shelf. “Loosen your shirt,” she said to Peggy. “I forgot about this
stuff. It should fix you up in no time.”
Peggy pulled off the shirt. She undid her bra.
Sitting down on the bed once more, Mike let the liniment trickle to
Peggy’s skin. The concoction hit cold on Peggy’s flesh, but as Mike
began to rub it in, Peggy felt heat work through to the aching muscle.
After a while, Mike spoke—quietly, voice huskier than ever: “Peg, about
yesterday—”
“Yesterday?”
“In the Pillbox,” Mike said.
Memories flooded Peggy. “Yes?”
“I just want to apologize—”
“You don’t have to apologize—unless you’re sorry for what happened,”
Peggy told her, afraid of what might be said, afraid once more of her
own feelings and yearnings.
Mike massaged gently, tenderly. “I want you to understand how I feel.
Why I acted the way I did.”
Peggy thought of her romance with Ted, the days and the nights, the
beginning and end. She wondered briefly if there had ever been a man in
Mike’s life. She contrasted the previous night’s silky love-making with
Ted’s tough, hurtful sex. And she said, “I understand, Mike.”—Although
not sure if she did, only hoping.
After a long silence, Mike spoke again: “There are a few things you
should know.”
“I don’t want the details of anybody’s life history.” The words sounded
more abrupt than Peggy had intended, interrupting the smooth rhythm of
Mike’s fingers.
“I wasn’t going to give you a life history,” Mike answered tartly, her
fingers stopping altogether now, but still resting on Peggy’s back. “I
just think you should understand the situation.” She reached for the
liniment.
“I understand all I want to.”
Once more cold drops on bare skin. Peggy winced.
“Peggy—”
“Please, Mike.”
“All right, Peggy. But—” She sighed. “Forget it. Roll over, will you? I
want to work on the front for a while.”
Peggy squirmed. She rose to one elbow, flipped herself to her back. The
straps of her bra hung loose. She flung it off. Her lithe, luxuriant
breasts poked their saucy tips at Mike.
“Nice,” Mike commented huskily. “Do you always wear a bra? Most of the
girls don’t, here in camp.”
“I don’t like the feeling of them bouncing around. They’re so big.”
“The bigger the better, I always say.” Mike’s hands spread liniment on
the smooth skin over Peggy’s bosom. The palms rubbed and kneaded. Peggy
waited breathlessly for the hands to go lower. Deliberately she shifted
a little, bringing a breast into contact with Mike’s fingers, trying to
tempt her, encourage her.
It wasn’t so bad to be close to a woman, Peggy thought. To have her
hands on you, moving, touching, roaming. In fact—
The screen door banged.
Mike jumped to her feet.
Lilian stood just inside the door, one eyebrow arched. “I hope I’m not
intruding.”
Peggy swung to a sitting position on the edge of the cot, grabbed for
her brassiere and shirt.
Lilian was staring at Mike, whose pale flesh seemed to be bursting out
of the scanty tanksuit. “Excuse me, Madam Waterfront Director, isn’t it
time you were directing?”
Mike glared at the girl with the black hair. “I was just leaving,” she
said, and turned toward Peggy. “You coming?”
Before Peggy could open her mouth, Lilian said, “She can find her own
way to the lake.” As Mike crossed the zoom, Lilian added, “I won’t keep
her long.”
Mike cast Lilian a killing look as she lumbered out the door, slamming
it behind her.
“She needn’t have left in such a huff,” Lilian commented. For a moment
she stood poised like a bright bird in her costume of blue blouse and
tight orange shorts. Then she walked over to Peggy, placed a palm on her
forehead. “How are you feeling?” she asked, with a mildness Peggy had
not expected.
“Mentally or physically?” Peggy asked.
“Sassy, huh?” Lilian patted her cheek, and walked away. “I take it the
stomach trouble is over, then.”
“Yeah, the stomach is fine. But my shoulder—ouch! Smell the liniment?
Mike was giving me a rubdown.”
“I bet,” Lilian said. She slipped out of her blouse. “Aren’t you going
down to the waterfront?” she asked. “You’re supposed to be on duty, you
know.”
Peggy nodded. “I suppose I should go change.”
Lilian pulled something colorful from a drawer, flung it at Peggy. “Try
this on,” she said.
“I can’t wear that,” Peggy protested. “It’s a bikini.”
“I think you can,” Lilian said, stepping out of the shorts. She hung her
outfit in the closet, then walked across the room in filmy panties, her
bosom bare. Peggy was still sitting on the bed.
“You’re not dressing,” Lilian said, leaning over to retrieve the bikini.
“Want some help?” She reached for Peggy’s shirt.
Peggy pulled away. “I can do it,” she said, slipping out of the thing.
Lilian’s eyes were fixed on Peggy’s full breasts, squeezed into a snowy
white bra quite inadequate to hide the creamy mounds. Abruptly she
turned away. “Put it on,” she said, moving to her own cot on which a
one-piece black suit was lying.
By the time Lilian had pulled on her suit, Peggy had stuffed her hips
into the triangular patch and was struggling with the ribbon around her
breasts.
Lilian walked over to her. She took the ties of the bikini in one hand,
lowered Peggy’s hand with the other, then trailed her fingers up Peggy’s
arm to rest momentarily on her shoulder. She ran a palm across Peggy’s
bare skin.
“You have a beautiful back—soft and cool, like satin.”
She took more time than Peggy thought was necessary to tie the band.
Then she ran her finger under it, adjusting it.
“Turn around,” Lilian said, and stepped back. The dark eyes traveled
from Peggy’s generous breasts to her exposed belly, across the
polka-dotted triangle, down the firm thighs—and back to the breasts.
Lilian smiled. “I guess you are a little bigger than I,” she said,
moving toward Peggy. She reached out to straighten the ribbon and thus
cover a nipple that insisted on peeking over the edge of the band.
The touch of Lilian’s agile hand against her breast made Peggy’s skin
tingle. She made an attempt to push the hand away, but in the process
both girls moved so that the hand dropped straight down, one long nail
leaving a mark on Peggy’s skin, then catching in the top of the bikini
panty.
Peggy’s eyes flashed to Lilian’s face. Neither girl moved. They stood
fractions of an inch away from each other—Peggy’s heaving breasts all
but touching Lilian’s semi-exposed bosom. Lilian’s left hand, warm now,
rested on Peggy’s forearm, while the finger of the other still clung to
the suit. Dark eyes held hazel. Hazel eyes did not waver.
It was Lilian who moved first. She withdrew her hand, removed her
finger, looked away.
“I’m sorry, Peggy,” she said, eyeing the red scratch on Peggy’s stomach.
She ran a fingertip along the mark. “Does it hurt?”
Peggy laughed uncomfortably. “Forget it. I’m accident-prone. I should
have told you.”
“You’re elegant in that suit, Peggy! Look in the mirror.”
Lilian started out of the cabin.
“I’ll be right back—I’m going to the washroom—”
Peggy padded over to the full-length mirror on the closet door. She was
startled by the girl gazing back at her. The bikini certainly did things
for her nineteen-year-old body.
Peggy Matthews studied herself from head to toe. She took in the blond
hair that fell to her shoulders, thick and silky, dipping in a wave on
her forehead—the unusual clear-hazel eyes smoldering under starry
lashes—the pert nose with its touch of little-girl innocence—the full
cherry lips, moist, slightly parted, yielding a glimpse of even white
teeth. She inspected the ivory column that was her neck, her tapered
shoulders still glistening with liniment, her breasts—full and firm,
proud in their youthfulness.
Peggy wanted to tear away the knotted band hiding the bold pink nipples.
She wanted to see them staring back at her, taut and ready for love. But
she resisted the impulse and lowered her eyes to the bareness below the
ribbon—to the skin so white because it was always hidden from the sun,
skin petal-soft and baby-smooth—to the dark hollow that was her navel,
small and unobtrusive, yet in its own way attractive, she thought—to the
flat stomach unblemished except for the red mark left by Lilian’s nail.
Her eyes rested then on the bikini triangle, bright and alluring, hiding
practically nothing. She measured her hips, full and round, her firm
thighs, golden with the sunlight they had captured. The legs, stemming
long and shapely from the bikini’s edge to the painted toenails, she
knew were good legs. Made for bathing suits and short skirts—and for
loving, by the looks of them.
Loving....
Could so warm and womanly an exterior hide a rotten core?
Peggy shifted her glance and realized that she had not been the only one
studying her near-naked body.
Lilian had returned and was standing in the doorway. She averted her
eyes and walked in.
“Listen,” Peggy said. “This thing is too small. And too daring. I think
I’d better get it off.” She struggled with the back ties once more.
“Let me help,” Lilian said. “I think there’s a knot.”
Peggy turned and fumbled with the lower ties, while Lilian worked on the
ribbon. By the time Lilian had loosened the knot, Peggy was holding the
triangular patch in her hand.
Lilian’s arm went around Peggy to catch the band as it slid from the
quivering breasts.
Peggy whirled as the door creaked open. She was standing a breath away
from Lilian—but facing so that Mike was gazing directly at her naked
bosom.
There was not a whisper of sound in the room. Even the noises outside
seemed to stop as the three girls confronted each other: Peggy covered
only by a crumpled patch she held in front of her—Lilian, mouth open,
startled out of her usual poise—and Mike, silent, sturdy body motionless
in the flimsy black tanksuit.
Then, as though a lever had been pulled releasing them, all three moved
at once. Peggy grabbed her shirt from the bed. Lilian stooped to pick up
the fallen bikini. Mike mumbled, “Forgot my towel.” She grabbed the
fluffy white terrycloth from a rack and slammed out of the cabin.
SIX
Standing in the glaring afternoon sunlight a few minutes later, her eyes
focused on the shimmering blue water, Peggy wished she had begged off
guard duty during free swim. It was difficult to concentrate on the
swimmers when her thoughts kept flashing back to those last few
minutes—seconds, actually—in the cabin.
What would Mike think, Peggy wondered. What could she think, being the
kind of person she was?
And Lilian. Peggy blushed, thinking of how self-conscious she had been
about baring her body, about being touched. Surely, after Lilian had
walked in on that massaging bit, Peggy’s jumpy reactions must have put
suspicions into the shrewd Lilian’s head. After all, what was out of the
ordinary in visible nudity, in being helped to dress or undress, at a
camp teeming with girls of all ages?
Peggy bit her lip. It served her right. Those feelings of lust and
curiosity of hers had been wholly evil, noxiously twisted in a way that
deserved scorn and punishment.
Yet she was quite convinced by now that something could be wrong with
her. That bliss during the night, real or dreamed. That pleasure in the
knowing touch of Mike’s hands. That hypersensitivity about her body
exposed to Lilian. These made it imperative, it seemed to Peggy, that
somehow she learned the truth about herself.
Peggy forced herself to concentrate on the youngsters in the roped-off
“crib”—the section reserved for weak swimmers. Their shrill voices, as
they frolicked and splashed, made them sound like a flock of birds.
The brilliant sun beat down on Peggy’s bare back and hair, burning her
skin and making her scalp hot and sticky. Her eyes skimmed the crystal
water, traveling past the swimmers, out to the dark center where you
could dive to icy depths that the sun could not reach. Soon she would go
in for a dip and get rid of that liniment smell. Her shoulder did feel
much better.
Peggy snapped to attention. Some of the girls had started a game of
water tag. This was allowed, but always threatened trouble: a collision,
an upset, an unexpected gulp of lake water going down the wrong pipe and
leaving a girl gasping. Peggy followed the proceedings with an alert eye
as the kids squealed and splashed and dodged in all directions. Shrill
cries and laughter floated upward.
Peggy smiled involuntarily at sight of the merriment, but her attention
was soon drawn to another bunch of girls, somewhat older, swimming in
from the diving raft. One slick blond head was falling behind, and the
strokes were labored. Peggy squinted against the sun. She recognized the
head as that of Susie Edison. Suddenly the child threw up a hand, seemed
to slip backward in the water. In a moment she was submerged. She
surfaced, lifted her other hand wildly, disappeared again.
Peggy blew three sharp blasts on her whistle.
In a bound, Peggy had leaped from the dock and was wading through the
crib to deep water. At the sound of the whistle, as trained, the campers
stopped all activity, pulled in to shore or stopped where they were,
treading water.
On station far on the other side of the raft, Mike heard the signal and
came piling in with the boat, oars flying furiously. Dorothy, the tall
riding instructress, was on raft duty. She took a long, racing dive,
crawled hard toward the sinking child.
But it was Peggy who got there first. She surface-dived, caught Susie
about four feet down, easily evaded the hold the child tried to clamp on
her. Working from behind, Peggy twisted Susie into a cross-arm carry,
kicked to the surface and began pulling her to safety.
At the dock, Mike took Susie into her arms, ran with her to the
bathhouse. Dorothy and Peggy were close behind, along with dozens of
frightened campers and counselors.
“Ella, see if you can find Miss Beth. She might be in the Pillbox,”
Peggy called to one of them. “You go too, Joyce. Look in the lounge.
Tell Miss Beth to come right away. The rest of you stand back. Keep away
from the bathhouse—”
But the Intermediate group was already out of the water and thronging
the interior of the bathhouse; they were scheduled for extra softball
practice. They were standing around in every stage of dress and undress,
drying themselves with towels, combing hair, sorting out shoes, giggling
and squabbling with each other.
“Out, everybody!” yelled Dorothy. But the girls only backed up a bit as
they caught sight of Mike carrying Susie. Peggy had found an air
mattress. Susie was lowered to it. Moaning and sputtering, she lay with
her legs doubled up, her hands clutching at her stomach.
Dorothy herded the Intermediates through the broad doorway, took up
guard in front of it.
By this time Susie was sitting up, still sputtering and gasping, but
strong enough to rub her eyes with her fists. “My belly,” she moaned.
“It hurts.”
“Stomach cramp,” muttered Mike.
At that moment Beth walked in.
She was wearing a short, nubby beach coat over a one-piece orange
swimsuit.
“What happened?” she wanted to know at once. Before Peggy had finished
explaining, Beth had pulled off the coat and was wrapping it around the
girl.
“Let’s get her dried off and warmed up before anything else,” Beth said.
On her knees, she spoke reassuring to Susie. “As soon as you get out of
this wet suit, you’ll feel better.” Beth fumbled under the robe, her
fingers working expertly with fastenings. “Lift your foot,” she said.
Then she pulled the cold, wet garment from Susie’s cramped and shivering
body.
“Listen,” Mike said gruffly. “I’ve got to get back to the water. All the
kids are waiting to resume the swim.”
“Go ahead,” Beth said. “Susie will be all right. Peggy will help me.”
“Come on, Dorothy,” Mike said at the doorway. She and the riding
counselor, shooing away curious children at the doorway, walked off
along the dock. Dorothy was not usually assigned to water duty, Peggy
knew. Probably the tall girl was substituting for some counselor whose
“day off” it was.
Peggy appreciatively watched Beth work. She had grabbed a towel from a
nearby bench and was briskly rubbing the nude quivering body, all the
while talking softly and soothingly. Susie relaxed a bit.
When she was completely dried, Beth helped her up and steered her toward
the bench. But once more Susie’s arms clutched her aching belly. Beth
attempted to force Susie back on the wooden bench but on second thought
Beth herself sat down, lifted the chubby ten-year-old to her lap.
Beth held Susie close, urging the wet head to her shoulder, for a moment
touching a cheek to the damp blond hair. She stroked tenderly, rocked
back and forth, crooned and patted. She touched her lips to Susie’s
neck.
The girl’s whimpering stopped.
“That’s my girl. Put your arm around my neck,” Beth said then, taking
the arm from where Susie was still clutching herself. “You hold on to
me, and I’ll make your tummy feel better,” the nurse promised.
The girl forced herself to keep her arm from her body. She clung
desperately to Beth. Beth’s hand went under the warm robe, parting it
slightly. For one second she stroked the virgin softness of the girl’s
cramped belly. Then she began to rub. Her fingers massaged and kneaded,
the heel of her hand pushed into the tightened muscle, forcing some of
the pain away.
Susie lay quietly in Beth’s arms as the nurse worked, her head still
resting on Beth’s shoulder. Her bare legs dangled from the loosened
robe, her feet not quite touching the floor.
“Does that feel better?” Beth asked.
Susie nodded. One hand wiped away drying tears from her eyes. She
snuggled closer to Beth, who kissed the creased brow.
“Can’t I do anything?” Peggy asked.
“I don’t think so, Peggy. I would guess the cramp is about gone.” She
gave Susie a hug. “Think you can walk now, dear?” she asked.
Susie sat up straighter. She squirmed from Beth’s lap and tried to
stand.
“Can you walk up the hill?”
“I g-guess so, Miss Beth.”
“We’ll be all right,” Beth told Peggy. “You can get back to duty.” Her
voice full of somewhat overdone cheer, she said, “Susie’s going to have
a little medicine, lie down in the Pillbox a while, and by this evening
shell be as good as new. Right, Susie?”
“I-I guess so, Miss Beth.”
The pair started slowly up the hill, Beth with her arm around Susie,
half-carrying the girl.
By the time Peggy got back to her post the swim period was almost over.
She waved to Dorothy, standing on the dock, to tell her everything was
under control. Peggy kept her eyes on the swimmers, forcing herself to
stay alert. The water looked cool and inviting, and Peggy considered a
quick dip after the campers were out, but as soon as Mike’s whistle blew
a few minutes later signaling the end of the session, Peggy hurried from
the dock. During her years at camp she had seen too many kids pulled out
of the water to be overly concerned. Besides, she felt Susie was in good
hands. Peggy narrowed her eyes. Maybe the hands were too good.
Peggy sighed. She would postpone considering that angle. All she wanted
to do right now was avoid seeing Mike.
That’s why Peggy hurriedly left the waterfront. Still vivid in her mind
was the scene in the cabin with Lilian and Mike glaring at each other.
No, Peggy did not yet want to face Mike. For Peggy was embarrassed. Even
more embarrassed now than she had been earlier that morning. Because at
that time she had been embarrassed for herself. Now she was embarrassed
for the redhead.
* * * * *
At dinner, Peggy went through her serving routine mechanically.
Afterward, as the campers moved into the various game rooms and the
library, and the counselors migrated to the lounge, Peggy ambled out of
the lodge, began walking without direction.
“Going my way?” came a voice from the pines, a voice as warm as the
balmy night air.
Peggy raised her eyes.
Standing ahead of her on the path was Beth.
Chagrin shot through Peggy. She had wanted to be alone. But the feeling
swiftly disappeared. Beth’s obviously sincere pleasure in running into
Peggy was contagious. As she approached the nurse, who looked neat and
efficient as usual in her white outfit, Peggy could not help responding
to the friendly smile that touched her lips.
“Things were so hectic at the waterfront today,” she said, “that I
didn’t have a chance to ask how your date was.”
They moved off along the path, side by side.
“It went okay,” Peggy said.
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
Peggy hesitated. Why not tell the truth? “We broke up,” she blurted.
“For good, this time.”
“Peggy. You were so happy when he called—”
“Not really. I just thought I missed him, I guess.” She was silent a
minute, thinking that Ted had not changed, that she had known he would
not but had hoped that he might have. Hoped because she had needed him,
needed him to talk to, to cling to rather than be sucked into the
quicksands of evil threatening to engulf her. And he had disappointed
her, leaving her still needing and desperately wanting someone to cling
to, to rely on, if only for the sake of her own sanity. She sighed. “I
don’t know, Beth. I’m at a loss about a couple of things. In fact, I
feel pretty damned confused.”
Beth held a branch out of Peggy’s way, then let go when the girl had
passed. It snapped back into place, the leaves swishing. “Why not come
to the Pillbox with me?” the nurse invited. “I have to take care of a
poison-ivy case, but then we can have some coffee, if you like. And if
you want to talk, I’ll be glad to listen.”
A grateful feeling swept over Peggy.
* * * * *
Inside the infirmary, Peggy watched Beth check the prurient splotches on
the camper’s leg, administer a salve, and send the girl away with
instructions to leave the irritated area alone and stay out of the
water.
“I’ll give Miss Judy some medicine for you,” the nurse said at the door.
“You remind her tonight before you go to bed to put it on.” She shook
her head. “Acres and acres of grass and woods, and she walks into one
three-foot patch of poison ivy.” She gazed around at the compact,
gleaming white clinic. “Come into my hideaway,” she invited. “It’s not
so repulsively sterile.”
She led the way into the room that served as her living quarters. Peggy
sank into an armchair, while Beth fussed at the hot plate.
Peggy’s eyes toured the small box of a place, sparsely furnished, but
less rugged and more comfortable than the usual camp quarters. The walls
were painted a cheerful yellow. The two windows were curtained. In one
corner there was a neatly made bed topped by a flowered spread. A
covered card table and two folding chairs served as a kitchen set, and
in another corner were visible a half-refrigerator, a hot plate that sat
on an all-purpose cabinet, and a sink.
Beth turned from her preparations, slipped off her white shoes and
stockings, and stepped out of the white uniform. Peggy was surprised to
note that underneath, Beth still wore the orange swimsuit in which she
had appeared at the bathhouse. “Things have been so hectic,” Beth said,
noting Peggy’s glance, “that I didn’t have time to change.”
“How is Susie?”
“Oh, fine. I sent her back to the cabin. These kids snap back so fast
they make you dizzy.” Beth unpinned her jaunty nurse’s cap and stowed
it, along with the rest of the uniform, in her closet. She donned a pair
of bedroom slippers, then lowered herself into an armchair the twin of
the one Peggy occupied.
Peggy marveled at the creamy perfection of the nurse’s bare shoulders.
Except for faint marks where straps had once masked Beth’s back from the
sun, her skin was pure golden smoothness. No, not really golden, Peggy
thought, but more a hue with just a hint of sunshine, a whisper, as
though the sunlight had been teasing the exposed nudity. There was a
mellow quality to the skin, and a ripe softness in the quality of the
nurse’s figure. Her breasts were full and richly curved. There was a
maturity to the comely hips. Her legs, crossed in front of her, were
unusually long. but shapely rather than slim.
“Well, Peggy,” she said, smiling, “do you want to tell me all about it?”
How explain to Beth? Better not even attempt it, Peggy thought.
“Oh—it’s just what we’ve already spoken of. New surroundings, new
people, new rules and responsibilities.” She added thoughtfully, “And
new experiences—just confusing—and a bit frustrating at times.”
“Is this camp much different from those at which you’ve worked?”