POET'S ANATOMY
437
pearance of social success, the solution was painless. Of course
whenever I was taken to the movies I was dreadfully afraid of detec–
tion all the time and went so far as to dip the points of the sponges
into a bit of mucilage, which then soaked up and hardened inside
the sponge like nipples. Although the imitation was hardly accurate,
the boys, in their ignorance, accepted it gladly, and in the darknes"
they pressed and compressed the sponges until they exhausted them–
selves, while I enjoyed the evening in perfect freedom, sensationless.
When a hand strayed to my leg, an occasional slap on the wrist was
all that was needed; they returned happily to what I was willing to
give. In that way for some time I enjoyed my triumph- as word
spread among the boys at school- without yielding one breath of my
devotion to Sandy.
In fact, I was well over sixteen before my breasts began to
come up naturally- small and soft and perfect, just as they should
have been, I supposed-but at the same time a fine blonde down
began to come out on my face. At first it was only on the upper
lip, then later on the cheeks and chin, but I began to have visions
of becoming the bearded lady of the circus, as my earliest fears of
being a freak were revived. I wanted to shave off the down; but
Mother said that that would only encourage it, and sent me to a
doctor. The doctor said it might pass of itself, but if it didn't,
he could take the hairs out electrically. At first I refused to consider
that. But when my voice began to get distinctly hoarse and a bit
foggy, so that I began to be noticed with laughter at school and
even Daddy made fun of me sometimes, booming out at me with that
exploding voice of his, I went into virtual seclusion for a time,
trying to decide. Mortified, I pleaded the onset of painful menstruation
-which was utterly untrue. But with a little modest artifice here,
too, I even convinced Mother.
I stayed in my bedroom for almost seven days, meditating and
deciphering. It seemed to me clear that nature was at last completing
its vendetta against incest, and that I had been selected as the
object of a monstrous sexual revenge. The more I thought, the
more certain it seemed. But I determined to consult a specialist.
Pleading continued illness, I persuaded Mother to make an ap–
pointment with a gynecologist; in order to go alone, I called the
