THE THIRTEENTH YEAR by The Landsman The thirteenth year is special in the life of a Jewish boy. There are bar mitzvahs every week during the year and concommitant Saturday night dances as each boy in turn becomes a man. What better opportunity for a muscular teenage girl to demonstrate the facts of life. This was 1959 and at one such party, at a table in a room away from the main dance floor, Judy, 13, with the best figure in our class, put down the arm of each female challenger at a table in a small room away from the dance floor. I had known about Judy's biceps for about a year now and watched her every day in school. I regarded her muscles as my secret companions. Back then, in 1959, she mostly covered her arms up, but once and awhile she'd come to school wearing a short-sleeve shirt. It was the first thing I checked out when I arrived at school each day. When she wore a long sleeve shirt I was disappointed but life was still grand as I could turn my attention to watching Diane's legs. She was a cheerleader with the narrowest ankles and the most bulging calves you could ever desire. When she tiptoed to reach for a book at the top of her locker, I was usually a few yards behind enjoying everything. I knew her class schedule by heart. Perhaps a note about her another time. Back to my story... On this Saturday night question, my heart sank however as Judy easily down the arm of one female challenger after another. Some of the other girls had nice swells to their upper arms, but Judy's arm was unparalled in muscularity. My despair on that night, as you can imagine, was that her bulges of interest were hidden beneath the long chiffon sleeve on her ball gown. Still I was transfixed. I couldn't leave. Hoping at some point the stars might shine on me yielding a view of whatI desired. Just then the stakes we raised when Eddie stumled upon the room - until than it was just the several girls and I - and seeing what was happening bragged that he could put Judy down in a second. "Okay," she smiled innocently," let's try". Then to my pure glee, the happiest moment of my young life, Judy then unsnapped the cuff of her sleeve to get a better range of movement. Or maybe she just did it to give Eddie a glimpse of what he was up against. I'm certain he had no idea. Now, I wish I could say that Eddie was captain of the football team or a champion shotputter or something evidencing great strength, but it wouldn't be true. Eddie was an average guy. Taller than Judy by about three inches and heavier by about thirty pounds. I imagine Judy was about 5'5" back then and weighed 115 pounds. I could be wrong on the numbers but the proportions are on the mark. Anyway. Judy slowly rolled back her sleeve revealing her mighty weapon. I couldn't believe my good fortune. I was hard as aa rock, as Judy placed her elbow on the table and offered Eddie her hand. He accepted. "Ready", she said. "Ready." She counted: One two three. Their eyes met. GO! Their arms locked in a standoff. But my eyes were riveted on one thing. My brain screamed, LOOK AT THAT MUSCLE, as her upper armed swelled and pointed to the ceiling. Eddie went for the pin! NOTHING. She held firm. Fixed him with a look and then: BAM! Slammed Eddie's hand into the table. He was stunned. He couldn't do anything but look at her. Slient. She smiled: "Sorry. Maybe next time." He just shook his head in amazement. "Want to go again?" he asked. "I don't know Eddie, what's the point." she reasoned logicaly, without a hint of cruelty. He got up rubbing his sore bicep and disappeared into the crowd. Judy rolled her sleeve back down and buttoned the sleeves. "Wow, Judy, you were great." Diane, of the great calves, said. "I never thought a girl could be strong enought to beat a boy." "I was pretty confident," Judy stated matter of factly," I armwrestle with my brother a lot, and I beat him most of the time." Her brother was a year older. "Lemme see" Diane persisted. Tweaking Judy's upper arm beneath the now re- clasped chiffon sleeve. "Oh I don't know. I just got the sleeve back." Judy declined. "Come on," Diane insisted. At this point, as you might imagine, I was out of my head. I'm normally shy. But I couldn't control myself. I reasoned that if I was ever going to feel Judy's bicep it was now or never. "Yeah" I interjected, following Diane's lead and placing my thumb under Judy's tricep and four fingers over the top of her hidden sinew, imploring her to bring it to life. "Mark!" Judy reproached me. "What are you doing?" Her eyes bore through me, administering the worst punishment I have ever felt. I was out of line! What a loathsome, fool I was. And then she smiled. "I've got to undo my cuff first." And then she did. She began peeling back her sleeve. Again her forearms appeared, white skin. Very delicate with a slight hint of light down. Then the down stopped has the forearm turned to elbow. Then a hitch. The sleeve wouldn't go back. She fumbled with it. She lost her grip. It fell back to her wrist as she shook her head in frustration. The next moment seemed like forever. But then my drama began anew. This time as she peeled back the resistant sleeve. She fumbled it again. But this time gradually pulled it over her bicep. Judy's bicep! which itself seemed quivering, demanding to be revealed, demonstrated to its adoring audience. And as she got ready to flex, to put the total lie to male superiority, Judy made a simple remark that I have never forgotten. Finally, as the sleeve yielded and as she raised her clenched fist into the air, pulling the last wisp of chiffon back from her shimmering muscle, she smiled almost sheepishly and quipped: "That's what I hate about these dresses". Then she brought the fingers of her raised hand around and down to the center up her palm and laid her delicate thumb across them into a fist; and, then looking directly into my eys, she slowly pressed her fingertips into the center of her palm, slowly increasing the power that would bulge ther muscle. It grew. And she looked directly at it swelled, popping out of her upper arm like a mountain reaching for the sky - a clear white peak at the top. And then, just like that it was gone. Fallen back to earth. And she looked up at me smiling at the disappointment on my face. Playful. "I bet you want to see that again." she said coyly. And with out waiting for an answer, this time SHE JAMMED IT!!! And there it was again. Judy's HUGE MUSCLE! Pulsing up. Bulging. And Judy looking at it. Beaming with pride. Flicking her wrist and changing the shape. Now elongated. Flick. NOW PEAKED! ANd again. And again. And then she looked at me: "That's all for now," she said abruptly. ANd it was gone. Her sleeve pushed back down quickly." "I don't want the parents to see us." And with that she stood and left the table. I was stunned. Exhausted. My brain was buzzing. I seem to have heard one of the other girls exclaim: Wow did you see that? But I was a million miles away. Some of the other girls resumed their armwrestling. Eddie even slinked back to the table to redeem himself on some weaker prey. But my only interest had departed. How I'd managed not to soil my pants I'll never know. Maybe I was too young. But I got up the nerve to follow Judy into the other room and went up to where she was standing by herself. "That was pretty good." I said. "Just pretty good?" she smiled. "You want to dance?" I asked. "Sure". *** I took Judy to the class dance later that year. I felt her muscle on a few more occasions during junior high and high school. It became more difficult to find the right mood and opportunity as she began dating older guys and we remained "just friends." But I watched her arms every day until we graduated. A few years back at our twenty fifth class reunion she flexed again for me, for old times sake. The muscle was still evident, but she had become inactive and put on weight. Nonetheless, it was sufficient to remind me of her reign as the thirteen year old arm wrestling champ. In the year that this boy became a man.