SEVEN

Except for the uneasiness she still felt in Mike’s presence, Peggy’s tranquil new state persisted. She had avoided both the husky-voiced redhead and the slim, elegant Lilian since that scene in their cabin, but now, two days later, she knew an encounter with Lilian was inevitable.

Peggy was trudging uphill behind an assemblage of berry-colored hikers weighed down with cooking utensils, canteens, bedding and knapsacks. Peggy herself was carrying on her back a load of food and hardware that would have crushed a mule. Lilian, a hundred paces ahead, was leading the procession.

Peggy urged on a couple of stragglers, then paused to light a cigarette, shifted her load to the other hand, considering the possibility of avoiding Lilian even now. But that would be silly, she chided herself, as the girls made their way along the winding gravel road, past sloping fields, old farmhouses, huge barns sometimes bright red, sometimes weathered colorless by wind and rain and time.

Most of the dwellings were painted white. The troop paused to admire one such house. It sat near the road on a carpet of thick green grass, decorated with shrubbery and playful calico cats, perfumed by wild rose and lilac bushes, surrounded by stretching acres of rich brown land.

Traffic was exceedingly sparse. Once a pickup truck came barreling down the road and passed the campers. The driver honked and waved—to the delight of the youngsters, who called greetings and flailed their arms in the air. In a flurry of dust and gravel, the truck disappeared around a curve, leaving the girls alone once more. They chattered and sang, marching along at a comfortable pace.

At last they reached the Allister farmhouse, where they were to replenish their water supply. They climbed a slope, rounded the house and clustered around the pump in the back. The pump squeaked and groaned as the girls took turns filling canteens and water jugs.

While the girls pumped, Peggy’s eyes roamed the rolling countryside. Idly she wondered if she would like to live on a farm, or at least out in the open, and knew instantly she would not.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

Peggy whirled, and stood speechless.

Standing in front of her was that—that delivery boy. The one she had met in the woods.

“Hi,” he said, a lopsided grin spread across his face. “Well, don’t look so surprised. I’m Kirby Davis, remember? And this is Aunt Lelia’s place.” He laughed. “She always insists the girls stop here for water—makes her feel as though she’s still part of camp.”

Peggy noticed how the sun glinted in his crisp hair.

“Nice view, isn’t it?” he said, nodding toward the fields at which Peggy had been gazing. “You know, most city people who come out here think they would like to stay forever. It’s so quiet and peaceful, they say. But inside a week, they would be straining at their collars to get back home to their sidewalks and soot. People today just don’t seem able to live with themselves. They have to have someone or something else to—” He stopped. “What’s the matter?”

Peggy was staring at Kirby Davis.

“You,” she said, “were carrying apple butter, right?”

“That’s right. Aunt Lelia’s best. She—”

“A heavy load of it, too.”

“You’re not kidding. Thought I’d break my back.”

“That was a peculiar way to deliver it.” Peggy pursed her lips. “Do you mean to say that you carried it over the fields and through the woods—all the way to camp—?”

The fellow chuckled. “I’m not that crazy!”

“Well,” said Peggy, “what were you doing in the woods, then? That’s a funny place for a guy to be—sneaking around in the woods, right on the edge of a girl’s camp!”

He gaped. “Say, you don’t think—I mean, are you trying to tell me I’m a Peeping Tom or something?” The idea seemed inordinately amusing to him. He broke into a guffaw, slapped his knobby knee. “For your information, lady,” he sputtered, “our car ran out of gas about a mile from the main gate. But through the woods it was only a couple of hundred yards to the lodge. So I took the box of stuff and legged it to your kitchen.” He guffawed again. “Excuse me for laughing, but ... Peeping Tom! I’ll be damned!”

“A likely story,” Peggy said quietly. “Why didn’t you just borrow some gas at the camp, then drive the truck in? That would have been easier than carrying fifty pounds of loaded jars, wouldn’t it?”

Kirby scowled. “You’re not being serious, are you?”

“Hell, yes. Intruders are not welcome around girls’ cabins, you know.”

“But I wasn’t intruding. I felt like such a jerk, running out of gas and all, that I thought I’d better have the apple butter with me in order to soften up your chef. It was from him that I had to borrow a can, and a siphon. It was his car I expected to get some gas from—and did. Maybe,” said Kirby, “it seems silly now, but—”

“Oh, never mind,” Peggy said. This fellow didn’t look much like a Peeping Tom, anyway. His lean face with its crooked smile was much too frank and open. His tall body, lanky and rather knobby at the joints, struck her as rather attractive. “I was just kidding.”

“Sure.” He was quite ready to forgive and forget. “What did you say your name was?”

“Peggy Matthews,” she told him.

“How do you do, Peggy.”

“Well,” she said, “the kids are about finished loading up on your water. I guess we’d better be moving on. We have a way to go yet.” She waved to Lilian, who blew her whistle. The campers started marching off, some calling goodbye to Kirby.

“Peggy—”

She halted, and he walked toward her.

“Were you thinking you would like to live in the country?”

Anger flashed through her. “No,” she said. “Although it would be nice to be able to wander around for a while where no one would bother me.”

Kirby’s brown eyes widened. He turned, walked away without speaking.

Peggy gazed after him. Why had she been so rude? Was she that fed up with the male sex?

During the hour-long walk from the Allister farm to the campsite, Peggy forgot about Kirby Davis. Stew simmered over the open fire and was eaten. The utensils were rinsed in a nearby stream and boiled in a big black cooking pot. Games were played, stories told.

At last Peggy lay wrapped in her blankets, her thoughts drifting back to her last evening with Beth. She felt as though she and Beth had discussed in detail all the things that had been pulling at Peggy’s mind, her sense of relief and well-being was so great. It was hard for her to realize that nothing at all had actually changed.

But at least she could laugh at herself now when she remembered how anxious she had been to test lesbian love. She realized she had been behaving in quite as sex-preoccupied a fashion as Ted, whom she condemned for it.

She still did wonder sometimes about making love with another woman, especially when she recalled Mike’s massaging hands on her back—and even more especially, the night of illicit pleasure in the Pillbox. But she knew now that what she wanted and needed—much more than a bedmate—was a friend.

Just then she glimpsed a figure moving among the sleeping campers. She twisted her head to watch Lilian coming toward her, picking her way quietly and carefully among the scattered bedrolls.

“One of the major catastrophes of camp counseling,” said Lilian, as she sat down at Peggy’s feet, “is the lack of privacy. You’re always watching, or being watched.”

Peggy sat up, hugged her knees. All right, so here was Lilian. Might as well be as friendly as possible. “Got a cigarette handy?”

Lilian lit one, passed it to Peggy.

Peggy smoked calmly, waiting for Lilian to go on but she, too, had fallen silent. The only sounds were from the crickets and the rippling stream some fifty yards away. Then in the distance, a dog howled. One of the campers stirred restlessly. After the girl had settled down, Lilian spoke again.

“I’m glad of this chance to talk, Peggy. At camp we’re always so busy. We never get together for long. And there’s practically no opportunity to be alone—one advantage of these hideous sleepouts,” she said with a wry laugh.

“You don’t like them?” Peggy was shocked.

“Do you? What is there to like? Except that it gets us away from camp routine—which can be even more hideous.”

There was no moon, and the stars did not cast enough light for Peggy to make out the expression on Lilian’s face. But she was uncomfortably aware that Lilian was staring toward her. Lilian was shrewd and alert, and had been working at this camp for several years. Surely, if the place were in the slightest tainted by lesbianism, Lilian would know it. Unquestionably, for instance, she would know about Mike, and this would explain her coldness toward Mike. It would also explain why she had not encouraged chumminess between Mike and Peggy; no doubt Lilian had been suspicious of Mike’s intentions and had wanted Peggy to be away from her influence. It would explain, too, why Lilian had held herself rather aloof from Peggy since stumbling on Mike massaging her with liniment. All these thoughts were in Peggy’s mind as she felt Lilian’s stare on her. No doubt she strongly suspected that Peggy had given way to temptation.

Her next words confirmed Peggy’s suspicions.

“The thing that beats me,” Lilian said, “is that you seem pretty thick with Mike.”

“I was,” Peggy said. “I don’t see much of her any more.”

“But what did you ever see in a girl like that? God—she’s not even a girl. She’s a—a lady wrestler. Peggy, for your own good, there are some things I ought to tell you about her.”

“Really?”

“I—”

Lilian hushed. One of the campers was tossing about in her nearby bedroll.

Lilian waited. The girl sat up, rubbed her eyes. She looked around, noticed the counselors close by, and reached for her flashlight. Peggy and Lilian sat quietly as she tiptoed toward them. They recognized her as the cute blond ten-year-old, Susie.

“Miss Peggy,” she began in a sleepy voice, “I have to go to the bathroom.”

Peggy grinned in the darkness. “You do, hey? Well,” she said unwinding herself from her blankets, “I guess we’d better take a walk.” Peggy stood up, slipped on her shoes. She took Susie by the hand.

As they tripped their way toward the brush surrounding the sleepers, the girl spoke. “Do you think I could go on the next overnight, Miss Peggy?”

“I’m not sure, Susie. I didn’t know you liked it that much. I’ll bear you in mind, and we’ll talk about it later, okay?”

The girl nodded, temporarily satisfied.

Peggy patiently killed time while Susie went behind what she considered a proper bush. When she had emerged, she said, “I’m sorry to be such a baby about the dark. But I am, that’s all. I’m afraid of it.”

As they returned to the sleeping area, Susie was still talking. “Are you and Miss Lilian going to sit up all night?”

“Of course not, Susie. We just had some things to discuss.”

“I’m glad,” the girl said with obvious relief. She hesitated a moment because they had come to Peggy’s bedroll, where Lilian was still sitting. “You see,” Susie began, “I want to—” She stopped, took another approach. “Would it be all right—I mean, well, I wondered if maybe I could move my blankets close to you because—”

Lilian said, “Oh, nonsense.”

“You’re not afraid of sleeping out here, are you, Susie?” Peggy asked.

“Well, kinda,” the girl admitted.

“Why do you want to come on more overnight hikes if you don’t like them?” Peggy wanted to know.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like them—I said I was a little afraid. You told us that good campers aren’t afraid.” She took a deep breath. “Maybe after a couple more overnights I’ll be a good camper like you and Miss Lilian.”

Peggy stood smiling as Lilian led the girl to her bedroll, and tucked her in. Then Peggy crawled into her own blankets and lay staring through the pine boughs at the star patterns in the inky sky. After a while she was lulled to sleep by the serenading crickets.

She was awakened by a noise. It sounded like someone sobbing. Her first impulse was to reach over and switch on the light, but then she sat up. Those were sobs all right, coming from one of the girls.

Peggy’s eyes combed the dark lumps that were campers curled in their bedrolls. She made out Lilian cradling a form, and immediately rose to join her.

“It’s all right,” Lilian snapped, as Peggy neared the spot. Lilian moved away from the still sobbing girl, and Peggy saw that it was Susie. “She was having a nightmare, that’s all,” Lilian said. “You didn’t have to bother. She’ll be fine in a couple of minutes.”

Peggy kneeled. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, Susie. Miss Lilian is right here in case anything happens. You go to sleep now. And no more bad dreams.” Susie stopped crying. Peggy pulled the covers around the girl and stood up.

“Lucky thing I was awake,” Lilian whispered. “I’m just not sleepy. Never am on these outdoor jaunts.”

They waited a few moments. Susie seemed quiet. Peggy started to walk toward her blankets. Lilian walked along beside her.

“I was telling you about Mike, before,” Lilian reminded Peggy. “Now that we’re both up, I might as well continue. You see, that girl can do others a lot of harm. She looks like one of those candid, honest types, but she can invent the most awful gossip. Of course, that’s far from the worst of it. She ... Susie!”

The blond ten-year-old stood before them, clutching the bedroll she dragged behind her.

Lilian laughed. So did Peggy. “Oh, I guess I might as well let her sleep alongside me.”

“Think you should?” Lilian frowned. “It’s against the rules. Special privileges, and all that—”

Peggy was as concerned for herself as for Susie. With the child so close, it would be impossible for Lilian to discuss Mike further, or probe Peggy’s relations with Mike. What would happen if Lilian ever discovered that Mike had doped Peggy and abused her on a night as dark as this one—and, worse, had made Peggy like it?

“It’s more important that Susie get some sleep than that vague rules be observed,” Peggy said. “Go ahead, Susie. Spread your blankets and stretch out.”

“Peggy, you’re absolutely right,” Lilian said, smiling, and strolled off to her own bedroll.

But little Susie was not satisfied. About to fall asleep again, Peggy felt the girl stir, then crawl right in under Peggy’s covers. The compact young form snuggled right up close to Peggy’s body and contentedly sighed.

Peggy smiled in the dark, and kissed Susie’s sweet-smelling blond tresses.

An emotion of peace and profound happiness stole over Peggy. How wonderful thus to be needed and trusted by a child. Of all the gifts, Peggy thought at that moment, the greatest was to be a mother.

Peggy frowned.

Were lesbians ever mothers?

* * *

The next time Peggy woke, the sun was peeping over a far hill. Birds were calling to the campers from the trees.

One by one the girls opened their eyes, rubbed at them, and sat up, still huddling under their covers, hiding from the early-morning chill. Several campers were surprised to note Susie peeking out from Peggy’s blankets.

Within half an hour everyone was up, dressed, and busy at assigned tasks: tying up bedrolls, collecting firewood, clearing the fire circle, setting out dishes, and preparing breakfast.

Campers and counselors were wolfing down hot chocolate when the camp station wagon pulled up. The door swung open and Pam Michaels, Mike’s older sister, slid out.

Pam was a slight girl—not much over five feet, and very small-boned. Despite her frail appearance, she had Mike’s red hair, freckled complexion and other characteristics. She strode over to the campers with the gait of a master sergeant.

“Hi, gang,” she said in her surprisingly husky voice.

The young campers chorused answering greetings as the assistant director joined Peggy and Lilian. Lilian walked to the fire, poured herself some more chocolate.

“Hiya,” Pam said. “How’s it going?”

“Pretty good,” Lilian said. “But we still have the long walk home.”

“Looks like you’ll have a nice day for it,” Pam said. “Radio says it won’t get too hot.” She turned toward the girls. “Let’s get a move on,” she called. “Where are the bedrollers?”

Three campers set down their plates and went with Pam to load the bedding into the wagon. When they had finished, Pam rejoined the group.

“Too bad you aren’t ready,” she said, grinning. “I could drive you all back.”

“Oh ... you say that every time, Miss Pam,” one of the children groaned. “Some day maybe we’ll fool you.”

Pam grinned and tousled the youngster’s hair. She helped herself to a cup of hot chocolate.

Chickie Jones, an oversized eleven-year-old who was the star athlete of the Intermediate group, pushed up to Pam. “I don’t see why Susie should get special privileges, Miss Pam. I’ve been at camp four summers. And I’m not afraid of the dark, so why—”

“What’s this?” Pam snapped. “Special privileges?”

“That’s right, Miss Pam,” chorused a number of girls. And one of them shouted, “Susie slept with Miss Peggy all night!”

Peggy did not feel called upon to make excuses. In fact, she laughed. But not before she had noticed the glance exchanged between Pam and Lilian. Then both girls turned their gazes on Peggy.

“Actually,” Lilian said, “the child slept next to Peggy, not with her.”

“Oh, no,” Peggy said. “She crept into my bedroll. We slept together, all right, but I don’t see what’s such a special privilege about that!”

“Don’t you?” Pam’s gray-eyed stare was boring holes in Peggy. She knew there would be no further discussion in front of the campers. But that glare of Pam’s promised a session about the matter at the next counselors’ meeting. Pam turned away, was suddenly all smiles as she faced the campers. “Forget it, kids. It won’t happen again.” She finished her chocolate and strode toward the station wagon, calling huskily, “See you at camp.” She left amid calls to “Take us with you,” and “We want to ride, too!”

When Pam had gone, Susie walked over and sat down next to Peggy.

“You know,” Susie said gravely, “I think I liked Miss Pam better when she was just a counselor. She used to be lots of fun.”

“Mean to say you were at camp before?”

“Sure. But I was too young for overnight hikes.” Susie paused. “I guess Miss Pam is still kinda nice.” Then in the same breath she said, “Isn’t Miss Lilian beautiful?”

Peggy glanced toward Lilian who now was standing near the glowing coals. She was wearing pencil-slim red slacks and a matching cardigan over a white blouse. Her black hair was held together with a rubber band at the back of her head and fell in a single long curl down her back.

She certainly did not look as though she had spent the last twenty-four hours outdoors, Peggy mused. Yet as handsome as she appeared, there was an artificiality about her get-up that struck a jarring note amid the natural beauty of the surroundings.

But to Susie, who was patiently waiting for an answer, Peggy said, “Oh, yes. Lilian is quite beautiful, Susie.”

“You know,” the girl confided, “I didn’t like her very much at first. But after you get to know her, she’s not so bad. Especially if she likes you.”

“Hey, Susie,” one of the other campers yelled. “You’re supposed to be helping.”

* * *

The little blonde flashed a smile at Peggy and ran off, all flying legs and streaming hair.

Back at camp, Peggy supervised while the girls scoured the cooking utensils in the large metal sink. They washed and rinsed and dried until they were given permission for a quick dip before dinner. Peggy gladly hurried them off to their cabins to change into their suits, then headed for the lounge where she sank into a straw-backed chair. She could not remember when she had been so exhausted. If only she could sit there and nap, she thought. She closed her eyes dreamily, but opened them when she heard footfalls. She saw Mike walk through the doorway and fish a coke out of the cooler.

Peggy flushed at the sight of the redhead, wondered what to say—how to say it. Dozens of remarks spun around her brain.

Mike held up the frosty bottle. “Want one?” she asked.

“Please,” Peggy answered, glad for the ice-breaker.

Mike reached for another bottle, then sauntered across the room to hand it to Peggy.

“How was your night?”

“Not bad,” Peggy said. “I enjoyed it. I think the kids did, too.”

Mike took a swig of soda. “By the way, a bit of news,” she said. “Your Ted called. I told him you weren’t here, but I don’t think he believed me.”

“Next time he calls,” Peggy said, “tell him I went to Patagonia.”

Mike frowned. “You mean that, Peg?” In her huskiest tone, she added, “He doesn’t seem so bad. I talked to him a while. I thought he sounded like a lot of fun.”

“Like a gorilla,” Peggy said. “Patagonia,” she repeated, tilting up her bottle. “Tell him I went there.”

“Whatever you say.”

Peggy glanced around the room. Counselors were drifting in for sodas and cigarettes before the evening meal. Some were still dressed in their swim-duty bathing suits, their bare limbs glistening.

Peggy glanced at her own legs stretched gracefully in front of her. The days of sun had turned them a tawny gold. She looked up and caught Mike’s eyes traveling down her thighs, too. Quickly, the redhead looked away. She thrust her bottle among the empties, then walked out of the lounge.

Peggy sat quietly, unthinkingly sipping her coke and staring at the pine trees outside the windows. A squirrel, halfway up a nearby oak, stared back. Peggy winked. The thing scampered out of sight.

Peggy sighed, rose, walked out of the lounge. She had suddenly become restless. Just outside the lodge she ran into Beth.

“Going swimming?” Peggy asked, noting the nurse’s suit.

“For a few minutes. Join me?”

Peggy’s eyes skimmed over Beth’s lightly clad body. The pale knit swimsuit showed off her curves to perfection, while its high neck and wide straps hid much of her nakedness. This was not the orange suit. It was of a light-blue material that clung to her well-rounded body, caressing it, molding her fully blossomed breasts and flowing hip line.

Peggy’s eyes darted to Beth’s face. “I’d love to,” she said in answer to the nurse’s question, “but I’m just too damned tired. Hiked eight miles today, you know.”

Beth smiled. “Rest yourself, then. And remember, whenever you feel like it, drop by at the Pillbox.”

Did Beth mean that or was she just being polite? Peggy hesitated. “Okay,” she blurted. “Maybe tonight.”