Swimming Through Clouds (A YA Contemporary Novel) by Rajdeep Paulus Read Free Book Online

bad to play when I
have plenty of time and hardly any homework?” He sat in his office behind his
desk, and his response was my first list. Then he handed it to me, and his
words sealed my fate. “Now, Talia, if you have any extra time after you
complete your chores, you can have a playdate .”
Having only recently learned to read, the sheer number of words on the page
crushed any hope of a semi-normal childhood.
    I saw all the other kids run off on with each others’
mommies, inviting each other to birthday parties and weekend movies. Maybe
their lists were shorter? I put my best tough-girl face on when I rejected
their kind invitations. “Sorry, I can’t make it.” Before long, the kids stopped
asking.
    At night, under my covers, I cried myself to sleep and
dreamt of tea parties and dress-up fun. I always included Jesse in my dreams,
because he longed for friends, too. And Mom would be a queen or a fairy or an
angel, free of rules and free to fly. When she flew, her long black hair
glistened in the sunlight. Mom only broke Dad’s laws twice, each incident
etched in my mind like a ridge of quicksand around a beautiful castle. I drown
each time I try to swim past the memories.
    Mom and Dad rarely left the house together, leaving Jess and
I alone. Parent-teacher conferences marked one annual exception. Dad prepped
her with the same speech every year: “Stick to business. No social comments.
Only questions regarding the kids’ academic progress.”
    Mom forgot. Forgetting costs dearly in our house. Somehow,
the details will always remain between the walls of my seventh grade math
class, but somehow Mom got too involved in Mr. Beakman’s story about how he uses math to perfect his shot when he goes deer hunting. All
we heard when the fit hit the shan was that Mom asked
him if he knew any women who hunted for sport.
    They barely reached the house when Dad pushed Mom through
the door and up the stairs, simultaneously screaming at her. “You’ll pay for
each word of disrespect, Gita! You hear me?”
    We all heard him. Jesse and I watched from the bottom of the
stairs as Mom repeatedly apologized, her words as effective as candy flavored
placebo.
    “You could get me fired if people start snooping into our
lives. That’s why we keep people out! Were you planning to invite her teacher
over for personal hunting lessons next? What were you gonna do if Mr. Beakman asked to give Talia private
shooting lessons? You of all people should know what men do when they’re alone
with little girls. Or are you thinking of running off to the woods and leaving
the children? You just don’t get it. So today, I’ll make sure you get it and
you’ll never forget it! You hear?” Who didn’t hear his fiery bellow?
    Next thing we knew, he shoved Mom into their bedroom and
into the closet, latched it, and then a warning echoed through the house. “Now,
spend some time thinking about how you can make sure that it never happens
again!” Neither Jess nor I knew when Dad had installed a lock on the closet door
in their bedroom.
      Completed our
evening lists without speaking to each other, my brother and I knew to stay
clear of the hurricane. I sobbed as I scrubbed down the bathroom floor. I
wanted to rescue Mom, but knew, as always, we had to wait it out.
    Jesse moved around the house to close the shades and
curtains, and I could hear his eleven-year-old fists punching the drapes when
he reached my room. Glanced up from the tile floor into my room to catch
Jesse’s gaze, his eyes chained rodeo bulls. We heard Mom banging on the closet
door, my parents’ bedroom across from mine, saying, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m
sorry,” over and over and over again.
    I went to bed that night hating Dad more than ever. I don’t
actually know when I fell asleep. I gripped the sheets of my bed and pummeled
my pillow in anger, listening to Mom’s pleas late into the night. Eyes drained
from weeping, arms weary from punching—I slept. I knew I