she first got breasts. She liked to kiss; she
loved
to kiss, but she told Rosie it wasn’t enough for boys. Boys liked the other things too. Her pelvis tightened again, like it was holding its breath, and she turned toward the stage to watch the music video. Now there was footage of seals, popping their heads out of the surf as if to the beat, cheerful and sad all at once. At first she thought they were the seals who lived in the bay, the ones you saw from the ferry or who sunned themselves on the piers of San Francisco or at the beach on the Hospital Cove side of Angel Island. In the video there was an old one sitting by himself on a rock above the water, and maybe it was his wet doggy eyes or the tatters in his coat, but he made Rosie think of Luther.
And she saw Luther watching her, there at the dance, from the screen, hidden inside the seal.
Simone loved dolphins, but Rosie loved seals. She thought dolphins were smug and fishy, with their skimpy little eyes. It was hard to imagine truly snuggling with dolphins, but seals seemed made to snuggle, they were boneless and floppy like sofas. Around her more and more kids were dancing, but she was locked into the seals on the screen. The sweet dog eyes of the old one were looking right into the camera, right into her. The music was too loud. One of the seals came splashing out of the surf onto the sand, this guy who had been so speedy and gracefulin the water but was so clumsy on land. There was something in its lumpy wigglishness that made her think of herself—not of her athletic outsides but of her secret, private self. She looked around for Simone but could not find her. One of these days Simone is going to go too far, she said to herself—it was a line from one of her favorite novels, uttered by the angry mother of a teenage girl as she raised a cup of poisoned coffee to her lips …
On screen the most amazing thing was happening: in the shadows of the beach, one of the seals was pulling off its seal suit, pulling the wet brown rubbery skin down past its head, to reveal a sad and beautiful woman within, and the tight suit slipped down over and past her shoulders, the way you’d slip out of an off-the-shoulder evening dress. Oh, Mom, she thought, missing her mother again, I wish you could have seen it; it was exactly what it feels like to be me. Where you mostly think you’re one shape but deep inside you know you’re many. So awkward here at the dance, but so fast on the court, like the woman who had been inside the sealskin—one skin, another skin, same stuff. She pictured Luther watching her swim, Luther with his wet brown eyes.
“Hey!” said Hallie. “Earth calling Rosie.” Rosie looked away from the screen, from the seals. She smiled at Hallie and the other girls. “Do you see Simone?” she asked, and Hallie looked around and then jutted her chin toward the door. Simone was stepping back inside, all discombobulated, tugging at her tube top, sweeping blonde hair away from her eyes, wiping away smeared lipstick.
God
, Simone, Rosie thought, why don’t you be a little bit more obvious? Simone looked over and tried to catch her eye, but Rosie looked away, back to the stage. Another music video was starting, with three men in grass hula skirts playing electric guitars. She wondered if the woman would ever wriggle back into the seal suit. Hallie jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow and smiled in exasperation. Rosie closed her eyes tightly to clear her mind. When she opened them, a whole lot of girls had started dancing together side by side, and Rosie began to move with them in one spot, weaving like a cobra, slowly at first and then faster, and her cowboy boots began to move beneath her, and lead her around the floor like a partner.
eight
O NE rainy night in early May Elizabeth was vacuuming the living room rug, since the girls planned to sleep on it later. They had gone off to the indoor courts for an evening of practice with Peter and some of his
loved
to kiss, but she told Rosie it wasn’t enough for boys. Boys liked the other things too. Her pelvis tightened again, like it was holding its breath, and she turned toward the stage to watch the music video. Now there was footage of seals, popping their heads out of the surf as if to the beat, cheerful and sad all at once. At first she thought they were the seals who lived in the bay, the ones you saw from the ferry or who sunned themselves on the piers of San Francisco or at the beach on the Hospital Cove side of Angel Island. In the video there was an old one sitting by himself on a rock above the water, and maybe it was his wet doggy eyes or the tatters in his coat, but he made Rosie think of Luther.
And she saw Luther watching her, there at the dance, from the screen, hidden inside the seal.
Simone loved dolphins, but Rosie loved seals. She thought dolphins were smug and fishy, with their skimpy little eyes. It was hard to imagine truly snuggling with dolphins, but seals seemed made to snuggle, they were boneless and floppy like sofas. Around her more and more kids were dancing, but she was locked into the seals on the screen. The sweet dog eyes of the old one were looking right into the camera, right into her. The music was too loud. One of the seals came splashing out of the surf onto the sand, this guy who had been so speedy and gracefulin the water but was so clumsy on land. There was something in its lumpy wigglishness that made her think of herself—not of her athletic outsides but of her secret, private self. She looked around for Simone but could not find her. One of these days Simone is going to go too far, she said to herself—it was a line from one of her favorite novels, uttered by the angry mother of a teenage girl as she raised a cup of poisoned coffee to her lips …
On screen the most amazing thing was happening: in the shadows of the beach, one of the seals was pulling off its seal suit, pulling the wet brown rubbery skin down past its head, to reveal a sad and beautiful woman within, and the tight suit slipped down over and past her shoulders, the way you’d slip out of an off-the-shoulder evening dress. Oh, Mom, she thought, missing her mother again, I wish you could have seen it; it was exactly what it feels like to be me. Where you mostly think you’re one shape but deep inside you know you’re many. So awkward here at the dance, but so fast on the court, like the woman who had been inside the sealskin—one skin, another skin, same stuff. She pictured Luther watching her swim, Luther with his wet brown eyes.
“Hey!” said Hallie. “Earth calling Rosie.” Rosie looked away from the screen, from the seals. She smiled at Hallie and the other girls. “Do you see Simone?” she asked, and Hallie looked around and then jutted her chin toward the door. Simone was stepping back inside, all discombobulated, tugging at her tube top, sweeping blonde hair away from her eyes, wiping away smeared lipstick.
God
, Simone, Rosie thought, why don’t you be a little bit more obvious? Simone looked over and tried to catch her eye, but Rosie looked away, back to the stage. Another music video was starting, with three men in grass hula skirts playing electric guitars. She wondered if the woman would ever wriggle back into the seal suit. Hallie jabbed her in the ribs with her elbow and smiled in exasperation. Rosie closed her eyes tightly to clear her mind. When she opened them, a whole lot of girls had started dancing together side by side, and Rosie began to move with them in one spot, weaving like a cobra, slowly at first and then faster, and her cowboy boots began to move beneath her, and lead her around the floor like a partner.
eight
O NE rainy night in early May Elizabeth was vacuuming the living room rug, since the girls planned to sleep on it later. They had gone off to the indoor courts for an evening of practice with Peter and some of his
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