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—”
“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.