I'm
home!"
Ma and Pa emerged from Pa's office and the kitchen about the same time.
Ma stopped with an expression of shock.
"Who are--" began Pa, when both Daisy and Ruth dashed into the living
room from the basement stairs.
"Is that you, Luke?" asked Ruth uncertainly.
"Yes, it's Luke! I remember now!" exclaimed Daisy excitedly. "He's Lucy
now. He's been changing from Luke to Lucy, because of Bikini Beach. And
-- oh, my God! Ruth, you were Peter!" She turned back to me. "Bikini
Beach makes you a very pretty girl, Lucy, Luke."
"Just what I wanna hear," I mumbled. I realized anew that I was wearing
a dress in front of my parents.
Ruth suddenly said, "Their car's still out front. Come, I want you to
meet Helen!" She grabbed Daisy's hand and led her outside.
I was alone with Ma and Pa now.
"You really are Luke?" asked Ma slowly.
"Yes, Ma. I guess I'm supposed to be your daughter Lucy now."
"Well, you do resemble quite a bit what I saw in the mirror when I was
about your age."
"I agree," said Pa. "She looks like an older version of Ruth as well.
Very pretty, too." I sighed. "So my question is, just what is going on
here?"
I decided to inject a little humor into the situation. "Pa, do you
remember saying something a couple days ago? Something like this? `Turn
yourself into a girl!'"
"Well yah," answered Pa. "I didn't mean it seriously. Angry sarcasm,
you know. I had no idea..."
I wondered if I should tell him that that was a false memory, created by
Bikini Beach. I decided against it. I realized that I didn't actually
remember the event itself anymore; I only remembered going over it in my
mind when I was Luke for real.
"Ma, Pa, do you mind if I go upstairs and put my stuff away?"
"Um, no, not at all, go right ahead," said Ma.
I went up to my bedroom, and opened the door. "My bedroom!" I shouted
loud enough for Ma and Pa to come running up. Of course, I remembered it
well; the surprise was feigned to get Ma and Pa's attention. It was my
bedroom as Lucy. The colors were different -- brighter and more pastel -
- and the room was overall much neater. I checked my closet. Hanging
inside were dresses of all sorts, including the new adult-like dress I'd
bought during the sleepover, and also the leotard-type semi-dress. There
was the olive-green miniskirt I'd worn on July 4th. I also saw several
swimsuits, including my contraband bikini. There were many things I
hoped Pa wouldn't notice.
"Oh my!" said Pa.
"How did all this get here? Where did it all come from?" asked Ma.
"I guess that it changed when I changed this morning," I answered. "Ma,
you forgot when you upgraded Ruth's Bikini Beach membership to lifetime.
Pa never knew in the first place. Try calling Mrs. Winstead. She knows.
You'd probably believe her over me."
"I really shouldn't be saying this, but we're not on speaking terms,"
said Ma.
I wasn't going to tell her that I'd overheard her dispute with Mrs.
Winstead. In particular, I wasn't going to call it a catfight in front
of Ma or Pa. "Ma, suppose you called her, and tried to make up with her.
Suppose you offered a humble, genuine apology. Maybe even invited her to
Sunday Dinner tomorrow."
"That's an idea," answered Ma. "I think I'll try it. She used to be
such a good friend."
"Losing one's friends over a single quarrel, that's just so sad," I said.
I wondered if I would have thought that as Luke.
Ma went straight to the phone in the kitchen. While she was talking with
Mrs. Winstead, Ruth and Daisy returned from visiting the Kings.
"Helen and Greta are very nice," Daisy said. "I want to see them again."
If Mrs. Winstead came to Sunday Dinner tomorrow, I was going to bring up
Bikini Beach transformations, if I had the courage and didn't chicken
out. The idea was developing in my mind. Perhaps if I had Mr. and Mrs.
Matsumoto to support me...
"Um, Daisy? Pa?" I began. "Since we had dinner last night with Daisy's
parents, I think we should invite them for Sunday Dinner tomorrow. You
as well of course, Daisy."
"Oh, yes. Please, Pa?" begged Ruth.
"That sounds like a good idea. But if we're already inviting Ma's
friend..." said Pa.
"Oh, there's room for all of us," I said.
At that point, Ma returned to the living room, having apparently finished
her phone conversation with Mrs. Winstead.
"Room for what?" she asked, then immediately continued, "Great news!
Mrs. Winstead has accepted my apology, and is coming for dinner
tomorrow!"
"Ma, could Daisy and her parents come for dinner too?" asked Ruth.
"After all," I added, "I had dinner with them last night."
"Very well. It appears I'm going to have to cook double portions,
tomorrow," said Ma. "I'll call and invite them." Ma returned to the
phone.
She returned shortly. "Great news!" she said. "Glenn and Ellen -- and
Daisy of course -- will be coming for Sunday Dinner tomorrow." It took a
moment to recall that Glenn and Ellen were the names of Daisy's parents.
It was late now -- past Ruth's bedtime, and approaching mine. I decided
to head off to bed. I recalled wearing nightgowns and even sometimes
oversized tee-shirts that I "borrowed" from Pa, but I didn't feel
comfortable now in anything but pajamas. I put on a pastel green set,
even though the pants were embarrassingly short, and went to bed.
******************************
A Bikini Beach Summer
by Daphne Xu
Part 16
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 20th
Peter and I were having a nice, friendly Taekwondo sparring practice.
Suddenly his face turned monstrous, and he launched his hardest, fastest
jumping sidekick at my face--
--and I woke up. I cried at the memory; he'd returned from jail so
different. He always tried his best not to take things out on me. He'd
start, then freeze. After probably counting to twenty or fifty, he
apologized. Now he no longer existed as Peter; he was Ruth, my nine-
year-old sister.
I finally noticed that I was back to normal, as Luke. My bedroom was
also back to normal.
Lucy's body as I remembered now, felt incredibly strange. Not only that,
I was really embarrassed at being seen by Ma and Pa as a girl. Utterly
mortified.
I remembered Peter, returning home after being gone four or five days.
His face was all changed -- looked older, meaner, disfigured, angry. He
was quick to anger, but also very quick to apologize to me. He clearly
was trying his best to avoid getting angry at me. He was stuck at home
practically all the time; his attorney came to visit a couple times, and
sometimes took him out -- apparently to the court.
I remember once, he came back from a court session and happily told me
that he was free to do as he wanted -- the murder case against him was
dismissed. DNA testing, he'd said. The murderer's DNA didn't match his
own.
I remember being shocked that Ma was furious and upset at this outcome.
"Think of the girl he raped and murdered!" I overheard, followed by
Peter's angry bellow, "I did no such thing!"
Saturday, Ma inexplicably (at the time -- I understood now) took us to
Bikini Beach.
And Peter became Ruth.
I was uncontrollably furious, now. I punched my bed, punched my pillow,
and was bouncing around my bed. I thought of getting up right then and
there, to go punch Ma out, almost forgetting that Ma had completely
forgotten. Ruth knocked at the door, and I froze, embarrassed at being
caught or overheard. "Come in, Ruth!" I called.
"Luke, you scare me!" She approached gingerly. "What makes you so
angry?"
I reached out and took her up in a hard hug. "It's what they did to you,
Peter. It seemed like Ma even wanted you convicted and severely punished
for Jill's murder. I guess I didn't tell you -- I remember everything
now, I think."
Ruth sat on my lap and leaned against me, and I kept my arms around her.
I don't know how long we sat like that. I think both of us dozed off.
At one point I realized that I really had to go to the bathroom.
Both of us took care of that particular issue, and then we got in our
bathrobes, preparing to go down for breakfast.
I noticed that that dress I wore had reverted to jeans and tee-shirt. I
checked my closet, and yes, it had reverted too. The girl's July-4th
swimsuit was still there, while the other swimsuits were now my knee-
length swimming trunks.
The adult-like dress had changed to the well-fitting suit of Wednesday
night. Of course, I was going to wear this again rather than that old
ill-fitting suit.
Downstairs, Ma had just finished cooking breakfast, and we began eating
in silence.
After a little bit, Pa finally spoke out. "What happened last night?
Did I have a really bizarre dream, or did a very pretty young teenage
girl actually appear, claiming to be Luke?"
I couldn't see my face, but I could feel it about to catch fire. I
pushed through my embarrassment to go on. "Yes, Pa, I really was that
`very pretty young teenage girl.'" I actually managed to admit that to
Pa! It helped my embarrassment to say that in a sarcastic tone. "Bikini
Beach changed me."
"Okay, okay, I'll accept that," said Pa. "Especially as she resembled an
older Ruth, about your age. Your bedroom somehow changed to a girl's
bedroom, too. At some point, though, I would like an explanation. One
that makes sense, that is."
"I don't think I can give any kind of explanation that makes sense," I
said. "Bikini Beach transformations aren't meant to be understood by
mere mortals." I was quoting Carol, who'd said that earlier. I turned
to Ma. "Your dispute with Mrs. Winstead? I hope you realize that she
was totally right. She wasn't insane; you'd forgotten instead."
Ma looked perplexed. "She said that I'd forgotten, but how could I have
forgotten such a major thing? The whole thing was crazy."
"As crazy as me coming home last night as a very pretty young teenage
girl, Ma. Bikini Beach made us forget all about Ruth, when you got her
that upgrade the day after July 4th. You forgot. But Mrs. Winstead
remembered.
"But Pa." I turned to him. "Bikini Beach Transformations -- every boy
or man who goes to Bikini Beach changes to a girl."
"Ohhhh-kaaaaaay?" said Pa, drawing it out. "So you were a girl
yesterday. What about Thursday? Tuesday? Every time you went to Bikini
Beach beforehand?"
"Reality-shifts, memory changes, who knows what, occur. I don't
understand it. But until yesterday, whenever I was Lucy, we all thought
I was always Lucy. And whenever I was Luke, we all thought I was always
Luke." I decided to leave it at that. I didn't want to confuse things
any further, suggesting that Ma and Ruth may have known otherwise before
July 4th, or telling that I was Lucy for two whole weeks.
"So what happened yesterday? Something must have happened differently,"
Pa said.
"Yesterday, I was on the verge of freaking out about the mental
malpractice, and demanded no reality shift, and also to remember what I'd
been really."
Ma said, "Now everyone, we must keep our focus on the Truth in Christian
Science: there is one Mind, and disagreements, confusion,
misunderstanding, mental malpractice, panic, `freaking out' are
impossible in Science."
Sigh. I should have known Ma would say something like that. At least I
didn't have to try to explain further, as Ma turned on the tape player
for the Mental Work.
During the section on mental malpractice and mental malpractitioners, I
thought I of what I could have said in response: "There is one Mind, and
mental malpractice is impossible in Science." Then I remembered that Ma
had said that herself.
Then we got ready for Sunday School and Church. Now that I remembered,
this was one case where it was better being Lucy. A nicely fitting,
comfortable dress was better than that old suit I wore. Fortunately, I
now got to wear the new suit that fit me properly.
As soon as Sunday School ended, Ruth and I accosted each other. "Let's
go outside and talk," I said.
As we went out, Ruth commented, "Beth looks a bit sick now."
"The girl in your class visiting for the summer?" I asked.
"Yeah, her."
We said nothing more about it, as we found the rock. I was leery of
wrecking this new suit I was wearing, so I didn't sit on that rock.
Instead, I leaned against the wall of the church.
"I'm concerned about dinner," I said. "Mrs. Winstead and Daisy and her
parents are going to join us. How am I going to bring up Bikini Beach
and everything?"
"Well, just do it," said Ruth. Ruth was sounding a little like before,
when she had a certain maturity and adultness that I now realized were
Peter in her. "That's what Grandfather told Hallie in `The Parent
Trap.'"
I didn't get to see that movie; Pa checked it out, and declared that
eleven-year-old girls acting sassy, naughty, and overly-modern were
immoral. Apparently, they even showed one of the girls naked! "I take
it you saw it at a friend's house?"
"Yeah. last spring. Julie invited us to a sleepover, and we watched the
movie."
For a moment, I forgot that that never happened, because Ruth was Peter
then, still in high school.
"Ruth, I remember you as Peter before visiting Bikini Beach, and that
Bikini Beach changed you to Ruth. You don't remember anything about it,
right?"
"No, I don't remember," she answered. "But I realize it happened. You
remember. Daisy remembers. Mrs. Winstead told Ma. And I have an eight-
year membership upgraded to a lifetime membership. And of course, you
came home last night as Lucy."
I blushed, and laughed a little. "Pa called me a `very pretty young
teenage girl.'"
"I agree," said Ruth. "Daisy agrees as well. You were very pretty."
Ruth paused, and then said, "If you can't bring up Peter, I'll do it."
During church, I was worrying about Sunday Dinner with the Matsumotos and
Mrs. Winstead. Would I have the courage to bring up Bikini Beach? Would
Ma allow it? What would Mr. Matsumoto say? It was scary.
I tried to plan out what I would say, or how I would raise the issue. My
mind kept going around in circles, forgetting what it thought just
before. I decided Ruth was right: just do it.
Usually Ma socialized considerably after church, but this time Ma decided
we had to get home to get Sunday Dinner ready. Chicken, she said, was
already in the oven, but there was still plenty more to do.
When we got home, Ma had us all get out of our Sunday clothes, and then
help prepare the dinner. Apparently, this was to be even bigger event
than Sunday Dinners usually were, because we had guests coming.
We had everything set up just in time to hear the doorbell ring. I went
to answer it. "Hello, Mrs. Winstead. Please come in." She wore a long
red dress, and had her hair tied up into a bun.
"Hello, Luke. I'm very happy to meet you."
In the living room I called out, "Ma, Mrs. Winstead's here!"
Ma promptly came and said, "Hello Deborah. I'm very glad you could
come."
I decided it would be a very good idea to get back into that suit. I
wondered if I should eat in the older, uncomfortable suit, but decided I
didn't care to feel that uncomfortable. I would be uncomfortable as it
is, talking about Bikini Beach changing people and making us forget.
The doorbell rang again just as I was heading back downstairs. Pa
answered the door this time, staring briefly at Mrs. Matsumoto to the
accompaniment of Daisy's suppressed giggles. Pa shook himself visibly,
and said, "Glenn, Ellen, Daisy. Welcome to our humble abode."
Mr. Matsumoto chuckled. "Dan, still the joker."
We sat down at the feast Ma cooked up. Daisy and Ruth chatted, and the
adults chatted. I kept silent for the most part, paying little attention
to the chatting, wondering when and how to bring up Peter or Bikini
Beach.
At one point, Mr. Matsumoto said, "Luke, I notice you've remained mostly
silent. I sense that something's on your mind."
Okay, here goes. "Yeah. I had a very interesting, yet very strange
experience at Bikini Beach yesterday. And going home, I was concerned
that my family wouldn't recognize me, because I wasn't my usual self."
That led to loud laughter from Daisy and Ruth, and chuckles from Mr. and
Mrs. Matsumoto and Ma. Pa let out a guffaw.
"In fact," I continued, "I was as Pa put it, a `very pretty young teenage
girl.'"
"Luke, why are you telling us this?" asked Mrs. Winstead.
"Well, for one thing, Ma hasn't fully admitted that you were right and
she was wrong in your dispute."
"Young man, that was adult discussion, and is not your concern," said Ma.
"On the contrary, it very much concerns me -- and not only because Bikini
Beach turned me into that `very pretty young teenage girl.' Ma, you
forgot everything when you had Mrs. Winstead upgrade Ruth's Bikini Beach
membership to lifetime. It's -- what's the phrase? Oh, yes, poetic
justice, that you made yourself forget when you made the rest of us
forget Ruth's prior life."
Ma hesitated, and then said in slighly shaky tone, "I don't know what
you're talking about."
"No, but Mrs. Winstead knows. And I can see you remember what she told
you. I only wish we could make you remember everything. A truly
insidious part was that you had Bikini Beach reality-shift everything
away just the day after July 4th -- when I first learned about Bikini
Beach transformations and reality-shifts. That was also when I learned -
- Vanessa figured out -- what Ruth couldn't tell us herself, that she had
been changed from my big brother, Peter.
"That lifetime upgrade made us forget all this about Ruth."
"Young man," said Ma sternly. "I have just about had enough of this
nonsense."
"On the other hand," said Pa, "I am quite interested in knowing more
about this. If Luke hadn't come home as a girl yesterday, I would have
wondered if he weren't on drugs. I also remember a couple weeks ago,
you, Erin, arriving home in a rage over Mrs. Winstead and what she told
her -- and it appears to be as Luke said."
Mrs. Winstead said, "Okay, it appears that I have to tell you what
happened. As Luke points out, I'm the only one who remembers now." I
didn't bother to interrupt and correct her. "Peter was arrested for the
rape and murder of Jill Denison, and eventually confessed." I couldn't
help shifting and growling softly in anger, but I held my peace.
Mrs. Winstead continued, "Despite the repeated requests not to, Mr.
Cuttington refused to listen to reason, and insisted on hiring a lawyer
for Peter."
Ma then said, "It's a major, serious issue to be arrested or get in
trouble with the law. Love must be tough and firm. Firmlove has shown
what a serious mistake it is to enable misconduct by hiring a lawyer to
get a person off when he is in trouble with the law. Children and young
adults must understand that acts have consequences."
Pa broke in. "Erin, Mrs. Winstead, no child of mine is going to be
prosecuted for a crime involving potential execution or long imprisonment
without the best defense money can buy. Not even if I know he's guilty."
"Mr. Cuttington, we saw the consequences of your hiring the lawyer. He
got off scott-free."
"Hey!" I couldn't let that go by. "My brother was falsely accused of
the rape and murder of Jill, terrorized into falsely confessing, and
finally cleared through DNA testing. The police probably put him through
the same kind of Hell