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Show I l l • 'I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each,'" she said. "Do you think they will sing to you?" "Huh?" "Mave mermaids ever sang to you, Chess Brocken?" -SodWi^t»ask'%«*«*-*»* eai»C>«a->»a*«,. "I grew up too far from the ocean. But there was this girl next door . . .' "Do you dare to eat a peach? Will you wear white flannel trousers and walk along the beach? Oh, Chess, isn't the water marvelous?" She was short, without shoes the top of her head just to my shoulder. The water was near air temperature -- in summer it was usually too warm, as warm as urine, so that people swam in pools, which were kept cool. "It heals my toes," I said. "Salt water, the only thing that keeps them from totting off." "It's the exact temglperature of the Fountain of Youth." "Ummm, well, the Fountain of Youth, we ought to swim in that." "Why not?" De Soto would have approved. Moving up the beach away from the water we took off our clothes so casually that afterwards I was surprised. We looked up and down the beach, found it deserted, and in the moonlight took off our clothes and folded them neatly upon the sand, all but our underclothes. I put my hat on top of the pile. We looked at one another, knowing what the other was thinking. "Wnat about these?" I asked. "We can swim in them. But then we'd have to carry them home wet." "Ummm. Officers and gentlemen are expected not to carry their wet skivvies upon the streets." "So . . . " She turned her back, arms up to unhook her bra. I took off my shorts more slowly than I had my pants, even on a magical night a bit anxious about skin, how vulnerable to be naked is, but slowly too to watch her out of the corner of my eye, she going slip-zip and off running |