so delightful with the straw in his mussed-up, blonde hair, he thought, drowsing in the warm bath water. Only when he had lingered there for over fifteen minutes, feeling the perfumed water cleansing every pore of his body, did he realize that he was daydreaming again about the strange, newly-created world of the Pujols Academy. He had begun to jump to his feet, visions of girls surrounding and comforting him, encouraging him to be just like them, when a livid Consuela stormed into the bathroom.

She was not at all gentle, like in his dream, as she bade him lie down again while she washed and set his hair. "I know you'll wear a wig," she snapped as he nervously asked why she was setting his hair in small rollers. "But accidents happen, darling Irena. And if such does happen, you'll still look pretty and girlish, nevertheless."

can

Consuela did not leave 'Irena' alone for one second not even while 'she' disguised 'her' masculinity. If anything, she tightened Irena's waist-cinch and bra much more than she had previously, even tightening the garter belt that held up the light, skin-colored stockings she in- sisted that the President must

wear.

She was very annoyed with 'Irena' and the dark shadows under her eyes. "You should have asked for a sleeping pill," she scolded when 'Irena' tried to explain that she'd had a bad dream. "This is far too much makeup for this time of day. You're going to have to take better care of yourself, my dear, if you want to keep your young-girl good looks, like

Irena.

""

The addition of the wig and a dark, full-skirted dress, veiled over the shoulders, chest and upper arms changed 'him' most definitely to 'her' as even one, quick, sidelong glance to 'her' mirror showed Irena. It was almost a relief to look 'real'

again. Her black, open-toed high heels were new, like every- thing 'she' possessed.

"Hardly breakfast wear," mused Consuela, making the girl spin before her, before giving her the dark, button earrings which she attached right away to her ears. "But Raul Margoles is a man you should impress, if you want the Party behind you through this change Salluca thinks you can pull off."

>

Raul Margoles, Secretary- General to the Party of the Revolution, was indeed very impressed by Irena Varga, as he always was. Maybe it was the dream living on, but ‘Irena' was 'different,' in Salluca's words to Consuela, more like her real self as a woman. Mar- goles hung on every word the vivacious President uttered to him, promising her that the Party faithful would support 'her' in whatever direction she wished the Revolution to move, even to extending membership in the Party to any former Democrat who would just take the Oath of Allegiance to Irena. He left with the promise that Irena would save at least one dance for him at the reception that night.

"The old fool," said Fran- cisco Salluca, as the smiling, beautiful, feminine figure, step- ped back lithely from the door to which she had accompanied Margoles as he left the small, private dining room at the

Lorenzo.

Irena's bright smile dis- appeared and she swayed just a little on 'her' high heels as she came back hastily to sit in the armchair where she had before. Salluca frowned and moved along the sofa to be beside her.' He stared at 'her' intently as 'she' adjusted her rustling dress beneath and around her smooth legs. There were high spots of color on 'her' cheeks blonde-streaked hair over her shoulder, exposing her small

as

-21-

earrings.

"He was sent by the dep- uties to express their concerns about your new policy," said Salluca, reaching over to pick up her hand, frowning at the long, darkly colored nails that seemed so genuine and so fem- inine. "Even swearing oaths to you won't make Democrats into Revolutionaries, and we all know that. But if we take them into the Party, either they'll democratize us or we'll revolu- tionize them. Either way, the country should win.

"Don't ever forget, Irena, that the real difference between the Democrats and us is nothing but social class. It's the mer- chants, the farmers, the aca- demics, the middle class, whose support we had to overthrow Reyes, that this move wins back for us."

""

The girl shifted in her soft, silky dress as she tried to slip her hand from his. Salluca's smile was dark and sardonic as he held the fem- inized hand more tightly while 'she' kept her heavily madeup eyes diverted from him.

in

"Francisco," cut Consuela Romo's iciest tones. "There is a Cabinet session awaiting you and your girl- friend." The anger in her face was evident to both President and Vice President, but at whom the anger was directed was hard to tell.

Irena-Esteban

Blushing, leapt to 'her' high-heeled feet, her skirts swaying softly about her stockinged legs, a sudden, pleasant sensation that only added more to the confusion on her face. She didn't dare to look at Consuela.

"She needs to fix her makeup," said Consuela, re- lenting from her anger when she saw how upset 'Irena' was. She reached out to help pry his fingers from the grasp he still had on 'her' hand. The

smile she pushed

on Salluca's face left no doubt that he was enjoying the discomfigure he was giving