Groups ofgirls, two and three friends together, singles on their own, familieswith men and boys as well -- a surprising number of men and boys. Almosteveryone wore their swimwear -- openly or under tee-shirts or sundresses.I would have enjoyed the view of the girls, maybe even worked up my nerveto talk with perhaps one of the loners. I thought I might have evenrecognized some girls from school; I wasn't sure, though. But the memoryof the girl gaggle's mockery kept haunting me. The humiliation feltalmost like a drug.There were two series of lines. Signs indicated that one was for thosealready with membership passes, while the other was for the sales booths.I didn't know which to use. I got out that membership card, and did mybest to read it through, despite my mind jumping around. It apparentlywas a genuine membership card.I got in a line for the ticket booths. I was having serious secondthoughts about trying out Bikini Beach, after the mocking of the girls.It occurred to me. " I ain't no baby, Pa," Ida Mae protested. Her eyes were glued on the passing landscape at the same time her ears listened to every word her parents said. Her mother gave her a little squeeze. "Can we ride in this here car again tomorrow, Pa?" We sure can, Punkin," Harley promised his daughter with a laugh. "And the day after that too, if we want." She grinned and gave him a happy little nod he couldn't see.They drove in silence until they onto the black top highway and then headed on in to town. He stopped in front of the hotel and they went in. The desk clerk met them as they came through the entrance. "I have to have your key back, since you won't be staying, folks." He looked worriedly at Harley."Who says we won't be stayin'?" he asked the clerk."I do," a voice said from behind them.Harley turned and found he was facing the town marshal with his rifle pointed at Harley's middle. The hammer was pulled back, cocking it for the first shot. Harley didn't argue as the marshal expected,.
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