I’m going to blame these stories on my grandmother who loved to play pranks and have fun. But she had no part in this escapade (though I’d bet if she had been there she would surely have joined in the adventure). Even my buttoned up mother perked up. (My mother’s idea of sex education was when she gave me a book about hamsters mating when I was ten years old. Imagine my confusion.)
It began one day in 197-something in Coatesville, Pennsylvania when our Greek neighbor, who brought us stuffed grape leaves, invited us to come swim in her pool sometime. After reflecting, she added: we will go skinny dipping. I looked at my mother from the corner of my eye. No cues there. My sister was looking in the other direction.
Well, the Greek neighbor assumed compliance, and proceeded to set up a time and date for us to go skinny dipping in her pool. Then, she told my father that he and her husband would not be attending. We were to wear a swimming suit down to her house and bring a towel. It was a quiet, moonless night. Mom was having second thoughts, but we moved her along – it was downhill.
On the night of new moon, the three of us walked to the neighbor’s house. She took us around to the back yard where we put our towels where on the chairs by the pool. The Greek woman yelled for her husband, who was elderly and nearly deaf. He came out, and she told him that once we were all in the pool, he was to turn out the lights and stay indoors.
We eased ourselves into the pool, and Mr. Greek disappeared and turned off all the pool lights. The stars were our only light. Mrs. Greek invited us to get in the water and take off our swimming gear.
I didn’t know what to expect, but I was not ready for the freedom I found without the suit. We moved unfettered and unencumbered through the water.The four of us swam through the smooth water and splashed until we tired. The most challenging part of the escapade, though, was putting our swimming suits back on under the water to go home.