Chapter IV: Part 4

So Peggy was not about to damage Beth by exposing her. Oh, no. It was not indicated. As for the campers, the girls—why, the last thing Beth would do would be to hurt them. She was so tender, so sympathetic and affectionate, with the kids.

Peggy was enraptured with her new friendship and by the end of the first month, as she readied for another overnight, she felt certain that things would run smoothly for the remainder of the summer.

However, that very afternoon found her wrong in her assumption.

Each Friday, every girl in the camp was sent on a hike with one group or another. Friday was the kitchen staff’s day off, and as at most camps on that occasion, expeditions had to be arranged. Friday was the day the canoe trips threaded the lake, the girls climbed nearby peaks, the visits were made to other lakes, other camps.

The overnight hikers, however, usually left on Thursday mornings, spent Thursday night in the open, returned late Friday to meet the other homecoming girls. They were considered an elite group, since only those attending Peggy’s campcraft and woodcraft sessions were allowed to spend a night in the open. Lilian, as the senior counselor, was in charge of these overnight hikes, of which there were four each summer, but it was Peggy who actually led them. The camp directors considered this her most important function.

This sleepout had begun as all others. After breakfast the campcrafters had trundled up to the lodge, lugging their bedding and other gear over their shoulders or on their backs.

Peggy watched from the top of the hill, greeting each girl with a bright “Hi.” Because of the weight with which the girls were struggling, the reply was usually a mere, “Ugh!” When the girls were gathered inside the main room, Peggy joined them, counted noses, found one camper missing.

After instructing the girls to count off, she told them, “Evens spread your blankets here. Odds over there. Those with sleeping bags, over here.” She pointed to another section of the room. “Last trip, our bedmaking was pretty sloppy. We’re going to run through the routine once more before starting out.”

The youngsters took great pains to lay out their blankets evenly on the floor. Some rounded them three or four times, straightening an edge, pulling a corner, inspecting, then hurrying to the other side once more. Others crawled across the woolen squares on their hands and knees, smoothing ripples as they went.

One nine-year-old made her way to the middle of the blanket on all fours, then stopped, turned to one side so she could examine both ends. Satisfied, she started up, pushing herself by her hands, her little rear end rising first.

Just then a hefty twelve-year-old next to her bent over to smooth a ripple. _Boom!_ The two pairs of buttocks smacked each other, toppling the smaller girl into a complete somersault.

The lodge rang with loud, happy laughter, high-pitched giggles, shy twitters. Even Peggy roared.

The noise finally died away. The two girls straightened their blankets once more—being especially careful to keep out of each other’s way. Deciding not to wait any longer for the stray girl, Peggy called the group together to watch a bedmaking demonstration.

It was then that the missing girl came in. She stopped a moment in the doorway, her bedding slung across her back. Peggy glanced at her.

Alice Hart was an odd mixture of baby fat and young womanhood. She had a round, cherubic face with full cheeks now flushed from the struggle to get her gear to the lodge. Her breasts, well-developed for a fourteen-year-old girl’s, heaved with her heavy breathing, straining against the snug cardigan she was wearing.

The first two buttons of the cherry-red sweater were undone. The third—in a most strategic place—threatened to fly off any second. Even more insecure, it would seem, were her white ultrashort shorts. Peggy wondered how she had been able to struggle into those skin-tight pants, and how soon they were going to burst.

Alice’s sandy hair was rolled back in an attempted twist, but one strand had fallen from place, hung straight and straggly to her shoulder.

Her mouth was a pink-red blob of lipstick; her eyes were black with make-up.

Peggy shot a glance at Lilian, whose expression was inscrutable as she said to the girl, “You’re late.”

Alice crossed the room, her tightly encased buttocks bouncing girlishly, swaying provocatively. She dropped her bundle to the floor, and watched the rest of Peggy’s demonstration.

Afterward, while the other girls struggled with their bedrolls, Peggy walked around, advising, instructing, answering questions. She stopped at Alice’s side. As the girl bent to fold the blanket, Peggy held her breath, watching, waiting for the seams of the white pants to explode. But they did not, and Alice stood up, still in one piece.

“Alice,” Peggy said, as quietly as possible, “as soon as you finish, you’d better go wash your face. That stuff would get smeared all over you on an overnight.”

Peggy could tell Alice was hurt, in spite of the girl’s attempt to smile.

“Since you have to go back to the cabin,” Peggy continued, wishing she knew some of Mike’s child psychology, “maybe you should change your pants, too. It would be a shame to ruin them, don’t you think?”

Alice swallowed. “Yes’m,” she said, her eyes searching the floor. When she had tied up her bedroll securely and was starting for the door, Peggy called after her.

“I think you’d better bring along a blouse. It might get pretty warm today,” she said, hoping the girl would not take offense.

The day never became particularly hot—the sun followed the group behind a cloud screen. But Alice gradually regained her high spirits. She marched along sturdily in blue Levis—tight, but not as snug as the white pants and, in any case, guaranteed not to rip. She also wore a sloppy navy sweatshirt over a white blouse, and sneakers. Her face had been scrubbed to a clean, glowing pink. She had pulled her hair into a ponytail bound with a red ribbon.

At one point Alice dropped back in line to join Peggy.

They trailed behind the other girls for a while, Alice wordless.

Suddenly she blurted, “Miss Peggy, did I look very awful? I mean with all that glop on.”

“Why, no, Alice. You didn’t look exactly awful.”

“But I didn’t look exactly good, either, did I?”

“I wouldn’t say that. You could probably use some experience in making up, but you’ll get there.”

Alice hesitated before her next question.

“Do you think—I mean, did I look, you know, sort of glamorous?”

Peggy forced herself not to smile. “You’re an attractive girl, Alice. You—”

“But I didn’t look glamorous? Not even a little bit?”

“Why do you want to look glamorous? Especially on an overnight?”

Alice examined the ground. She seemed to be studying painstakingly each piece of gravel they stepped on. Then she raised her eyes. Peggy followed her gaze along the line of campers to its head, where Lilian was walking Indian-straight, her regal countenance held high, the black hair swaying in a single braid down her back.

She was wearing slacks of rich brown and a matching sweater. A gold scarf was pinned at her neck. She looked ready for a date, rather than a sleepout, Peggy mused, forcing her attention back to Alice.

“She always looks that way, doesn’t she?” Alice said, a toss of her chin indicating Lilian. “Glamorous.”

“I guess she does.” Peggy looked at the girl, who was gazing wistfully at the front of the line.

Peggy sighed. Kids sure were funny. These crushes of theirs.

Then the irony struck her. What the hell, she herself had a crush, didn’t she? A crush on Beth?

Alice heard Peggy laugh and laughed too. What Alice did not know was that Peggy was laughing at herself.

* * * * *

When the girls stopped at the Allister farmhouse, the place seemed deserted. The youngsters refilled their canteens and continued on their way.

They arrived at the campsite, divided into groups to go in search of firewood. Feeling more lighthearted than usual, Peggy ran with one of the parties, hopping the gullies, leaping over rocks, scampering up a hillside. Carrying armloads of kindling, she trotted back with the youngsters.

While Lilian helped to set out the cooking utensils, Peggy supervised the fire builders. The custom was for the girls, some of them seasoned campers, to do all the cooking and serving.

Dusk began to gather as they ate soup and hamburgers. Then they sat around the glow of the fire sucking campfire sodas—peppermint sticks plunged into round, ripe, juicy oranges—and singing camp songs.

Night was quietly drifting over the hills. Concerned by her bad timing—the bedding had not yet been laid out—Peggy glanced at her watch. It was still early. Puzzled, she examined the watch once more. Just then a low rumble from overhead shook the hills. In the middle of a song, Peggy left the circle, rounded the fire to where Lilian was sitting.

“What do we do if it rains?”

“There’s no shelter in this area except for the trees. But Miss Duncan won’t let us sit out here if it gets bad. They’ll send the station wagon for us.”

“My gosh, Lilian,” Peggy said, her voice rising. “Camp is a good distance away. The kids will be drenched by the time someone gets here.”

“Well, I suppose we could start back now, and stop off at the Allister farm. But—”

She was interrupted by a flash of headlights. Both girls tensed as a strange car pulled to a halt and a man slid from behind the wheel.

“Peggy! It’s me,” he called. “Kirby.”

Relieved, Peggy bounded to meet him.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly.

The campers were on their feet now, clustered near the fire, excitedly discussing the gathering storm. All eyes were intent on Peggy.

“Have you heard from the camp?” Kirby was asking.

Peggy shrugged. “Nobody’s been here yet. I was just talking to Lilian about it.” She glanced doubtfully at the dark sky. “I suppose the storm might pass.”

“It won’t,” Kirby said. “They just announced it over the radio—thunder showers early tonight, continuing through tomorrow. Aunt Lelia insisted that I check on you girls. She said if you want, you can stay at the house.”

“Oh, we couldn’t do that.” Peggy gestured with a sweep of the arm. “There are seventeen of us, including counselors.”

Kirby smiled. “Aunt Lelia has plenty of room, believe me. Besides—” he grinned—“we can always put you up in the barn.”

Peggy hesitated. “I suppose we ought to take shelter there, anyway.”

“You’d better hurry up. When this thing breaks—”

Peggy ran to consult Lilian and was back in seconds.

“All settled,” Peggy said. “But we have to stow the bedrolls and equipment.”

“Load the pots and things in the car with as many girls as you can stuff into the back seat. I’ll buzz them over to the house while you and a couple of the kids pack the bedding. I’ll be back as soon as I can with tarpaulins.”

“Right.”

Quickly the cooking utensils and knapsacks were loaded in the trunk. Then Lilian and eight girls jammed themselves into the sedan. Soon they were off, leaving Peggy and the bedroll crew behind.

As the car rolled away, a flash of lightning slashed the blackness overhead.

“Let’s go, kids,” Peggy called to her helpers.

* * * * *

Mrs. Allister was quite elderly, but spry as a farm filly. Short and stocky, with glinting blue eyes and snowy hair, she was bustling about in a blue chenille robe when Peggy arrived with Kirby and the bedroll crew. As they walked into the kitchen, she turned away from the sink where she had been rinsing cups.

“You sit yourselves right there,” she said to the girls, indicating the large, old-fashioned kitchen table. “I have some nice hot chocolate for you.” She smiled at Peggy. “The others are all tucked in, though I doubt they’ll sleep for some time. You know how children are in a strange place.”

She scurried from the sink to the stove to the table, rinsing cups, warming milk, pouring the thick, rich drink for her guests.

“Where’s Lilian?”

“Upstairs with her kids.”

“Did she call the camp?”

“Not that I know of,” Mrs. Allister said. “But I’m delighted to have you all. Lots of room, you know.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “I was one of five sisters and four brothers, and we were living on here at the farm even after some us were married and had children. Why, I can remember when—”

“Aunt Lelia,” interrupted Kirby, smiling crookedly, “I think Peggy would like to telephone the camp.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Allister said. “Kirby, you show her where the phone is.”

By this time, rain was pelting the farmhouse like buckshot. Crackling thunder punctuated the forked flashes of lightning hurling themselves at the hills. Peggy had trouble getting through to the camp. After fifteen minutes of trying without a result, she decided that the wires must be down somewhere and was about to give up, but just then a local operator came to her rescue. The call was rerouted, and a few moments later Miss Duncan, the director, answered. She sounded beside herself with worry.

“Oh, Peggy! I’m so glad to hear from you. Look, a number of girls got caught in canoes by the storm. They had to beach at the other end of the lake, and the station wagon is out rounding them up. As soon as it gets back, I’ll send it for you.”

“You don’t have to, Miss Duncan. We’re all safe and dry.”

“Where are you?”

“At the Allister farm.”

“Of course! There’s plenty of space there, I know. But aren’t we imposing?”

“I wouldn’t say so. Mrs. Allister is enjoying it, and so are the kids.”

“All right. You stay the night. If it hasn’t stopped raining by morning. I’ll have the station wagon there.”

Peggy hung up, returned to the kitchen, and sat sipping hot chocolate with Kirby. Aunt Lelia shooed the rest of the youngsters off to bed, then excused herself. She always rose at five, she explained, and needed her night’s rest.

Peggy and Kirby sat quietly, listening to the rain slash the window panes.

After a while, Kirby said, “It must get lonely for you girls, being out here in the wilderness with no guys around.”

“I kind of like it,” Peggy said unsmilingly.

“Oh, come on. You can’t be serious. I bet you don’t like it so much that you would turn me down if I asked you for a date.”

“I bet I would.”

Kirby’s face fell. “Are you saying you won’t go out with me?”

Peggy swallowed the last of the hot chocolate. “That’s right.” She pushed back her chair, stood up.

“But—”

“I’d like to go to bed, now,” she said.

Kirby jumped to his feet. “You didn’t mean that, did you? About the date?”

“I meant it.” She turned away.

Kirby caught her by the arm, forced her to face him.

“But look at you,” he said. “You’re a beautiful girl. Why, you’re built like—like a movie star. You must have feelings, desires. It wouldn’t be normal if you didn’t.”

Her hazel eyes blazed into his brown ones. “So maybe I’m not normal,” she said coldly.

“Well, I am, damn it!” With that, he threw his arm around her, forced her in close to his lean, hard body. His head came down. He clamped his mouth to hers.

In that first shocked instant, Peggy was too astounded to react. Then she felt a familiar hot stirring in her loins, faint at first, but growing in intensity second by second. Guilt filled her as Kirby held the kiss. Not because of those stirrings inside her. Peggy knew she was a passionate girl. No—the guilt came because she was responding to the same precipitous, self-centered, humiliating approach that Ted used—and every other male used, for all she knew.

Who did this Kirby think he was, Casanova or somebody?

She broke away. Putting all her strength into it, she slapped Kirby’s face.

“You’d better show me where I sleep, now.”

He was holding his cheek.

Without a word he led the way down the hall.

* * * * *

Peggy did not see Kirby again before leaving the Allister farm. When she got up the next morning, the sun was bright, not a cloud marred the sky. Investigating, Peggy found Mrs. Allister in the kitchen brewing steaming coffee for herself and the two counselors, and more hot chocolate for the campers.

The woman pulled a tray of biscuits from the oven. “Dig in. Better than walking back on an empty stomach.”

Peggy thanked her, asked permission to use the phone, then, after talking to Miss Duncan, went to wake the girls. Soon, in shifts, they invaded the kitchen to sip hot drinks and munch warm biscuits swimming in butter and topped by honey or home-made jam.

When Peggy thought they had had their fill, she suggested the clean-up committee help Mrs. Allister in the kitchen, while the rest of the girls straightened the quarters in which they had slept. The gesture delighted the kindly old lady. Reminded her of the old days, she said, when she had been one of the cooks at the camp, and the girls had always been running around underfoot.

Every time Peggy thought of Kirby, she sizzled like a fuse. Why, that egocentric, selfish, assuming lout! A good thing he had chosen to stay out of sight this morning.

The girls returned by a route much different from the one by which they had come. This cut through the woods via an old trail paralleling the stream near which they had intended to sleep. At one point, the stream widened into a deep pothole carved into the rock by centuries of rushing water.

Here the girls paused for a swim. Suits were unnecessary. Naked as plucked birds, the squealing youngsters frolicked in the jewel-bright water until its icy temperature drove them out. They dried themselves and dressed, then kindled a fire and roasted frankfurters for lunch.

Not long afterward the skies began to cloud up again. All activities and games were called off as thunderclouds gathered overhead. The girls marched for home under forced draft.

At camp much earlier than was usual for returning hikers, everyone cleaned up, then rushed to the lodge. There Pam was organizing indoor games because of the threatening storm. She told Peggy and Lilian that Beth would drive one of them to pick up the bedrolls. “I can’t spare more than one of you,” Pam said. “Practically all of the hikers are back already.” Glancing at the approaching nurse, Lilian declined, saying she would prefer to occupy a few kids with a dancing lesson.

Happily, Peggy walked off with Beth.

The first raindrops were falling.

NINE

The expected storm had turned out to be merely a shower. Some lightning. Mild thunder. A patter of rain that had come and gone within fifteen minutes.

Beth backed the station wagon as close as possible to the clearing near the stream. While she opened the back door, Peggy began untying the tarpaulins protecting the bedding.

“Isn’t it wonderful out here after a rain?” Peggy said, stopping her work when Beth joined her.

“It’s as if God has washed the earth.”

“I never thought of it that way,” Peggy said. “But it’s so true.” She gazed around delightedly. “I wish we didn’t have to hurry back.”

“Well, let’s get these things loaded. Then maybe we can find a dry spot of grass where we can sit and enjoy a few minutes.”

One by one the bedrolls were piled in the wagon, Peggy doing most of the lifting, Beth most of the arranging.

When she had handed Beth the last one, Peggy strolled down to the stream. She stood watching the rushing water from a wooden foot bridge.

“Peaceful, isn’t it?” Beth commented, joining Peggy.

Peggy nodded, and followed the nurse across the bridge. A massive ledge of rock protruded from the slope, jutting over the stream. Under it ran a dry, grassy stretch. Beth headed toward it, motioned Peggy to sit down with her.

Peggy stared into the turbulent water. “Sometimes I feel just like that inside,” she said.

“Now?”

“Oh, not now. Not out here. It’s funny, but as wild as that water is, it makes me feel—well, kind of calm.” She looked at Beth. “Do you know what I mean?”

Instead of replying directly, Beth said, “Peggy, what’s bothering you?”

Peggy caught her breath, surprised. The nurse’s soft gaze was searching her.

“Nothing is bothering me. Really.”

Beth smiled knowingly. A hand reached out to rest on Peggy’s bare arm. “You’re growing up, Peggy. That in itself is a great source of mental anguish. But some day it will all seem trivial, believe me.”

“You really think so?”

“I know so.” Beth sighed. “Try not to be so solemn.”

Peggy bravely attempted a smile. But what was trivial about wanting to know whether you were a lesbian or not? Since that idiotic Kirby had kissed her, the issue had become more acute than ever in Peggy’s mind.

She may have had good reason to reject his advances, but would a normal girl, feeling the passionate response Peggy had felt, so precipitately shun it—good reason or not? The only deep physical satisfaction Peggy could remember was that achieved at the hands of some unknown woman in the night.

And was it trivial to want to know the identity of that woman—as well as the one who had forced herself upon Beth in the bathhouse? Was it trivial to stand helplessly by, aware that innocent children at a camp were in the hands of—God!—lesbians?

The word itself, as usual, was enough to chill Peggy’s blood. Maybe that was why, unexpectedly, it rose to her lips.

“Beth,” she blurted, “do you know many lesbians?”

Peggy was sorry the second she had said it. Aghast at her own temerity, she covered her open mouth with her palm. Probably she had ruined everything, she thought, waiting for an explosion from Beth.

But Beth’s expression had not altered. “What makes you think I know any at all?”

Peggy hesitated. If she spoke now, she would never be able to recall the words. Yet what choice did she have? There were things, trivial and otherwise, that she had to find out.

She said, “Beth, I’m positive you know at least one lesbian.”

“What!”

“I heard you with her in the bathhouse,” Peggy said. “The night you were arguing about me.”

Beth jumped to her feet, face flaming. “So that’s what’s been bothering you all this time.”

Peggy nodded. “One of the things.”

“Oh, you poor dear. I’m sorry for making light of your problems.” Beth’s facial color was back to normal. “She hasn’t tried anything, has she—made a pass or approached you in any way?”

Peggy could not look at Beth. “Yes—yes, she has.” Peggy told of the night she had spent in the Pillbox, of the unknown intruder who had invaded her bed and her dreams.

“And you enjoyed it?” Beth asked.

“Oh, yes! Beth, who was it? You?”

“Don’t be a fool. It must have been.... You know, the one in the bathhouse with me. That’s what she was trying to get me to do—slip you some drug so she could....”

“Who?” Peggy broke in. “Please tell me who.”

“Peggy, I wish I could. But I—I just can’t. If I speak that name, all of us will be destroyed.”

“Is it Mike? It must be. It’s Mike, isn’t it? It can’t be Pam or Lilian or anybody like that. Dorothy and Ruth have a crush on each other—surely neither would be interested in me. So it has to be Mike. Mike made a play for me. She—”

“Watch your mouth! Lots of girls get crushes on each other, but that doesn’t make them gay.”

“Gay? What’s gay?”

“Oh, skip it. Peggy, I simply can’t mention names. I refuse to discuss Mike or anybody else.” Beth gazed down at Peggy, huddled at her feet. Suddenly the nurse kneeled, lifted the girl’s chin with a finger, forcing Peggy to look at her. In a kindlier tone, she said, “You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’ve been afraid all this time.”

Beth’s voice was calm now, natural, not insinuating. “You’re afraid of this girl who violated you—and you’re afraid of yourself.”

Peggy’s eyes flashed to the nurse.

“You’re afraid that you liked it too much,” Beth said.

“Yes!” In that instant a tumult of confusion rushed over Peggy. She wanted to throw herself into those compassionate arms and cry on the golden shoulder as she had not done since she was a child; she wanted to unburden herself as never before. “Beth, whether I’m afraid or not, I’ve got to know. I’ve got to discover what I am.”

“You’re a nice, perfectly healthy girl. You have nothing to worry about.” The nurse edged nearer. One hand fell to Peggy’s arm. “All right, so you had an episode with a woman. But it meant nothing. Happens every day. Often young girls like you come into bodily contact with other girls, feel some sort of physical sensation, and immediately begin to have doubts about themselves. They are afraid of their reactions—and ashamed—but that doesn’t make them one of my kind—”

“Your kind?”

“That’s right. I’m a genuine lesbian, truly twisted, and I know it.”

“But what if I am, too?” Peggy said, thinking of her aversion to the male sex. “How am I to find out?”

For an instant she was sure she saw a different expression in Beth’s eyes. The kind of expression Ted used to get when Peggy would pull away from him in order to take off her clothes.

But Beth had control of herself again. She smiled, and tried to answer Peggy’s question. “You’ll find out in time. Try not to let it bother you now. You’re much too young to become enmeshed in this sort of thing—no matter what you are.”

“Beth, I’ve got to know.” And with more resolution than she would have thought possible, Peggy said, “I want you to kiss me.”

The nurse looked away. “No.”

Peggy scrambled to her knees. “Please, Beth,” she pleaded. “You mean so much to me. Help me.”

“Peggy, I—”

Peggy lifted her face. “Please.” She moved a little closer. Her mouth was almost touching Beth’s.

With a cry that was like a sob, Beth clutched Peggy to her. Beth’s lips, soft and warm, touched Peggy’s.

At last they broke away. Peggy’s heart was pounding. Fever seemed to have possessed her blood. Strange hot prickles assailed her nerves. She looked at Beth—soft and warm and alluring. The nurse was not in uniform now, but in blue stretch slacks donned against the rain and damp. Her womanly hips were faithfully outlined. Her breasts strained against the blue of the button-down man’s oxford shirt she wore. Her hair fell in soft waves to her shoulders. How beautiful, thought Peggy. How utterly beautiful. She put an arm around the nurse’s waist.

“Oh, Beth—”

“No, Peggy. No more.” She started to rise, but the younger girl, stronger, held her down.

Peggy said once again, “I have to know.”

“You don’t make love to find something out, Peggy.”

The girl tossed her head, yellow ponytail flicking like a banner. “I’m not attractive to you? You don’t want me?”

“Want has little to do with it.”

Peggy forced Beth’s hand to touch her full young breast. “Tell me you want me.”

“Don’t do this to us,” Beth begged. “Don’t do it to yourself.”

“I have to know,” Peggy insisted.

“God help us,” moaned Beth. Her arms went around Peggy.

The two fell back upon the soft, damp grass, their eager lips clinging. For the first time Peggy knew the sensation of another woman’s tongue darting and circling against her own. So acute was the thrill that her bones seemed to turn to water.

Then Beth came up for air. Pulling away, she slowly opened Peggy’s simple camp blouse. Loosening the bra, she exclaimed with delight as Peggy’s breasts tumbled forth. At first Beth was gentle as she kissed and fondled the trembling, youthful bosom. Peggy’s heart jumped as the woman’s lips touched each rosy nipple, hands stroking all the while, searching sweetly, trailing fire from the fingertips.

For a while Peggy lay still, basking in every touch, every tender kiss, every deliberately inciting stroke. But as Beth’s hands and lips roamed, Peggy began to writhe on the ground. She burrowed closer to the older woman, sent her hand up under the oxford shirt. When her hand touched the soft roundness of Beth’s quivering breasts, a glorious burst of white-hot bliss lashed Peggy’s body. With reckless lust she loosened Beth’s slacks, touched the nylon beneath. At the same time she felt Beth’s clever fingers at her shorts. The fingers cunningly slid and stroked. “Oh, sweet Beth,” groaned Peggy.

No longer could she concentrate on every touch and kiss. Her whole being seemed engulfed by wave upon wave of fiery pleasure. Then, in a burst of purest ecstasy, she crested. The whole world seemed to explode inside of her. Slowly Peggy drifted down to earth. For long minutes she lay quietly, her head on Beth’s lap, a hand still on Beth’s bare breast.

A sense of utter peace, of profoundest fulfillment, possessed Peggy.

“We’d better pull ourselves together,” Beth said softly. “We have to be on our way. They’ll be wondering what happened to us.”

Peggy sat up, buttoned her blouse, then followed Beth across the bridge. In the station wagon, they both repaired faces and hair.

As the car rolled onto the road, Peggy slouched against the door, wishing she could cuddle against Beth.

Neither spoke during the ride back to camp. Skillfully Beth swung into the parking lot, cut the motor. She turned toward Peggy and was about to say something when she saw Miss Duncan approaching.

The older woman told them that the most recent weather forecast had reported an end to local thunder showers. The staff had decided to chance a swimming session so the hikers could rinse off some sweat.

“You join them, Peggy. I think you deserve a refresher. We can take care of these things later.”

Peggy thanked the director, then sat unmoving, hoping for a chance to be alone with Beth. But one glance at Miss Duncan told her that she was excused.

To Beth, she murmured, “See you later.” Then Peggy left the two women.

TEN

Life took on a whole new color for Peggy. During the following twenty-four hours, her mind was filled with visions of Beth—sweet, kind Beth, lovely Beth with her fragrant brown hair and dark-blue eyes and gentle hands. No longer did she fear or reject lesbian love. How could anything so good, Peggy argued, not be right? At least for Beth and herself.

Now that she was not obsessed with doubts about herself and about the lesbian existence, she was free to enjoy all the more her wonderful relationship with Beth. The prospect intoxicated Peggy. She did not weigh consequences.

She looked forward with deep excitement to their next meeting but forced herself to avoid the nurse still one more day. She did not want to become a pest or presume on Beth. But by noon, Peggy knew she could no longer contain herself.

She was standing at her table while the campers filed in for lunch. A cool breeze blew into the screened lodge porch. Peggy took a deep breath of pine-scented air, flavored by aromas rising from tureens of hearty soup in place on each table.

Peggy went through her serving duties mechanically, filling plates, passing them down the line, saying, “You have to eat at least three spoonsful,” when the girls objected to the vegetable. She answered questions automatically, and somehow got through the main course. Then dessert was brought out. The jello and cookies lasted longer than she thought they should but it was mail call afterward that seemed unbearable.

And then a song or two....

At last, it was over, the whole ordeal. Beth, thought Peggy. Beth....

The girls scrambled from their seats, running every which way. Most of the counselors drifted toward the lounge for a quick smoke before rest period. Peggy started quietly toward the door, but was stopped by a voice calling her name.

“Phone for you,” a junior counselor yelled.

With a sigh of distaste, Peggy followed the girl, sure it would be Ted on the line.

Gingerly, she picked up the receiver.

“Hi, Peggy. This is Kirby. How are you doing?”

Peggy was stunned into silence. What colossal brass!

“I want to apologize for the other night,” he said. “I mean—well, I guess I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m sorry.”

Peggy’s mind darted back to the quick kiss, the slap. “Oh,” she said nonchalantly, “I had forgotten all about it.” Which was no lie, she thought.

“Is that a compliment or a slam?”

“Just a remark.”

“Meant to put me in my place, I presume.” He seemed hesitant to continue. “Uh—there was one other thing,” he said. “I was wondering if you would reconsider getting together some time.”

“I told you the other night, Kirby—”

“I know what you told me the other night. I just hoped maybe you would have a change of heart.”

“No. In fact, I’m more certain now than before,” she said, thinking of Beth.

“Is it me personally you object to?” he asked.

Again Peggy was taken aback by his brass. “You’ve got a nerve! Of course it’s you personally. That was a hell of a thing to do—grabbing me, kissing me—”

“Peggy, we hardly know each other, but please listen,” he said. “I never saw a girl so attractive as you. You’re the most beautiful thing alive. Sure I lost my head—what guy wouldn’t? I’m not sorry, if you want to know the truth. I’ll carry that kiss for the rest of my life. I would have risked a hell of a lot more than a slap for it—”

Peggy could not help being a bit moved. “Look, Kirby,” she said in a less chilly tone, “I’ve got to run now. I don’t want to go out with you, so let’s just drop it, okay?”

“I’d better warn you—I don’t give up easily.”

“And I don’t give in easily,” she retorted.

Peggy hung up, amused and a little touched by his compliments and his ardent wooing. However, when she glanced at her watch she cursed him under her breath.

Kirby’s phone call had deprived her of a chance to see Beth. This put a damper on Peggy’s high spirits. She sulked through the rest period but afterward, on the basketball court, as the minutes slipped by, her anticipation began to mount once more. At last the whistle blew, signaling the end of the period.

Peggy bounded from the court. Quickly she changed into a fresh outfit.

She brushed her hair while her young cabin mates, most of them already in swim suits, dawdled away the last few minutes before swim period.

“Miss Peggy, aren’t you coming with us?”

“I don’t have waterfront duty today,” Peggy answered brightly.

Another girl said, “You look so pretty!”

Peggy glowed inwardly. “Thanks, honey,” she said, inspecting herself in the mirror. A mint-green blouse topped rich brown bermudas that were cinched at the waist by a wide dark belt. A green band held her corn-blond hair away from her face.

Peggy fluffed the blondness and left the cabin, calling, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She sauntered downhill, past the lodge and into the Pillbox. There she slouched in the clinic’s one large chair while Beth finished with her patients.

The nurse was carefully inspecting a little girl’s foot. At last she straightened and said, “I guess you can go swimming today. But keep putting the salve on before you go to bed.” She walked to her desk, scribbled something on a piece of paper and said, “Give this to Miss Mike. Then go up and change into your suit.”

The girl was radiant as she bounced off the stool. She took the note from Beth. “Thank you,” she said. “Thanks, Miss Beth.”

“And make sure to dry your feet,” Beth called, as the child ran out the door.

Beth turned back to her desk, glanced at some papers, then up at Peggy. She smiled brightly. “Hi. What brings you—business or pleasure?”

“Strictly a social call,” Peggy told her.

“Well, step into my social department, said the spider to the fly.” She led the way into her room. “Have a seat. I want to get into my suit.”

“Are you going swimming?”

“I thought I’d soak up some sun.”

Peggy’s face fell.

“Is anything wrong? Did you have something you wanted to talk about?”

“No. I—I just wanted to see you.”

Beth stood planted in the middle of the room, watching Peggy. “Does this have anything to do with that business the other day?”

“That business!” flared Peggy. “Is that all it meant to you?”

“Listen, Peggy—” The nurse walked over to where the girl was sitting. “I’m sorry about that. I was hoping you had already forgotten it.”

“Forgotten?” Peggy was incredulous. “How could I forget it, ever? Why, since it happened, all I’ve been thinking about is the next time. I could hardly sleep last night. I—”

“There’s not going to be a next time, Peggy.” Beth spoke slowly, deliberately. Her voice was calm, her tone low.

Peggy sat with her mouth open. “What did you say?” she asked finally.

“I said there is not going to be a next time.”

“But why not?” Peggy cried despairingly.

Beth lowered herself to the arm of Peggy’s chair. Her eyes rested on Peggy’s tortured face. She took the girl’s trembling hand in her own. “Peggy,” she said carefully, trying hard to choose the right words, “Peggy, you mean too much to me—I can’t let you lead a twisted, miserable life. And lesbians are miserable.”

“Then why—”

Beth put her finger to the girl’s lips. “No questions. If I knew all the answers, maybe I wouldn’t have given in to you. Just because I did, and you found kicks in it, doesn’t mean you’re abnormal. It was a new experience for you, that’s all. The fun would wear off with the novelty. And I’m certain that some day you’ll find a man who can do as well for you, and probably a lot better.”

Peggy glared at the nurse. “How can you say that? I dug it to the limit, Beth. Every minute of it. You know that. I remember everything you did. I—”

“Liking it doesn’t make it right, Peggy.”

Something burst inside of Peggy. “Right or not,” she exploded, “you like it, too! Don’t deny it, Beth. I may be a kid, but I know you want me as much as I want you, and maybe more. Do you think I’m blind to the way you’re always watching me? Your eyes are on me all the time—in the lounge, at the lake, here. Every time I glanced up, you used to be looking at me. At first I didn’t realize why, but now I know. And right this minute—even if you won’t admit it—your eyes tell me that you’re hungry for me, crazy to have me. Why fight it?”

Beth’s stony gaze met her. “You’d better leave, Peggy.”

Peggy’s spirit wilted. Her idol was displeased with her. “I’m sorry, Beth.” Her voice was barely audible. “I didn’t mean to offend you. It’s just—” she hesitated—“I want you so much, Beth. I want to do all those things again ... look at you, touch you, kiss you.” She seized Beth’s hand. “Please, Beth,” she begged. “Let me.”

Pulling away her hand, Beth snapped, “Just leave.”

“Don’t be angry,” Peggy pleaded.

“You know, you can’t make a habit of coming over here every free minute you have. People may begin to get ideas.”

Everything strong and hard within Peggy seemed to melt. She felt her insides slouching. She started for the door, but paused and over her shoulder threw a pleading glance at Beth.

The nurse was watching her.

Peggy turned. “I’m sorry, Beth. I didn’t want to make you angry. I don’t know what got into me. Our love was so wonderful—I’ve never felt like that before—I couldn’t get it out of my mind. I’ve been thinking about you every minute. I couldn’t wait to be with you.”

Beth unbent a little. She took a couple of steps toward Peggy.

“I need you,” Peggy whispered. “Really need you.”

“Hush.” Beth patted the girl’s cheek. “I know how you feel, Peggy. I’ll always be here. I’m your friend. Come back in a day or two, after you’ve cooled off. You will, you know. It’s all in your mind. Ninety percent of all sexual desire is in the mind,” she finished.

Beth kissed her on the forehead.

Peggy walked out, her shoulders slumping.

ELEVEN

Peggy wrestled with her conscience for the next couple of days, longing all the while for Beth’s company, yet conceding it would be best not to court temptation by returning to the nurse’s quarters. She wavered between periods of extreme moodiness during which she was ashamed of the commotion she had caused, and long hours of utter bliss because, in the end, Beth had said that she would always be there, that she was Peggy’s friend.

Peggy spoke casually on occasion to both Mike and Lilian, but only in connection with their work. Even in the counselors’ lounge, Peggy indulged in only enough conversation to preserve the amenities.

Then Kirby Davis telephoned.

Peggy was sitting in the lounge after free swim. She went to the phone reluctantly, heard Kirby plead again for a date, and again refused him.

“Don’t you think you’ll ever give in?” he asked.

“Look, Kirby—”

“You don’t have to hang up already, do you?”

“No,” she said. “I’m not busy at the moment. I don’t have to hang up.”

“Good. You know, what I’d like to do is take you for a nice long walk among the open fields.”

“I get my share of walking. Hikes every week.”

“But they’re not at all the same. To begin with, hikes are part of your job. In the second place, walking on dirt roads or through woods can’t compare with tramping over open fields and nice soft grass.”

“And where would you find open fields to roam around in? Most of them are planted with corn, or have cows all over them.”

“When you get curious enough, let me know.”

“I’ll do that.”

They talked a few minutes longer, Peggy keeping an eye on the clock.

Finally, when she told him her time was up, Kirby said: “Maybe I shouldn’t mention it, but I made some progress—at least you talked to me a while.”

Peggy could not help smiling.

She thought about Kirby’s call again that evening after she had left the throng at the lodge. You couldn’t fault a guy for trying, she thought, as she strolled the camp grounds, savoring the quiet.

At the bottom of the hill, Peggy turned, her eyes raised to the mammoth lodge, looming dark and somber except for the yellow light bursting through all the windows. Snatches of song and of laughter came rolling down the hillside. Peggy smiled inwardly, thinking of the youngsters in the big building, each one absorbed in the night’s activities, her little mind filled with nothing else.

Suddenly a wave of loneliness surged through her poignantly. She turned toward the lake, a limitless pool of ink bathed in white moonlight.

Walking along the lake fence, kicking at an occasional stone, Peggy thought again of Kirby, of their telephone conversation that day. She wondered why she would not date him. Was she so far gone that a man could not appeal to her at all? Were her feelings, all of them, wholly directed elsewhere? Raising her eyes from the ground, she saw her answer. Standing at the gate was a womanly figure in white.

Peggy’s heart hammered.

The nurse turned. “Hello, there,” she called, glimpsing Peggy but uncertain of her identity.

Peggy moved closer, her loneliness replaced by wild excitement.

“Peggy!” the nurse exclaimed, recognizing the girl. “How are you? Want to walk along the shore?” she asked, unlatching the gate.

Peggy passed through, brushing against Beth’s arm. The touch sent an electric current charging through the girl. Beth seemed not to notice.

“I’ve been expecting you at the Pillbox,” she said.

Chills crawled up Peggy’s spine. But inside her, heat was gathering.

They stood at the edge of the water, where wavelets washed upon the sand, darkening it, then rolling back again.

“I’ve missed our talks,” Beth said, her eyes following the broad path of the moon upon the lake.

Peggy kicked at a pebble. It rolled into the water noiselessly.

The night air was warm and humid. There was no breeze. All was still save for the lapping of the water; leaves did not rustle, no laughter floated from the lodge any more, even the crickets were not singing.

Peggy fought down the turmoil in her mind. She did not think; she waited.

Beth sauntered along the beach. She stopped when she reached the dock, turned, waited for Peggy.

Peggy joined her. “Let’s talk, shall we?” Beth said, her voice cool in the hot night, cool as a breeze.

Peggy nodded dumbly. They sat down on the foot of the dock, a girl and a woman silhouetted against the moon-glow.

Peggy pulled off her shoes, dangled her feet in the wavelets.

“I regret that I had to be so short with you the other night,” Beth said. “But the way you were carrying on was unbearable. It wasn’t like you at all.” Beth paused. “I realize,” she said, “that you’re under a tremendous strain, Peggy, and I know I’ve had a part in causing it.”

Peggy dragged a toe through the water, concentrating on the ripples it left.

“Do we have to discuss it, Beth?”

“I think we should, don’t you?”

Peggy shrugged.

“Peggy, your age is a trying one for most girls. But you’ve been exposed to more than the run-of-the-mill problems. You’re riding the horns of a most serious dilemma.” As Beth spoke, the moon hid behind a cloud.

In the thickened dark, Peggy began to swing her legs, feet splashing lightly.

“I can sympathize with you probably better than anyone else you know,” Beth said sadly. “I want to help you, Peggy. I—”

Peggy jumped erect on the dock. “I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t want your help—or your pity or anything else....” She grabbed her shoes. “Just leave me alone,” she sobbed, hurrying away.

“Peggy!” The nurse scrambled to her feet. “Peggy, wait a minute.”

As Beth tore after her, Peggy broke into a run. She was rounding the far end of the bathhouse, planning on a cut through the woods to the seclusion of her cabin.

The sand was cool and damp on her bare feet. She stopped crying, took a deep breath, clutched her shoes to her chest and sprinted across the beach. She could hear Beth running across the wooden planks of the bathhouse float, taking a short cut in hopes of catching up.

Peggy stumbled, dropped a shoe. She backtracked, picked it up, started on her way. Beth, right behind her now, caught her by the arm, knocking her off balance. Peggy sprawled on the ground.

“I wasn’t finished,” Beth said breathlessly.

Peggy sat up. She glanced at the nurse, then away. She contemplated the beach in front of her. The moon emerged from the masking cloud, rendering the sand a silvery gray.

“Don’t you see?” Beth asked, dropping down next to Peggy. “It won’t do you any good to run away. Face things squarely. Get yourself under control.”

Peggy said sullenly, “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, that’s all.” She pulled on her shoes. “You said it’s partly your fault. Well, it’s not Beth. You can’t help the way I am, any more than you can help the way you are. It’s not your fault at all. Besides, you’ve done me a lot of good. Really, you have.” She was looking at the nurse now, talking to her rather than some spot on the ground. “You were doing lots of good even before—before anything happened between us, before I told you I heard you that night down here. Just being with you has always made me feel better.”

Beth waited until she was certain Peggy had finished. “I understand,” she said. “And I’m glad. But now that I know what’s bugging you, I can do you even more good. I can open your eyes to what lesbianism is, Peggy. It’s not a game, or a habit you fall into or out of at will. A lesbian is something you are—or aren’t. If—”

“How do you know I’m not?” Peggy demanded.

Beth’s gaze did not waver. “How do you know you are?”

“Because I’ve had a taste of being one. Because I want it more than I want love with boys.”

“Peggy, try to understand. You were here, one day, at a strange place, with strange people—strange girls. You learned another girl wanted to seduce you. You were terrified by the prospect, but at the same time excited. After that, a row with your boy friend. Tensions mounted. And then—” Beth hesitated—“then you found out what it is like to make love with another woman. That served as both an emotional and a physical release, and a powerful one. So you decided you were a lesbian.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not. I only know that a few minutes ago, when I saw you, I was bursting with want of you. I wanted you to kiss me, thrill me—and instead, you pitied me.” Peggy paused. “Beth, you said yourself I’d find out eventually whether I were a true lesbian. So what difference does it make if I find out here, now, this summer with you—or if I wait till next year or some other time?”

Beth looked at the girl steadily. “Because if you wait only six months, that will be six months’ less torment for you.”

Peggy frowned. “Is it really that bad?”

Beth nodded emphatically in the moon’s platinum glare.

“What I can’t understand,” Peggy said, “is your concern. Someone must have initiated you, and I’m sure you don’t hate her.”

“It’s not that I’m worried about your hating me some day, Peggy.”

“Yet it means something to you that I don’t succumb.”

“Of course it means something.”

“But why?” Peggy demanded. “Why should you care? You enjoyed our sex together as much as I did. You must still want me. And you certainly know I want you. So why can’t we please each other? Why can’t we act the way we want to when we’re alone? What difference does it make, as long as we both know what we’re doing—as long as we both want to? Why should you care what I am, what I become, if we can be happy together even for a little time? Why should it bother you if I become a confirmed lesbian because of this summer?” Peggy gazed up into the nurse’s eyes. “Why, Beth?”

“Because I love you.”

TWELVE

Beth sucked in her breath, completely startled by her own words. Obviously, she had not meant to go so far.

Her eyes locked with Peggy’s. Then the nurse recovered herself and broke the trance.

Forcing a smile, she said, “Yes. I mean in my own peculiar way, I feel affection for you. A kind of motherly love, you might call it. A protective instinct.”

“You’re not old enough to be my mother,” Peggy said quietly.

“Well, I sort of feel that way toward all the girls at camp. I love them all—you know?”

Peggy shifted position so her body was closer to the nurse’s. “Beth, you don’t have to hide it. Don’t you know that I love you, too?”

Peggy had not considered it before, but now she was certain of her feelings for this woman who had befriended her, stood up for her, guided her in a strange, new kind of consummation.

Before coming to this camp, never in her wildest imaginings would Peggy have conceived of two women making declarations of love to each other. Yet it did not now strike her in the least strange that Beth and she were speaking to each other as if one of them were of the opposite sex. The only thing strange, as far as Peggy was concerned, was that she had not realized before that she was truly, gloriously, irrevocably in love with Beth.

Yes—she was wholly certain of her feelings for this woman who had befriended her, defended her, and guided her to the most profound physical fulfillment.

“Oh, I do love you,” Peggy swore. “I need you. Why can’t we make each other happy? Why must we fight ourselves? Why can’t I touch you—” Peggy’s hand reached out, her fingers trailing over Beth’s cheek—“feel how soft and delightful you are, whenever I want to? That’s not wrong, is it, Beth—to want someone, want to touch her? It’s not wrong when you love somebody, is it?”

Beth brushed a wisp of hair from Peggy’s face. “No, Peggy, it’s not wrong. But we must be sensible and draw the line. There’s no reason we can’t see each other often, have our usual talks, go—”