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I felt as if I were lowering myself into a warm, erotic bath of pleasure. His mouth followed the downward movement of my skirt and panties. My arms and hands were above me. It was as if I was holding onto a bar to keep myself from going too deeply and I was losing the grip on the bar, sliding, sliding . . .

"Alice," he said again. "You're beautiful."

All my grandmother's admonitions about sexual promiscuity rang in my head like distant church bells sounded to send out alarms and warnings, but I wasn't heeding them even though just below the cacophony of bongs and cries, I could hear him undoing his own pants, preparing . . .

And then, like some Lone Ranger, some great comic hero arriving at the last possible moment to save the day, we heard my grandfather call up to us.

An icy sheet of reality froze us both. The sensual fingers that had so gripped me inside and out released me. Craig sat up quickly and straightened himself. I rushed to do the same.

"Alice? Are you upstairs?"

"Yes, Grandpa," I called back as I fixed my bra and blouse. Craig leaped off the sofa and brushed back his hair. When we heard my grandfather's footsteps on the attic stairway, Craig went to one of my paintings and stared at it as if he had come here to consider making a purchase.

I sat back on the sofa and waited. My grandfather stepped in and looked about the attic.

"Oh. I wondered whose car that was in the driveway." "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Stein. Did I block you?"

"No problem," my grandfather said. He looked at me, his eyes full of questions.

"Craig wanted to see where I worked and some of my paintings."

"They're really good," Craig followed quickly.

Anyone, even a complete idiot, I thought, could see how nervous we were. My grandfather smiled softly and nodded.

"Yeah. She's good. Well, I'm just going to get out of my lawyer's uniform," my grandfather said. "You want to stay for dinner, Craig?"

"Oh, no, thanks. I've got to get home. My parents were in the city and came back this morning after I had already left for school, so I had better get my rear end moving," Craig replied.

"Sure," my grandfather said, nodded at me and left. Craig and I looked at each other. Then he walked over as I stood up.

"This is a magical place," he said. Then he kissed me softly and walked to the door. "I'll call you later. And I'll pick you up for school tomorrow." He nodded toward the window. "Finish that," he said and left.

My heart was pounding so hard and fast that I felt faint for a moment. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and started out of the attic, too. When I reached the door, I thought I heard the sound of two girls giggling. I turned and looked back at the sofa and envisioned my aunt and my mother, sitting there and conjuring the scene I had just played.

"She's just like me, Zipporah," I could hear her say. "See? She's just like me after all."

I fled down the stairs, exactly how someone running from herself might, regretting both what I had done and what I had not, for a part of me was happy I was saved, and a part of me was not.

Am I really so much different from any other girl my age then? I wondered.

Or am I simply traveling a longer; more convoluted route to the same answers, driven by the same questions.

Who am I?

What do I want?

Where am I going?

When will I know if I'm home?

7 A Date to the Prom

. I warmed the dinner for my grandfather and myself and set the table. He came out of his den when I called for him. I was holding my breath, waiting for his comments about finding Craig and me in the attic. For a while, I thought he wasn't going to say anything about it. He talked-about some case he was on and about some ideas he had for fixing the front of the house, but then he put his fork down and clasped his hands and looked at me with those intense eyes he could switch on whenever he was ready to say or do something very serious and important.

"I'm glad you've a friend, Alice. Whether you put boy in front of friend now or soon is no problem either. And I won't give you any of the lectures your grandmother is fond of giving. All the advice I'll give you is centered on two words."

"What two words?" I asked when he paused too long for my patience.