Chapter V: Part 5

“Everything but make love, right? Well, I’m sorry, Beth. Sex is a part of love. Everyone knows that. I can’t be with you and not want you—and I won’t fight it any more. So make up your mind. Either we must part entirely—or you must be mine entirely.” Peggy rose.

Beth reached out, pulled the girl down. “Why do we always have to argue?”

“We don’t have to.” There were tears in Peggy’s eyes.

“Peggy—” It was barely a whisper.

In the silence that followed, the two hearts were pounding as one. Bathed in moonlight, the women stared hotly. Then the air stirred. The gentle breeze seemed to be all that was needed to move them together. Their lips met.

With that kiss, the floodgates burst open. The pent-up passions of the young counselor and the mature nurse emerged in a hot, rushing tide that flooded them both. Tensions were washed away. Fears and hesitations were drowned by surging lust.

Yet both knew that this was not the time or the place. They might be seen. They might be overheard.

As if the thought had struck the two simultaneously, they drew apart sharply. Beth threw a cautious glance over her shoulder. Peggy’s eyes warily searched the shadows on every side. Reassured, they turned back to each other, smiling fondly, tenderly.

“No more arguments?”

“No more arguments,” Beth promised. “I may as well enjoy you while I can.”

Peggy sat up straight. “I wish you wouldn’t talk like that.”

“Why not? I think of you as a butterfly—liable to take wing at any moment. Young people do tend to be flighty.”

“But this is different. We love each other!”

Beth laughed. “Don’t start that again, or I’ll be ravishing you right here on the beach. You’re a terribly tempting little hussy, you know.”

“Your hussy.”

Beth rose reluctantly. “I think we’d better get back,” she said.

Peggy nodded, slipped on her shoes.

Together they left the lake, careful to latch the gate behind them.

Halfway up the flagstoned path that led to the lodge, Beth said, “I think I’ll stop at the Pillbox a minute. I’ll be in the lounge later. If we run into each other there, be careful. Let’s not act particularly interested in each other.”

The pair halted. In the ghostly lunar glow, their eyes met and held. Beth’s look was a caress, Peggy’s an embrace. It was their only farewell.

Peggy watched until the figure in white disappeared into the night, then continued on toward the lodge. Strange, she mused. Her body no longer ached with passion. The flood of desire had waned. Instead, she felt satisfaction, content, a welling of affection and tenderness.

A joyful shout ahead of her broke into Peggy’s thoughts. Pushing the past minutes with Beth into a secret place in her heart, she hurried up the lodge steps. She collected her kids, herded them to the cabin and into bed. She decided to stretch out on her cot in the dark, and think over the events of the day.

She was asleep before her campers were.

* * * * *

The following day passed swiftly, but too slowly for Peggy. After dinner she was making her way up the lodge steps once more, when she was stopped by Ruth, the petite blonde.

Involuntarily, Peggy looked around for Dorothy. This time, the tall riding mistress was not in evidence.

“Say, Peggy,” said Ruth, “my girls are planning a masquerade ball for their program night, and we wondered if your cabin would like to help out.”

Peggy considered. “We haven’t decided on anything for our night yet, and that sounds like fun. I’ll ask them.”

“Good. Let me know as soon as you can.”

“Will do,” Peggy promised, continuing on her way.

That evening’s activity was being organized on the basketball court, leaving the lodge quiet and desolate. The silence permeating the big structure seemed to jar more profoundly than noise ever had. Peggy’s footfalls echoed hollowly as she walked into the lounge, a book and writing tablet under her arm. She wondered if she were the only one in the building.

It was not yet dark, but a stillness had settled over the grounds, broken only by cricket calls.

Peggy sat down at the conference table and contemplated the paper in front of her. Then she jotted a quick note to her parents, telling them all was well.

Finished, she folded the letter, stuffed it into an envelope which she addressed and stamped, then gathered her belongings and left.

It should be time, she thought. It was too late for any more kids to visit the infirmary, unless some emergency developed. She fervently hoped there were no patients staying overnight.

At the door of the Pillbox, she rapped soundly and called, “Anybody home?”

Beth came to greet her, bright and even more cheerful than usual. “For you, always,” she said, pushing open the screen door. “But aren’t you supposed to be other places?”

“It’s my night off,” Peggy answered, walking toward Beth’s room. “Those of my colleagues who are unassigned, like me, are driving in to a movie that I’ve already seen. I told them I was going to stay behind to do some letter-writing and catch up on my reading.”

She lowered herself into one of the chairs, dropping her book and pad to the floor.

“So why aren’t you?”

“Writing and reading? Because I’d rather be with you.”

“I’m flattered.” Beth curled up in the other large chair, asked, “What are you reading?”

“A book of short stories. I just finished that famous one by Somerset Maugham about a missionary and a prostitute. He—”

“I saw the movie they made from it,” Beth said. “It just proves how weak the flesh is.”

Peggy glanced away. “How weak men are, you mean.” She was suddenly compelled to tell Beth about Kirby Davis, about the time the big goof had had the effrontery to kiss her. But no sooner had she mentioned Kirby’s name than Beth interrupted.

“Oh, you mean Lelia’s nephew. I know him. He comes around every summer. A nice boy.”

“Nice?” Peggy laughingly told of the stolen kiss and mentioned his attempts to wheedle her into going out with him.

Beth said, “I think you should.”

Peggy stopped laughing. “Should what? Go out with him?”

“You should make it a point to meet people.”

There was a pause.

“Especially fellows, you mean,” Peggy said.

“Not necessarily. Just people who can broaden your outlook, widen your horizons. People can be an education, you know.”

“Hm. You’re right,” Peggy said, rising. “Take, for example, what I’ve learned from you.” She perched on the arm of Beth’s chair.

“Be serious,” Beth said, her breath coming a little faster.

“But I am.” Peggy bent to kiss the nurse on the mouth. When she pulled away, she looked at Beth with wide eyes. “Serious enough?”

“Too serious,” Beth answered tensely.

“That’s just a taste. Go over there,” she said, waving toward the bed, “and I’ll show you how really serious I can be.” Beth hesitated, not smiling now. “Come on,” Peggy said, taking the nurse by the hand. “No more arguments, remember?”

She pulled the nurse to her feet, drew her to the covered bed.

They fell to the bed together. “Undress me,” Peggy begged. “Take my clothes off and kiss me.”

Beth yielded, eagerly peeled off the sweatshirt Peggy wore. There was no bra under the baggy garment. Peggy’s girlish yet copiously developed breasts, vibrant with life, crowned by pink, virginal nipples, drew an agonized cry from the nurse. She buried her face in the soft, lovely mounds. “Oh, Peggy, my darling,” Beth whispered against the delicate flesh.

At the touch of Beth’s cheek upon her bosom, Peggy felt heat leap in her veins. Then Beth’s hands were drawing off Peggy’s slacks, at the same time fondling the girl’s lithe thighs, the long legs so adorably molded and curved.

Peggy’s impatience gathered. She sat up, seized Beth by the hips, kissed her on the lips with ferocious hunger. Why, the woman drove her wild! Now it was she, in her turn, who tore at clothing. She pulled off Beth’s shoes, drew down her white stockings. She loosened the white uniform at the sides, jerked it from Beth’s body. The nurse stretched out on the bed, a fine figure of a woman, clad only in pale bra from which spilled rich creamy mounds, and in silky white briefs that clung to her milky thighs, her rounded and velvety hips. Even these garments annoyed Peggy. She fussed with them until they were off. Beth lay unclad at last—breathtakingly seductive, her voluptuous charms wholly revealed, wholly accessible.

“Beth?”

“Yes, honey.”

“Which am I, the aggressive partner, or the passive?”

Beth laughed. “Where did you hear of such things?”

“Read about ’em in a book, once,” Peggy said.

“Well, don’t you know which you are?”

“Guess I’m both,” Peggy confided mischievously, blushing.

“Little minx. In that case—let’s take turns. You make love to me—then, well, I’ll do the honors.”

Peggy joyously threw herself into the nurse’s arms. But passion was so strong upon her that she quickly withdrew her mouth from Beth’s, filled her hands with Beth’s heavy, delicately textured bosom. In her palms Peggy felt the nipples, in rosy glory, swell and stir. Beth squirmed with delight. Peggy boldly probed lower. Her fingers, with a timeless knowledge of their own, seemed to home unerringly on the unutterably secret nerve clusters that bestowed on Beth the sharpest bliss.

The effect was to evoke in Peggy a feeling of power, of mastery. She controlled Beth. Beth was her slave. She pushed buttons, and Beth danced. Lust came down on Peggy like a red cloud, and in her new wild power, she viciously pinched Beth’s soft thigh. “Oh!” groaned Beth. Peggy gritted her teeth and with one heave turned Beth over on the bed. She sent a stinging slap to Beth’s quaking buttocks. “Oh!” gasped Beth. “Please. Please, Peggy?”

“You pretty bitch. Tell me you love me. Tell me, or—”

“No! Don’t hit me again. I love you, Peggy. I love you.”

Peggy thrust her forearms under Beth’s armpits, cupped the big breasts. She wrestled the nurse into a supine position, then threw herself upon her.

Wildly, the girls locked to each other. Their bodies were gleaming now with sweat. Lip to lip, breast to breast, thigh to slippery thigh, they heaved and gyrated, ecstasy rising like a lava wave. Eyes rolled, fingers clutched, light hair mingled with darker. Skin slithered slickly and long legs kicked. Murmuring blissful endearments, panting like beasts, the counselor and the nurse felt the white-hot wave engulf them, drown them in fiery exaltation while their very guts shook and convulsed.

“God!” intoned Peggy, limply falling back on the bed.

“Leave God out of it,” whispered Beth. “This is devil’s work, pure and simple.”

“Pure and simple?”

They both laughed. But Beth, perhaps because of exhaustion, nevertheless seemed somber, even sad.

For many minutes they lay side by side, Peggy curled up, her hand resting affectionately on Beth’s breast. After a time, she felt Beth’s nipple alive again in her palm.

“Oh, Beth, you do want me, don’t you? You didn’t mind my being a little rough—”

“No, dear. I understand about that.” She drew Peggy’s hand away from her breast, raised it to her lips and kissed the fingers.

“Beth,” whispered Peggy, eyes shining, “it’s your turn now. Do everything. Teach me all about what lesbians do.”

The nurse could not help smiling at Peggy’s ingenuous eagerness. She sat up. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You’re a hussy. A shameless hussy.”

“A delicious hussy! Try me.”

Beth bent breathlessly to minister to Peggy, who now was the one lying supinely on the bed.

But unlike the prior wooing of the younger girl, the attentions of Beth seemed deliberately void of fondling, of stroking, of any bodily contact at all, save that established by the nurse’s fragrant, tender kisses. First they were devoted to Peggy’s mouth, sucked and savored like a crushed red berry under Beth’s lips, probed and wickedly teased by Beth’s flicking tongue.

Then the lips nibbled delicately at Peggy’s earlobe, sending the softest of sensations coursing through the girl, sensations building and broadening as the nurse kissed her neck, her shoulders—and then, as Peggy stiffened in taut response, her passion-swollen breasts. Each nipple was moistly enfolded, wetly warmed. Beth’s lips artfully tormented. The tip of her tongue rasped and tweaked. Then when Peggy thought she could stand this cruel titillation no longer, when she thought her bosom was about to burst with bliss and she pleaded for mercy, for respite, Beth’s mouth moved on.

Peggy felt the brush of Beth’s cheek on her navel. She flamed as Beth’s hair trailed a prickling caress along the sensitive skin of the torso. “Damn it, Beth. Please,” she pleaded, as Beth had pleaded before. “Oh, please. Beth!” Beth kissed on. Her lips were wet and lined with silk. Her tongue fluttered like a butterfly....

Later—much later—when the heavy breathing of the two unclad forms on the bed had quieted to normal, when only the sounds of the night were to be heard in the room—the crickets’ chirping, the rustling of the warm night breeze, the trees, the soft lapping from the lake-shore—Peggy spoke up. “People are an education, all right.”

Beth shifted, propped herself on an elbow.

“I hope by the end of the summer you’ll have learned more than that from me,” she said.

Peggy lay against the coolness of the fluffy pillow, her blond hair rumpled, her eyes closed. A look of complete satisfaction etched her face.

“I’ve learned enough for two summers,” she murmured, but on opening her eyes to look at Beth, she noted the gravity of the woman’s expression. She said, “I hope you know what I mean, Beth. I’ve learned what happiness is.”

Beth said nothing, nor did her face become less grave. Her eyes bored into Peggy, studying her, weighing her, and—so Peggy felt—accusing her.

“Look,” Peggy burst out, “none of this is anyone’s fault. And we—we enjoyed it, didn’t we?”

“Too much, maybe. Peggy, don’t you realize you may be marking yourself for life? Don’t you think you should make some effort to fight it?”

“Oh, if it will make you feel any better,” Peggy retorted, “I’ll go with Kirby the next time he asks.”

“Promise?”

Exasperated, Peggy said, “I promise.” And then, with a grin: “Always worrying about me, aren’t you?”

“Always,” Beth answered.

“Well, don’t. This is my off time. I don’t have to show up at my bunk until morning.”

Beth moved closer. Kirby and everything else were forgotten for the remainder of the night.

THIRTEEN

When Kirby called, two days later, Peggy evaded him no longer. “Drop by here about ten o’clock Sunday.”

“It’s a date,” he said happily.

As soon as she hung up, Peggy had regrets. What was she trying to prove?

But in spite of herself, when Sunday arrived, she enjoyed the expedition with him.

He picked her up at camp, drove her directly to a back section of his widowed aunt’s property. Leaving the car, they started walking across an untilled open field. Peggy became lost in a world of green pasture and blue sky.

Pausing under a lone apple tree, Peggy could feel Kirby’s eyes on her. She knew she looked especially attractive in her pink flowered skirt and touch-of-pink blouse cut to show off as much of her golden tan as possible. Her light hair, held back by a pink ribbon, fell to her shoulders. The breeze gracefully teased both skirt and hair.

She felt wondrously carefree.

“Come here,” Kirby said, falling to the ground under the trees and pulling her down next to him. “Tell me about yourself. You’re such a stranger. All I know about you is the way you look—and slap.”

She told him where she was from, where she was going to school, what she was studying. “And that’s about the story of my life,” she finished. “What about you?”

“Taking my Master’s at State. Psychology—just like you. I’ll finish next June.”

“Then what?”

“I’m not sure. I hope to get my doctorate.”

Peggy laughed. “And I thought you were a simple farm boy!”

“Well, I am. I come here summers to help out Aunt Lelia.”

Peggy covertly studied the lad next to her. He was slouched against the tree, chewing on a blade of grass. His brown eyes roamed the green and gold fields, resting occasionally on Peggy. She found him easy to talk to—much more interested in listening, apparently, than in impressing her with his own words. He seemed so relaxed in her company that it made her feel relaxed, too. They began to walk again, after a while, drinking in the beauty of the day.

Suddenly Kirby said, “Hey, you must be starving!” He looked at his watch. “Let’s drive to town and feed our faces.”

The day wore on—pleasantly, soothingly.

* * * * *

Peggy got back to camp a few minutes before the evening meal.

She hurried to the lounge, looking for Beth.

“Hi. How did it go?” Beth asked as Peggy walked in.

She sat down next to the nurse. “As you said, he’s nice. One of the nicest fellows I’ve ever dated.”

Beth nodded, a glimmer of a smile in her eyes.

“That reminds me,” she said. “Ted telephoned today.”

“What did he have to say?”

“I don’t know. Mike talked to him. Sorry you missed his call?”

“Are you kidding?” Her thoughts reverted to Kirby. “You know, you were right, Beth. I do have to get out and meet people.”

“There’s mess call,” Beth said, rising as the notes of the bugle reached them. “Let’s go in and eat.”

At the table, remembering Ted’s phone call, Peggy wondered if he were contemplating another visit. If so, maybe he had mentioned it to Mike. She glanced around, hoping to catch Mike’s eye. But the redhead was not at her regular seat. Night off probably, Peggy thought.

She did not run into Mike until the following evening in the lounge. But just as she approached the girl, the telephone rang.

Mike jumped from her chair. “I’ll get it!” She bounded to the wall box. Seconds later, a doleful look on her face, she held out the receiver. “For you, Peg.”

“I’d have called sooner,” she heard Kirby say, “but I never know when I can get you during the day. Peggy, I can’t wait to see you again.”

Peggy did not answer. What should she do? Encourage him? After all, her heart lay elsewhere.

“When will it be, Peggy?”

She hesitated. Then, feeling like a traitor, she said, “My next day off. I’ll call you.”

After the kids had been put to sleep in the cabin, Peggy rushed down to the Pillbox. She found Beth in her room, making coffee.

“I was expecting you,” Beth said.

“Oh, Beth—I’ve gone and done it. I promised Kirby I would see him again.”

“That’s what I want you to do.”

“But—honestly, Beth, I feel as if I’m cheating on you. Are you sure you won’t mind?”

“Of course not. Kirby is worth knowing.”

Peggy kissed the nurse on the cheek. “You’re an angel,” she said. “Why are you so good to me?”

“I like to see you happy.”

Is that what love is, Peggy wondered—the unselfish desire to see a loved one happy? If so, and if she desired as much for Beth, why had she accepted another date with a man? Despite Beth’s denials, Peggy was sure the nurse was inwardly bitter about it.

But if it were not love she felt for Beth, Peggy asked herself, what was it?

Hell, that’s silly, she thought. I love Beth. No question about it. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be risking everything to lie in her arms.

“Problems?” Beth asked, noting Peggy’s expression.

“Tell me the truth, Beth. The honest truth. Doesn’t it bother you to know I’m going out with somebody else?”

Beth sank into a chair. “To be honest, certainly it does. But it’s the right thing for you to do.” Beth’s lids masked her eyes.

Peggy sank to her knees before the chair, looked into Beth’s face.

I do love her, Peggy assured herself. I love everything about her. She ran a fingertip across Beth’s thigh.

“Beth,” she said. “Does a person always know when he—or she—is in love?”

Beth’s eyes fluttered open. “Not necessarily. Why?”

“No reason,” Peggy murmured, closing in on the nurse.

* * * * *

During that next date with Kirby, while riding back from town, Peggy asked the troublesome question. What is love? He admitted that he could not answer, and looked at her strangely.

That was the only uncomfortable moment of the day. He did not make a pass at her. But they laughed and joked and talked of many things—and Kirby revealed what to Peggy were astonishing depths of profundity, refreshing attitudes. Peggy’s respect for him had grown enormously by the time he returned her to camp, just after nine o’clock.

Before leaving the car, Peggy raised the question of love once again.

“Do you think enjoying sex with someone means that you love the person? I don’t mean just raw passion. I mean something—” she thought of her days and nights with Beth—“something good and—well, beautiful.”

“Not necessarily,” Kirby said. “Sometimes a thing is beautiful because we want it to be.”

“You mean it’s all in the mind?” Peggy was echoing Beth’s words.

“You could say that. Of course, very often a person uses sex as a substitute.”

“A substitute for what?”

“A lot of things—love, affection, the need to be needed. People sometimes try to find these things through sex.”

Kirby had cut his lights. Peggy stared through the windshield at the rising moon.

“Will you be able to get to your cabin without a flashlight?” he asked.

“Oh, sure. I could find it with my eyes shut.”

She waited, out of politeness. She expected him to try and kiss her good night.

But he made no move.

“So long, Kirby,” she said. “Thanks for a wonderful day.” With that, she stepped from the car. She picked her way across the parking lot, found the path to the hill.

At the turn-off to the Pillbox, however, she saw ahead of her the familiar figure in white.

“I thought you’d be along soon,” Beth said. She took the girl’s arm, led her toward the infirmary. “Have a nice time?”

“Very.”

“I’m glad. What kept you so late?”

“We were talking,” Peggy said. Rather reluctantly, she followed the nurse into her room.

“Sit down,” Beth said. “I could hardly wait until you got back. Thank heaven, we have the whole night ahead of us.” Beth kicked off her shoes. “Would you like something, dear? Tea?”

“Not right now.”

“I have a bottle of Scotch, you know.” Beth slipped off her stockings, stepped out of her uniform. “But I don’t think we should drink in camp, do you?” Beth loosened her bra.

Peggy forced her eyes away, glanced at her watch. “I think I’d better go, Beth. It’s getting late, and—”

“But you’re on leave until morning!” Beth sat down on the bed. “Aren’t you happy to be here with me?”

Peggy could not understand her mixed emotions. She forced herself to smile. “Of course I’m happy.” She walked to the bed, let her hand drop to the soft brown hair.

“Let’s lie in bed and talk a while,” Beth said eagerly.

“All right.” Peggy began undressing. What had come over her, anyway? Had being with Kirby affected her? Had his words given her doubts? Standing in her filmy underthings, she hesitated. At the moment she wished that she could escape.

“Let me,” Beth said. Deftly she loosened Peggy’s bra.

Peggy could not help the tremor that passed through her body, as she felt her heavy breasts touched.

Now Beth’s hands were on her hips, rolling down the silky half-slip.

Peggy turned her nakedness toward the nurse. “Beth, usually you accept me only under protest. You try to argue me out of it. Why are you different tonight? You’re eager. You lead the way—”

“Darling, I’m afraid I’ve changed. You’ve made me need you. Oh, I fought it, and I told you to fight it—but it was a losing battle, I guess. Peggy, you’re so lovely. You’re so fresh and clean and thrilling—” She held out her hands. “Come to bed with me.”

They embraced, warm nakedness against warm nakedness.

“Yes,” Peggy choked out. “Let’s go to bed.”

But even as her hands roamed the treasures of Beth’s body, as they passed over curves and swells and plumbed secret depths, a part of Peggy was elsewhere.

Oh, she heard Beth crooning, she could feel the heat and sense the passion alive in the nurse; yet it was as though Peggy were an onlooker, a nonparticipant in the emotions she had aroused.

She had learned the intimate nerves of Beth—the places where a touch makes a woman squirm and moan and cry out for more. And diligently, if automatically, Peggy tried to please—kissing, teasing, probing, rocketing the nurse into space, higher, higher still, until with a cry of ecstasy, Beth reached the ultimate heavens.

Peggy held Beth in her arms. She could feel the beat of the woman’s heart. She kissed the soft, sweet-smelling hair. Beth sighed, inched closer to Peggy.

At last Peggy noted Beth’s even breathing and hoped the nurse would fall asleep. Peggy closed her own eyes.

Then her lids shot open. There was a hand on her breast. She covered it with her own, stopping its slow caress.

“What’s wrong?” Beth asked.

“I’m just tired.”

Beth burrowed closer still. “You’re never too tired for this.”

“Beth, I—”

“Here’s something that will wake you up.”

Peggy shuddered as the nurse’s hands passed over her.

“You like this?”

“No—yes ... Beth, please!”

“Please what? This?”

“No.”

“How about this?”

“You’re torturing me,” Peggy moaned.

Beth laughed. “And you like it.”

Peggy squirmed under her touch.

“Don’t you like it, Peggy?”

Dumbly, the girl nodded.

“You like this...?”

Peggy’s blood began to boil.

“And this...?”

Her thighs quivered.

“I know everything you like. You like—”

Peggy gasped.

“Enough?”

“Yes.”

“Sure?” Her hands continued to move.

Peggy’s head was getting light.

“Do you want more?”

Peggy convulsed.

“Here?”

“Oh!”

Beth was relentless.

The room began to spin; the room and the bed and Peggy and Beth. Peggy clutched the nurse, held on for dear life as she soared on the wings of blissful agony. And then everything exploded into a hundred thousand pieces ... whirled like a celestial kaleidoscope ... and slowly fell back into place.

Peggy rested her head on Beth’s breast, struggled to catch her breath. Beth’s hands stroked her soothingly.

As she drifted off to sleep, words seeped into Peggy’s brain. _It’s all in your mind ... sex is a substitute ... something is beautiful because you want it to be...._

* * * * *

Several evenings later, Peggy sat by herself on a wooden bench on the lodge porch. Beyond the circle of the ceiling lamp, black night stretched bleakly; no moon, no stars. Kirby had been over a couple of times to walk with her when she had had time off. But this night Peggy wanted to be alone. She had thinking to do.

What she had to blame herself for, she realized, was not so much that she had fallen in love with another woman, had for better or worse slipped into a degraded way of life. After all, that concerned only Beth and herself. And maybe there were excuses for it.

But there was no excuse for having neglected to ferret out the twisted degenerate who had coerced Beth in the bathhouse—who perhaps had doped Peggy and certainly had ravished her. A person capable of such behavior was capable of anything, it seemed to Peggy. Such a person could violate other counselors, even the children. That person had to be identified, ejected from the camp.

Peggy did not blame Beth for refusing to name the person. She knew that in retaliation, the unknown one could expose Beth, destroy her and perhaps others. More important, the reputation of the camp would be ruined. What parent would ever send a daughter there?

Nevertheless, Peggy resolved to concentrate thereafter on running down the menace. After that, she would figure out some way of dealing with it. Peggy frowned. Once again, in her mind, she ran over the possibilities.

Lilian? Hardly likely. She was too unabashed about showing her own body, too frankly curious concerning the other girl’s bodies, as Peggy could testify. It seemed to her that a lesbian would disguise such interest, would be on her guard about it, although it was perfectly natural among girls at a camp.

What about Dorothy and little Ruth? As the summer had worn on, these two had been seen more and more in each other’s company. They took their days off and their nights off together. They thought nothing of being seen walking with arms about each other’s waists. Occasionally they even shared the same cot. Then there was Dorothy’s constant talk about men. That could be disguise, of course....

And speaking of disguises, what of the masquerade? Dorothy had come dressed as a man. The children had been delighted. Dorothy had been obliged to dance with each of the senior girls—but after the dancing, she had gone strolling with Ruth.

Peggy sighed. She had seen many such crushes among girls, at camp, at school. They did not necessarily mean a thing.

But Mike—she was another matter. Peggy lit a cigarette and thought carefully. Mike had that husky voice, the kind difficult to overhear if she had been the girl in the bathhouse. Peggy made up her mind to resume her former camaraderie with Mike, get her talking, try to find out where—

Peggy heard footsteps.

Speak of the devil!

Mike was walking up the stairs, dressed in yellow skirt and blouse, low-heeled sandals, earrings. Peggy was amazed at the transfiguration the outfit made in the girl. The yellow certainly did things for Mike’s bronze tan. She looked amazingly girlish and pretty.

“Hi, stranger,” Peggy said with a smile. “Big occasion?”

“I guess you could call it that,” Mike said uneasily. “Day off. See you, Peg.” And she rushed in, bound for the lounge.

Peggy scowled. Mike had been disappearing from camp quite a lot, lately. Where did she go? And with whom? She never spoke of her adventures. Why the secret life?

Peggy checked her watch. Close to ten. Restless, she rose and started for the lakeside. She could not resist the moonbeams glowing across the water.

She went only as far as the gate. There she stood long minutes, watching the ripples leave the spotlight and move to shore. Then she turned and began the trek up the hill to her bunk.

Camp was so different at night, she thought. So quiet—serene, actually. Peggy dragged her feet, hating the idea of crawling into bed, wishing she could spend all night wandering the dark, peaceful hills.

In the distance an owl hooted. Peggy shook off a mischievous impulse to answer him. Branches rustled as she hit a bush. Then she heard leaves somewhere nearby. A squirrel, she thought. Or maybe a chipmunk. She swept her light up the path.

She stopped sharply, startled by a figure flashing just ahead of the light beam then disappearing into the trees.

Peggy ran to the spot where the figure had dashed across the path. Were the kids up to something?

Cautiously, Peggy left the path, pushed her way among the trees. Brush crackled. She scanned the foliage with her light but saw nothing.

Then ahead of her a twig snapped. She heard an unladylike curse and scrunching leaves.

Peggy moved stealthily, circling the area with her flashlight. She saw nothing but rocks and tree trunks and fallen leaves and twigs and—

She held her light steady, focused about twenty feet in front of her on a crouching form.

Peggy moved closer.

The girl, rubbing her ankle, looked up.

Alice Hart!

Peggy hurried to her. The girl’s eyes, wide with fear, stared up at Peggy. There was a bruise on Alice’s cheekbone. Her disheveled hair hung to her shoulders. Peggy could make out a deep scratch on her neck. She clutched a torn bathrobe about her.

“Leave me alone,” she said, as Peggy approached.

“What happened, Alice?”

“Nothing.” The girl moved her leg and winced at the pain. “I fell down,” she said.

“Before that—what were you doing?”

The girl would not answer. Peggy reached out to help Alice get up.

“Don’t touch me!” she cried in abject terror.

Peggy stepped back. She stared at the youngster hunched there on the damp earth. “Come on, Alice. You’ve got to get out of here.” She reached out once more, put her hand on the girl’s arm.

At her touch, Alice let out a bloodcurdling scream. Peggy jumped back, alarmed.

“Alice,” Peggy whispered, as though to compensate for the girl’s noise, “you’ll wake up the whole camp.”

Peggy looked around for a limb to serve as a cane. She found one hanging from a low branch, suspended by only a few fibers. She broke it off with a resounding crack.

Returning to Alice, whose eyes followed her every move, Peggy held out the limb.

“Here,” Peggy said softly. “This will help you walk.”

The girl’s eyes moved to the branch.

“Come on,” Peggy told her.

“No,” the girl said in a frozen tone, her eyes riveted on the stick in Peggy’s hand. “Leave me alone. Leave me alone ... leave me alone ... leave me alone ...” she repeated, voice shrilling into a hysterical singsong. Then with a last wild shriek she tore her eyes from the limb, buried her head in her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably.

Peggy swung the branch to her shoulder, and moved one step toward the girl.

“What’s going on here?” a voice boomed behind them.

Peggy whirled to face Pam, taking the blinding beam of a flashlight full in her face.

FOURTEEN

Peggy blinked and turned away. When she opened her eyes, all was black with white and gold and red flecks swimming in front of her. She blinked harder.

“What’s going on?” Pam repeated.

Peggy stuttered out what she knew of the story. While she was talking, Mike came rushing through the shadows behind her sister. She caught the last of Peggy’s explanation.

Pam turned to Alice.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I got nothing to tell,” the girl said bitterly.

Pam did not insist.

“Come on, then. Let’s get you to your cabin.”

“Her foot is hurt,” Peggy cautioned. “I think she fell.”

Pam cast Peggy a furtive look. “Mike, help Alice up. See if she can walk.”

Mike braced the girl, managed to get her to her feet. As Alice threw an arm around Mike, her robe fell open.

Peggy’s jaw dropped. Pam said, “Christ!” The front of the girl’s pajamas had been ripped open, exposing her tender, maturing breasts. There was a scratch near one pink nipple, similar to the one Peggy had noticed on her neck.

Hastily Alice gathered her robe about her, her eyes darting to each of the three counselors.

Pam growled, “Mike, get her to Beth right away. Peggy and I are going to see Miss Duncan. Peggy, here, has a lot of explaining to do.”

“But—”

“Save it,” Pam said to Peggy.

“Pam, are you accusing her—”

“I’m not accusing anyone, Mike. I merely said that she had some explaining to do.”

“My God, she explained everything to you. And you know what Duncan will do.”

“It’s my job, Mike.”

“You’re acting too hastily.”

“Mike, I’ve caught her in action before. At one of the sleepouts, she had that Susie kid in the hay with her all night.”

“But she’ll be fired on the spot. You—”

The meaning of it all hit Peggy with an impact that left her speechless and thoughtless. Peggy was being accused of whatever horror had befallen Alice.

The rest of the conversation drifted to her through the fog clogging her brain—and left her even more incapable of thinking when Mike’s final words came through:

“But I know she had nothing to do with it,” the redhead was saying. “I’ll swear to it. She—” Mike faltered for only an instant—“she was with me.”

* * * * *

_She was with me ... she was with me ... with me ... me...._ For hours Peggy lay awake, trying to reconstruct everything that had happened from the moment Mike had walked up the lodge steps.

Peggy rolled to her side. She jammed her fists into the pillow, damp with perspiration. She remembered that when Mike had burst out of the bushes, she had been wearing jeans and sweatshirt. The fancy clothes had been gone.

Pam had finally been convinced, had promised not to report the incident to Miss Duncan for a time—provided Beth would approve. And provided Mike was able to do some profitable detective work in the next couple of days.

Peggy was no longer under suspicion. Or at least, no longer being accused.

But why—why had Mike lied?

Peggy sat up, her knees clutched to her chest. Was Mike guilty; had she committed the offense, then used Peggy as an alibi? But why? If Mike had remained silent, Peggy would have been dismissed immediately and the case probably forgotten.

Peggy thought hard once more.

A chilling thought suddenly touched her, making her stomach churn. Of course! Common sense at last had made her realize there was one other person who might molest a camper. Members gathered in her mind: Beth and Susie, Beth and the other girls....

If Beth would fondle an ailing ten-year-old in broad daylight, what would she do to a well-developed fourteen-year-old in the dark of night?

Peggy thrashed on her bed.

She could not wait for morning to come.

* * * * *

Beth stubbed out a cigarette.

“For God’s sake, Peggy, will you listen to me? I had nothing to do with it.”

Peggy was relentless. “What happened last night after she got here?”

Beth took another cigarette from the pack on the desk. “I looked her over, mercurochromed the scratches, and put her to bed in the next room.”

Peggy remembered her one night as a patient, and shuddered.

“Was she doped up? Did you crawl into bed with her?”

The cigarette stopped halfway to the nurse’s mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Peggy searched Beth’s soft face for signs of guilt, found none. It is the same soft face, with the same gentle mouth, the same compassionate expression.

“Now calm yourself, Peggy,” she was saying. “I’m not angry with you for accusing me. I know you’re strung up.”

“Thanks,” growled Peggy. She would have loved to believe the nurse innocent, but other images were forming in Peggy’s thoughts—girls in the Pillbox, girls clustering around the nurse as she walked through the camp grounds, girls rushing to hold her hand or give her a bouquet of wild flowers....

“Alice will speak, maybe, after she gets over her fear. What did you do, Beth—threaten to kill her if she ever opens her mouth?”

“If she speaks, it may bring tragedy to many of us,” Beth said. “But I hope she does—I hope she does—”

Peggy turned on her heel, marched out of the Pillbox.

What bothered her now was that she was involved with this woman, involved with the whole debauched pattern that numbered Alice as its latest victim.

Peggy walked along slowly. Could she ever break out of it?

There had to be a way. A way to escape this sickness, or at least find out if she could.

Chin firmly lifted, Peggy went to the lodge and called Kirby.

“Can you meet me tonight? After taps?”

“Any time, any place. You know that.”

* * * * *

Kirby picked her up at the gate.

“Take me to some nice, lonely spot. A quiet one.”

“Sure. I suppose those noisy kids can get on your nerves after a while.”

He swung the car around. Twenty minutes later he turned into a remote dirt lane.

He switched off the ignition, adjusted the seat, and laid his head back, gazing at the stars.

Peggy moved, so that her soft thigh brushed his hard one. Her head was nearly touching his shoulder.

He got the message.

“I’ve been waiting for that, Peggy. After the time you slapped me, I resolved never to make advances—not unless you let me know you wanted them.” He sighed. “It’s been difficult. You’re more than beautiful, Peggy. You’re entrancing, enchanting—” And his arm went around her.

She waited, knowing he was going to kiss her. She wanted him to. When his lips pressed hers, her own lips parted, accepting his kiss, returning it.

The kiss persisted as his hand tightened on her shoulder, as his arm drew her closer.

Peggy’s hand crawled around his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair. Still the kiss did not break.

She twisted in the seat, touching his lean body.

They broke away, then. Peggy was facing him, her legs curled under her. Neither of them spoke.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and could hear the thud of his heart under his thin shirt.

“Kirby,” she said, “you think sex is beautiful when two people are in love, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And if they’re not in love—if they don’t feel anything for each other?”

He thought a moment. “I don’t know, Peggy. I’ve never made love to a girl that I didn’t feel something for.”

She raised her head. “Never?”

He shrugged, guided her head back to his shoulder. “I couldn’t, Peggy. A lot of guys do, but not Kirby.”

“What about me? Could you make love to me?” The tremor in her voice gave it a strange, childlike quality.

“Foolish question.” Kirby swallowed. “Do you want me to make love to you?”

“Would it be—good?”

“It would be the best.”

She did not hesitate. “Then I want you to.”

Kirby squeezed her to him. “Peggy—do you know what you’re doing?”

“I think so.”

His words tumbled out eagerly. “I have a blanket in back. I’ll throw it on the ground. We can sit there for a while—you can reconsider if you like—”

“Do you always carry a blanket around?” she asked, surprised that she should care.

“It’s Aunt Lelia’s picnic blanket.” He laughed. “Do you think I keep it around for—for special occasions like this?” He took Peggy’s face in his hands, kissed her. “I told you. I’m not the wolf type, understand? I have to care for a girl.”

Peggy tried to hug him, but he broke away.

“I’ll get the blanket,” he said gruffly.

He spread it carefully, took her by the hand and led her to it. Peggy sat down, gazing through the open ceiling of trees at the glittering stars. The night was warm. Crickets were murmuring.

Peggy’s eyes ran up the trunk of a gnarled old tree that bushed into a profusion of leaves and branches. She felt as though she were in a dream. Who was she? What was she doing here? Who was the man?

Kirby’s lips on her throat brought her back to earth. He nuzzled her hair, trailed his lips to her ears, then found her mouth. He pressed his lips to hers, holding her, pulling her to him so that her breasts met his hard chest.

Lips still locked, Kirby lowered Peggy to her back. She clung to him, so that his body smothered the rise and fall of her throbbing breasts.

His tongue slid forward into her mouth, touching, circling, caressing, sending a fever of delight along Peggy’s spine.

Kirby shifted his weight. Now one hand was free to cup and caress a molded breast.

Peggy’s hands moved over his broad back, rounded his shoulders, played in his hair. His hand on her breast stroked and tenderly squeezed, teasing the hidden nipple, hardening it. It was she, impatient, who sat up and got rid of her blouse.

A thin, lacy strapless covered Peggy’s heaving breasts. Kirby ignored it at first, kissing, caressing around it, trailing his lips below, above, while hands and fingers outlined the filmy bra, barely touching the hidden breast.

Then he sat up. He pulled off his shirt.

And then her bra.

Peggy lay still while Kirby’s eyes drank in the beauty of her heavy breasts bathed in the silver moonlight. Then a finger touched the berry tip; a hand gently squeezed, smoothed. “Peggy,” he whispered. “Darling Peggy.” His head came down. His lips and tongue and teeth made a feast of her bosom.

For Peggy, the world had turned to passion. She twisted to feel him against her, thigh upon thigh, bare flesh against bare flesh. She moaned and squirmed and, finally, tearing him from his newfound treasure, forced his lips to hers, hot and demanding. His weight and heated flesh came bearing down on her. The feel of him—all of him—against her, the heat of his hard, muscular body, filled her with flame. Yet Kirby would not be rushed. He played with her and gentled her, handling his weight so that it would not crush or exhaust her. He devoted himself far less to his own pleasure than to hers, neglecting no effort however sustained, no exploration however intimate. The result was that unbearable tensions built up in Peggy. Blissful as was this reverent love-making, she wanted him wholly, completely ... now!

He sensed by her murmurs, her writhing, that the time had come for ecstasy. Hearts pounded, blood raced, bodies tore at each other until finally all reason fled, leaving only lusts to be fulfilled. The pair became one, bathed in the luminous glow of the moon. Locked in the eternal embrace, she felt utterly pierced with delight, and moving to receive this man, this marvelous Kirby, she moaned with the ineffable pleasure of it. The countless silver-bright stars above seared the dark sky with their brilliance. Yet all of these—the stars and earth and moon—joined the sun itself, coming together within Peggy’s being. The infinite light, the limitless heat, filled her to bursting, then erupted with such force that her very soul was shattered. Her teeth sank into Kirby’s shoulder as joy like sheer pain coursed through her.

And slowly all the world fell into place around Peggy, and after a while she herself felt whole once more. Kirby, in whose arms she rested, Kirby too was there.

She smiled. She had learned something.

“Peggy,” said Kirby brokenly, “I—I think I love you.”

She stroked his rumpled hair.

“Peggy—how do you feel about me?”

“I think you’re a doll,” she said. She could not commit herself to anything more. Not while she was still involved with Lesbos. Not while mysteries remained to be solved. “Take me back to camp now, will you?”

And she kissed him.

FIFTEEN

That night Peggy had little trouble sleeping. She was full of elation. As slumber came over her, she was remembering Kirby’s embrace.

In the morning, the camp scene seemed normal enough. Everyone—not excepting Pam and Beth and Mike—calmly went about their usual routines. How long would Pam let things ride, Peggy wondered. More than that, she wondered when and where Alice’s attacker might strike again. She decided to keep the closest possible watch on Mike, even if it meant neglecting her duties.

Before the swim period that afternoon, Peggy hurried into her suit and ran down to the lounge. She expected Kirby to call her. She was rubbing suntan lotion on her shoulders when Lilian walked in, a brief purple halter covering her ample breasts, skimpy shorts of the same purple below. Over her shoulders she had thrown a bright pink shirt.

Peggy looked at her in surprise. “Where’s your suit? Aren’t you going in today?”

Lilian shook her head. “I’ve had all I can take of the squealing monsters for a while.” She eyed the lotion bottle. “Like some help?”

“No, thanks. Just finished.” Peggy capped the bottle and sank into one chair, propped her oiled legs on the arm of another.

“If you’re going to make it down on time, you’d better be on your way,” Lilian advised.

“I’m waiting for a call.”

Lilian lifted an eyebrow. “Ted?”

“I should say not. Why I haven’t heard from him in ages. I don’t think he’ll bother calling any more.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

A frown took over Peggy’s face. “Meaning what?”

“Ask Mike,” said Lilian.

“Why Mike?”

“Didn’t you know?” Lilian snickered. “I thought gossip spread like wildfire in this place.”

Peggy stared. “What are you talking about, Lilian?”

Lilian did not answer right away. Her eyes were focused on the white line above Peggy’s breasts where the suit, as usual, had slipped a little.

Noticing, Peggy pulled the suit into place, fastened the straps.

Lilian grinned. “Modest?”

“And how. Lilian, will you please tell me about that gossip?”

“Sure.” She lit a cigarette. “It’s all very simple. Your friend Mike has been dating your lover.”

“What!” Peggy jumped up. “Listen, I’ve got to get down to the water. See you later, Lilian.”

Flying down the steps, she stumbled, almost fell. Grabbing the rail, she proceeded more cautiously to the bottom of the hill, then broke into a run, charging through the line of swimmers standing at the gate.

She caught Mike just as the swimming instructor started to climb the high tower. Running along the dock, Peggy called out to her.

Mike stopped, a foot resting on the first rung. She turned her red head toward Peggy.

“May I speak to you a minute?”

“Sure.” Mike backed away from the ladder.

Peggy hesitated, looked around. No one was actually within hearing distance. “Well ... you know how people talk around these places. I heard someone say something ... I mean, it was about you and Ted. Mike, have you been going out with him?”

“What makes you ask that?”

Peggy shrugged. “I told you—I heard someone talking. I didn’t believe it, anyway.” She began walking off.

Mike said in her huskiest voice, “Wait. Who gave you the tip? Lilian?”

Peggy backtracked. “Yes.”

“That figures.” Mike lifted her whistle, blew it sharply. “Get back there,” she called to a camper poking a leg into the water. “Swim doesn’t start for five minutes.” Then the redhead hitched up her tanksuit, looked Peggy in the eye. “I thought you said you didn’t care about Ted.”

“I don’t.”

Mike’s face burst into a grin. “I’m glad. You told me you didn’t want him, but I thought maybe I was doing you dirt, you see, and I was trying to keep it hidden.” She gripped Peggy’s oiled shoulder. “Yes,” she said, “I’ve been going out with Ted. I’m crazy about him. And I think he likes me.” The grin grew broader. “I’ve got the muscles to handle him.”

“Mike, just one more thing. Did you make it with him?”

“Make it?” Then Peggy’s meaning reached Mike, and her face colored beet-red. That was answer enough.

Peggy looked away. “I shouldn’t have asked that—I’m sorry.”

“Forget it. And if you want to know why I lied for you after they found you with Alice—well, I know you wouldn’t harm a kid.”

“Who would?”

“I have an idea. I have to get proof. Otherwise, Pam will give you the gate despite anything we can do. She’s meeting with Miss Duncan this afternoon. They may call you in.”

“Anyway,” Peggy said, “I’m glad about you and Ted. I wish you the best, both of you.” Right there in front of the whole camp, Peggy pecked Mike on the cheek. “Listen, can you excuse me from this swim?”

“Why not? There are plenty of counselors on hand today. Now we can be friends again, hey, Peggy?”

“Oh, you’re so right!”

The girls smiled at one another. Then Mike lifted the whistle and blew two blasts. “Take the boat, Mary,” she called huskily. “Helen, watch those Juniors. All right, everybody. All in!”

Sixty squealing campers hit the water simultaneously.

Away from the waterfront, Peggy drifted into the woods back of the bathhouse. She crossed to a clearing and found a stump to sit on. She propped her elbows on her knees, rested her chin in her hands. She was in a turmoil.

She had thought she had the Alice-mystery solved. Mike had been the culprit; she had heard Peggy on the path and had fled from Alice. Then Mike had circled around, making it look as though she had come from the cabin after hearing Alice’s scream. She had lied not for Peggy, but to give herself an alibi. It had been that simple in Peggy’s mind.

But now....

Mike, apparently, was no frantic, dyed-in-the-wool lesbian type, ready to risk everything to pounce on girls like Peggy and Alice. Mike was gone on a man.

So if not Mike—who? Beth? Maybe Peggy should go to Miss Duncan right now and report the nurse. Peggy looked at things a lot differently, now that the experience with Kirby had demonstrated that she was not bound to lesbianism.

Yet it would be wrong to unjustly damage Beth. If only it weren’t for all this mystery....

A twig snapped behind Peggy.

She whirled.

Ten paces down the path stood Lilian, still in the pink and purple outfit, her black hair pinned in a swirl atop her head.

Recovering from her fright, Peggy managed a smile. “God, you scared me, I—”