Let's Go Play at the Adams'

looked at the bed and saw a small amount of blood on the sheet between Barbara's legs,

right there.

For a child of her age, Cindy was singularly unshocked. She bad seen it before. Sometimes

there was blood on the sheet where Mommy slept. Mommy had explained it to her-

needlessly; Cindy didn't care much one way or the other-that it was something which

happened regularly and normally to a woman once a month, but Cindy knew better. She

herself was a woman, that is, female, and it didn't happen to her nor could she believe that

it ever would. Cindy would be careful; she wouldn't let it happen. It would be easy.

Straight out, the blood on the bed had something to do with what men and women did

alone in the dark of night, had something to do with the whisperings and smiles of the

older kids-the "mystery." Had she been possessed with adult vocabulary, Cindy would have

said something like, "Oh, the hell with it." So John had done it to Barbara. Cindy's only

reaction was mild surprise; she didn't think either one of them was that old. After all, they

weren't married, and that had something to do with it. She looked at John and Dianne.

"How did you move her legs?"

John looked odd for a moment. "I didn't." "Then you couldn't have done it," Dianne said.

"But I did."

'

Dianne looked at Barbara and bit her lip. "Well, you did something anyway."

"Are you going to let her get up?" "We ought to feed her."

119

"She's going to be mad again .... "

"Oh." Dianne seemed to think for a moment.

Then she shrugged, still upset. Going over to the bed, she removed Barbara's blindfold:

Cindy watched her and saw that Barbara's eyes were wet, not with sorrow, not with

happiness, nor with any other emotion she had ever seen before. Maybe what men and

women did, hurt.

"Vmnn-umnnn!" Barbara couldn't talk, but she did. She looked at Dianne, raised her

head, looked down at herself, over at the door, and back up again. She wanted to go to the

bathroom. Even Cindy could understand that, and so could Dianne.

"We'd better let her get up."

John, who had watched this a little embarrassed, seemed somewhat relieved. Barbara

wasn't mad at him, Cindy thought, or at least anger wasn't the thing she felt most.

"Go get the others," John said, and Cindy went, taking time only to toss her towel across

the doorknob.

Using the normal, drawn-out manner, Freedom Five shifted Barbara to her feet and led her,

rope around the throat, to the bathroom. She didn't fight now, but when they got her

inside, she began to make sounds again. She bent low and rubbed her taped mouth on the

wash basin. She wanted to be ungagged.

"Do you want to go to the toilet or not?" Dianne

said.

More hopeless sounds. Dianne just shrugged.

Barbara gave her a look of anguish that even Cindy could feel. Then Barbara sat down on

the toilet and all except Dianne went out into the hall. Afterward they could hear a great

deal of water splashing and bathing inside. Eventually Barbara came out again shuffling,

hobbled-and they led her back to her room and tied her to the chair by the vanity.

Dianne fixed her a sandwich, a good one for a change. It was chicken, white bread, and

mayonnaise, and it smelled good to Cindy, who was getting hungry again as she did hourly.

When Barbara was ungagged

120

however, she didn't use her free hand to eat it. Instead she said, "Dianne, you've got to

untie me now. You've got to."

Dianne said nothing. She was standing to Barbara's right, near but not leaning on the

vanity.

"That boy raped me," Barbara said. "You know about that; you're a woman. I've got to wash

myself out or something."

"Don't you use the pill?" Dianne said with curiosity.

"No, of course I don't. Do you? Does anybody?"

Barbara wrenched at her ropes angrily. "Dianne, unless you're married or you're set on

going to bed with every boy you meet, there's no need to."

"I thought all girls who went to college did." Dianne seemed to consider this a most odd

piece of information. She regarded it with scholarly surprise.

"Dianne, it doesn't make any difference one way or the other. What makes a difference is

that I may be pregnant by that boy. Already pregnant. It only takes one sperm cell to

fertilize. You've got to let me go now. You've got to let me try."

Dianne remained silent, but Cindy thought that she looked aware, concerned about

Barbara in some way.

"Dianne?'~

"How could he do it?" Dianne remained quite puzzled about it.

"He did."

"Did he?" Then Dianne looked down at Cindy and said with a rather quaint prudery,

everything considered, "Well, never mind. We can't let you go. You know that."

"Why?" Barbara was on the edge of crying. "Dianne, he could make me have a baby. The

baby would live to be someone like you or me or any of us. You know, can I make it any

clearer? You've got to let me get out of here and douche or something."