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 knows 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.
****