“If I move in to Sunny Palms, will you ever come and visit me?” Betsy asked.
Laura thought for a minute. “I don't know, Betsy. I'll see.”
***
That evening, Betsy told her parents of the discourse between her and Laura, and how Laura wanted Betsy to move to Sunny Palms permanently.
“This is a very difficult situation, Betsy,” her mother replied. “Why don't we have a family meeting after supper, and we'll discuss what can be done about it.”
After the Parkers had eaten supper, Megan cleared the table and Carl washed the dishes. Once the table had been cleared and cleaned, Carl and Megan sat on either end of the table, with Laura sitting at the side and Betsy sitting on her pad next to Laura.
Megan turned to Laura first. “Please tell us what's the matter.”
Laura sighed. “I want my privacy; I want my space. Mom, you keep saying that everyone is different, and that includes Betsy, but there's acceptable different, and there's unacceptable different. Betsy is unacceptable different.”
“I understand how hard it is for you, Laura,” Megan acknowledged, “But you must understand the situation from Betsy's point of view. I'm sure it's equally hard for her, if not more so.”
“I'm happy when I'm at Sunny Palms,” Betsy explained, “but I'm also happy with you, dad and Laura. If I moved to Sunny Palms, I would miss you all, and I'm only eighteen.”
“I know,” Carl replied. “Many eighteen-year-olds, if not most, still live at home with their parents, but this is such a difficult situation, Betsy. Laura wants to not be around you anymore, but you want to be here with your family. To be honest, Betsy, if you moved out now, your mother and I would miss you terribly.”
“And I would miss you,” Betsy responded, “and I would miss Laura.”
Betsy turned to face Laura.
“Laura, I don't want to leave you. You're the only full-time playmate and friend I have ever had.”
“I've enjoyed playing with you, Betsy,” Laura assured her, “but I'm not a little kid anymore. I have a reputation, and it's at stake, and it's not fair. Parents have taken their kids out of my school because I'm your sister, and it's not my fault.”
“Do you think it's anymore my fault that I have eosinophilic externitis?” Betsy asked. “My reputation is also at stake because of something I can't help. Don't you and I walk in the same shoes, Laura?”
“No, we don't!” Laura cried. “I wear clothing, but I'm still treated like a freak and a laughing stock. Sometimes, I wish I were an only child, or that I could have a normal sister.”
Laura turned to her parents. “Can I be excused? I want to be on my own for a while.”
Without waiting for an answer, Laura left the table and shut herself in her room.
For the next few minutes, silence fell upon the table, in which the three remaining parties contemplated their next move. It was Betsy who broke the silence.
“I'll go,” she said.
“Go?” asked her mother. “Go where?”
“To Sunny Palms. If it's really going to make Laura's life better, I will move there.”
“So you'll live there?” asked Betsy's father. “How will you make a living? How will you pay for your accommodations?”
“Catherine works as a pet groomer. She's always been a good friend. I'm sure she wouldn't mind helping to support me.”
“That won't be enough,” Carl told Betsy. “You and Catherine are both so young. You don't have a steady income yet.”
“I know,” said Betsy, “but with the way I am, I don't see how I can get a job.”
Another period of silence passed before Megan spoke to Betsy. “We'll help you, Betsy. We can send you money to help pay for your living arrangements. But I must ask you one question: is this really what you want?”
Betsy's mind fell into a swarm of thoughts. She thought of continuing to live with her parents and Laura, in which Laura continued to act upset and embarrassed towards Betsy, as long as Betsy remained under her family's roof. Her parents wouldn't mind. They loved Betsy purely, openly and wholeheartedly. At the same time, Betsy now knew that Laura would mind, that Betsy's presence would continue to eat away at the sisterly bond that had once drawn Betsy and Laura together. It was tragic, but perhaps the only way to rekindle that bond would be to give Laura what she wanted: some time to spend, away from Betsy, to think, grow and learn to feel compassion for the way Betsy lived. Betsy thought of living in the lush greenery at Sunny Palms, with Catherine, Susan and the many other people with whom she enjoyed spending her time. She would miss her parents, and Laura, for sure, but Carl and Megan would always be there for her. Maybe, one day, Laura might do the same.
“It is what I want,” Betsy replied, in a final, decided voice.
Carl nodded his head. “That settles it then. When do you want to make the move to Sunny Palms?”
“I'll email Susan,” Betsy explained. “We will set up a date that gives me time to pack and we'll arrange for the helicopters and plane to take me over. I'll send you postcards; I promise.”
“Well, my dear girl,” Megan smiled at Betsy, “That is a really big decision for you to come to. I can tell that you have thought about this a lot. I am so proud of you. Your father and I will come to visit you as often as we can. We will also accompany you when you fly over, and help you get settled when you arrive at Sunny Palms.”
“Thank you,” Betsy smiled. “That would help me feel so much better. Can I please be excused from the table? I want to go see Laura. I'll tell her my plans and try to comfort her.”
“Are you sure?” Carl asked. “Laura left the table because she was uncomfortable with you. You're only going to make her worse.”
“I just want to let her know that I have decided to move to Sunny Palms,” Betsy explained. “Besides, I'm good at finding the right words if I have some time to think about it. I know I can't make her feel comfortable with me again right at this moment, but I think I can reassure her, just a little.”
“All right Betsy,” her father smiled. “You're excused.”
Betsy left the table and stepped out of the kitchen, walked down the hallway, and knocked on Laura's bedroom door.
“Come in,” came a soft, timid voice from inside.
Betsy opened the door and, still standing in the doorway, turned to face Laura who was sitting on the edge of her bed, looking at the floor. Laura wasn't crying, but it was clear that she was depressed and lost.
“Laura,” Betsy began, “I'm really sorry your life has come to this. You're right. It's not your fault I'm so different.”
Laura looked up from the floor and faced Betsy, her face still downcast, but already showing the first hint of reassurance.
“I know,” replied Laura. “Look, Betsy. I'm sorry I got so upset with you. I'm even sorry I walked away from the table like that. It's just that my world is falling apart, and it's all because of you. Oh Betsy, every time I see you ... like that ... I can feel my privacy being invaded, like you're a spectacle being shoved in my face. I know it's not your fault, and I know I shouldn't be mad at you, but I can't help but to be mad at you ... and embarrassed as well.”
“I understand,” Betsy replied. “Laura, it's okay to be embarrassed, maybe a little mad even. It's natural. Much of the time, that's exactly how I feel. I'm often mad that I'm afflicted with this condition and embarrassed that it's keeping me from living a normal human life. You and I are more alike than you realize, Laura. I believe that, one day, you will come to discover that.”
For once, Laura smiled. “I love you, Betsy. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.”
After hearing that statement from Laura, Betsy stepped into Laura's room and stood in front of where Laura was sitting on her bed.
“I love you too Laura,” Betsy smiled back. “Laura, I have decided to move to Sunny Palms. I have given the matter a lot of thought, and you're right. You need your space, and I could use mine too. Now that I think of it, I want to see more of the w
orld, do more, and lead a more independent life.”
“I think it will be good for you,” Laura replied. “Betsy,” she sighed, “I wish I could say that I'll come and visit you, but I wouldn't feel comfortable entering those grounds again, the grounds that have caused me so much bullying and mockery. I want to see you again, but I don't want to look weird.”
“You are not weird, Laura, and don't let anyone make you think that. We are all born naked and unashamed. I was, you were; even the people who oppose me, who make fun of you, were. But there's a vicious circle that perpetuates shame towards our own, and each other's bodies. Children are born with no qualms to nudity; their parents and society teach them that nudity is dirty and shameful; the children grow up believing those teachings. Then, when they have children of their own, they teach their own children, who at birth had no qualms to nudity, that nudity is dirty and shameful, and that cycle just keeps repeating itself. I have come to think of that cycle as being like a giant ball of enormous mass, that keeps on rolling and rolling, and I am but a pebble in its path, a pebble that's glued to the ground. My eosinophilic externitis has managed to disturb and slightly impede the massive ball's motion, but in the end, that giant ball just keeps on rolling right over me.”
“Ouch!” cried Laura. “That must hurt. So you're saying that it's like culture is rolling on top of you, crushing you.”
“Exactly,” Betsy replied.
“That's very sad to hear,” Laura acknowledged. “Hey Betsy, I've noticed how you have been brushing a towel on your arm, once every couple of years or so, since you wore your mother's dress, to test if you're still allergic. Your parents and I haven't made a fuss about it, since it is an understandable behavior. It hasn't done you any severe harm. Maybe you could try putting something on.”
Betsy shook her head. “A rash comes up every time I brush my arm with a towel, and it's itchy, sometimes painful. Even if my allergy wasn't fatal anymore, there would be no way I could stand living with something like that all over my body forever. Besides, I recently stopped that exercise after that latest reaction last winter that sent me back to the hospital for one afternoon. If I were to wear clothes, even now, there's no doubt I would get sent back to the hospital. I might even die.”
“I don't want you to die,” said Laura. “Betsy, I will come with you and your parents when you move in at Sunny Palms. I might come and visit you, but the discomfort is really getting to me, and I don't think I'm as brave as you are.”
“You're my sister, Laura,” smiled Betsy, “and that is all that matters, and I honestly think you're quite brave.”
“You really think that?” asked Laura, in an intrigued, somewhat surprised voice. “Nobody has ever called me brave before.”
“I really do,” Betsy smiled. “You came with us to Sunny Palms all those years even when you knew your peers at school wouldn't understand; you tried to stand up for yourself, your family, your fellow campers, and me by trying to convince those schoolmates that Sunny Palms is a friendly, worthwhile place to be; and now, even though you're embarrassed by me, you're still determined to accept me as much as you can and stay my sister.”
“I'm glad you feel that way,” replied Laura.
“Laura,” Betsy explained. “I better let Susan know that I'm moving to Sunny Palms. I'll rent a cabin, and, at least for the first little while, my parents and possibly Catherine will help pay for me.”
“Good luck,” Laura beamed.
Betsy made one more smile at Laura, turned away from Laura's bedside and stepped out of Laura's room. Betsy entered her own room, turned on her computer, and composed an email to Susan detailing her plans of moving to Sunny Palms.
After Betsy had told Susan she was moving out, her parents arranged the plane ride. Two weeks later, when the helicopter arrived to take the Parkers to Meriton's airport, Betsy packed her books, her toiletries and all her belongings. Then, all four Parkers stepped into the cockpit and the helicopter departed.
12 A Bold Decision
When the Parkers arrived at Sunny Palms, Betsy's parents and Laura helped her unpack. They unloaded her bag and her toiletries into her newly rented cabin. They unpacked the cooler and loaded the food into the fridge.
Susan was pleased, as usual, to see Betsy, and excited that Betsy was now here, at Sunny Palms, to stay.
“So, you're living here now, Betsy,” Susan smiled. “It's so wonderful at this place. You'll love making it your permanent home, and we've been so happy to have you here every time you've come.”
Betsy didn't know what to say. “That's very kind of you,” she replied, “but to be honest, I'm nervous and I know I'm going to be lonely.”
“That's normal for people who move out,” Susan reassured her, “but things will work out, I promise.”
Once Betsy was settled, her parents waved to her and called out their farewells.
“See you soon!” they waved. “Happy moving out, and be sure to live a grand life.”
“Mom!” Betsy called, “Dad! You'll come and visit me often, won't you?”
“Of course we will,” Carl smiled. “We look forward to seeing you when that time comes.”
“Bye Laura!” Betsy called.
Laura was waving her hand more faintly and slowly, “Bye Betsy,” she said, in a smaller, more shy voice.
As the three bundled into the helicopter, Betsy gazed at her parents and her sister, especially her sister, for as long as she could. Then, the helicopter rose up, high above the trees, hills and planes, until it was high up in the heavens, and Betsy's family was out of sight.
After her parents and Laura had left, Betsy did not feel the carefree pleasure she usually felt when she came with her family. Betsy was aching to see Catherine. Even after all these years, the bond between Betsy and Catherine had not worn away, but had, instead, grown stronger.
Betsy caught sight of Catherine, sitting on the poolside, and Betsy was so eager to see her, that she ran up to her friend right away.
“Oh Catherine!” Betsy cried. “I'm so happy to see you!”
By now, Betsy was crying, something she had never done at Sunny Palms before, not out of negative feelings, anyway.
“Betsy, what's wrong?!” cried Catherine.
Betsy didn't touch the water, or sit down on her silicon pad beside Catherine, but she stood there, talking to her friend. “I've moved out,” Betsy sighed. “I'm on my own now. I don't know what my future is going to be, or what I'm going to do. I don't even know if I will even see my family again.”
“Betsy,” Catherine answered. “Everybody moves out at some point. Of course you'll see them again. What ever makes you think you won't?”
“I don't know. Because they're ashamed of me?”
“What? Betsy, that's nonsense! Who could ever be ashamed of you?”
“My sister Laura. You've met her before, but she hasn't come here for several years. She says I'm an embarrassment.”
Catherine sighed. “Betsy,” she soothed. “Just because someone says you are something, doesn't necessarily mean that is what you are. You are a bright, smart young woman with a loving heart.”
But, for once, not even Catherine's comfort could satisfy Betsy. “I want to be part of the real world,” Betsy explained. “I want to take part in human society. I want people to accept me for who I am. When I first came here, many years ago, I thought I had got that wish fulfilled, but now I know that was just my imagination. Of course you lot accept me because you're nudists. Of course my family accepts me because they're my family. I want to be accepted for real. I've got to have a taste of the real human world, even if it's just for one day. One day would be better than never at all.”
Catherine looked like she didn't know what to say. “Betsy,” asked Catherine. “Have you ever mentioned this issue, of wanting to be accepted by society as a whole, to your parents?”
“I have,” she explained. “You see, I always got A's in school; I even helped Laura with her homework. Laura goes to school becaus
e she's normal, but all Laura wants now is a normal sister; a sister she can never have.”
Betsy turned away from Catherine and gazed off into the distance. “And I had to miss my grad walk, and grad dinner and dance because of the way that I am, and what point is my A education going to be if I can never get a job, or do anything useful for society?”
Catherine continued to try to comfort Betsy. “Did your parents ever have any suggestions? Any at all?”
Betsy thought for a few minutes. Then, she said, “Well, my father recently told me that he said, when I was a baby and my condition was first discovered 'We will fight the law tooth and nail. Nobody is shutting our Betsy away.'”
“And did he ever do that?”
“Yeah, you could say that. My parents have told me all about those legal struggles. My mother has always had reservations; she thinks that getting me the privilege to go out in public will attract creeps who would look at me inappropriately. On the other hand, my father has always believed that other people, at least in my neighborhood, would feel too sympathetic towards me, and too happy for me, that I'm allowed a bit of freedom, to look at me in an inappropriate manner. My parents came to a compromise that they would lobby for me to have the right to be able to explore everywhere inside my own neighborhood, but that was it. My parents let the press know about my situation when I was three years old. Shortly after my story ran in the paper, my father sent a letter to the preliminary court in my local home town. The first letter never got a response. My father sent a second letter, and the local Magistrate Hugh Humphrey acknowledged that, as concerning as my situation was, it was not worth making a case about; that one person's rights, even due to an uncontrollable medical situation, could not overturn the rights and the norms of an entire society.”
“And was that the end?”
“Not exactly. After those efforts, my father got in touch with our local police department to ask if it really would be a grievous breach of law for me to have any time, anywhere in public, to be the way I am. The police informed my father that my condition was interesting in that it created a conflict within the Equal Protection Clause of the Bill of Rights. On one hand, everyone is equal under the law, making it unconstitutional for me to have the right to live unclothed, while anyone else would get arrested for doing so. On the other hand, the clause also guarantees no denying of life or liberty, making it unconstitutional for me to be sheltered and hidden from society because of my allergy, while everyone else is allowed to live, openly and freely, the way they are.
The Sheltered Life of Betsy Parker Page 9
