August 14, 1952, was Josephine Czinski's thirteenth birthday. She was invited to a party by Mary Lou Kenyon, who had been born on the same day. Josephine's mother had forbidden her to go. "Those are wicked people," Mrs. Czinski admonished her. "You'll be better off stayin' home and studyin' your Bible."
But Josephine had no intention of remaining at home. Her friends were not wicked. She wished that there was some way she could make her mother understand. As soon as her mother left, Josephine took five dollars that she had earned by baby-sitting and went downtown, where she bought a lovely white bathing suit. Then she headed for Mary Lou's house. She had a feeling it was going to be a wonderful day.
Mary Lou Kenyon lived in the most beautiful of all the Oil People mansions. Her home was filled with antiques and priceless tapestries and beautiful paintings. On the grounds were guest cottages, stables, a tennis court, a private landing strip and two swimming pools, an enormous one for the Kenyons and their guests and a smaller one in back for the staff.
Mary Lou had an older brother, David, of whom Josephine had caught glimpses from time to time. He was the most handsome boy Josephine had ever seen. He seemed about ten feet tall with broad, football shoulders and teasing gray eyes. He was an All-America halfback and had been given a Rhodes scholarship. Mary Lou had also had an older sister, Beth, who had died when Josephine was a little girl.
Now, at the party, Josephine kept looking around hopefully for David, but she did not see him anywhere. In the past, he had stopped to speak to her several times, but each time Josephine had reddened and stood there, tongue-tied.
The party was a big success. There were fourteen boys and girls. They had eaten an enormous lunch of barbecue beef, chicken, chili and potato salad and lemonade, served on the terrace by uniformed butlers and maids. Then Mary Lou and Josephine opened their presents, while everyone stood around and commented on them.
Mary Lou said, "Let's all go for a swim."
Everyone made a dash for the dressing rooms at their side of the pool. As Josephine changed into her new bathing suit, she thought that she had never been so happy. It had been a perfect day, spent with her friends. She was one of them, sharing the beauty that surrounded them everywhere. There was nothing evil about it. She wished she could stop time and freeze this day so that it would never end.
Josephine stepped out into the bright sunlight. As she walked toward the pool, she became aware that the others were watching her, the girls with open envy, the boys with sly, covert looks. In the past few months Josephine's body had matured dramatically. Her breasts were firm and full, straining against her bathing suit, and her hips hinted at the lush, rounded curves of a woman. Josephine dived into the pool, joining the others.
"Let's play Marco Polo," someone called out.
Josephine loved the game. She enjoyed moving around in the warm water with her eyes tightly closed. She would call out, "Marco!" and the others would have to reply, "Polo!" Josephine would dive after the sound of their voices before they got away, until she tagged someone, and then that person became "it."
They began the game. Cissy Topping was "it." She went after the boy she liked, Bob Jackson, but could not get him, so she tagged Josephine. Josephine closed her eyes tightly and listened for the telltale sound of splashes.
"Marco!" she called out.
There was a chorus of "Polo!" Josephine made a dive for the nearest voice. She felt around in the water. There was no one there.
"Marco!" she called.
Again, a chorus of "Polo!" She made a blind grab but reached only thin air. It did not matter to Josephine that they were faster than she; she wanted this game to go on forever, as she wanted this day to last until eternity.
She stood still, straining to hear a splash, a giggle, a whisper. She moved around in the pool, eyes closed, hands outstretched, and reached the steps. She took a step up to quiet the sound of her own movements.
"Marco!" she called out.
And there was no answer. She stood there, still.
"Marco!"
Silence. It was as though she were in a warm, wet, deserted world, alone. They were playing a trick on her. They had decided that no one would answer her. Josephine smiled and opened her eyes.
She was alone on the pool steps. Something made her look down. The bottom of her white bathing suit was stained with red, and there was a thin trickle of blood coming from between her thighs. The children were all standing on the sides of the pool, staring at her. Josephine looked up at them, stricken. "I - " She stopped, not knowing what to say. She quickly moved down the steps into the water, to cover her shame.
"We don't do that in the swimming pool," Mary Lou said.
"Polacks do," someone giggled.
"Hey, let's go take a shower."
"Yeah. I feel icky."
"Who wants to swim in that?"
Josephine closed her eyes again and heard them all moving toward the poolhouse, leaving her. She stayed there, keeping her eyes squeezed closed, pressing her legs together to try to stop the shameful flow. She had never had her period before. It had been totally unexpected. They would all come back in a moment and tell her that they had only been teasing, that they were still her friends, that the happiness would never stop. They would return and explain that it was all a game. Perhaps they were back already, ready to play. Eyes tightly shut, she whispered, "Marco," and the echo died on the afternoon air. She had no idea how long she stood there in the water with her eyes closed.
We don't do that in the swimming pool.
Polacks do.
Her head had begun pounding violently. She felt nauseous, and her stomach was suddenly cramping. But Josephine knew that she must keep standing there with her eyes tightly shut. Just until they returned and told her it was a joke.
She heard footsteps and a rustling sound above her and she suddenly knew that everything was all right. They had come back. She opened her eyes and looked up.
David, Mary Lou's older brother, was standing at the side of the pool, a terrycloth robe in his hands.
"I apologize for all of them," he said, his voice tight. He held out the robe. "Here. Come out and put this on."
But Josephine closed her eyes and stayed there, rigid. She wanted to die as quickly as possible.