About a week later, June was interrupted in the middle of her basket weaving class by a messenger from Mrs. Marchant, saying that the camp's owner wanted to see her immediately. An uneasy, sick kind of feeling bubbled through June's stomach as she excused herself from the class and started through the woods to the cabin where Mrs. Marchant had her office. To be called away in the middle of a class, she knew, had to mean that something important was up. Something, she feared, that had a great deal to do with Mimsy Colberg. And something, too, she had little doubt, that could be traced directly back to Pat.
"So she finally got up her nerve to do it," she thought bitterly, recalling the violent argument she and Pat had had late at night, about a week to the day. Pat had burst into the cabin like a madwoman, shaken June out of a sound sleep, and ranted and raved for more than an hour. At the heart of her rantings was the knowledge that June and Mimsy Colberg had been having sex. It had terrified June to discover Pat knew about it, but press as she would she was unable to find out from her how. Had she seen them going into the cabin, she wondered, and eavesdropped at the window? Or, worse, had someone else seen them and told Pat about it? The thought that what she had done to Mimsy that first afternoon – and which they'd both done to each other several times again in the past week – might soon be gossip for the whole camp's ears sent a shudder of fear running through June as she hurried toward Mrs. Marchant's cabin.
In the height of their argument, Pat had threatened to go to the camp's owner and report June's sexual involvement with one of the girls. She had screamed that it would serve June right, for trying to make her believe she was through with lesbian relations for good, when all she really wanted was a clear field with Mimsy Colberg. June had countered by challenging Pat to make the report, feeling in her heart that she knew the girl who'd once been her lover well enough to know she never would do it. Until that afternoon, her belief had been justified to the point where she'd actually felt safe having further sexual relations with Mimsy. She and the girl had met several times in June's cabin while Pat was away, and three nights during the last week they'd had secret meetings in the woods after everyone else in the camp was asleep. Now June didn't know what to think – except that Pat had turned her in.
She knocked lightly on the cabin door and entered as Mrs. Marchant called out, "Come in." The woman looked up from her desk with a stern, almost angry frown creasing her thin forehead. "Oh, it's you, June."
"Here it comes," the girl thought, swallowing hard as she stared into the cold eyes of the camp owner.
To her surprise, however, Mrs. Marchant looked back down at her papers and informed her, "You have a visitor."
"What?" June was so startled that the woman hadn't said what she'd expected her to say that for a moment she didn't understand. "I beg your pardon, Mrs. Marchant? Would you repeat that, please?"
"What's the matter?" the woman snapped in her old maid school teacher voice. "Do you have a bug in your ear this afternoon? I said you have a visitor. He's waiting to see you in the other room."
"He…? A visitor…?" June mumbled in confusion.
"He says he's your young man," the woman impatiently explained. "I informed him that you were in the middle of a class and asked if he would wait until you'd finished and dismissed the girls, but he insisted it was of the utmost urgency that he see you immediately. He said he wouldn't leave my office until I had you called." It was clear by the woman's peevish tone that she was annoyed by the whole situation. "Try not to let him keep you too long, June. There's no telling what the girls might get into left alone like this."
"Yes, Mrs. Marchant," June said quickly, feeling a flood of relief run through her as she realized the worst of what she'd feared was not going to come true. "Of course. I understand. I'll only be a minute. As soon as I see what he wants, I'll get back to my class."
"Well, I hope so…" the woman muttered, as June crossed the room and opened the door of the little anteroom to the office.
Her eyes widened in surprise as she confronted Gary, her boyfriend from college. As he rushed across the room to take her in his arms, June's first thought was, "My God! Something's happened at home! Pop! He's had another heart attack!"
Her hands clutched frantically at Gary's arms, pushing him away when he tried to kiss her. "Gary, what's wrong? Is it Pop? Mother? What's happened?"
"Hey! Hey!" he laughed. "Hold on! It's nothing like that; your folks are both doing fine. I talked to them on the phone last night to tell them I was coming up here and see if there was anything they wanted me to bring you."
After the tension of her fears, the seemingly inconsequential reason for Gary's visit struck June in a way that made her as much angry as it did relieved. "What are you doing here? What do you want, Gary?" she snapped, more sharply than she'd meant to.
"Well!" he smiled. "That's a heck of a welcome from the girl I'm in love with, I must say!"
"What do you want? Don't you know I have a class waiting for me right now? Mrs. Marchant told me you said it was some kind of emergency, that you had to see me immediately."
"I just told her that because I knew if I didn't she wouldn't call you," the boy grinned. "I've got to get back for work tomorrow morning, so I can't spend too much time up here."
"What do you want?" June sighed impatiently. "Will you please tell me and get it over with?"
Gary's face went suddenly serious as he reached for June's hand and squeezed it hard. "I've got to talk to you. About us."
"Oh, God!" she moaned. "Is that all?"
"Well, it's important to me, at least, to know where we stand," the boy argued. "Maybe you feel different about it since I saw you last."
"Look, Gary," June explained, freeing her arm from his grip. "I can't talk to you right now. Mrs. Marchant is already annoyed because I've left the girls alone, and if I'm not back soon she'll have my head on a platter. It's a wonderful surprise to see you like this, but I wish you'd have phoned or written me first to let me know you were coming."
"I didn't have time. I just made up my mind to come yesterday; as soon as I got the letter."
"What letter?"
"I left it in the car. Come on for a drive with me and I'll let you read it."
"Gary, I can't. Aren't you able to understand that? This is my job you're interrupting. I'm working, but I might not be much longer if I don't get back to those girls."
"What time does your class finish?"
"In about a half-hour, but then I've got group conferences almost until it's time for dinner. I really don't see how…"
"Can I meet you somewhere later tonight? After dinner, maybe?"
"I've got to see the girls get settled down for the night."
"Well, after that, then."
"It'll be late, Gary. I really don't think…"
"You mean I drove all the way up here for nothing?" he snapped.
Without thinking first, June snapped right back at him, "Who asked you to? I didn't…"
"Okay, forget it, then."
"Oh, Gary! I'm sorry! Wait a minute; don't go! I didn't mean it the way it sounded!" She hurried after him, stopping his hand just as it reached for the doorknob to the outside, "I'll meet you at eleven o'clock. I think it'll be safe by that time."
His face brightened immediately. "Okay, where?"
June thought quickly for a moment. "Park your car close to the main gate, but out of sight if you can manage it. There's a little cabin close to the fence that used to be the gatekeeper's house when this was a private estate. It's deserted now."
"I think I saw it on my way in. Is that where you want me to meet you?"
"At eleven," she promised, leaning forward and giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "I've got to run now. See you later."
For all she was able to concentrate on teaching the class when she returned to it, however, June might just as well have gone off with the boy right there and then. Her mind was unable to concentrate on anything other than what had brought him all the way from Boston to the Summer Sisters Camp. What was this mysterious letter he was talking about, she wondered? Her first suspicion had been that it was one of those she'd written to Pat, but she quickly realized that if that were the case Gary wouldn't be half as off-handed as he'd been. He'd be hopping mad, demanding an explanation or a denial. But what else it could be was anyone's guess.
"June?" Mimsy asked when the class was over and the girls were starting down to the lake. "Can I see you again tonight? In our secret place?"
It hurt her inside to have to shake her head and tell the girl, "No, darling, I'm sorry. Not tonight. I can't make it."
"Why?" Mimsy asked innocently.
"I – can't explain."
"It's not because you're tired of seeing me, is it?" the girl asked softly. "Because if I thought that was true, June, I don't know what I'd do. You're my whole life. I'd be lost forever if you left me."
"Don't talk such nonsense," she chided, but inside herself she glowed with love and happiness for the girl and had been deeply touched that Mimsy expressed such strong feelings for her. "It has nothing to do with you. I'll see you tomorrow, in our place."
As she started to walk away, she felt the girl's hand lightly touch her arm. "June?" she whispered. "There's no one else, is there?"
She turned her head and felt a rush of emotion flood through her as she stared into Mimsy's tearful eyes. "Of course not, darling," she swore. "There's no one else but you. Now get out of here and go down to the lake where you belong, before I lose all control and make love to you right now."
"Mmmmmmm!" Mimsy grinned. "That sounds wonderful! I think I'll stay!"
June slapped her behind with a sharp whack and pushed her playfully toward the path to the lake. "Go on, get! I want to see you swimming like a fish by the end of the summer. I understand you're like a rock right now."
"I'll learn," the girl sighed as she turned to go. "If it kills me, I'll learn, I guess…"
June smiled after her and waited until she'd disappeared in the thicket of woods, then bundled up her materials and trudged back to her cabin for the group conferences she'd scheduled earlier in the week. For the rest of the day and into the early evening she was so busy with work that she didn't have time to think much about her meeting with Gary. But at quarter to eleven, as she slipped out of the cabin and started through the woods toward the old gatehouse, she felt a queasy sensation rippling through her stomach. It wasn't so much facing whatever Gary had to tell her that put her nerves so on edge; it was seeing the boy himself, and knowing that most likely he would want to use the meeting as an excuse to have sex with her. June wasn't at all sure that she wanted it to happen.
Mimsy Colberg had turned her whole world upside down on its ear. Before she slept with the girl for the first time, June had thought her life was free of entanglements after breaking with Pat and on a direct course toward marriage and a family with Gary. Now she didn't know if such a future still appealed to her. She'd found such all-fulfilling happiness in Mimsy's arms that it seemed impossible any boy – not just Gary – could match it. The tenderness that had flown between the two girls as they made love was unlike anything that had ever happened to June with Gary or any other guy. She felt as though only with Mimsy had she discovered what sex and love were really all about. Not even Pat had turned her on so completely, so that almost every waking moment was spent thinking of the girl and making plans for their future.
There wasn't much time left for her to make a decision about what to do, though. It was only a short walk to the gate house, and as she came through the clearing of trees surrounding it she could see the burning tip of a cigarette glowing in Gary's hand as he paced restlessly back and forth. He hadn't seen or heard her approaching and for a moment she thought of slipping back into the woods and not keeping the appointment at all. But that was the coward's way out, she knew, and since Gary was only liable to create a major scene if she didn't show up, it would have to be faced sooner or later.
June stepped into the clearing and hurried quickly toward the boy. His face broke into a welcoming smile as soon as he spotted her, but June didn't give him a chance to reach for her or even to say hello. "Where did you leave your car?" she asked.
"Outside the gate. Nobody'll see it."
"All right, let's get inside."
"What's the rush?" he grinned, trying to take her in his arms.
"Gary, don't!" she complained, struggling to break his hold around her. She turned her face away as he tried to kiss her and his lips smacked into her cheek instead of her mouth, as intended.
"Boy, you're jumpy tonight!" he laughed. "What's wrong?"
"I don't want anyone to see us."
"Like who? The owls in the trees?"
"I've had the strangest feeling that someone has been following me ever since I left my cabin," she explained, thinking to herself, "And I don't need more than one guess to figure out who it is." Her eyes scanned the darkness of the woods behind them, but if Pat was hiding there watching them she was well concealed. "Please let's go inside."
The door was open on the old gate house, but it creaked, like the gate of hell being swung open when Gary pulled it back. He went in first, as though to check out any possible danger before letting June enter behind him. An old oil lamp sat on a broken down table in the middle of the room and Gary stumbled toward it in the semi-dark with a lit match in his hand, holding it to the base of the lamp until the wick caught and the room suddenly was filled with a warm glow of light.
"There," he grinned. "That's better, isn't it?"
"Much," June agreed.
"Pull up a chair and sit down!" the boy offered, dusting off the seat of a broken-backed chair and pushing it toward her. "Might as well make ourselves comfortable."
"Gary," she said impatiently, "we don't have time to make ourselves at home. You've got a long drive ahead of you if you're going to be at work in the morning, and I guess I don't need to tell you what would happen to me if anyone caught us here, together like this."
"Why?" he grinned. "We're not doing anything."
"Mrs. Marchant wouldn't see it that way, I'm afraid," June informed him. "If she found me here alone with you this late at night she'd think I was first cousin to the Whore of Babylon."
"I've thought that sometimes," he teased. "Especially the hot way you screw, baby! Must have had some good ancestors! Or did you pick it up naturally by instinct?"
He moved around behind her and tried to slip his arms around her waist. June pulled loose, but he caught her again and turned her so they faced one another.
"Do you know you haven't even given me a kiss yet?" he asked.
"Haven't I?" She moved her face closer and gave him a quick peck on the mouth. Instead of the heady rush of excitement she'd once felt pressing her lips to Gary's, with all the tingling sensations that accompanied the kiss and made her want to do more intimate things with him, she felt only a little shudder of revulsion run down her spine. The boy's lips felt dry and cracked; so hard, compared to the moist softness of Mimsy's mouth. It seemed almost an abuse of herself to offer her lips to a man's rough mouth.
"Hey! What kind of kiss is that? Let's have a real one, huh?" the boy insisted. He pulled her closer, pressing the front of his body flush with June's. She could feel the stirring of his cock starting to rouse itself in his pants as he ground himself slowly from side to side against her and wedged his tongue deep inside her mouth. It was all June could do to keep from gagging until he released her. "That's better!" he laughed. "Much better! How about another one?"
June's ears suddenly perked to attention. "What was that?"
"What was what?"
"Didn't you hear that noise outside just now? Like somebody was out there?"
"Forget it! It's just your imagination. You're pretty high-strung tonight, baby. I think you need something to relax you. Something like this." His hand quickly caught hers and brought her fingers to his crotch. He pressed her palm flush against the throbbing hardness growing in his pants. "What d'you say? Do you need a little of that to calm you down?"
"No…" she started to protest, but the word was only half-spoken before his mouth pressed down on hers once again and his thick tongue shoved its way through her lips. Feeling him press his hard-on against her belly made June shiver with revulsion. Her mind recalled all the things he'd done to her with that cock – and all the things she'd done to it, including putting it inside her mouth and sucking it until he shot his load. Such memories repelled her now, and she knew without question that her future path was set. Mimsy had opened her eyes to the truth about herself, a truth that Pat had only half-revealed and a truth which Gary would never be able to understand. She had to break away from him; had to free herself from the touch of his hands and the demanding pressure of his body rocking back and forth against her. She knew well enough from past experience what would happen if she let things continue much further.
"Don't, Gary," she whimpered, pushing him away. "Not now. It's too dangerous."
"Who cares?" he laughed tensely. "I need you, baby. Like you need me. Let's start those colored lights going again, huh? Remember those crazy colored lights you said you saw whenever I screwed you?"
June remembered, with shame. It had all been a lie; she could see that now. Everything that had happened with Gary had been nothing more than a desperate attempt to free herself emotionally from Pat. Not because she wanted to escape the kind of love Pat offered her, but because the girl herself wasn't right for June. She could see that now. Not right in the way Mimsy was right for her, and always would be.
"Later, Gary," she promised, hating herself for yet another lie, but knowing it was necessary to find out what he'd come to the camp for. "After you've shown me the letter you have and explained what all this is about."
"Well, it's a heck of a thing to do to a guy in this condition," he smiled foolishly, with a glance down at the hard-on pushing through his pants, "but if you're sure you're not just putting me off…"
"I'm not, Gary," she told him. "Later, when it's safe, maybe we'll drive someplace in your car and – there! Didn't you hear it that time?" she suddenly exclaimed, turning back toward the cabin door.
"You know, I think I did hear something out there that time," he agreed. "It sounded like a twig snapped, didn't it?"
"Yes! I told you so! Someone's out there, Gary! Listening to us. Watching…" Her mind suddenly put together two separate thoughts and she was certain of who the unseen presence in the nearby woods had to be. "That bitch!" she thought angrily. "I'll fix her! I'll give her a show that'll make her eat her heart out, if that's what she wants to see!" It seemed to make sense, she thought. If Pat knew Gary was there, she probably wanted to see how June would handle the situation, knowing as she did of her involvement with Mimsy. But June was determined not to give her any satisfaction. She'd make her squirm watching how she'd carry on with Gary, until she'd wish she'd never followed her out of the cabin.
"What makes you think it's someone?" the boy asked. "Why not something? Like an animal, I mean? That's probably all it was, you know. These woods are full of animals, I imagine."
"They sure are!" June thought angrily. "And I'll bet there's a big, black-haired rat out there right now, watching us. A female rat, with a name that rhymes."
"Maybe you're right," she agreed aloud, slipping her arm around Gary's waist. She rested her head lightly on his shoulder. "Anyway, what does it matter what's out there, as long as I've got my big, strong man here to protect me?"
"That's right," he laughed. "And I am your man, aren't I, baby?"
"There's no other man I love more than you," she said, biting lightly on the tip of her tongue at the half-truth with its concealed irony.
"That's my baby."
He turned her unexpectedly and took her back in his arms. This time, feeling certain that Pat was watching from somewhere in the darkness beyond the gate house, June threw herself into the kiss as feverishly as she ever had done in the past. Her fingernails raked up and down the boy's back as she worked her tongue in combat with his. It surprised her how quickly she was able to respond to his passion, until she realized that it was all an act she'd learned to perfection many months earlier and been rehearsing every time they'd been together. Her feeling for him had been no more real then than it was now. Except now she was aware of what she was doing.
Her hands squeezed in on the cheeks of the boy's tight behind through his jeans, pressing his hardened cock flush with her thigh. She ground herself against him until he made moaning noises in his throat which June was certain could be heard outside.
"Oh, baby! Let's screw!" he groaned, tearing his mouth from hers. "What d'you say?"
"Yes! Yes, of course!" she said loudly enough for her voice to carry beyond the room. She hoped her tone sounded as choked with pent-up passion as she meant it to be. She wanted Pat to think she was the most cock-hungry bitch to ever stand on two legs. As Gary moved to open his pants, however, she quickly stopped him with her hand.
"Not – not just yet, though," she murmured softly. "Show me the letter, first."
"Screw the letter!" he laughed. Then, "No, on second thought, I think I'd rather screw you!"
"Please, Gary? If it was important enough to make you drive all the way up here to see me, don't you think you should show it to me?"
"It's not really important now. You've already answered any doubts I had."
"About what?"
"Here," he suggested, fishing into his back pocket for a crumpled envelope. "Read it for yourself."
June took the letter from him with slightly trembling hands. The single scrap of paper inside the envelope contained only a very short message. Word for word, it read: If you care at all about your relationship with June Halstead, pay a surprise visit on the camp where she's working.
"What does it mean?" she asked, puzzled as she handed back the letter.
"Who knows?" He smiled and scratched at the back of his head. "I guess some friend of yours must have realized how much you've been missing me and wrote so I'd come up and take care of business."
"I wonder…"
More likely, June thought, it was Pat trying to stir up some trouble. Although the handwriting on the envelope and the letter itself had been disguised, she could recognize Pat's scrawl from the many letters they'd exchanged themselves. Probably she thought if Gary came to the camp and surprised June with Mimsy it would create the havoc she wanted to see as her revenge. But once again she'd find herself mistaken, June vowed. There'd be no trouble at all, because she was going to give Gary exactly what he wanted and then send him on his way. She'd continue to write to him for the rest of the summer, although her letters would be carefully composed to reflect a growing coolness between them, and at the end of the summer, when she'd gone home again, she would tell him she'd decided to break off the affair. It would all be done neatly and cleanly, with no complications. All she had to do was get through the next few minutes, with Gary pumping his loathsome cock inside her. But even that, she knew, she could get through with flying colors. She faked sexual emotion with him in the past; she could certainly do it this one last time. Sort of a goodbye present, she thought with grim humor. And what topping on the cake it would be to give it to him with Pat watching from outside. It would serve her right.
"That's all it was?" she laughed.
"That's all."
"Why didn't you tell me in the first place? I thought it was some big deal, like you were going to break up with me. I've never been so worried in my life as I was all day today," June swore. "I didn't know what I was going to do if you'd told me you didn't want to see me again. You're the whole world to me, Gary." She hated herself for saying such things, knowing them to be untrue, but it was all for a good cause. Maybe after this, she hoped, Pat would never bother her again.
"Baby, I'm all yours," the boy grunted. "You've got me in every way a chick can get a guy."
"Make love to me," she moaned. "Please, Gary. I need you so desperately. I've been going crazy all week, without any real sex to satisfy me." She put special emphasis on the word, for Pat's benefit. She wanted the girl to know that there was no way she could compete with what Gary was about to do to her. "Take me! Please! Now!" she begged.
"Baby, just get down on that floor and roil up that skirt! I'm ready and willing!"
As he climbed on top of her and she felt the hard pressure of his cock working its way between her legs and nudging the entrance to her cunt, June closed her eyes and grit her teeth tightly together. "It's just this one last time," she thought with determination. She winced as he entered her, then tried her best to keep from pushing him away in disgust as he started to pump his large cock in and out of her hole. "This one last time, for Pat's benefit," she swore silently, "and then no one's ever going to touch me again but Mimsy. Sweet, wonderful Mimsy…"
Gary had finished coming and pulled out of her, but they still lay sweating and naked on the bare floor. As the boy reached for a pack of cigarettes in his discarded jeans, the sudden thump of a car door slamming shut outside the gate house startled them both. As June scurried to grab her clothes, the creaking door burst open and the blinding glare of a flashlight beam struck her full in the eyes. Behind the light came a voice that made her go sick inside.
"Well, well, well!" Mrs. Marchant cracked, her voice like the slash of a whip. "So this is the urgent business you had to see June about, is it? This – this filth! This depravity! And right under my very nose! When someone called and said there was a fire in the gate house, I never expected to find this!"
"The light!" June thought hopelessly. Someone must have seen the glow of the oil lamp through the window and mistaken it for flames. Or was it that way, she suddenly wondered? Maybe the call that had summoned Mrs. Marchant had been made for no other reason than to have the woman discover June with Gary. It seemed to make a lot more sense, especially when she thought about who might have made such a call.
"So she's won after all," she thought bitterly. "Pat's finality had the guts to turn me in."
"Get your clothes on, both of you," Mrs. Marchant snapped. "As soon as you're dressed, young man, I want you off these premises. If I find you here again. I'll call the police. And as for you, June." Her eyes narrowed into dark slits of outrage as they stared at the girl. "I'll expect to see you in my office in fifteen minutes to discuss how quickly we can arrange for you to be sent home."
"Sent home!" June's heart dropped like a dead weight. "Oh, no, Mrs. Marchant! Please!" Being sent home would ruin everything. She'd never see Mimsy again, never have a chance to further their wonderful relationship. At all costs, no matter what she had to agree to do or what sacrifices she'd promise to make, she had to stay at the camp for the rest of the summer.
"We'll discuss it in my office," Mrs. Marchant said. As she turned to the door to go back to her car, the sound of many girls' voices drifted across the still night air. "What on earth? Who's this running down the road now?"
"Mrs. Marchant! Mrs. Marchant!" one of the girl campers screamed as she raced toward the open door of the gate house. "Come quick! Something terrible's happened! Mimsy Colberg is in the lake!"
"What?" June gasped. She felt as though a dagger had just been plunged into her chest and for a moment her legs felt like they were going to buckle in under her. She staggered toward the door and leaned heavily against it as the other girl rushed up to the woman.
"She's in the lake, Mrs. Marchant!" the girl sobbed. "She's in the lake!"
"At this time of night?" the camp owner snapped angrily, not understanding, as June did, the significance of what was being told her. "Is she drunk? Nothing would surprise me this night…"
"She can't swim, Mrs. Marchant," June said her voice a dry rattle in her throat.
"That's right!" the other girl cried. "She's just floating there near the dock, face down. I-I think Mimsy is dead, Mrs. Marchant."
They were the last words June heard before the blackness that had been spinning through her mind suddenly closed in and she fainted.