ther intensely.

Reverend Vincent's smile made me immediately embarras- sed at the way I had let my tem- per go unchained, as he replied, "We can't help it if our present society is founded upon a policy of dramatizing the differences between the genders. Perhaps it won't always be so. Perhaps people will get to know the dif- ference between gender and mere sex. Perhaps in some future date both men and women will wear some type of common garment, like say space suits, and start appreciating the similarities be- tween the genders instead of focusing on the differences be- tween the sexes. Until then we have to complete the artificiality that feminine clothing implies.

"Oh, certainly," Reverend Vincent replied, "but if he seeks membership he has to come down forward during the services and declare his belief in the Fem- ina principles through the act or, shall I say, baptismal of wearing female clothing.”

"Do you baptize?"

"No, not as such," Rever- end Vincent said, "our ceremony takes the form of an initiation. You're confused by thinking of the Femina philosophy in terms of theological expression is not a religion in the strict sense of the word. Our church is more a temple, a shrine.' "But you call it a church,”

I challenged.

ours

"Yes, because that's the way charters are set up, and in many respects we do function as a church. Reverend Davis has probably told you of our nursing home for the aged, our children's home, our work with charities and so forth?"

John had explained all this, and as we moved from the nurs- ery to other parts of the old building it occured to me that during the whole long discussion between Reverend Vincent and myself, John had remained strangely silent.

It wasn't until we had both thanked Reverend Vincent for showing us the church and after he had invited me to attend the next services that I questioned John as we walked back outside into the bright sunshine that

had broken through the smog.

"I wanted you to see it for yourself," John said, "before I told you that I've actually at- tended a couple of his services."

"Oh I guessed as much," I said, "I know you and that wild- ly curious mind of yours, John." We got into the car and a thought struck me. “John, - you didn't -

"Yes I did," John answered, anticipating my question, “Mary helped me and went with me. It was as profound an experience as I have ever had for both of

us.

"Mary? Oh, John, be ser- ious now," I protested.

"I'm in dead earnest, Rich- ard. I have been twice. They have

a special room for those who want to dress at the church ra- ther than at home."

We drove for several miles without speaking and I kept go- ing over it in my mind. Of course John was like this. He had once attended a Nudist meeting - I could never forget it, we had just finished our last semester at Southwest. In a way, the Femina philosophy was a sort of reverse twist of Nudism, yes, a declara- tion of belief dramatized by wearing rather than not wear- ing clothing. In a way if was fun-

ny.

The thought made me say, "You in high heels?"

John wasn't surprised at the way I blurted it out. "I wore a pair of Mary's low-heeled shoes,' he replied calmly, "but this is the thing, Richard, you really can't experience just what it is these people are driving at until you yourself actually join them on their own level."

"And a wig?"

"I borrowed one, yes." "Oh, John, you're fifty years old. We're both, well, we're men of responsibility, our con- gregations

"I refuse to cut myself off from a human philosophy this profound," John replied crisply, "you'll remember -

"The Nudist camp," I ans- wered, "yes, I remember.'

"Why don't you go tomor- row, it's Saturday you know. You and Beth?" John asked. "You mean dressed as a wo- 34

man?"

"If you want

"Oh, John,' I snapped, "even if I wanted to do such a ridiculous thing Beth would never allow it."

"You're forgetting that Mary has probably already told Beth all about this," John said, "you may just find her as per- suasive as I am. I know she'll be curious."

We again lapsed into silence as John threaded the car through the onrush of cars speeding past us near the turn-off taking us to the Davis' home. John was pro- bably right - Beth would have gotten it from Mary and would be beyond curosity about the Femina thing. I looked over at John who was still intent on his driving; I wanted to ask him why he thought I had been so skepti- cal of Reverend Vincent and the whole thing; but I didn't. We would just get into another dis- cussion of Jung and his theory of the anima in every man; or some such theoretical argument; and end up back where our dis- cussions about Vincent's philo- sophy always started.

When we pulled into the driveway of the very pleasant split-foyer home John and Mary had built, the girls were seated comfortably in the shade of a row of giant Poplars that framed the Davis house. They had been shopping earlier when John and I decided to visit the Femina Church, but as he and I walked toward them I knew from the way they looked at us that they were anxious for the details of the excursion.

"John took me out to Dis- ney-land," I said, easing myself into one of the lawn chairs. Beth's eyes widened and her smile tightened into disbelief as she said, "You - you didn't visit the church?"

I looked over at John who was now smiling at the way I had forced Beth to reveal her enthus- iasm. Both girls were now some- what embarrassed as though they had been caught in some sort of conspiracy or plan.

The sun streaking through the trees caught Beth's hair just right and as I placed my hand on her's I was startled at the resem-