Chapter 17

The APPLAUSE sign above the stage went out, but like over-enthusiastic trained seals the audience went on barking and clapping. They finally returned to their cages -- uh seats -- when our hostess began talking over them.

"Thank you, thank you. Thank you very much. I am very pleased to welcome our guests to GabFest's stage this afternoon, Miss Diane Walker and her mother, Katherine..."

And it is SHOWTIME! The stage manager had shit a brick when I emerged from the green room stripped naked, but he didn't hesitate to give me a nudge in the small of my back at the introduction. I wouldn't have minded a pat on my butt, either, of course.

" ... As you probably already know -- whoops... !"

I emerged from the wings to strut my stuff -- all of my stuff -- leaving the backstage crew rolling on the floor laughing at their boss's consternation. By way of contrast Mom was right behind me wearing her finest top-drawer real estate agent uniform – knee-length pleated navy skirt, ivory satin blouse with conservative ruffles under a navy blazer, a little gold and diamond pin in the lapel, which she'd earned as top agent in the district over the last five years, carrying her attaché case. There were whistles and catcalls, but I don't think they were for her, which is too bad 'cause she really looks sharp in that outfit.

Ah me. Judging by the reception I was faced with the mental equivalent of a middle school audience. Well, they were in for an education this day.

Pro that she was, Gabby Pomfret, our interviewer -- the "Gab" of GabFest -- quickly regained her poise. After all, this was live TV!

"Well! I guess I should have expected she'd make a dramatic entrance!

"But to go on, as you probably know, until now The Board of Education has steadfastly refused all our requests to present on our show -- or any other show, for that matter -- their side of the controversial Naked in School program, better known simply as The Program."

Not that I was there with the approval of the Board of Ed you understand. Anything but!

"As most of you probably already know, and can obviously see, Miss Walker is here representing Central High School's controversial Naked in School program. Recently Miss Walker led an impromptu naked bicycle ride through the downtown area to draw attention to the controversial NiS program, rumored to be a source of recent unrest in the school corridors."

I swear she talked in italics, her drawl emphasizing the key words to extract the desired reaction from her audience. And if she said "controversy" or "controversial" one more time I was going to gag.

More tumult from the unwashed. I'm glad I had Mom there for backup. As rewarding as the reaction to my nudity was it had only made the natives more restless. The camera operators -- one of them a woman -- were fogging their viewfinders, the men drooling like bassets over a steak. I was very conscious of the all-seeing lenses tracking me across the stage.

Obviously Mom and I were in enemy territory, a conservative bastion long an outlet for venomous rants and dire predictions of the collapse of our society and culture.

GabFest, our local TV station's community talk show, was top-rated in its afternoon time slot, thanks primarily to catering to humanity's taste for the lurid and salacious while ranting about demon liberal politicians and the decline of civilization. In my opinion it wasn't much of a civilization if a few naked teenagers could bring it down, and this show was hardly an example of the best our culture could produce.

Which, of course, was the main reason we'd chosen it to mount our counterattack. What's the use of preaching to the choir? The unpredictability of being broadcast live and working before a live audience only added a bit of zest to the exercise.

I had no illusions that I was raising its tone with my appearance. I was doing my best to cater to its audience in the hopes of correcting the mistaken impressions about The Program.

I note for the record that none of The Powers That Be had been consulted about my appearance. Even Mrs. Devers could truthfully claim she knew nothing. I admit I was following her observation, given to me after I'd lubricated the School Board's chairs with aloe gel, that it's sometimes better to do something and apologize afterwards than ask permission and risk being turned down.

The only other person who knew was Maria -- I had not forgotten her teamwork lesson.

I had to ask myself what in hell was I doing here, only to admit it was my own damn fault. My exhibitionism on behalf of The Program had finally bitten me in my bare butt. Leading the naked bike parade around town at rush hour had made a bigger splash than a belly flop off the ten-meter platform. And if you're thinking Greg's and my first fuck in full view at my birthday party topped the naked bike ride, keep in mind the audience for that had been limited to family and friends, while my zip-line fly-in at the pep rally had drawn a crowd only to the school's baseball diamond. Grid locking downtown at rush hour got a lot more attention.

The day after my ride we -- Mom, Elaine and I -- were besieged in our home by vultures masquerading as reporters. It took a police escort to get me to school, which was all but locked down to keep the news hounds out. The media wanted pictures, of course, and some wanted to get much too up close and entirely too personal, so we circled our wagons. While the police kept the reptiles at bay and discouraged sneak attacks, our backyard pool was unusable thanks to tree climbers, hot-air balloonists, traffic helicopters and probably drones and satellites, all with long telephoto lenses.

Now understand, we don't mind being seen nude -- at least I don't -- but we wanted to keep our private lives private. What happens in our house, on our property, stays there. Period.

At least since my leashed and collared romp in the park, that is. We all have these little slipups.

In reaction to this attention, my first attempt to control the media had been a sit-down after school that first day after the ride -- there went swimming practice, darn it -- with a young, sympathetic intern reporter/photographer for the local dead-tree daily. A Central High grad in my brother's class, she'd gone through the program herself, which helped.

Unfortunately, that appearance turned out to be nothing more than chum on the water. Deprived of facts, the media indulged in a frenzy of rumor and speculation, most of it scandalously inaccurate. The Powers That Be huddled behind closed doors, dithering over what to do, wanting to throw me to the dogs but afraid of the bad publicity that might create. Finally, after a week of it, I decided to go on the offensive on the theory that by full -- or over exposure, in my case -- we might succeed in fighting fire with fire by getting the accurate story out and, at the same time, lure the trolls said to be after me out of their holes.

That's one reason I made sure Maria knew about my TV debut. I wanted her covering my back.

Note for the record: Maria was not happy I was putting myself in harm's way -- again.

Given Gabby's reaction to my display of skin it looked like my first spark had found dry tinder. This was what her show thrived on, sex and controversy. My nakedness was perfectly legal thanks to the decree that established The Program. I imagined phones ringing all over town as friends alerted friends to my display, while the station's switchboard lit up like Hollywood Boulevard. A naked teenager could still boost ratings, and being tall, athletic, and pubic-ly bald I offered a lot of nakedness.

I gave the audience and cameras a further thrill by sticking my butt out at them when I bent over to make kissy face with the somewhat shorter Gabby, a well stacked bottle blonde with a pixie cut, fashionably horn-rimmed glasses, more teeth than a great white and the delivery of a brass band. At her invitation Mom and I took our places center stage on the loveseat -- me on a towel, of course -- angled toward where she occupied an easy chair, a table beside her for her mug of whatever and a stack of index cards.

Nervous? Me? You bet your ass! This woman had a reputation for going for the jugular. Given my 'druthers I'd prefer doing an inward three-and-a-half off the platform into a damp sponge. After reaching out for a sip of water from the glass on the coffee table in front of us I sat back and demurely crossed my ankles, using the monitor facing us to analyze the camera angle. For now I'd give 'em tits, navel and knees, saving my big gun for later.

Mom dug into her attaché case -- it hadn't been just for show -- and handed me the notes we'd all collaborated on.

"Now Diane -- may I call you Diane?" Gabby began innocuously.

I fired a warning shot across her bow. "My friends call me Dee," I responded in a cool tone. "I'd prefer Diane for now."

"Oh, yes, -- uh -- well, Diane..."

"Thank you, Gabby. And this is my Mom."

"You can call me Katherine," my mother added with a slight smile, "or Ms. Walker."

"A pleasure, Katherine, thank you."

In what was called the green room -- which was actually baby-barf beige -- Mom and I had decided we'd let Gabby set the ball rolling. Accordingly we let silence settle on the stage like a dead whale, leaving it for her to kick away, conversationally speaking. I had my agenda, and she had hers.

This was going to be like fishing, only who was the fish and who the fisher?

"Yes, well, uh, Diane. Perhaps we should begin with how you came to be involved in The Naked in School Program in the first place. I understand your brother was one of the early participants."

"He was," I admitted.

"That must have made life at home rather interesting for you? He's what? Four years older than you? You must have been about eleven? That must have been quite exciting and educational." She flashed a suggestive smile and wink at the camera.

Cue the chorus. Unlike my Lunch Bunch of five or six girls this one was about ten times larger and had tenor and baritone sections. Given it was in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday I suspect it was largely made up of the retired and unemployed.

I let the tumult die down. "We all participated, as a family, in being naked, if that's what you mean. It was all part of The Program's outreach."

"All of you?"

"All three of us -- Mom and my brother Carl and me. After all, the whole purpose of The Program is to become comfortable with the human body," I pointed out. "What better place to start than in our own home?"

Rather than confuse the issue we'd agreed to leave Elaine out of the mix, given she'd entered our lives relatively recently.

"I'm sure it must have had an interesting impact on your budding sexuality, and your relationship with your older brother.

"And what about you Ms. W ... Katherine?"

"Oh yes, I participated, too," Mom admitted, "though at first I was a little hesitant, probably because of my conservative upbringing. But I was determined that my children should not be saddled with my inhibitions. Carl and Dee have always had a healthy sibling relationship and of course he'd seen me bathe her when she was just a tyke. We even bathed together on occasion, until he was -- oh, I don't know -- maybe about six or seven, when he resented what he called 'being treated like a baby.' And later there were the occasional incidental exposures that any family has.

"But this was a new experience for all of us, strolling around naked, upstairs and down, doing all the usual things a family does. Whoever was cooking -- which most often was me or Dee -- did wear an apron, but we even ate our meals nude. It is quite liberating to be doing everyday things while totally exposed, feeling the air all over our naked skin."

Of course the audience sang their praises to these revelations.

"So obviously you approve of The Program."

"I have from the beginning! The reason I made sure that Carl was signed up for it was because he was rather shy, especially around girls and his being a bit of a -- nerd, I guess you would say -- I felt his social development needed encouragement, that he needed to loosen up, blossom socially, expand his circle of friends."

"And how did that work out?"

"Quite well. Other students noticed him, of course, and got to know him better as a person, and he opened up to them more. He met a delightful girl, who later took part in The Program herself. Perhaps you remember Beth Finch? She put on quite a display as Miss School Spirit during her week naked in school. In fact, she was the model for the 'School Spirit' statue that now graces the school grounds."

"That's the lovely bronze nude that was executed by Henry Carver, the young blind sculptor," Gabby quickly filled in for the benefit of her viewers. "His visit to this very stage was most illuminating as he displayed some of his artistry and explained how he worked -- by touch. I'm sure posing for him was quite an experience for Miss Finch, seeing as how he is blind and she was nude."

Yeah, we get the point, The Stick put in snidely. She was naked and he was feeling her up.

"You'd have to ask Beth about that," Mom responded coolly once the animal noises had died down. "She's at Harvard now, a pre-med major. She's very busy. I doubt she'd have the time to fly out here just to be on your show."

Ouch! Was That patronizing! The Stick observed.

"Uh -- yes," Gabby agreed, fumbling with some cards on the table beside her. "Now Dee -- I mean, Diane."

I bobbed my head.

"I understand that during their senior year -- when you were in eighth grade -- your brother and his girlfriend presented a rather graphic sex education program at your middle school."

Ah hah. There was a baited hook to be avoided. In the words of showbiz, when GabFest had contacted us about appearing on the show my people (meaning Mom and Elaine) had talked with GabFest's people (whoever they were) to set the ground rules. The agreement was that I would talk only about The Program as it was in Central High. Rather than give her ideas we had carefully avoided mentioning specific things we would NOT talk about, like this one. Imagine the uproar that would result from talking about naked sixth-, seventh-, and eighth-graders watching a live sex show that even included gay senior high students doing their thing!

Obviously she'd done her research, but I wasn't about to take this bait and tried to reject it courteously.

"I'm sorry, but that has nothing to do with The Naked in School Program in Central High," I responded evenly.

"But your brother and his girlfriend were participants in The Program. That is where they met and where, as I understand it, the idea for the middle school sex education program was initiated."

"It has no bearing on the challenges facing The Naked in School Program in Central High now," I pointed out reasonably. "I'm here to discuss that. Nothing more."

"Surely it must have been a result of The Program. Perhaps it is preparation for The Program."

"Not at all. It was an entirely different thing. There was no connection. That course is part of the middle school curriculum, not high school."

"But..."

"You'll have to speak to the people at middle school for further information on that," Mom put in firmly, all but hanging a STOP sign on Gabby's nosy nose.

Apparently the witch got the message, for the moment, at least.

"I'm sorry, I see we need to take a break for a commercial," Gabby announced. "We'll be right back with Diane Walker and her Mom talking about being Naked in School after a few messages from our sponsors."

During the break the silence between Gabby and us was ... dare I use the word "pregnant" here?

"Welcome back," Gabby began when the stage manager pointed to her after a short countdown, even though I saw Gabby had an ear bud that probably connected her to the control room. "We're here this afternoon with Diane Walker and her mother, speaking about the controversial Naked in School Program in Central High."

Mom and I bobbed our heads and smiled benignly. I expected Gabby to push the sex ed issue and was ready to push back but I didn't need to. Instead she came at me from a different direction.

"Diane, I hear that you now chair some secret committee at Central High trying to rewrite the rules governing the Naked in School Program..."

I jumped in.

"Excuse me, first of all, there is nothing secret about our committee. It is the Student Advisory Committee for the Naked in School Program, or SACNISP for short. Everyone knows about it. There are eight members, two from each grade, plus an advisor. We welcome visitors to our meetings, students, faculty, even parents, though we don't get many. It's pretty boring stuff, especially since we follow Robert's Rules of Order. But then that's why they exist, to keep things orderly."

Order was the last thing I expected here.

"As for the rules governing the NiS Program, we are not trying to rewrite them. That is for people way above us. However we do want some of the rules clarified and perhaps adjusted to better meet the goals of The Program. Our role is strictly advisory."

I made the mistake of pausing for a breath, which gave her an opening.

"Well correct me if I am wrong, but you are a freshman? How did someone as young as you come to be the chairperson of this so called -- what did you call this very important committee? -- SAC..."

"SACNISP," I repeated patiently, knowing she was fully familiar with the acronym. "Yes, I'm a freshman. I was chosen as one of the representatives..."

"Who chose you?"

I got the feeling she thought she was closing in for the kill. But what, or who, was the victim?

"Vice Principal Devers selected each of the representatives. As I said, there are two from each class, and we meet..."

"Why you?"

"You'd have to ask her."

"And she designated you chair? Why?"

I put a lid on my temper. She had the tactics of a tick. I'd been warned that getting under a victim's skin was one of Gabby's skills.

"No. Mrs. Devers did not name me to chair the committee. I was elected..."

"By whom?"

"By the committee." I really hate being interrupted.

"But why would they elect you? You're only a freshman!"

I thought we'd already established that, The Stick observed.

I wished The Stick would shut up, this was tricky enough already. "Tell the truth" was the best advice Mom had ever given me.

"As it happened, I was late to the first meeting and found out when I got there that they'd stuck me with the job. I suspect nobody else wanted it."

"They must have had some other reason. Isn't one of the seniors on the committee a captain on the football team? And the other the head cheerleader? Why wouldn't they lead?"

"Yes to both -- and if you know that much it is hardly a secret, is it?"

I couldn't resist taking that shot.

"But you'd have to ask them why me. As I said, it was probably because they didn't want the job. Frankly, it takes up far too much of my time, and believe me, it was not my idea. If anyone else wants it they're welcome to it."

In a pig's eye, The Stick snorted. You love it!

Shut up! I need to concentrate.

Shutting up.

That'll be a first!

Gabby bored in. "And who set up the committee, and why?"

"Vice Principal Devers set it up, because some of The Program policies and guidelines were causing confusion."

She consulted her cards. "And what was Mr. John Worthington's relationship to the establishment of SACNISP?"

Jeez! She had done her research. That wasn't a baited hook coming at me, it was a harpoon! I felt Mom stiffen beside me. I chose my words carefully.

"By the time the committee was established he had left the school," I answered.

"Under arrest," she responded ominously. "What was your relationship to him?"

Until now, thanks to Mrs. Devers and the forces of law and order, my part in the Worm's downfall hadn't become public. As a minor my identity had been protected. Oh there were rumors, but nothing had ever been confirmed, and I was not about to do so now on live TV. Just the mention of that creep's name made my skin crawl.

"When I entered Central High he was the Naked in School Program Coordinator," I answered carefully, avoiding using his name for fear I'd barf.

"Who appointed him?"

"Some mor ... bureaucrat in Washington, I guess. But..."

"Were you in The Program?"

"Not immediately." I saw no reason to mention that a friend of mine was, which had triggered the whole mess. Where in hell was she going with this?

"But very soon Mr. Worthington put you in The Program. By what authority? By virtue of his position as Program Coordinator?"

I felt like I was tiptoeing through a minefield.

"Actually, according to the rules of The Program, that's within the powers of any faculty and staff, not just him."