Firefly Beach (17 page)

He took my clothing off slowly. I was sort of embarrassed. I tried to cover myself and he delicately moved my hands away. I think I was blushing from head to toe. Then he undressed and I was even more embarrassed. I wanted to look, but I kept turning away, giggling. He thought that was sweet.

Then he laid me down, gently separated my legs, and, well…right here on my special beach, we made love.

It was nicer than I had imagined. See I’ve, you know, played with myself sometimes, so I sort of thought I knew what to expect. But it was way more pleasurable than that…the feel of him, the smell of him. It was amazing.

This beach will never be the same again.

Love,

Katherine

Beth slammed the diary closed, threw it on the bed, and began to pace the room. Stopping abruptly, she put her head in her hands.

The Hollywood-style depiction of young love as being gentle and pleasurable infuriated her. It did not happen that way for everyone. Memories wriggled out of their hiding places like maggots on a dead mouse. All of a sudden, Beth despised Katherine and wished she’d never set foot on the beach. As if aware of her anguish, the firefly appeared, floating outside of the window.

“Get out of here,” Beth screamed. “I don’t want to talk to you tonight!” It was as if the wounded animal inside of her had awoken, with one final breath, to face its foe.

The firefly shimmered and then drifted away.

Beth continued to pace. She thought about how Katherine had pushed her father out of her life. “If only my dad had been there for me,” she whispered in resentment. He would have protected her honor, offered her guidance, or at the very least made her less susceptible to the admiration fatherless girls often felt for older men.

His name was Larry. He was almost thirty and Beth was eighteen. She met him the summer she graduated from high school. He was a bartender where she worked, a real charmer. All of the waitresses had a crush on him.
Flock of Seagulls
hair, tan skin, and a smile that would melt a witch’s heart; he was hard to resist.

Larry took an interest in Beth shortly after she began to work at the restaurant. She had indulged in dozens of crushes over the years, but she never had a boyfriend, so the attention was especially alluring. One evening he offered to drive her home after work. Instead they ended up at his place.

They sat on the couch for a while before he made his move. He was rough and unpleasant. His kisses were harsh and he tasted like cigarettes. Beth squirmed. Her resistance seemed to turn him on. She wanted to leave, but she didn’t want him to be mad, so she stayed. He pulled her off the couch and led her to the bedroom. She looked back at the door, but he held her arm and coaxed her to follow him, all the while leering at her breasts. Before she knew it, she was in his bedroom, her clothing scattered around the bed.

She closed her eyes and turned her face away from him as he climbed on top of her. His breath smelled; his face was coarse. She wanted to be anywhere else except there, but she wanted him to like her. Pinned and suffocating, she was not at all aroused, so it was very painful. It seemed to drag on forever, and she kept praying it would end. When he finally dismounted, she rolled over and cried quietly.

And that was how Beth lost her virginity.

She saw Larry several more times in the weeks that followed. The sex was unpleasant every time, but she made herself available anyway. She enjoyed the feeling of being wanted, and she knew he would discard her if she didn’t put out.

One evening, when they were lying in his bed shortly after having sex, she looked up and saw Larry’s roommate smirking at her, as if he were waiting for his turn. Larry and the roommate exchanged a look that frightened Beth. Larry got up and made his way to exit the room.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Beth announced quickly, her heart pounding.

Larry gestured toward the bathroom door. Beth stared defiantly at the roommate until he turned around long enough for her to pull on her shirt and shorts minus underwear and bra. She thought she saw him peeking over his shoulder, but she focused on dressing as quickly as possible.

Beth locked the bathroom door and struggled with the window. It was a short drop from the first floor apartment to the bushes below. Beth climbed down, scrambled out of the bushes, and ran as fast as she could to the bus stop. She had a few dollars stashed in her back pocket, but she had left her purse behind. Beth watched nervously, looking up the road for the bus and back toward the street where Larry lived. She decided not to wait. She ran for half a mile and hid out at another bus stop. Thankfully, the bus came within five minutes. She boarded the bus, exhausted and relieved.

Beth never returned to the restaurant, not even to collect her last paycheck. Just before she left for Albuquerque, a check for $34.15 came in the mail. She tore it up on the spot.

The older Beth stared out the window and watched the light creature drift away. She seethed with hatred. The memories continued to surface and she stuffed them down one by one until they were silenced. She slammed her hand flat against the wall two times. Then she raced down the stairs, retreated to the kitchen, and poured herself a drink.

* * * *

During the weekend, Beth avoided both the diary and the painting of the red-haired girl. She took walks, sketched a lighthouse ten miles up the coast, and began to paint the islands visible from her backyard. She stayed very busy, keeping her mind as occupied as possible. At night she had a drink or took a sleeping pill, trying to numb herself to sleep.

On Sunday night she endured a terrible dream. In this dream she flew along a tree-lined road in the late afternoon. The sun was setting. She soared, seeming to turn along with the curves of the road under no power of her own. She heard a car approaching in the distance. She tried to turn off the road, but she had no control over her body. The car continued to close the gap between them, its tires screeching on the curves. It began to grow dark and Beth longed to stop flying and rest. Suddenly, the car came around the corner going eighty miles an hour. Its headlights blinded her right before impact.

Beth jolted up in bed early Monday morning, sweating from the dream. She took another sleeping pill and went back to sleep.

* * * *

At 10:21 a.m. the incessant ringing of her cell phone awoke her. Her head pounded, but she dragged herself out of bed and grabbed the phone off of the dresser.

“Hello?” she said. Her scratchy voice was barely audible.

“Is this Beth LaMonte?”

“Yes, who’s calling?”

“Dr. Peter Stephens from Seattle.”

All at once, Beth grew alert. She fumbled for a tablet and a pen. “Dr. Stephens. Thank you for returning my call.”

“What can I do for you?” he asked pleasantly.

“Uh…” Beth took a moment to jog her brain and organize her thoughts. “I’m looking for Sarah Wylder. I believe she was a student of yours in the late seventies.”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Ah, yes, Serious Sarah.” The gentleman chuckled warmly. “She hated it when I called her that. I was her advisor. Good old Sarah, a brilliant young lady.”

Beth’s heart quickened and her face flushed. Finally a phone call that amounted to something, a true lead. “Oh, Dr. Stephens, that is wonderful news. Do you happen to know how I would get a hold of her now?”

“I’m afraid we didn’t stay in touch. When she started medical school, she hardly had time to phone her mother, I would imagine.”

“Medical school?”

“Yes. She went to Ohio State in Columbus. I suppose if she’s practicing you could find her in the American Medical Association listings.”

That idea had already raced through Beth’s mind. In fact, she realized that had she simply Googled Sarah’s name to begin with, it would probably have shown up on a website. Beth wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it. She pulled up Google and typed in
Sarah Wylder
. The charming professor prattled on about Sarah – how diligent she was, and that in spite of being a very serious young lady, she had a soft side that emerged now and again.

With one click of the mouse, Beth located a website for the Cleveland Women’s Care Facility. And on staff, Dr. Sarah G. Wylder, a gynecologist.

“I found her,” Beth exclaimed. “Thank you so very much, professor.”

“You found her already? Oh, you kids and your computers. I hate to think what you’d find if you looked me up.”

Beth grinned. “Would you like me to?” She started typing.

“No, no,” Dr. Stephens protested. “I think I’d rather not know.”

“I bet it’s all good,” Beth teased.

“That’s all right. I’m glad I could be of service. Where is Sarah, by the way? Perhaps I should drop her a line and see if she remembers an old friend.”

“She’s in Cleveland.” Beth read the phone number to the professor. Then they exchanged goodbyes.

As soon as Beth hung up, she dialed the number.

“Cleveland Women’s Care, how may I help you?”

Beth was almost giddy. She had to slow her speech. “I’d like to speak with Dr. Wylder please.”

“Are you a physician?”

“Oh, no,” Beth explained. “It’s a personal matter.”

“Your name?”

“Beth LaMonte.”

“Hold please.”

Beth waited for several minutes before the young woman came on the line again. “I’m sorry, Dr. Wylder is with a patient at the moment. Can I take a message?”

Beth paused. Just how much information should she give? If Sarah and Katherine were on seriously bad terms, she may not be interested in talking with Beth. Beth didn’t want to lose the opportunity, so she kept it brief. “This is Beth LaMonte from Virginia Point, Maine. I…uh…Please just give her my number.”

The receptionist took down Beth’s number. “She’ll call you as soon as she’s available,” the young woman promised.

Beth hung up wondering how long that would be. She glanced at the bottom dresser drawer. The diary summoned her again. With all the exciting new developments in her quest, she could hardly be expected to refuse the enticement. She seemed to have forgotten how painful the last reading had been. Curiosity overcame her reservations. She retrieved the diary, went downstairs to make herself a snack, and then settled on the couch to read. She placed her cell phone on the coffee table along with a tablet and a pen in case Sarah returned her call.

Friday, September 5

Dear Diary:

It has been a busy week. School started. Sarah has been weird. I don’t know if she can tell, but I don’t feel comfortable sharing it with her. I guess I am kind of walking around like a woman with a secret – an amazing, beautiful secret. All these girls at school, they seem like children to me now.

I am going to try to get together with John this weekend. It is a lot harder now that school has started. It is even worse than when Dad was looking over our shoulders. On the other hand, maybe I could skip…No, Sarah would notice, and the school might call Dad. I’d better play it safe. If he finds out, he’ll send John away. I could not bear that.

Love,

Katherine

Friday, September 12

Dear D:

Sorry. It has been hard to get time to write. I saw John on Sunday. Dad was sailing, so we took another trip to Acadia. John drove Dad’s car. Not with permission, of course, but Dad doesn’t give me any freedom, so sometimes I just have to take without asking.

John pulled off to the side of the road along the way and we did it in the back of the car. It was even better. It got kind of steamy in the car. We were sweating on Dad’s leather seats. Serves him right.

Anyway, I am totally in love. If Dad sends John away now, I’ll follow him. I’ll go around the world just to be with him. He was made for me in heaven. I really believe that. Because nothing short of divine could feel this good.

L,

K

Sunday, September 14

Did I mention that I am in love? John loves me too. I’m sure of it.

We did it again on the beach yesterday. I’m surprised we were able to sneak down here. I gave Dad another “I’m going to Sarah’s” excuse.

Oh, the things this beach has seen. I can’t stop smiling. Dad noticed. I told him there was a cute boy sitting next to me in my English class. Since he has not seen me hanging out by the garage, I think he buys it. You know, flaky teenager, a new crush every week. He does not realize how grown up I am. He can’t accept it, me growing up. It would destroy him, I think. But that is not my problem. If I have to choose, I’ll choose John over Dad, so he had better not pull rank on me. He’ll be sorry if he does.

Katherine

Friday, September 19

Dear Diary:

I haven’t seen John all week. He said he would be gone over the weekend visiting his sister in New Jersey. I guess it is his nephew’s birthday. I wish I could go. I would love to meet his family. Unfortunately MY family would disapprove.

I miss him!

Love,

Katherine

Sunday, September 21

It has been a lonely weekend. I can’t bear another weekend like this. I miss him. How did I ever live without him? That seems like a lifetime ago, way far away when I was a little child collecting seashells. Now I have much more grown up things to do on the beach.

The pills have screwed up my period. It should have come during the week I took the green ones. But I started a new packet on Tuesday, almost a week ago. So it seems that now my period is suppressed altogether. I know that I followed the directions correctly, and I didn’t miss any pills.

I don’t want to have to go back to that dreadful doctor. This is a real pain in the ass.

Bye for now.