The Pixies, Surfer Rosa
Part Two, Read Part One
That they moved—it wasn't nearly as dramatic as it sounded. They moved to a neighboring suburb, but when you're too young to drive, anywhere that you can't get to on your bike seems very, very far away. Over the years, Jedi, too, saw less and less of Mise and Mase. Then Mise and Jedi went off to college, and Mase and I started high school—Mase at the Catholic school, me at the public one.
Every once in a while, I saw Mase in the crowd at parties or games and wondered what he was like. We'd wave or say "hey" to each other in passing but never anything beyond that. I assumed the worst because I knew he'd gotten into soccer and lacrosse, hung out with the khaki-pants and "Cocks"-hat wearing crowd. Then I heard that he was dating Ashley S_____, the daughter of a doctor in town. I saw her zipping around in her cherry red Cabrio, gaggle of adoring girlfriends enveloping her everywhere she went. She was the kind of girl who came into the clothing store where I worked, tried on a bunch of things, and complained to her girlfriends that nothing fit because she was "sooooo fat." Meanwhile, you could see her clavicle jutting out from beneath her shirt. And she'd sashay out of the place, leaving a pile of size zeroes in her wake for me to clean up.
Mase resurfaced in the spring of my junior year. I leaving work, praising Jesus that I didn't have to fold one more goddamn t-shirt until the weekend when I saw him walking past the food court. He waved and I waved back but instead of walking on, he stopped.
"Hey, Iseult. What's up?"
"Uh, nothing. You?"
"Nothing. Just hanging out." He stared at me and smiled, then shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels, "So, actually, I was looking for you?"
"Really? How did you know where to find me?"
"Mise told me that you worked here. I mean, your brother told him, and he told me. And anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out."
I thought I'd heard he and Ashley split up and it seemed to me that you didn't get many chances to date your childhood crush. It sounded kind of interesting.
"Sure. Give me a call."
He wrote my number down on his hand, "Great."
****
I'd written down directions to his house on a post-it, which I stuck on my knee. It was so easy to lose your way in a subdivision as big as his was. I turned into Pheasant Glen, left on Cherrytree, turned right on Meadow Ridge, turned left on Fox Hollow, turned left again on to Fox Valley, then turned right on Pleasant Ridge. His house was generic looking, but huge, with white pillars in front and a four-car garage. Mase was waiting for me in the driveway.
"Hey. Let's go."
"Where?"
"For a drive. To the causeway. Let's take your car."
"Why the causeway?"
"Because—because we—I like it there." We walked toward the truck and he stopped. "On second thought, let's take my mom's. Wait here."
He ran back across the street into the house. A few minutes later, the right-side garage door groaned open and he backed a white Mercedes station wagon down the driveway and over to me, motioning for me to get in.
We drove through the subdivision, past dozens and dozens of homes that looked almost exactly like his, and out on to Route 11, heading away from town.
"Music?" He leaned over and opened the glove compartment, took out a stack of CDs. "How about the Pixies?"
"Don't know much about them."
"Oh, really?" He sounded disappointed. "This album is really good," he handed me the case. "It means a lot to me. You should take it with you." It was Surfer Rosa and I was taken by the picture on the cover, a beautiful, topless, Spanish (I guessed) woman—maybe she was a flamenco dancer. I stared at it for a long while. I did what I always do when I get a new CD—opened it up to look at the album credits. A photo fell out onto my lap. I did a double take because the girl in the photo looked an awful lot like me. I turned it over and read:
Mase,
Here's to a great summer. I hope its [sic] as great as I think it will be! I love you so much!Love, Ashley
Class of 1994
As much as I'd seen her around, I'd never noticed how closely Ashley and I resembled each other. It was stunning, really; we could have been cousins, sisters, even. I was taller and bigger than Ashley, but we had the same hair, same coloring, same large, brown eyes and slightly pointy chin. I figured I shouldn't mention the photo or the resemblance, so I slipped the photo back in the case and listened to Kim Deal sing, "Walk her every day into a shady place…"
"What do you think?" Mase asked.
"It's awesome," I replied, as we drove along the two-lane road, past silos and barns, deeper into the country.
****
For our next date, Mase suggested that we hang out at his house. He had the whole thing planned out.
"First, we'll play Ping-Pong. Then we'll take a break and get some chocolate ice cream. Then after that, we'll watch "Say Anything."
Aside from the Ping-Pong, none of it sounded particularly appealing to me, but I liked him and thought it was adorable that he'd created a blueprint for our entire evening. We played Ping-Pong for a while and I was kicking ass. Mase didn't seem too pleased. "This isn't how it's supposed to go," he said.
"What," I laughed, "I'm not supposed to win because I'm a girl or something?"
He furrowed his brow, "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, you're not supposed to—" he paused. "Never mind. Let's get some ice cream, okay?"
In the kitchen, he was rummaging through a drawer looking for the ice cream scoop. I was sitting on a stool flipping through Good Housekeeping.
"Oh! I didn't know you had company! Hi, dear," said a woman with a twinkly voice.
I swiveled around and her eyes grew wide for a moment, then she looked confused.
"Uh, Mom, this is Iseult."
"Hi," I shook her hand.
She still looked confused, "Nice to meet you." She continued to stare at me as if I was on display. "Do you go to Kennedy, too?"
"Nope. H______."
She looked over at Mase who was aggressively scooping ice cream into a bowl.
"Well," she walked toward the kitchen entrance, "you two have a nice time, okay?"
"Thanks. Bye," I waved at her and she waved back, a look of befuddlement still on her face. "I don't think your mom likes me."
Mase handed me a bowl, "Forget about it. Let's go downstairs."
We took the ice cream down to the family room and Mase put in the movie. I went to sit on the left side of the couch. He said, "No. You should sit there," pointing to the right side.
"Okay," I did and tucked my feet underneath me.
"You can put your feet on the table," Mase was hovering over me, "I mean, if you want."
"No. I'm good like this. Thanks." He looked upset. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he turned off the lights and sat next to me. "Let's watch."
Halfway through the movie he leaned over and kissed me. It wasn't an especially exciting kiss, but I figured this was a warm up. I faced him and tried to get comfortable. The problem was that Mase was fighting me every step of the way. I'd move right, he'd move left. I'd adjust my arm, he'd move it back. On and on and on until finally I said, "Hey, maybe we could go to the floor or something?"
Mase sat back. "No. We never kissed on the floor."
"Yeah. I know. I've never been here, remember?"
He looked at me and blinked. "Oh right. Sorry." He turned off the movie, "Listen, Iseult, I'm kind of tired."
I already had my coat on. "Okay. I'll take off."
"I'll call you later."
"Sure. Whatever." I couldn't drive home fast enough.
****
Fully expecting him not to, and not really wanting him to, I was surprised when he called, apologizing for the Ping-Pong night and asking if we could hang out on Wednesday.
"I'll come to your house and we'll watch 90210, get a pizza, and play cards, then we'll—"
He sounded so eager that I thought I should give him one more chance, "Whoa, there. I'm with you on the 90210, but let's get Chinese. And I'm not really into cards."
"Okay. That'll work, I guess."
"Great. I'll see you later."
When he came in, he looked so cute that I almost for got how weird he was the last time we hung out. Almost. He took off his sweatshirt and handed it to me.
"I thought you might want to wear it. In case it gets cold in here."
"I'm fine right now, but thanks." I reached over to drape it across a chair and he grabbed it back.
"I'll hold on to it—until you're ready."
"Really, I don't think I'll need it."
He was insistent, "But you might."
"Okay…"
I went to the kitchen to order the food, glad to be away from him. He was starting to get on my nerves. We ate and didn't say much to each other. The show came on and he sat right next to me, head on my shoulder. I stared over at him and he looked happy, so I just let him stay there. At a commercial, I got up to go smoke a cigarette on the porch, "Be right back."
He looked at me in horror, "You smoke?"
"Yeah, sometimes. Does that bother you?"
"You're not supposed to."
"Yeah, I know that, too. Thanks for the PSA."
When I came back inside, he thrust out the sweatshirt, "Put this on, okay?"
I tossed it on the couch. "Mase, what is it with you and the sweatshirt? I told you I wasn't cold."
"Yeah, but you're supposed to wear it."
"Supposed to? What the hell are you talking about?"
He looked frantic, "Look, I know you're not her, but you're close enough, so maybe you could just pretend?"
Then it all made sense, of course. The photo, his mom's reaction toward me, his insistence on having things go a certain way, on wanting me to act a certain way. He wanted me to be Ashley.
*****
Two summers ago, Jedi and I were both in town visiting our parents. We sat on the porch drinking beers and catching up.
"Hey—remember Mase P_____?"
I rolled my eyes, "Sure do. Wish I didn't. Why?"
"Hold on," he went in the house and brought back the newspaper. "Look at the wedding announcements."
"Wow," I glanced quickly at the photo accompanying Mase's announcement. "He ended up marrying that Ashley girl, huh?"
Jedi laughed, "Not exactly. Look again."
From left to right: The groom, Mase P_____; his best man and brother Mise P_____; The bride, Cassie S_____; maid of honor and sister Ashley S______…
The Pixies, Surfer Rosa
Gift of Mase P_____
Spring of 1993
That they moved—it wasn't nearly as dramatic as it sounded. They moved to a neighboring suburb, but when you're too young to drive, anywhere that you can't get to on your bike seems very, very far away. Over the years, Jedi, too, saw less and less of Mise and Mase. Then Mise and Jedi went off to college, and Mase and I started high school—Mase at the Catholic school, me at the public one.
Every once in a while, I saw Mase in the crowd at parties or games and wondered what he was like. We'd wave or say "hey" to each other in passing but never anything beyond that. I assumed the worst because I knew he'd gotten into soccer and lacrosse, hung out with the khaki-pants and "Cocks"-hat wearing crowd. Then I heard that he was dating Ashley S_____, the daughter of a doctor in town. I saw her zipping around in her cherry red Cabrio, gaggle of adoring girlfriends enveloping her everywhere she went. She was the kind of girl who came into the clothing store where I worked, tried on a bunch of things, and complained to her girlfriends that nothing fit because she was "sooooo fat." Meanwhile, you could see her clavicle jutting out from beneath her shirt. And she'd sashay out of the place, leaving a pile of size zeroes in her wake for me to clean up.
Mase resurfaced in the spring of my junior year. I leaving work, praising Jesus that I didn't have to fold one more goddamn t-shirt until the weekend when I saw him walking past the food court. He waved and I waved back but instead of walking on, he stopped.
"Hey, Iseult. What's up?"
"Uh, nothing. You?"
"Nothing. Just hanging out." He stared at me and smiled, then shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back on his heels, "So, actually, I was looking for you?"
"Really? How did you know where to find me?"
"Mise told me that you worked here. I mean, your brother told him, and he told me. And anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out."
I thought I'd heard he and Ashley split up and it seemed to me that you didn't get many chances to date your childhood crush. It sounded kind of interesting.
"Sure. Give me a call."
He wrote my number down on his hand, "Great."
****
I'd written down directions to his house on a post-it, which I stuck on my knee. It was so easy to lose your way in a subdivision as big as his was. I turned into Pheasant Glen, left on Cherrytree, turned right on Meadow Ridge, turned left on Fox Hollow, turned left again on to Fox Valley, then turned right on Pleasant Ridge. His house was generic looking, but huge, with white pillars in front and a four-car garage. Mase was waiting for me in the driveway.
"Hey. Let's go."
"Where?"
"For a drive. To the causeway. Let's take your car."
"Why the causeway?"
"Because—because we—I like it there." We walked toward the truck and he stopped. "On second thought, let's take my mom's. Wait here."
He ran back across the street into the house. A few minutes later, the right-side garage door groaned open and he backed a white Mercedes station wagon down the driveway and over to me, motioning for me to get in.
We drove through the subdivision, past dozens and dozens of homes that looked almost exactly like his, and out on to Route 11, heading away from town.
"Music?" He leaned over and opened the glove compartment, took out a stack of CDs. "How about the Pixies?"
"Don't know much about them."
"Oh, really?" He sounded disappointed. "This album is really good," he handed me the case. "It means a lot to me. You should take it with you." It was Surfer Rosa and I was taken by the picture on the cover, a beautiful, topless, Spanish (I guessed) woman—maybe she was a flamenco dancer. I stared at it for a long while. I did what I always do when I get a new CD—opened it up to look at the album credits. A photo fell out onto my lap. I did a double take because the girl in the photo looked an awful lot like me. I turned it over and read:
Mase,
Here's to a great summer. I hope its [sic] as great as I think it will be! I love you so much!Love, Ashley
Class of 1994
As much as I'd seen her around, I'd never noticed how closely Ashley and I resembled each other. It was stunning, really; we could have been cousins, sisters, even. I was taller and bigger than Ashley, but we had the same hair, same coloring, same large, brown eyes and slightly pointy chin. I figured I shouldn't mention the photo or the resemblance, so I slipped the photo back in the case and listened to Kim Deal sing, "Walk her every day into a shady place…"
"What do you think?" Mase asked.
"It's awesome," I replied, as we drove along the two-lane road, past silos and barns, deeper into the country.
****
For our next date, Mase suggested that we hang out at his house. He had the whole thing planned out.
"First, we'll play Ping-Pong. Then we'll take a break and get some chocolate ice cream. Then after that, we'll watch "Say Anything."
Aside from the Ping-Pong, none of it sounded particularly appealing to me, but I liked him and thought it was adorable that he'd created a blueprint for our entire evening. We played Ping-Pong for a while and I was kicking ass. Mase didn't seem too pleased. "This isn't how it's supposed to go," he said.
"What," I laughed, "I'm not supposed to win because I'm a girl or something?"
He furrowed his brow, "No, that's not what I meant. I mean, you're not supposed to—" he paused. "Never mind. Let's get some ice cream, okay?"
In the kitchen, he was rummaging through a drawer looking for the ice cream scoop. I was sitting on a stool flipping through Good Housekeeping.
"Oh! I didn't know you had company! Hi, dear," said a woman with a twinkly voice.
I swiveled around and her eyes grew wide for a moment, then she looked confused.
"Uh, Mom, this is Iseult."
"Hi," I shook her hand.
She still looked confused, "Nice to meet you." She continued to stare at me as if I was on display. "Do you go to Kennedy, too?"
"Nope. H______."
She looked over at Mase who was aggressively scooping ice cream into a bowl.
"Well," she walked toward the kitchen entrance, "you two have a nice time, okay?"
"Thanks. Bye," I waved at her and she waved back, a look of befuddlement still on her face. "I don't think your mom likes me."
Mase handed me a bowl, "Forget about it. Let's go downstairs."
We took the ice cream down to the family room and Mase put in the movie. I went to sit on the left side of the couch. He said, "No. You should sit there," pointing to the right side.
"Okay," I did and tucked my feet underneath me.
"You can put your feet on the table," Mase was hovering over me, "I mean, if you want."
"No. I'm good like this. Thanks." He looked upset. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he turned off the lights and sat next to me. "Let's watch."
Halfway through the movie he leaned over and kissed me. It wasn't an especially exciting kiss, but I figured this was a warm up. I faced him and tried to get comfortable. The problem was that Mase was fighting me every step of the way. I'd move right, he'd move left. I'd adjust my arm, he'd move it back. On and on and on until finally I said, "Hey, maybe we could go to the floor or something?"
Mase sat back. "No. We never kissed on the floor."
"Yeah. I know. I've never been here, remember?"
He looked at me and blinked. "Oh right. Sorry." He turned off the movie, "Listen, Iseult, I'm kind of tired."
I already had my coat on. "Okay. I'll take off."
"I'll call you later."
"Sure. Whatever." I couldn't drive home fast enough.
****
Fully expecting him not to, and not really wanting him to, I was surprised when he called, apologizing for the Ping-Pong night and asking if we could hang out on Wednesday.
"I'll come to your house and we'll watch 90210, get a pizza, and play cards, then we'll—"
He sounded so eager that I thought I should give him one more chance, "Whoa, there. I'm with you on the 90210, but let's get Chinese. And I'm not really into cards."
"Okay. That'll work, I guess."
"Great. I'll see you later."
When he came in, he looked so cute that I almost for got how weird he was the last time we hung out. Almost. He took off his sweatshirt and handed it to me.
"I thought you might want to wear it. In case it gets cold in here."
"I'm fine right now, but thanks." I reached over to drape it across a chair and he grabbed it back.
"I'll hold on to it—until you're ready."
"Really, I don't think I'll need it."
He was insistent, "But you might."
"Okay…"
I went to the kitchen to order the food, glad to be away from him. He was starting to get on my nerves. We ate and didn't say much to each other. The show came on and he sat right next to me, head on my shoulder. I stared over at him and he looked happy, so I just let him stay there. At a commercial, I got up to go smoke a cigarette on the porch, "Be right back."
He looked at me in horror, "You smoke?"
"Yeah, sometimes. Does that bother you?"
"You're not supposed to."
"Yeah, I know that, too. Thanks for the PSA."
When I came back inside, he thrust out the sweatshirt, "Put this on, okay?"
I tossed it on the couch. "Mase, what is it with you and the sweatshirt? I told you I wasn't cold."
"Yeah, but you're supposed to wear it."
"Supposed to? What the hell are you talking about?"
He looked frantic, "Look, I know you're not her, but you're close enough, so maybe you could just pretend?"
Then it all made sense, of course. The photo, his mom's reaction toward me, his insistence on having things go a certain way, on wanting me to act a certain way. He wanted me to be Ashley.
*****
Two summers ago, Jedi and I were both in town visiting our parents. We sat on the porch drinking beers and catching up.
"Hey—remember Mase P_____?"
I rolled my eyes, "Sure do. Wish I didn't. Why?"
"Hold on," he went in the house and brought back the newspaper. "Look at the wedding announcements."
"Wow," I glanced quickly at the photo accompanying Mase's announcement. "He ended up marrying that Ashley girl, huh?"
Jedi laughed, "Not exactly. Look again."
From left to right: The groom, Mase P_____; his best man and brother Mise P_____; The bride, Cassie S_____; maid of honor and sister Ashley S______…
The Pixies, Surfer Rosa
Gift of Mase P_____
Spring of 1993
posted by Iseult at 1:02 PM
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