And she touched it.

“That wasn’t so much,” she remarked, then giggled. “It’s all sticking out now.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Why’s it doing that? Just ’cause I touched it?”

“You didn’t do it right,” he said defensively. “You’re s’posed to kiss it.”

“How would you know?”

“I saw it in one of Dad’s books. You kiss it and it makes people happy.”

She obliged. Afterward, he did the same to her. It was weird and gooshy.

Later that day, when the inspection was done, their grandmother kept Ernie after she let Ginny get dressed and go up to her room.

“I saw what you did,” Nana said. “You nasty little boys with your nasty little things, you’re all alike. Well, I won’t have it. You understand me? I won’t have it.”

“Y-Y-Yes, Nana,” he managed to squeeze out.

The cat curled around his grandmother’s ankles, staring at him with large accusing eyes.

“There will be no nastiness on my property, hear me? Your father may have gone in for that sort of thing, but I most certainly will not. The Good Lord doesn’t like it. And neither do I.”

“Okay, Nana.”

“Nasty. Nasty, ugly boys. Here. Put this on.” She held out a sky-blue pinafore, one of Ginny’s.

“But-that’s a dress-”

“Put it on!” she commanded. He obeyed. She did up the buttons in the back, tied the bow, and spun him around a few times, admiring him. “There, that’s better. Not so nasty now, are we?”

“But Nana-”

“Since you’re so interested in girls, we’ll let you be one from now on.”

“Nana-”

“Go to bed now. And leave the dress on. You are not to remove it until I give you permission. Understand?”

He did as he was told, but the dress was scratchy and uncomfortable and he had a hard time sleeping. She made him wear it forever, days, weeks, including the night one of Nana’s lady friends from town came over. Nana thought the children didn’t know because the lady came after bedtime, as she had come many times before. But the dress bothered Ernie so much he couldn’t sleep, and when he heard screaming, it scared him. Scared him so much he ran into Nana’s bedroom.

“What the hell is this?” the lady said, sitting up in the bed.

Nana leaped out of her bed, wrapping a sheet around herself. “Nasty little boy! Nasty little boy!”

“Nana, I was scared-”

“Did you think you might see something? Is that what you were hoping for? That you might see something nasty?”

“No-I-I-”

“I tried to help you. I tried to make you not be such a dirty little boy. But I can see this dress wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.” Enraged, she ripped it off him, her nails like claws, then ran to a sewing kit resting on her dresser.

“Nana, please-”

“My last sewing needle,” she said, holding the silver shaft between thumb and finger. “Shame to have to use it like this. But what’s got to be done’s got to be done.”

She lowered the needle and jabbed it into his little penis.

Ernie screamed. He tried to squirm away, but the old woman’s hand held him firmly in place. Only after an eternity had passed did she yank the needle out, leaving a trickle of clear fluid in its wake.

Ernie clutched himself. He fell to the floor, curled up, hoping if he squeezed hard enough it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“I don’t want you playing with Ginny. Not in the forest. Not anywhere.”

His eyes widened with horror. This was even worse, the most horrible punishment possible. “B-B-B-But-”

“You heard me, boy.” She held the dripping needle between her fingers. “Do I need to tell you what will happen if you disobey me?”

“N-N-N-No, ma’am.”

She would not help him or allow the lady in her bed to help him. Ernie had to crawl to his bedroom, holding himself, biting back the pain. He lay on his bed for hours, not sleeping, empty, devastated, in every kind of agony. A swelling began and he didn’t know what to do about it. He started to cry, and once he started, he found he could not stop. His whole body shook with the force of his tears. He did not cry so much for the aching, although that was great. He cried for Ginny. Because she was his life. And now his grandmother had taken his life away.

The next few weeks were torturous. The swelling eventually subsided, but in its wake the shaft of his penis turned an odd mottled color and bent to the left as if it were permanently broken. He was not allowed to play with Ginny or even to talk to her. He sat at the opposite end of the breakfast table and if he so much as glanced her way his grandmother made a motion toward her sewing kit. He learned to stare at his cereal bowl. At night he would lie awake in his bed, sleepless, thinking of nothing but her.

“Ernie?”

He sat bolt upright, on that memorable night so long into their forced separation.

It was her.

“Come outside.”

It was dark as a cave in his room. What time was it, midnight? Later?

“Hurry!” He heard her tiny footsteps scampering down the stairs.

He followed, feeling his still broken member as he climbed out of bed, knowing all too well what he risked. But Ginny was calling, and he could not resist following her.

The floorboards creaked as he entered the hallway. He could hear his grandmother snoring; she was sound asleep. But he also knew how quickly she could rouse herself, given sufficient motivation.

Down the stairs and out the door. He found Ginny by the clearing at the edge of the forest, waiting for him.

“I’m not sure we should be in the forest at night,” he said, even though he desperately wanted to go. “It could be dangerous. The ticks and boars and stuff. We might not see them.”

“We’re not going to the forest,” she said, her eyes sparkling like a gift. “We’re going through it. To the beach.”

The beach! He felt a clutching at his heart. Their grandmother had expressly forbidden it. “Nana won’t like this. If she finds out-”

“Nana won’t find out.” She took his hand. “If she does, we’ll run away together.”

She led the way through the edge of the forest on a worn path that seemed safe even when they were traveling with only the moon for a flashlight. Perhaps fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the beach.

Ernie was stunned. He had seen it from the road, of course, but never like this, never this close. Even from the edge of the forest, he could feel the spray on his cheeks. He could hear the thunderous roar. It was so loud-how could they not hear it back at the house? The waves crashed against the surf with a shuddering violence. The ocean seemed to go on forever and forever, receding into the horizon.

“Better build a fort fast,” Ginny said, racing barefoot across the sand. “You’re about to be under attack.”

They played together like they had never played before. In retrospect, they were probably not there more than an hour or two, but it seemed a glorious eternity, a Golden Age. They built forts and lobbed sandballs at one another. They fashioned castles and dug tunnels between them. They played chase and ran like the sea breeze, squeezing the sand between their toes. Ernie caught her and they both tripped; he fell down on top of her.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” she asked as he lay against her, sand skimming her hair.

“Of course you are.”

“I think my nose is too big.”

“Is not. You’re pretty.”

“Then how come you never kiss me?”

“I-I didn’t know if-if I-”

“It’s okay.”

If she said it was okay, then so it must be. He pressed his lips against hers, hard, like he’d seen his father do it to that woman in the drugstore. It didn’t feel very warm, but it made him go all tingly and stiff just the same.

“That wasn’t very good, was it?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, laughing. She pushed him away and ran free. “You’ll get better.”

And she was right. They came out to the beach every night that week, running and playing, hugging and kissing, happier than they had ever been before, in their kingdom by the sea.