So Much for Democracy by Kari Jones Read Free Book Online

they’re all biking around the neighborhood. Usually when I think about them I get sad, but not today. Today the only thing I want to do is lie here and float with Thema.
    Thema starts to sing, and I flip over to watch her. She has the most beautiful voice. Mom says she sounds like an African angel. Dad says she could give the opera singer Jessye Norman a run for her money. Thema always talks about going to London when she’s older to study voice. She could do it too—she’s that good. Her voice is big, even here on the water, and it makes me laugh to watch her face as it fills with the sound she’s making. We both giggle as she fills up her chest and finishes the song.
    â€œSing something from Donna Summer,” I say.
    She starts a song I haven’t heard before. “What is that?” I ask.
    â€œâ€˜Hot Stuff.’ It just came out. Auntie sent it from London. You have to come over to listen. You have to.” She sings the first line again, and I can’t help but sit up so I can dance. Thema sits too, and then we both stand and dance around on the wobbly air mattresses.
    â€œAstrid!” Mom’s voice carries loudly across the water. I turn and wave at her, but she calls again. “Astrid!” There’s something in her voice, even across the water, that makes me sit.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Thema says to me.
    â€œI don’t know.” Mom is waving frantically, so I flop down on the mattress and paddle for shore with Thema right beside me. When the water is knee deep, we both hop off and wade in.
    â€œCome in, please, Astrid. You know you’re not supposed to stand on the air mattresses,” says Mom.
    She puts her hand out to take the mattress from me.
    â€œMom! We were hardly far out at all,” I say.
    â€œThat’s not the point.”
    â€œWe were only at chest level. If I fell off, I could stand up in the water easily.”
    â€œArguing with me isn’t helping, Astrid.”
    â€œIt’s okay, Astrid, we can sit here,” says Thema, and the two of us sit down on our mattresses in the shallow water.
    Mom stands over us for a minute, then says, “Astrid, the air mattress, please.”
    â€œMom! We’re in, like, two inches of water.”
    She reaches over to take it from me, but I’m a bit too far away, and she stumbles.
    â€œAstrid, you give me that thing right now.”
    â€œWhy?” I ask. She’s being stupid. I was going to give it back to her, but now I’m not.
    â€œAstrid, one more word from you and you’ll sit in the car for the rest of the day,” says Mom. Her face is red, and her voice sounds choked.
    â€œAstrid, it’s okay. Give her the mattress. I’ll put mine away too,” says Thema, but I stare at Mom and pull the mattress farther away. My face burns now, though I’m still in the water. Why is Mom acting like this? She never used to treat me this way. She used to be fun, but now all she ever does is tell me I can’t do things. She’s done that so many times over the past few weeks.
    I’m tired of it.
    Thema pulls my mattress out from beneath me and hands it to Mom. “It’s not worth it,” she whispers. Mom takes the mattress and walks away, and Thema and I go sit back on the sand.
    â€œYour mom seems tired,” says Thema.
    Thema’s so understanding. She always has something nice to say about people. I would have said Mom was crazy or, if I was being more serious, disturbed. But tired is maybe all that’s wrong with Mom. Maybe she’s tired out. That doesn’t make sense, though, because at home she didn’t have Abena to help her and she wasn’t exhausted there.
    â€œI’m not sure what’s wrong with her,” I say.
    â€œShe seems…” Thema’s voice trails away, and then she says, “Stricter than usual.”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œEbo brought some boogie boards,”