Chapter 2

In 1956 there were no Sex Ed classes in school and no internet. Movies were censored. Television was new and even more censored. We learned about sex from older kids like Debbie’s sister. My mother never spoke to me about sex. My father? Unthinkable! My parents must have had sex one time to have me and then were done with it. It must have been distasteful to them. That’s what I had believed back then. Who knows, I might have been right. I didn’t even understand why my mother objected to Elvis.

So, for me, there was no way to learn about sex other than word of mouth, which I got in little bites. And now there was another piece to the mysterious puzzle. An orgasm. Whatever that was. Debbie’s sister had mentioned it to her and our friend shared it with Gina and me like we shared everything. I was curious, but it frightened me. Anything that had to do with sex was scary to me, but for some reason I needed to know more about it. Like a compulsion.

Both troubled and intrigued by a new piece of information about sex, I was not able to fall asleep. I lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. Debbie had told us where babies came from after her mother had given her the talk when she got her first period, and Gina had described her little brother’s thingie, from the pointy head to the wrinkly sack. That had been my total knowledge of sex before that day. But now Debbie had acquired more information from her older sister which she had shared with us. But what did it mean?

What was an orgasm? And how could both boys and girls have it when they were built differently down there? As I tossed and turned, I was mad at Debbie for not asking her sister more about it? How was I supposed to learn about sex? I had no one to ask. No older sister. Definitely not my mother. Absolutely not my father. Oh god! Not my father!

As I lay there I tried to recall what Debbie had said. It was the best feeling in the world. That’s what her sister had said. She had said a girl got an orgasm when her vagina was touched. But how did her sister know that? She wasn’t married. Someone must have told her. And maybe that person had lied.

I mean, I touched my vagina all the time. When I bathed. After I peed. When I put my panties on and adjusted them. I never had an orgasm. Or had I? Maybe I had it but didn’t know. No! Debbie’s sister had said it was the best feeling in the world. I would have noticed that.

I kicked at the blanket with frustration until it was forced down to my knees. It was a warm night and I didn’t need the blanket anyway. My pajamas were more than enough. I lifted both feet and kicked, flinging the blanket the rest of the way off.

Debbie’s sister had said when the vagina was touched. Hmm.

I slipped my fingertips under the waistband of my pajama bottoms and pressed down on my tummy as I slid my hand inside my panties. I felt the hairs. I was proud of those. First my period and then boobs and then hair. That made me feel like I was no longer a little girl. I was growing up. I patted the area, first where the hair was and then lower on both sides of the vertical slit. Nothing! Just like it always felt when I touched myself down there. What the hell was Debbie’s sister talking about? Doubt flooded my mind. Maybe it was me. Maybe I wasn’t normal. Maybe I couldn’t have feelings other girls had.

I pushed down harder on the spongy flesh on both sides of the slit. What I learned later in life was called labia. I poked it. Pinched it. Nothing!

I pulled my hand out of my panties and rolled onto my side, folding my legs with bent knees. A tear spilled from the corner of my eye and disappeared into the pillow. More tears joined it before I fell asleep.

Debbie, Gina, and I were sitting on Debbie’s front porch the next day. It was a warm, sunny day so all three of us wore shorts. Soon it would be too cold for them and back to skirts. Although, when it was exceptionally cold or the snow was deep we wore pants. Except to school. The public school dress code was skirts for girls and collared shirts for boys. And on Wednesdays, when we had assembly, the boys had to wear a white shirt and red tie. I never could fathom why. But we followed the rules.

Debbie and Gina were sitting on a two-person metal glider that faced the front street with the living room window to its back. They were rocking back and forth. I was sitting on a metal chair off to the side with my legs curled up underneath me so that I was sitting partly on my hip. The chair faced the glider and front door. We were talking about school soon starting.

“Hey,” Gina said to me, “you’ll be sixteen. You’ll be able to date.” She looked down as she asked in a softer voice, “Or did your parents change their mind about that like mine did?”

“They didn’t say I couldn’t,” I said, “but I don’t know if I want to. And who would date me anyway?”

Gina stopped the glider from rocking by planting her feet flat on the floor and said, “Oh my god, why wouldn’t you want to date! It’s the neatest thing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It just is.”

“But boys are a pain in the ass,” I said.

The front screen door swung open as I was saying that and Debbie’s older sister appeared. She chuckled. “Then you’re doing it wrong,” she said.

The three of us stared at her blankly. I finally asked her, “Doing what wrong?”

“Oh, never mind. Forget I said anything.”

“Like that orgasm bullshit!” I said with more anger than I had intended. I was still frustrated from the night before that I didn’t know something that had to do with sex.

The older girl’s eyes darted to Debbie who looked down. “So you tell your friends our secrets,” she said to Debbie with an accusing tone.

Without looking up, Debbie said, “You didn’t say it was a secret.”

“No, I guess I didn’t.” The older girl looked at me. “So you think it’s bullshit, do you? You have a lot to learn. Maybe when you grow up you’ll—”

“I am grown up!” I said louder than I intended. “I’ll be sixteen in a few days.”

I almost shouted that I had pubic hair down there, but caught myself in time. Thank God for that. I would have run home crying and hid in my house until school started.

Debbie’s sister smirked at me. “Okay, you’re grown up. But you still don’t know what an orgasm is, do you?”

Without waiting for an answer, Debbie’s sister skipped down the stairs and rushed to wherever she was going. Not that I had an answer. I was glad she was gone.

“She doesn’t lie about stuff like that,” Debbie said.

My eyes had been following her sister. I turned to Debbie. “Did she tell you more?”

“I didn’t ask.”

“Why not?” I said. I was getting more frustrated by the minute.

There was so much I didn’t know about sex. Once again, I felt like a little girl. Debbie shrugged and changed the subject back to dating boys. She had turned sixteen at the beginning of the summer but hadn’t dated yet. She was hoping that when school started a boy would ask her out. In those days the girl always waited for the boy. Not even knowing how unjust that was. Although, it took a great deal of pressure off the girl. No threat of rejection. Even if it had been done, there’s no way I would ever have had the courage to ask a boy.

Dating should have been something I craved, like Gina and Debbie did, but it scared me. What was I supposed to do on a date? Being alone with a boy frightened me. What if I didn’t have anything to say to him? What if I didn’t like him? Oh god, what if he didn’t like me? And the whole sex thing terrified me. I knew I wouldn’t go all the way until I was married. I didn’t even use a Tampon. The pad wasn’t comfortable, but at least it kept my virginity intact. But there was more to sex than making babies. Like the orgasm, whatever the hell that was.

That night I lay in bed thinking about boys and dating and sex. Those three things seemed to go together. Not even trying to fall asleep, I had my night lamp on as I stared at my Elvis poster on the wall at the foot of the bed. The more I was with Elvis the less old he seemed. He was cute and sexy. By sexy I mean he gave me those butterflies in my tummy I didn’t understand.