How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by C. Sprite

 

Chapter Two

 

I awoke as we pulled into a rest area in the morning. It was just after six and the sun was rising over the horizon. The driver announced that we'd be here for half an hour and then stepped off the bus and headed quickly towards the restaurant. I rubbed my eyes and followed several people inside.

After a light breakfast, consisting of a glass of orange juice and a Danish pastry, I walked to the rest stop's gift shop before heading for the bus, but I couldn't find the kind of elasticized bands that I normally use to hold my hair in a ponytail, or even anything close. Regular rubber bands hurt because they pull on individual hairs, so I had to settle for an iridescent plastic hair clip in the shape of a very large butterfly. Despite its obvious feminine appearance, I felt that it would make me look less like a girl than wearing my hair loose and having it cover my shoulders, back, and hanging down over my chest, because it would be hidden behind my head.

As I climbed into the bus, the driver said, "Just in time, Miss. We're all ready to go. Take your seat, please."

I didn't bother replying; I just smiled and just shrugged off his calling me 'Miss'. I took my seat, pulled my hair back, and fastened the brightly colored hair clip as the driver stood to count the passengers.

 

We pulled into Chicago a little after noontime. I had a hot dog at a stand in the terminal and then sat for a little over an hour until my next bus was ready to depart. The final leg of the trip took just an hour and five minutes, and as we neared my destination city I thought about my cousins. I wondered how much they had changed since I had seen them last. I knew that Suzanne had gone to college to become a dental hygienist, and then changed over to nursing after the first year, having decided that she didn't want to spend her working life staring into someone's open mouth. Nicole had joined the local police force right after high school and that made perfect sense to me. At close to six-feet, she seemed like the perfect candidate. I sure wouldn't give her any lip if she stopped me for a traffic infraction. Lizbeth was a year older than I was and a year ahead of me in school. I was going to be a junior for the next term so she would be entering her senior year. As Mom had said, Lizbeth and I had been very close during our vacation trips. I was hoping that we still had something in common or this was going to be one boring vacation trip.

 

I breathed a sigh of relief as the bus turned into the final bus terminal. I was tired of buses and glad to be here at last. As I stepped off the bus I heard voices screaming, "Jimmy! Jimmy!" I looked towards the sound of the voices and spotted two young women waving to me. They were both young and fairly short so I knew they must be Suzanne and Lizbeth. Since the older one was wearing a nurse's pantsuit uniform, it wasn't difficult to figure who was who. Another easy identifier was that Suzanne had blond hair, inherited from her mother, while Lizbeth had brunette hair like her father. Nicole was also a brunette, but in other respects it was difficult to believe that she was from the same gene pool. I'm not saying she was ugly, because it was just the opposite. She had a beautiful face, but when we were younger she was built like an Olympic triathlon competitor.

I gently pushed my way through the dozens of people milling about the bus, and reached my cousins. Lizbeth was the same height as me and Suzanne was about an inch taller. We hugged and kissed like cousins and then took a step back to look at each other and talk while the area slowly cleared of my fellow travelers. Lizbeth was wearing white shorts and a pale blue, sleeveless, summer top that left her midriff exposed. She had turned into a real beauty, with large, emerald green eyes and the face and body of a model. She reminded me a lot of Carmen Electra. Suzanne, on the other hand, hadn't changed very much from the last time that I had seen her. She was still one of the cutest blondes around, and I had always thought that she looked a lot like a young Debbie Reynolds.

"Jimmy, turn around," Suzanne said after we had talked for a few minutes.

I paused briefly, then turned so they could see my hair. I was sure I knew what prompted Suzanne's request.

Instead of receiving a comment about the length of my hair, all I got from Lizbeth was, "What are you wearing in your hair? Isn't that a little girl's hair clip?"

"It's a long story, but basically I lost my elastics and this was all I could find in a restaurant gift shop. It was either this, or wear it loose."

"You're braver than other guys. Most would just tie it in a knot before ever wearing a girl's hair clip."

"It's just a piece of plastic, not a declaration that I'm gay."

"You're right, Jimmy," Suzanne said matter-of-factly. "It's just a piece of plastic. Let's get your bags and we'll go to the house. You haven't been here before have you?"

"Nope. This is my first trip to see you guys since you moved from Massachusetts."

"You won't believe the great house that we have here," Lizbeth said. "Daddy's business has been doing fantastic. I hope that you brought your swimsuit."

"I did. Mom told me that you have a pool."

"It's not Olympic sized but it's large enough to do laps."

The other passengers from the trip had all gone by then, leaving us alone by the bus. I walked over and picked up my two bags then turned to follow Suzanne and Lizbeth. As we neared the car I said, "Hang on a minute. These bags seem to be too much too heavy."

Suzanne said, "Here, give me one."

"No, that's not what I mean. I can carry them okay. They just seem heavier than when I packed them."

"We're almost to the car," Lizbeth said. "Let's open them up and see if someone has taken your clothes out and filled your suitcases with piles of money."

"Sure," I said smiling at her joke, "that's highly likely."

Stopping next to the car I laid one of the suitcases down on its side and fished the key from my pocket. Unlocking the case, I lifted one side. Each half was protected by a stiff flap, which had to be unlatched, so I unclipped the flap next to me and flipped it over to the other side. My jaw dropped faster than the flap.

Lizbeth was the first to speak. "Your taste in clothes surprises me, Jimmy. After seeing your worn jeans and grungy old tee shirt, I never expected you to have such nice clothes in your suitcase." She reached down and lifted up a gray suede skirt. Holding it against me she said, "Not really your style though. You should think younger. This says twenty-five."

"Ha ha, very funny," I said angrily. "This isn't my suitcase."

Lizbeth giggled and folded the skirt, saying," What's the matter. It's only a piece of suede, not a declaration that you're gay." mimicking my comment about the hair clip only being a piece of plastic.

I put it back in the suitcase and closed the flap, then closed the top.

"Open the other one, Jimmy," Suzanne said.

I laid the second case down and unlocked it, then opened the case and lifted the flap on one side.

"Oh, Jimmy," Lizbeth said as she reached down again, "I love your taste in lingerie." She picked up a nightgown and held it against me. "I can't wait to see you in this tonight. You're so naughty."

Suzanne got a case of the giggles and couldn't stop giggling and laughing as she leaned against the car.

"Ha ha, very funny," I said again. "Somebody's got my suitcases and I got hers."

Lizbeth folded the nightgown and put it back. "I would say that you definitely got the better end of the deal. They look to be about your size too. You can try everything on when we get to the house so we can see if anything has to be altered. I have a sewing machine and I can make everything fit like it was made for you. I'll shorten your skirts and dresses so they don't look too old for you."

I closed the suitcase and stood up, ignoring her remark. It was usually best to ignore Lizbeth's remarks, a fact that I had forgotten until now. "I'll take these inside and see if anyone has turned in my cases."

Lizbeth wasn't about to let up just yet. "Oh, why bother the busy people here. I'm sure that you can make do with the things in the cases."

Suzanne was still giggling and leaning against the car for support. I grimaced, picked up the cases, and walked into the terminal. Waiting patiently until the ticket agent was done with his customer, I stepped up to the counter.

"Yes, Miss," the male clerk said. "What can I do for you today?"

I let the 'Miss' pass without comment. "I just arrived on the bus from Chicago. Someone apparently took my suitcases by accident and left me theirs."

"Mixed up bags, eh? Put them up on the counter."

After I did, the clerk carefully checked the outside of each case. "No name or address on the outside. The baggage claim tag indicates that this was the destination, so your bags must have been picked up by somebody that was on your bus. The bags are Samsonite brand so it's easy to confuse them. That company makes millions of suitcases, all the same sizes and colors."

"I understand. How do I go about getting my suitcases back?"

"Without a name and contact telephone number, we'll have to wait until they're turned in." The clerk took the first of the cases and opened it up. He carefully looked through the case, making notes on a form about the contents. After doing both sides he said, "Nothing in the case that would help us identify the owner." He went through the second case and said, "Nothing of any help in that one either. The clothes seem to be of very high quality so I'm sure that the owner is going to want them back, unless your things were nicer. I'll need some ID for the report."

He smiled pleasantly as I handed him my student ID card, and asked, "Are you staying locally, Miss?"

Ignoring the gender misidentification again, I said, "Yes, I'll be here all summer."

"I'm sure that it won't take that long to recover your suitcases, Miss. Do you have a phone number where you can be reached?"

He wrote down my aunt's number as I recited it, then smiled at me again.

"Okay, we'll call you as soon as we get your suitcases back. Here's your copy of the report, Miss James. Please call if you don't hear from us within thirty days. We might have tried and not been able to reach you."

I took the paper and thanked the clerk before turning and walking out of the terminal. As I approached Suzanne's car, I said, "I have to get some regular elastics for my hair. I've never been called 'Miss' so much in my life. They're even calling me Miss James."

Both Suzanne and Lizbeth started laughing again.

"What's so funny?"

"That enormous butterfly hair clip that you have in your hair makes it absolutely impossible to think of you as a male," Lizbeth said. "You might as well be wearing bright red lipstick, a fourteen-inch miniskirt, and high heels. Here, I have something that looks much more masculine." She reached into her purse, rummaged around a little, and produced a bright pink Scrunchie, a very wide piece of elasticized fabric that some girls use in their hair instead the tiny, thin, black, navy, or purple elastic bands that I always used. She held it out to me.

"Oh, you're funny," I said. "Why not just put a big bow on top of my head and do it right."

Both girls started laughing again. It was beginning to look like it would be a long summer.

 

It only took about fifteen minutes to reach the house. Suzanne and Lizbeth had finally stopped giggling once we left the bus terminal, but it didn't take much to set them off again. Several times I thought that Suzanne was going to drive off the road as tears rolled down her checks. We were only talking about the things that had happened on our vacations together, but I have to admit that some were pretty funny.

As we reached the house and stepped out of the car, Lizbeth grabbed my tee shirt lightly and made a face as she said, "Jimmy, I hope all your clothes aren't like these."

"What's wrong with them?" I asked, looking down to where she was holding my shirt.

"Jeans have a place in everyone's wardrobe, but you should normally wear regular slacks, and you should wear pullover shirts with collars instead of tee shirts. I hate tee shirts. I should take you shopping and get you some proper clothes."

"I like jeans and tee shirts. They're comfortable."

"Don't you want to be attractive to girls?"

"Sure."

"Are you really sure? You're not going to attract girls by dressing like a slob all the time."

"My clothes are clean."

"But you still look like a slob. With a thousand dollars I could outfit you so well that the girls would be falling over themselves to go out with you."

"A thousand dollars? Who has a thousand dollars?"

"You don't have to get everything at once. Start with a few things, and keep adding. Just stop buying jeans and tee shirts. At least start wearing pullover shirts with a collar instead of tees."

We had reached the front door by now, and as soon as Suzanne had unlocked and opened it, we followed her in. "Why don't you show Jimmy around, Liz? I'm going to change and then start dinner."

 

Lizbeth gave me a complete tour of the house after I called home to tell Mom that I had arrived safely. I didn't bother her with the story about the bus company losing my luggage because I felt that I'd get them back quickly, and Mom had enough to worry about.

The house was a very large two story colonial home with four enormous bedrooms on the top floor. There were also two bedrooms on the first floor near the kitchen. I suppose that they could have been intended for staff if a family had live-in servants such as a cook or nanny. Lizbeth showed me which of the two bedrooms I'd use while I was here.

A full basement, without interior walls other than for a bathroom and a small laundry room, looked out upon the back yard. It had a full kitchen and eating area, with the rest of the space devoted to three separate groups of couches and chairs. The basement was obviously designed for entertaining. Large patio doors overlooked the rear yard and pool, and I began to look forward to taking a swim in the cool, clear water which was as flat and placid as a mirror right then. From the rear yard, the house appeared to be a three-story building.

We were still standing by the patio doors when Suzanne came down from the upstairs kitchen carrying a large baking dish. She had changed out of her nurse's uniform and was wearing a pair of brown slacks and a crème colored blouse.

"Nicole made this casserole a couple of days ago. We just have to heat it up and we can eat. Liz, would you get the rolls from the upstairs kitchen? Better bring down some butter also."

While Lizbeth hurried upstairs I walked over to the kitchen area. "Anything I can do, Suz?"

"Not right now, hon. Wait, I take that back. You can help me set the table. The dishes are in that cupboard next to the refrigerator."

After the table was set and the casserole was warming, Suzanne brought a bottle of wine to the table and opened it. "Want some wine, Jimmy? We usually have a glass at dinner."

"What'll your mom and dad say if they come home and see me drinking wine. I'm only sixteen."

"You're old enough for a glass of wine at dinner. We've all been allowed some wine once we reached sixteen. I've heard that in Europe, kids start drinking wine when they first start school. Mommy and Daddy aren't here anyway. They had to fly to San Francisco this morning. Some emergency at the plastics plant out there. The production manager quit last night after having a fight on the phone with Daddy about something. They don't expect to be back for weeks. They'll stay out there until Daddy hires a new production manager and gets him situated."

"In that case I'd love to have a glass of wine," I said, smiling.

While we waited for the food we talked about our vacations again. Some things had us giggling and other things had us laughing so hard that tears rolled down our checks. While we were laughing at one particular event concerning the release of captured frogs inside the camp store, Nicole came down the stairs from the first floor. I stood up, smiling as she approached me, and we hugged. Nicole was as beautiful as I remembered, and just as tall. I could feel her strength when we hugged.

"Hi, Squirt," she said.

"Hi-- Nicole." I had nearly said Lurch.

"What's so funny?" she asked us as she took a seat and poured herself a glass of wine. "I heard you laughing all the way from my bedroom."

"We were talking about the time that we put frogs in the camp store at Lake Wallahi," I replied. "Remember how that old lady with the blue hair screamed when she reached for a green bell pepper and picked up a green bullfrog instead?"

We all started laughing as we remembered the prank. It led to a steady stream of conversation as we all told our version of how we recalled different things that had happened.

 

Dinner was excellent. During the meal I learned that Nicole had left the police force more than a year ago and opened a catering service. Her food was delicious, the prices fair, and the service excellent. Consequently, she was doing great. She had started out by cooking all the food here in the basement, but was now renting a building in town and operating out of that. She had five trucks and did wedding receptions, anniversary parties, class reunions, and literally almost anything that people needed a caterer for, including the occasional bachelor party.

Several times during the meal Suzanne had refilled everyone's glass from the open wine bottle. When it was finished, Nicole retrieved another and we kept drinking. Not being an experienced drinker, I was drinking the wine too fast. It only tasted like fizzy grape juice, after all.

While Suzanne and Nicole washed the dishes and cleaned up, Lizbeth and I found seats in one of the sofa groups and sat down to talk and drink our wine. Nicole and Suzanne joined us, bringing a new bottle of wine when they were done with the cleanup. I was definitely feeling the effects by now, but I was too inexperienced to recognize that I was getting drunk.

I was sitting on the floor, leaning back against a sofa when Suzanne and Nicole climbed onto the seats behind me. They had just sat down with their legs crossed, so as not to disturb Lizbeth or myself, when Nicole noticed the butterfly hair clip that I was still wearing. It was the first time she had been behind me. She asked me about it and I started relating my story, telling them about my adventure with the released convict from Albany.

"Where's the report that the cops filled out?" Nicole asked.

I reached into my pocket and handed her the entire wad of papers that I had.

Nicole started looking at the paperwork and said, "This says that a Miss Ashley James turned in two suitcases containing intimate women's apparel, apparently picked up in error after disembarking from the Chicago bus. It further says that Miss James' own suitcases, identical in manufacturer, color, and model, are missing."

"Not that one. That happened later."

Nicole opened up the other sheet and read it. "This one says that a Miss Ashley M. James was being accosted in the Buffalo bus station by a recently paroled felon. He was observed dragging her by the hair toward the station exit with the obvious intent of taking her outside the station. The young woman reported that he had offered to take her to his apartment, and when she declined, started to forcibly drag her. The young women declined to press formal charges because she was only passing through the city on her way to Chicago."

Lizbeth said, "Why do you keep identifying yourself as Miss Ashley James? Say, were those really your suitcases?"

Everyone had a good laugh, including me. "I don't know why they keep calling me Miss James. I didn't tell them to call me that. They took my name off my student ID."

Nicole studied the ID that had been included with the wad of papers that I had handed over. "Your ID says 'Ashley James, middle initial M.' Your picture makes you look like a girl because your hair is pulled tightly back in a ponytail and it looks like you're wearing makeup. I can see why they're assuming that you're a girl."

"I was not wearing makeup," I said indignantly. "That was just from the weird yellow lighting in the gym where the pictures were taken. And the name is Ashley, James M., not Ashley James."

"You probably haven't looked closely at your ID. There's no comma after Ashley so people don't know that your school uses last name first. The middle initial is off by itself so that doesn't help straighten out the order of the name."

"Let me see that," I said. It took a few seconds for my eyes to focus. "I'll be darned. I guess I'm Ashley M. James. My mom will sure be surprised." I laughed drunkenly at my own joke.

"Michelle," Lizbeth said.

"What?" I asked fuzzily.

"Ashley Michelle James. It sounds better than Ashley M James. Nicole, you had a waitress working for you last summer whose name was Ashley Michelle Bowers. I always thought that Ashley Michelle was a really pretty name combination."

I giggled. "Okay, I'm Ashley Michelle James. And I left all my clothes at the bus station because I didn't want you to see all my pretty things."

We all laughed and I took another swallow from my glass.

Suzanne, who was directly behind me, reached out and removed the butterfly clip and then starting playing with my hair. "Your ends are all split, Ashley Michelle. You have beautiful hair, dear, but it desperately needs some attention. I'm going to cut your hair for you."

"No, I don't want my hair cut," I said flatly.

"I won't cut it short, hon. Just a trim to remove the split ends."

"It's okay the way that it is."

"No, it isn't. It's in absolutely terrible condition. When did you shampoo it last?"

"About a week ago I guess."

"Is that the last time you showered?" Lizbeth asked, raising her nose in the air and making a face in mock offense.

"No, I showered two days ago. You spend two days on a bus without being able to change your clothes and you won't smell too great either."

Suzanne stood up and started pulling me up. "Girls, I think our cousin needs a shower."

In seconds Lizbeth and Nicole were helping to drag me towards the basement bathroom. Lurch could probably handle me by herself so they didn't have any problem getting me there. I'd barely had time to gulp down my glass of wine. Once in the bathroom, they started stripping me. I protested, but it was to little avail. They stopped when I was down to my under shorts, and left, taking my clothes with them.

"Don't come out of there until you're clean," Suzanne said. "I'll throw your jeans, tee shirt, and socks into the washer. Shampoo your hair two times or I'll come in and wash it over the sink."

I didn't have much choice so I dropped my under shorts and stepped into the shower. I shampooed my hair twice and then washed the rest of me as thoroughly, while I entertained myself by singing. I always enjoyed singing in the shower, mainly because it was the only place I dared sing, and I was feeling great when I stepped out. I was clean, and the wine had me flying high. My only problem was, my under shorts weren't on the floor where I'd left them. I went to the door and opened it a couple of inches.

"Somebody took my shorts," I yelled out. "I don't have anything to put on."

"Your clothes are in the washing machine. We were just waiting until you were out of the shower to start the machine so you didn't get scalded or frozen. Here," I heard Lizbeth say as the door was pushed open a little further and a hand holding a robe appeared.

I took the robe and closed the door. The material of the robe was thin, and had a feminine appearance with a bright, multicolored floral print pattern, but I put it on anyway. It smelled really nice and was a perfect fit. I was too drunk to care about anything else. After folding over the two sides and tying the belt or sash, I stepped out of the bathroom. My cousins were sitting where we had been before, so I went over and sat down where I had been sitting before they dragged me to the bathroom. My wine glass had been refilled and I took a good gulp after settling onto the floor. I was hot from the shower and the chilled wine went down easy, too easy. Suzanne immediately started playing with my hair again. It was wet and she tried to dry it with a towel somewhat before trying to get a comb through it. It was somewhere about this time that I think I fell asleep.

(continued)

  

  

  

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