from the water and now even my underwear was dry.
“It’s so hot,” Valerie rubbed her forearm against her face. “I’m dripping.” Her blue pants were sweat stained in the back and there were large patches of dark stain under the arms of her pale blue shirt. She took off her hat and wiped sweat from her forehead.
“Me too,” Hope said.
They both looked at the water as if they had the same idea at the same time.
Roz shrugged her shoulders. “There’s nobody around for miles.” She pulled off her creek shoes and pulled her shirt over her head as the rest of us watched.
“What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah,” Charlene nodded. “No biggie.”
She stripped down leaving only Erica and me still dressed.
“What about you?” Hope asked me.
“Oh, it’s fine with me but I can tell you it will feel better later if you get out of your underwear too.”
I began to undress again, then Charlene decided it was her duty to direct even Erica.
“If you do not disrobe with the rest of us we’ll throw you in fully dressed.”
“I want to,” said Erica. “I really do. But … ”
“Come on. It’ll be fun,” Hope said, patting her arm. “If I can do it, you can do it.”
“You all go in first and I’ll follow. But you can’t look at me.” Erica folded her arms.
The sun was blasting hot. No breeze stirred the willows at this time of day. We stripped bare and ran naked to the water. With squeals, we hit the cold water and ran splashing like puppies until we reached the deeper part and dipped down beneath the surface where we swam and swam. We all headed for the rock ledges and soon Erica was behind us doggie paddling her way across the narrow channel.
I led them to the spot where there was a handhold. I hauled myself out first and helped the others, dripping and scrambling. Erica was the last.
She reached up and took my hand.
“I never felt so free in my whole life,” she said. A big smile lit up her face. Her hair hung in wet strands grazing her shoulders. “What if you can’t pull me up?” She rested her right foot against the rock.
“Push up with your feet while I pull you. And use your left hand on this ledge. Right here,” I guided Erica’s left hand until she grabbed the rock.
“This exercise will help you develop climbing fingers,” I smiled down at Erica reassuringly.
“Just close your eyes when I come up out of the water. I don’t want anyone looking at me.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Erica. We’re not beauty queens here, Nobody cares what you look like.” Charlene again, the executive.
“Val’s a beauty queen,” said Hope.
“Not any more I’m not,” said Valerie.
With a grunt and a splash, Erica pulled herself up and onto the rock ledge. Water cascaded off her in a rush. The sun hit her body as she crawled over to a flat place and stretched out her stomach. The rock was warm. She lay there, her breathing shallow, with the sun on her back.
“Oh the hell with it,” she said as we lay there quietly soaking up the sun like turtles lined up on a log.
With an intake of breath, Erica raised herself onto her knees and then stood straight up, arms raised toward the sky. “Here I am. Take it or leave it.”
“You look just like a Rubens,” I told her quietly. “A beautiful, lush, full-bodied womanly Rubens.”
“What happened to that woman? When did we decide that emaciated was beautiful?” Hope asked.
“When gay fashion designers wanted their clothes to look like they were hanging on a clothes hanger and not on a body. Don’t think just because I’ve always been thin that I’ve always loved my body. I don’t know one woman who wouldn’t change her body in some way. The models I knew all thought there was something wrong with the way they looked.”
“I blame Hugh Heffner. The old letch.” Erica laughed but there was an edge of resentment in her voice, too.
We sat there quietly. I thought about a study I’d read. When men were asked to look in a mirror
“It’s so hot,” Valerie rubbed her forearm against her face. “I’m dripping.” Her blue pants were sweat stained in the back and there were large patches of dark stain under the arms of her pale blue shirt. She took off her hat and wiped sweat from her forehead.
“Me too,” Hope said.
They both looked at the water as if they had the same idea at the same time.
Roz shrugged her shoulders. “There’s nobody around for miles.” She pulled off her creek shoes and pulled her shirt over her head as the rest of us watched.
“What’s the big deal?”
“Yeah,” Charlene nodded. “No biggie.”
She stripped down leaving only Erica and me still dressed.
“What about you?” Hope asked me.
“Oh, it’s fine with me but I can tell you it will feel better later if you get out of your underwear too.”
I began to undress again, then Charlene decided it was her duty to direct even Erica.
“If you do not disrobe with the rest of us we’ll throw you in fully dressed.”
“I want to,” said Erica. “I really do. But … ”
“Come on. It’ll be fun,” Hope said, patting her arm. “If I can do it, you can do it.”
“You all go in first and I’ll follow. But you can’t look at me.” Erica folded her arms.
The sun was blasting hot. No breeze stirred the willows at this time of day. We stripped bare and ran naked to the water. With squeals, we hit the cold water and ran splashing like puppies until we reached the deeper part and dipped down beneath the surface where we swam and swam. We all headed for the rock ledges and soon Erica was behind us doggie paddling her way across the narrow channel.
I led them to the spot where there was a handhold. I hauled myself out first and helped the others, dripping and scrambling. Erica was the last.
She reached up and took my hand.
“I never felt so free in my whole life,” she said. A big smile lit up her face. Her hair hung in wet strands grazing her shoulders. “What if you can’t pull me up?” She rested her right foot against the rock.
“Push up with your feet while I pull you. And use your left hand on this ledge. Right here,” I guided Erica’s left hand until she grabbed the rock.
“This exercise will help you develop climbing fingers,” I smiled down at Erica reassuringly.
“Just close your eyes when I come up out of the water. I don’t want anyone looking at me.”
“Oh for God’s sake, Erica. We’re not beauty queens here, Nobody cares what you look like.” Charlene again, the executive.
“Val’s a beauty queen,” said Hope.
“Not any more I’m not,” said Valerie.
With a grunt and a splash, Erica pulled herself up and onto the rock ledge. Water cascaded off her in a rush. The sun hit her body as she crawled over to a flat place and stretched out her stomach. The rock was warm. She lay there, her breathing shallow, with the sun on her back.
“Oh the hell with it,” she said as we lay there quietly soaking up the sun like turtles lined up on a log.
With an intake of breath, Erica raised herself onto her knees and then stood straight up, arms raised toward the sky. “Here I am. Take it or leave it.”
“You look just like a Rubens,” I told her quietly. “A beautiful, lush, full-bodied womanly Rubens.”
“What happened to that woman? When did we decide that emaciated was beautiful?” Hope asked.
“When gay fashion designers wanted their clothes to look like they were hanging on a clothes hanger and not on a body. Don’t think just because I’ve always been thin that I’ve always loved my body. I don’t know one woman who wouldn’t change her body in some way. The models I knew all thought there was something wrong with the way they looked.”
“I blame Hugh Heffner. The old letch.” Erica laughed but there was an edge of resentment in her voice, too.
We sat there quietly. I thought about a study I’d read. When men were asked to look in a mirror
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