Shauna looks at me…extremely pale…and stutters, “Sh…sh…she…what? Th…th…that…is impossible…! She only does that when…” If possible, she pales even more—but then turns silent. I process that. I don’t know what it means, but I sense that I have an advantage, so I press it. I look at Shauna and say, “The Mother Superior advised me to go take a hot bubble bath and soak. I think you and I need to talk; I will leave it up to you whether you want Emily to join us in my bathroom, or not…”

Twenty minutes later, my tub is running full of steaming hot water—the bubbles are already mounding over the top. I stand in front of the steamy mirror and look at the tattoo of a colorful bird on my butt—stretching up to my lower back and down my thigh—and wonder just what the Mother Superior meant by it being ‘special ink’… I can’t help but trust her after she somehow healed my—physical—wounds. All of my piercings are completely healed, as are my tattoos… What do I do with this? I will admit, though, the artwork is exquisite—if it were on someone else…

I slowly climb into the steaming water and mounds of bubbles. My fake breasts float strangely in the water under the bubbles. Shauna meekly comes in and sits on the lowered toilet lid, next to the tub. Emily leans against the door frame. I lay there and soak in the heat. Who knew? This REALLY IS AWESOME! Even if it does smell like flowers… I lazily look over at Shauna and ask, “So, I understand that you hate the men from my hometown. How does that exactly play into what you put me through yesterday? And why exactly would you? What do you even know about my home?” I swish my hands through the hot, steamy water and marvel at my long fingernails—waiting for Shauna to respond…

Shauna is quiet for several minutes. Emily and I both just look at her and wait. Finally, Shauna opens up…slowly at first, “Well, it became personal to my family about sixteen years ago, when my Aunt was brainwashed and kidnapped by one of the evil men from your town. My grandmother mourns her daughter. My mother mourns her sister….and I mourn my cousin. It is all because of people like your father…and, ultimately, like…you… Men, like your father and others in your town, erode what women are about. Women, like those in your town, are prisoners that are only there to please the men… Your choices of women for class only support that!”

I almost hyperventilate in the hot water…then, finally, calm down. I look at Emily, who seems to be sending me moral support, and then at Shauna. I take a deep breath and say, “You are probably the biggest bigot I have ever met. You know NOTHING about my Dad. You know NOTHING about my town… How DARE YOU?” I almost jump out of the tub to strangle Shauna. Emily hurries over and holds me down—thanks to the slippery tub… Shauna is, if anything, even paler… She takes a deep breath and says in a small voice, “My Aunt was seduced by a…man…from…there…and got pregnant. She was then brainwashed into leaving home and going…there…and forced to stay. None of us have heard from her…or her child…since. Can you blame me…or my family…for hating that town or its men? The authorities have sided with the town, saying that my Aunt went voluntarily and local law is in the town’s favor. Somehow, this...evil…guy…convinced my Aunt to abandon her family and submit to the town’s medieval view of women as God’s given gift to men… Your men value women that submit to them; cater to them; do everything they want…including being a baby-factory for them. Can you blame me for hating…you… and your values…?”

I settle back into my hot water and don’t say a word… Finally, boiling mad, I splutter, “So, that is your justification for turning me into the bimbo…this caricature…?” I wait to see what she says… Emily, takes a sponge and starts washing down my back…soothing my raw nerves… Finally, Shauna responds in a haughty voice, “Look…you led us to every decision that we went with. Obviously, your…upbringing…has colored your view of women. I mean look at who you think is important.” I take a deep breath and let the flowery smell of the bubbles sink in before I counter, “No, I guess I don’t understand. Please clue this idiot in…”

Shauna is quiet a couple of minutes. She is obviously disturbed. Finally, she continues, “Look, you are obviously enamored by sexy women…look at your picks. I…we…were only trying to play to your wishes.” I don’t give in… I swish through the water with my hands and play with a mound of bubbles, focusing on my long nails. After a bit, I respond, “So, you are saying that Scarlet, Christina, and Emma are bimbos?” I leave it at that…and she uncomfortably responds, “No; YOU do.” I smile…not that I am amused, but because I have won, and ask sweetly, “What would make you say that?” She coughs and says, “Well, look at your responses to our questions about what you liked…they were all about boobs and figures and beauty. It was obvious what you were about…”

I am quiet for a while. Did I really come across that way? No—it HAD to be how she…they…WANTED to perceive me… I reach down and pull the stopper out the stopper--the water is getting cold. As it drains, I say, “Not that YOU care, but, Scarlet is important to me because she plays a really cool super hero that is poised and calm and gets the job done. She plays a woman that is vital in saving a zoo…and many more such roles. I like Christina because she has a voice that is unrivaled and I can appreciate it from an artistic point of view. She played a role where she was tenacious and won her star role because she stuck to guns. I just love the role that Emma played—I mean she was AWESOME as Hermione. Who could not love that role? Are they beautiful women? Yes. Does that matter? Well, of course any guy will appreciate that—but, I mean…THAT is not ONLY what I appreciate about them… YOUR biased questions only made it SEEM like that is what is important to me because of what you CHOSE to read from my answers…”

After that, Emily shoos Shauna out of the room and helps me get dried off. I put on the same clothes that I had on before—including the shoes. I laugh as I try to walk. Emily laughs with me and gives me a kiss—again, full tongue, and says, “That is for encouragement. You ARE going to be an AWESOME girl, and something as mundane as a few inches of heel is not going to stop you. You gave Shauna a lot to think about—but, don’t let it go to your head…you really are not completely innocent, you know… Whether your town is a factor, or not, you DO have some outdated perceptions about girls…” I try and press her on the subject, but she won’t say anymore before the full ‘Joy-Squad’ arrives and we start getting ready to go to the same small mall that I had my ‘experiences’ at the day before…

I almost balk before we leave, but remember my promise to my Mom to do my best. I am not worried, though. Dad will be home tomorrow… I am sure that I will be home very soon after that…and the Mother Superior will have to make good on her promise to remove all of this girly stuff from my body… I look at all the healed piercings in my ears and my nose and mentally picture the rest… I look so ridiculous. If I didn’t love Mom so much…

Less than an hour later, we are at the mall and I am trying on outfit after outfit in one of the higher-end clothing stores. Shauna has backed off a little from turning me into a complete bimbo, but I get the impression that she is still pushing to have me as close to that edge as she can get me. Everything that she picks out is designed to show of ‘cleavage’ or my midriff, displaying my belly button jewel and tattoos. None of the shoes she picks out are less than a three-inch heel. When I protest that she is just trying to embarrass me, she just points at her own and asks if I had ever seen her in anything less? To be honest, I hadn’t—but, I had never really paid that much attention, either… Of course, I have to also get several purses that go with the shoes. When it comes time to pay for all of the stuff, I wonder how that is supposed to work. Shauna pays for it all without blinking—it seems, when she told her Mom about the ‘project’, including where I am from, she was given pretty much a blank check to get the extra credit for class; I guess her parents are not poor. Not that any of the kids at St. Paul’s are that are not there on a scholarship; tuition is outrageous…

After we leave the clothing store, we go to the local earring store and the girls pick out several pairs of glittery, dangly things. They also get a bunch of big hoopy things, you know the ones that look more like bracelets than earrings. Speaking of bracelets, they get a bunch of those…and glittery rings, too. There are other things that I have no idea about, maybe hair things? While it is all costume stuff, the bill is still more than I can believe.

Finally, they take me to a makeup store and pick out all of the ‘essentials’ for me. Gwen promises to show me how to use it all and Georgette chimes in that she will give me lessons on how to do my hair properly… All I can think of is that this is all a waste of time and money, since Dad is going to get me out of here. I just have to hold out until tomorrow…

After we back to my room, Gwen quickly does my face up and Georgette styles my hair so that I can ‘model’ my new outfits. Emily does assure me that this is a normal rite for girls and something ‘we’ love to do… I am in my third outfit, a tight little forest green dress that shows off ample cleavage, when there is a knock on my door. Well, that is new—someone is actually knocking? I look around; the whole ‘squad’ is here… Emily opens the door and a girl that I have seen around campus before but don’t really know whispers something to her. Emily nods and closes the door after the girls disappears down the hall. She looks at me and says, “I guess we are going to have to postpone the rest of the show until later. The Mother Superior wants to see you again.” I give her a questioning look and she shrugs back, indicating that she has no idea. This has to be it! Dad must have gotten home early and is going to get me out of here!

Ten minutes later, I am in her office for the second time today. She looks more energetic than when I last left her, but…somehow…sad… She gives me an encouraging smile and says, “You look very pretty in that outfit, Joy. Maybe the dress is a little low-cut, but it is very pretty.” I smile wanly back—the last thing I want to hear is how ‘pretty’ I look… She takes my hands and tells me to sit down on her couch. She sits down right next to me and continues to hold my hands tightly. She looks at me and says, “I need you to stay strong. Your mother called a few minutes ago. She had to hang up, but will call back as soon as she can. I am afraid I am the bearer of bad news on her behalf. It seems your father’s plane has gone missing somewhere in the wilderness of British Columbia in Canada. Everyone is missing…”