The High Tide Club

A wide sand beach flattened out before them, and the full moon’s reflection shone on the surface of the water. Waves lapped gently at the shore.

“Isn’t it beautiful, girls?” Josephine asked, turning to her friends, who were seated in the car’s rumble seat. “Have you ever seen so many stars in your life?”

“The best,” Ruth declared. “And the ocean’s so much warmer down here! I swear, my lips were blue for a week after we skinny-dipped last year at Nantucket.”

“Brrrr.” Josephine laughed. She hopped out of the car, went around to the rear luggage rack, and unstrapped the wicker hamper.

“I’ll bring the towels,” Ruth said. She looked over her shoulder at Millie and Varina, who hadn’t moved from the backseat. “Come on, you two.”

Millie climbed out of the car, followed by the younger girl, and they trailed after Josephine to the spot on the beach where she unfolded a large woolen blanket.

Josephine sat down on the blanket, promptly removed her shoes, and dug her toes into the soft sand. “Ahhh.”

The other girls followed suit, except for Varina, who was uncharacteristically quiet.

“Look here,” Josephine announced, opening the picnic basket. “Champagne!” She produced the bottle and popped the cork, sending a plume of champagne into the warm night air.

“Not for me,” Millie said. “I had more than enough last night.”

“I’ve got whiskey too,” Josephine said, displaying a pint bottle of Jim Beam. “Gardiner gave it to me this morning, as a goodbye gift.”

“No, thanks,” Millie repeated, shuddering.

“Don’t be such a party pooper, Millie,” Ruth said. She found a tin cup in the basket and held it out to Josephine. “Guess I’ll just have to drink her share.”

Josephine tipped the bottle and filled her friend’s cup, then gestured toward the youngest member of the group.

“Varina? Have you ever had champagne?”

The girl shook her head vigorously. “No, ma’am. You know my daddy is a Church of God preacher. He doesn’t hold with drinking spirits.”

“But your brothers drink,” Josephine said, taking a sip from the bottle. “Papa always gives them beer after they’ve been working at Shellhaven.”

“It’s different for girls,” Varina replied. “Everything’s different when you’re a girl.”

“Just take a sip,” Josephine insisted. She poured some into a cup and held it out.

“Leave her be, Jo,” Millie said sharply.

“Spoilsport,” Josephine said. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue at her best friend, then emptied the cup of champagne in one long swallow, with Ruth following suit.

“What else have you got in that basket?” Ruth asked. “Lunch was hours and hours ago, and I’m famished.”

“Let’s see what old Dorris gave us,” Josephine said, inspecting items as she lifted them from the basket. “Fried chicken. Ham biscuits. Some kind of little sandwiches left over from the party. Oooh. Chocolate cake!”

“Yum.” Ruth found tin plates in the basket and helped herself to a ham biscuit and a slice of cake.

“Come on, you two,” Josephine said, handing plates to Millie and Varina. “This is a party, not a funeral.”

When they’d eaten their fill, Josephine sprawled out on the blanket and stared up at the sky. “Just think,” she said. “Pretty soon, Gardiner will be up there, maybe flying across the Atlantic, to drop a big bomb on those dirty Nazis.”

Millie set aside the plate with her half-eaten sandwich. “Aren’t you afraid for your brother? What if something happens to him?”

“Nothing’s going to happen to Gardiner,” Josephine declared. “He’s too good a pilot for that. You wait, he’ll be one of those flying aces in no time.” She downed another cup of champagne. “Okay. Let’s go swimming!”

She stood up and slipped out of her dress, kicking it aside, and stripped down to her satin-and-lace-embellished panties and bra. Ruth followed suit, leaving Millie and Varina huddled together on the blanket, still fully clothed.

“Well?” Josephine said impatiently.

“Somebody might see us,” Varina said, turning and surveying the deserted beach. “If my daddy found out I was swimming naked, he’d skin me alive.”

“Nobody’s going to see us,” Ruth retorted. “And your daddy doesn’t have to find out. We’ll never tell.”

“You two go ahead,” Millie said. “I’ll stay here with Varina.”

Josephine shrugged, then stripped off her undergarments. She stretched her arms overhead. She unpinned her long hair and shook it out so that it fell down her back and across her bare chest. A moment later, she ran toward the ocean and plunged into the waves.

“Wait for me,” Ruth called. She gulped the rest of her champagne and peeled out of her panties and bra, then raced toward the waves, screaming at the top of her lungs.

For the next ten minutes the two women laughed and splashed, wading out of the water, then running back and diving into the waves, letting the current pull them out before paddling back toward the beach.

Finally, Josephine and Ruth headed back to their friends, who sat watching from the blanket.

“You’ve got to come in the water,” Josephine insisted. “It’s wonderful!” She shook her head like a dog, spraying salt water over Millie and Varina.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Millie said, drying her face with one of the towels. “I’m fine right where I am, thank you very much.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Josephine said. She pulled Millie to her feet. “Why are you suddenly being so bashful? You didn’t mind skinny-dipping at Nantucket, or Palm Beach, or here last year.”

“That’s right, Millie,” Ruth chimed in. She tugged at the cuff of her friend’s gauzy long-sleeved jacket. “Come on. You’ve got to be suffocating in this thing.”

Josephine caught the end of the silk scarf wound around Millie’s neck and began to unwind it, and in the meantime, Ruth had managed to strip away Millie’s jacket and was pulling at the waistband of her skirt.

“Don’t!” Millie said, swatting at her friends’ hands, which made them more determined to help her disrobe. “I don’t feel like swimming. Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“You know the rules. One swims, we all swim. Naked as the day we were born,” Josephine said, giggling. “You too, Varina. It’s your initiation into the High Tide Club.”

The fourteen-year-old hugged her skinny legs tightly to her chest, her arms wound around them. “No, ma’am,” she said firmly. “I changed my mind. I don’t wanna be in your club.”

Josephine managed to pull the scarf free but froze when the moonlight revealed the ring of ugly blue-black bruises encircling Millie’s neck, and the corresponding bands of bruises on Millie’s now-exposed upper arms and wrists.

“Oh my God,” she whispered.

Millie’s lightweight skirt fell away from her waist just at that moment. Ruth gasped and pointed. “Jo, look.”

Fingerprints, in the form of bruises, marred the creamy skin of their friend’s upper thighs.

Weeping softly, Millie sank down onto the blanket, clutching her clothes to her body.