The pink limo pulled up outside my house and stopped. The driver got out and walked around to the right side and opened the rear door so that I could get it in. I pulled up my dress and petticoats and climbed into the car. My two guests were already seated. One girl was a blonde; the other, an Asian. I already knew their ages-14 and 16 respectively. I also knew that the blonde had suffered a hip disarticulation about two years ago: she now had no right leg, not even a stump. The Asian had no left foot; she had lost it in an accident six months previously.
There were no crutches on the seat or anywhere else visible in the car; the driver had placed them in the trunk when she picked up the girl. Nor was it obvious once inside the car that either of them was missing all or part of a leg, for both were wearing long, full-skirted dresses and full petticoats. Jan, the Asian, was wearing a short-sleeve two-tone dress, with a white bodice and floral-print skirt. Lynn, the blonde, was wearing a sleeveless pink jumper dress with a white blouse. For what it1s worth, I was wearing a long, light-blue denim dress.
"I am a man," I said to the girls. "I am straight, not gay. I like to wear girls' and women's clothing. I am not sexually aroused by it, and I do not plan to have sex with you." I gave them a moment to absorb what I said, then went on. "I will ask you for a couple of favors, however. One is that you not change your clothes today, even if they get a bit soiled, which they probably will. (We won't be riding around in this pink car all day, I assure you, but we do have a cleaning service.) The other is that you not use your crutches. We do have grab bars and the like on our boat (which we'll ride on later); otherwise, my chauffeur and assistants will assist you in moving about. If it gets chilly, you may wish to put on these jackets, but I think it will be warm enough, even at the boat dock, for both of you. Now, let's move to the center of the car; the ride will be much more comfortable there."
We slid and scooted to the middle of the limo, and I signaled over the intercom to the driver to go. Soon we were speeding down a freeway through San Diego. I let the girls make up a list of places they wanted to go, and for the next few hours we cruised around the city. We ate lunch at a nice outdoor restaurant where we were able to park the limo close to the table where we sat. Jan was able to walk the short distance on her stump, but Lynn used one of her crutches for support. Later, we sat on the ground in a small park overlooking the harbor; this time, neither girl used crutches. We made a trip to the ladies' room together: I supported Jan's left side, while Lynn was on my left, and our chauffeur, Mara, was on Lynn's left. With all our dresses bumping together (Mara was wearing a calf-length black skirt and white blouse), nobody noticed that Lynn or Jan was missing anything--or that I was not a woman. We talked and giggled a lot in the restroom, which wasn't too dirty. Soon, we were in the limo, heading for the dock and my boat.
The small catamaran was docked close to the shore, so it didn't take long to board. Lynn hobbled aboard first; I held her by the waist as she ascended the short set of steps that comprised the gangway. Jan came behind me; I held her hands as she momentarily had to place her weight on her footless leg while climbing the steps. Mara returned to the limo; she had other errands to run. Sandra and Susan, both in floral-print miniskirts with matching T-shirts, were our crew.
After we settled in the main cabin, the boat headed out to sea. "We'll visit a couple of the little islands out there, then cruise the harbor," Sandra announced. "If you need anything to eat or drink, just ring, and Susan or I will get it for you."
An hour or so later, Lynn was sitting on my lap, and Jan was asleep on my shoulder. Susan was at the helm, and Sandra, now wearing a sweatshirt over her T-shirt, was in the cabin reading a magazine. The boat was moving slowly through an isolated cove on one of the offshore islands. Another boat pulled up next to ours, and three men, possibly more, jumped from it and onto our boat. One pulled out a gun. Lynn screamed.
"Shuddup!" snapped the man with the gun, who was now pointing it at us. A second man climbed the steps to the wheelhouse. An instant later he fell down the steps after Susan kicked him in the head. A third man tried to come aboard, but Sandra gave him a quick karate chop to the neck and sent him sprawling overboard. The first man fired a shot out the door and high into the air. Lynn stood up, frightened. "Shuddup!" said the first man again. Apparently that was the limit of his vocabulary.
For what seemed like the longest time, he pointed the gun at Lynn. She froze in place; Susan stood at the top of the steps to the wheelhouse; Jan was now awake and sobbing, sitting at my side; Sandra stood over the motionless body of the third man. I made what turned out to be a fatal decision.
I meant to knock the gun out of the first man's hand with my purse. Instead, all I did was make sure the aim was a bit low when it fired. The bullet passed through Lynn's dress and into her non-existent right leg, out the open door behind her, and into the head of an accomplice-probably the second man, who must have swum around to the other side and tried to sneak aboard behind Lynn. (We didn't see him; we just heard a scream and then a splash.)
Jan screamed, Lynn fainted, Sandra karate-chopped the gunman, and I pushed him and the second man overboard. They swam back to their boat, which they then started up and took off. Susan called the coast guard. When they came, Susan and Sandra did all the talking. The coast guard never learned that I was really a man, or that Jan was missing a foot, though Lynn's situation (with a couple of holes in her dress) did require an explanation.
Later, Susan came in with an announcement. "The coast guard found the boat. Two guys were aboard, neither in good shape. They matched our descriptions. There may be a police line-up or something. Sandra and I will take care of it."
"What about the other guy?" I asked.
"Nothing," Susan said. "There are a lot of sharks out here sometimes. . ."
We ate dinner that evening in silence.