Part 5: Jean's Crimes
This story takes place in 1976 before there were cell phones and personal computers.
Chapter 7
When I got up around ten, the house was quiet. My head was pounding with a monstrous hangover. I had a large glass of orange juice and went for a long slow swim. After my shower, I went looking for breakfast. I found the keys to Cathy's Mercedes sitting on a note. Evidently, Michael and Cathy were both out for the day. My aunt apologized about not making breakfast. She said to help myself. The note said I could use the car to go to the beach and they would see me later for dinner at a nice restaurant. The note said to be home by six.
I found some eggs and ham to make an omelet. No one had put away the hard liquor, so I poured a stiff shot of vodka into a tall glass and filled it with orange juice. I gulped the screwdriver while I waited for my English muffin to toast. Nothing like the hair of the dog to cure a hangover.
I was still upset about being forced to work topless at the party. I remembered being jumpy the rest of the night after Manu asked what I would do if he grabbed my breast. Maybe, he just wanted to torture me with the threat. I made another screwdriver with extra vodka and carried my breakfast out to the patio. It was a beautiful day, and my headache was fading. I decided to change my flight reservations and leave for home this weekend. I had mixed feelings about my aunt and uncle. I was glad I came, but maybe they were best taken in small doses.
I put on my shrunken bikini and tied the strings tighter. What do I care about red marks? I grabbed my bag and tossed in a beach blanket and my book. I stopped at the door and went back to the kitchen. I took out the quart jug of orange juice and poured out some. I filled the bottle with my uncle's vodka and shook it up. I dropped the jug in my beach bag. Fifteen minutes later, I was at the beach. I guzzled some of the potent orange juice before stretching out on my stomach. The fog had just cleared, and the warm sun soon put me to sleep.
I woke with a start. I felt a small hand in the middle of my back. I pushed up on my forearms and saw Sonya bending over me.
"Hi. You're Jean, right? Mind if I join you?"
"Oh, hi Sonya. Please, I could use some cheering up."
I sat up and stretched while the diminutive girl laid her towel next to mine.
"What's the matter, Jean? Trouble in Paradise?"
"Yeah, that's about it."
Sonya said, "I get tired of my dad telling me I don't have a reason to be blue. He says we live in the best city in the best country in the world. Well, sometimes Paradise can be too much. I'm fucking tired of the damn Exposition. Every year, it's the same thing. The Exposition takes priority over everything else in life."
"I've only been here a few days, and already the damn Exposition is making me miserable. Last night, my aunt hosted a party for the Exposition officers. She had trouble finding waitresses, so I volunteered to help. I didn't realize she expected me to work in this skimpy bikini. Manu grabbed my ass, so I slapped him. The judge ruled I had assaulted an officer. The guests thought it was hilarious to make me work topless as my sentence."
Sonya said, "I have just the thing to help you relax. It would be a shame to waste a gorgeous day in Paradise being angry."
She lit a joint and passed it to me. I was glad my aunt had shown me it was safe to smoke weed and even have sex on the beach. I was beginning to like being a hedonist. I handed Sonya the jug of orange juice, and we both took a big gulp from the jug. After we finished the joint, I rolled onto my back and stared at the seagulls darting overhead against a deep blue sky with just a couple of puffy clouds. The warm sand and the cool sea breeze felt wonderful. The marijuana and vodka left me feeling very relaxed.
I woke up confused. Sonya was shaking my shoulder. "Hey Jean, I think you need to get some sunblock on your pale white skin. Roll over, and I'll do your back."
I rolled over and said, "Thanks."
I didn't object when she undid the ties to my top. Her delicate hands felt delightful as she rubbed lotion over my back. I could feel the tension evaporate. Yeah, this was life in Paradise. Sonya let me rest for several minutes before she asked me to do her back. I reached for the strings to my top, but she stopped me.
"You don't need your top. There's no one else around. I already ditched mine."
I raised up on my forearms to look around. Sonya was right. The closest person was a couple of hundred feet away. I looked up to the top of the cliff and saw a policeman taking pictures with a large telephoto lens.
I pointed to the top of the cliff and said, "What about the cop taking pictures?"
Sonya laughed. "You mean Joe? Don't worry about the pervert. I doubt he even has film in the camera. He's just making sure the tourists are safe. He's never bothered a native."
I told myself to relax and enjoy Paradise. If the cop didn't worry Sonya then who was I to doubt her. I put my top in my bag and went to work on Sonya's back. She was very petite for an eighteen-year-old. I doubt she was even five feet tall. I marveled at her muscle tone. When I finished, we both laid down on our stomachs.
Sonya said, "Being free to enjoy my summer is why I don't want to work in the Exposition this year. I'm going to college next year, and I've never had a summer off to enjoy the beach. Can you believe it? I live in Paradise, and yet, every summer, I work indoors on the fucking Exposition. This year was the worst. My own father suggested I play the woman in 'The Naked Maji.' Oh great, I get to spend my summer lying naked on a bed of pillows with my breasts and pussy exposed to all my friends as well as strangers. Can you believe he said it would be good for me as well as the city?"
"I thought they hired professional actors?"
"The whole Exposition is built around volunteers. Over two thousand volunteers are working behind the scenes in support roles. Normally, there is a lot of competition for acting roles. However, attendance has been slipping in recent years, so the stupid board decided to give the public what they want. This year every painting selected contains one or more nudes. They not only want to have more nudes, but they are insisting on the actors being gorgeous. To their surprise, they're having trouble filling all the roles."
"Last night, I heard the Exposition needs more actors. My uncle said he wasn't worried, but I don't understand how they can fill so many slots by this Sunday."
Sonya sat up and stretched. She finished the orange juice and vodka before she said, "Well, it's not my problem. My only problem is I'm getting hungry."
"We could walk up to the main drag and get some food."
Sonya clapped her hands and said, "I can see help is on the way."
Sonya stretched her hand up and waved. I watched her small perky breasts jiggle vigorously. Her firm breasts were a perfect match to her small frame, and I had an urge to touch them to see if they were as soft as they looked.
I looked around to see who had caught her attention. I groaned when I recognized the police chief's son Ray who had helped his father molest me on the flight from San Francisco. He was accompanied by two unfamiliar young men. I started to reach for my bag to retrieve my top.
Sonya said, "No need to put on your top. They're all friends. Ray is the police chief's son. The tall blond is Pat. He's the mayor's son. We all call him Ken because he looks just like Barbie's boyfriend. The big black hunk is James. He was an all-state running back for Santa Teresa High School a couple of years ago. Now, he plays for Stanford. I think he's majoring in engineering.
The three young men ambled over. They were pretty cool about staring at our breasts. What I mean is that when they weren't staring at our breasts, they were staring at our legs. I moved to the end of my towel and hugged my legs against my chest. Pat sat down and placed a jug full of reddish liquid in the center of our group. Sonya was sitting cross-legged with her back arched to push out her breasts. Ray sat between Sonya and me with his arm around our waists. I thought about the phrase, 'like father like son.' James had a large McDonalds bag that smelled wonderful.
Pat held out the gallon jug, "You girls thirsty? It's my special recipe."
Ray laughed, "Yeah, a mixture of fruit punch and whatever alcohol he can steal from his dad's liquor cabinet."
Sonya grabbed the jug and Ray helped hold it while she tilted her head back for a long swig. She passed it to me, and I took a long swallow. I thought it would be horrible, but I was thirsty, and the sweet fruity drink tasted wonderful. I handed the jug to James. Ray lit up a joint and passed it to Sonya after taking a long hit. He lit a second joint and handed it to me. My stomach growled out a protest that it was empty.
James said, "I've got a dozen sandwiches. You have a choice of burgers or chicken."