The High Tide Club

“It’s wonderful,” Millie said. She tilted her head back and gazed up at the sky. “Have you ever seen a moon so big and beautiful?”

“It’s called the king moon,” I told my friends, feeling important at possessing such knowledge. “I think it only happens once or twice a year.”

I glanced at Ruth, expecting her to ridicule or contradict me, but to my astonishment, she was busily unbuttoning her cotton blouse. She dropped it onto the sand and unfastened the gingham skirt she’d dressed in that morning, and soon it joined the blouse.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m going swimming,” she said, leaning forward to unfasten the brassiere she’d just begun wearing earlier that spring.

“But you don’t have a swimsuit,” Millie said.

“I don’t need a swimsuit. I’ve got my birthday suit.” Ruth dropped the brassiere, and next came her panties. She danced toward the waves, wiggling her bare bottom the way we’d seen the sideshow hootchy-kootchy girls do when the carnival came to town. She glanced back at us, over her shoulder. “Come on, you prissy-pants!”

I was hot and sweaty, and I could feel itchy mosquito-bite welts on my face and arms. I pulled my dress over my head and kicked off my cotton panties and the icky cotton undershirt Mama insisted on making me wear. A moment later I was as naked as a jaybird, the breeze ruffling my hair. I glanced over at Millie, who’d averted her eyes out of modesty.

“Come on, Millie,” I begged. “It feels great.”

“I can’t,” she whispered.

Ruth was leaping and diving into the waves. She pulled the pins from her long red hair and let it cascade, dripping down her knobby breasts. “Look, Josie. Look, Millie. I’m a mermaid!” She dove backward into the water, kicking her feet at the last minute.

“I’m coming in,” I announced, and I made a running leap into the surf. I’d never felt so daring or so free. The ocean was as warm as bathwater. I floated on my back, staring up at the velvet sky, pricked with millions of stars and that low-hanging king moon. The tide carried me back toward the shore, and when my bare bottom scraped the sand, I flipped over and looked toward the beach. Millie was crouched on the sand, her knees pulled up tightly against her chest, looking thoroughly miserable.

“If you don’t get in here right now, I’m never speaking to you again,” I called.

“And I’ll tell you-know-who that you have a crush on him.” Ruth ran forward and began splashing Millie.

“Ruth, stop!”

I joined in, and within minutes, Millie was soaked and laughing despite her protests.

“Oh, all right,” she said finally. Gritting her teeth, she pulled off her dress and ran shrieking into the waves, dressed only in underclothes similar to mine.

“No fair,” Ruth said, splashing Millie again. “It’s not skinny-dipping unless you’re naked.”

“That’s right,” I agreed. “You can’t be in the club unless you are tee-totally stitch-stark naked.”

Millie sank down into the water until only her head and shoulders were exposed. “This is stupid,” she grumbled. A moment later, she stood and tossed her remaining clothes onto the beach.

“See? Doesn’t it feel wonderful?” Ruth asked.

Millie ducked down under the water and popped back up again, spouting a stream of water from pursed lips, like the fountain in the garden back at school. She shook her head, raining droplets on both of us. “Yes! All right. Yes, it feels marvelous!”

After that, we laughed and splashed and floated and swam until our arms and legs were so tired we could barely drag ourselves onto the beach. Finally, we lay flat on our backs in the sand, our fingertips barely touching, while we gazed up at the moon.

“You said there’s a club,” Millie said, sitting up and looking around for her clothes. “And now you have to let me be in it, because I skinny-dipped too. What’s it called?”

“Hmm.” Ruth found Millie’s wadded-up dress and tossed it at her.

“It’s the High Tide Club,” I announced.

“Yes!” Ruth proclaimed. She found her skirt and pulled a packet from the pocket, tapping out a cigarette and a book of matches.

“Ruth Mattingly! I didn’t know you smoked,” Millie said, wide-eyed.

“Oh, sure,” Ruth said carelessly. She held out the package. “Want one?”

“No, thanks,” Millie said.

I shook my head. Ruth shrugged, lit the cigarette, inhaled, then tilted her head back and blew a series of perfect smoke rings.

“What should we have for rules?” Millie asked as she began to dress.

“Well, skinny-dipping, for starters,” Ruth said. She flicked ashes onto the sand, took another puff on the cigarette, and handed it over to me. I hesitated and took a tiny puff. My lungs burned, and I coughed and passed the cigarette back.

“But only when there’s a full moon,” Millie said. “It’s so much more glamorous.”

“And a high tide,” I added between coughs.

“Next meeting, this summer,” Ruth said. “You’re all invited to my house at Newport.” She waved her cigarette in our faces. “And don’t forget your birthday suits.”

5

Josephine closed her eyes. Her chin sagged, and a moment later, she was softly snoring, the Chihuahuas each nesting with their snouts in the opposing crooks of her elbows. Brooke waited tactfully. Should she leave?

Remembering Louette’s warning about overtiring Josephine, Brooke quietly stashed her notes in her briefcase and began to tiptoe toward the door.

Josephine’s eyes opened. “Where do you think you’re going?”

The Chihuahuas scrambled to alert, yawning, their huge eyes staring expectantly at the intruder.

“Um, I thought maybe you needed some rest,” Brooke said.

“I’ll let you know when I need some rest. Now, where was I?”

Brooke sat down again. “Well, I asked you who would be the beneficiary of your trust, and you said something about the girls of the high tide? Was that sort of a youth organization? Like Pioneer Girls maybe?”

“I’ve never heard of that organization, so why would I leave my island to them?”

“Sorry,” Brooke said. “Maybe I misunderstood. The High Tide Club?”

“For heaven’s sake. Keep up, will you? I just told you, these were my oldest, dearest friends in the world.”

“Oh.”

“It was all so long ago,” Josephine said drowsily. “Sometimes, I almost wonder if I dreamed them. Dreamed the times we had together.”

Brooke shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “Um, just how long ago did you have these friends?”

Josephine waved her hand dismissively. “We were just girls. Millie and I were in kindergarten together. Ruth, oh, I don’t know. I suppose I met Ruth my first year at boarding school. We were both so terribly homesick. We hated our roommates. So we tricked them into ditching us so that we could room together. Oh, that Ruth. She was the most delicious fun! Sweet Millie, well, she had such a soft heart, the other girls would take advantage of her. So we had to take her under our wing, didn’t we? We were peas in a pod. We made our debut together…”

Josephine’s eyelids fluttered, and Brooke feared she was falling asleep again. Should she leave?