Whisper (4 page)

I miss thunder. I used to love storms. Now they're just another reminder that I'm living with the world on mute.

Sometimes I imagine I have a remote control, and if I could only find the right button to press, I'd be able to fix things.

I'd be able to fix me.

It's easier to get to the pool from the deaf school than from my old school. I'm glad I put my swimming stuff in my bag this morning.

Swimming is the one thing that hasn't really changed.It's the one thing that's nearly the same as before.

Even before I get in the water, there's a feeling of comfort.I don't stand out. I'm just there to do laps. Just another anonymous swimmer.

The woman behind the front desk has been there forever.She was there way before I went deaf. I don't think she even knows. She's skinny and wrinkly and her hair is the sort of greeny colour that blondes go when they spend too much time in chlorine.

The lines on her face are like a map of misery. She only ever says one thing, so I don't even really need to lip-read; don't have to concentrate.

‘You a member?'

All I have to do is nod and hand her my card.

I walk down the concrete corridor, breathing the familiar smell of dampness and chlorine.

There is a special changing room for the disabled, with a wheelchair sticker peeling off the door. I used to change there, before, if the regular change rooms were busy. I liked the extra space.

Now I keep to the opposite side of the corridor, giving that room a wide berth. As though it could reach out and suck me in if I got too close.

The normal changing room is empty. I quickly change into my bathers. I tie my hair in a ponytail and then tuck it into my bathing cap. It's always a struggle to get all my hair in.The mirror gives me a misty view of a normal girl in bathers and swimming cap.

I walk out to the pool. The lap lanes are pretty full. I don't feel like fighting for territory today. I sneak a glance at the front desk. The woman is reading a magazine, not paying attention. I decide to risk doing my laps in the empty aquaplay area, roped off from the lap lanes.

I adjust my goggles and dive in. After the first two laps, the tempo kicks in. The tension in my shoulders is gone.One, two, three, breathe.

There are ripples coming from the closest lane, reminding me there are others using the pool. They are deaf too.Everyone is deaf underwater. I am no different.

I used to struggle with the silence when I swam. I used to wish that the pool had music underwater, like some pools do. It seemed boring, just having the thoughts in my head.But I don't feel that way anymore. Maybe I'm finally getting used to the silence.

I think back over my day. I think of Helena stomping and Erica's cochlear sticking out for everyone to see. I think of Alistair and his romantic notions about deafness. It all seems surreal, like the memories of another girl's day.

I miss my old friends. And not just because they were normal. Are normal. Even if the kids at my new school weren't deaf, they still couldn't replace my old friends.

I turn at the end of the pool. When I push out, I find myself thinking about that last sleepover at Nadia's.

It was a Saturday. We were all watching a DVD – with subtitles for me. Well, half-watching a DVD. Stavros and Lockie were revved up, and Lockie kept moving in front of the TV to break dance. He wasn't very good.

Nadia was acting pissed off. I could see that she was yelling at him to move, but it egged him on like a red rag to a bull. I was still sort of trying to follow the movie, but I didn't really care. I was distracted, and not only by Lockie and his terrible moves. Shae kept sneaking looks at Stavros.I'd never noticed her doing it before, and I wondered if it was a new crush or if it had always been there and I was only seeing it now I studied people's faces and body language so closely.

The lounge door opened and Nadia's dad was there.He seemed to be complaining about the noise. We probably were being noisy but of course I didn't really know. Nadia's little brother Jasper appeared beside his dad.

‘What's going on?' he asked.

‘Show them, Lockie,' I said, and I didn't worry about whether I sounded weird, because these were my friends.

Lockie didn't need much encouragement. Jasper watched him, appalled. He moved to the centre of the room, blocking the TV and taking Lockie's place.

Nadia rolled her eyes with embarrassment, but I was impressed. Jasper was light on his feet and his arms easily supported him when he flipped into a handstand. Lockie moved beside him, mirroring Jasper's cool moves with his own clunky ones. Everyone cracked up.

I loved it. I remember thinking that I might be deaf but that I still belonged there with my friends.

I push off the wall into another lap. My rhythm is being altered by the waves from the action in the lane next to me.I move back to the left-hand side of the lane. I focus on my stroke for a lap, still thinking of that moment at Nadia's.

I slowly realise I am in perfect sync with the swimmer in the lane next to me. Every time I lift my head to breathe on that side, I see him lifting his. Our arms rise up together, slice the water together. It works that way for a whole lap.We touch the wall at the same time. When I turn, though, he's switched to butterfly and the moment is gone.

I switch to breaststroke. I don't have the best technique, but I go deep, right down with the stroke. I could do breaststroke forever. It's like moving between two worlds.The underwater one is blue and dense and the black line at the bottom of the pool stays put. The world above is lighter, and the black line beneath the surface splays and shifts like a trick.

I do a couple of laps, enjoying the easy transition between the air and the water. Up ahead there's a group of guys gathered around the edge of the pool. Their coach looks serious. He has swimmer's arms, a drinker's belly and skinny legs. He reminds me of a flip book I had when I was young, where you match a giraffe's head to a monkey's torso to a pelican's legs. The coach gets the guys lined up, and they start diving in, one by one.

The guy next in line to dive looks at me. He's cute. I think he's smiling but I might be wrong. For some reason I feel sure he was the one who was swimming in sync with me.

I go under. I'm at the end of the pool, about to do another flip, when I feel a hand placed firmly on my head. It's the skinny blonde from reception. Her mouth is moving and her eyes are narrowed, angry.

She's talking quickly and I don't get it but I know it's because I'm swimming in the wrong section. She looks mad, like she's been yelling. She thinks I've been ignoring her. I feel my face flushing with anger and embarrassment.

I hate this sort of thing. It's moments like this when I think I might actually like it if everyone could tell that I'm deaf. Would it be better if they knew instantly, like with Erica and her cochlear implant? Or others that wear hearing aids?Of course, it wouldn't help once I was in the pool – I'd have to take them off anyway.

I stand up. I duck under the lane rope to the lap lane and swim off, wanting the cool water to wash away the humiliation. The now-familiar feeling of missing out on the details, of being on the outer, makes me think again of that day at Nadia's.

After the boys went home, Nadia, Shae and I lined up our mattresses, three in a row. Shae was in the middle and I was wishing that I was, and wondering if I could say anything.

Nadia got up, pulling her bunny dressing gown around her. It was the one with little rabbits hopping in different directions. It's really daggy. It's my favourite.

I couldn't believe it when Nadia turned the light off without telling me.

I wanted us all to go to sleep, because I was blocked out now. Out of any conversation. But I could just see their lips moving in the dark, so I knew they were still talking.They were both on their backs, talking up at the ceiling.They were probably whispering their night secrets but how would I know?

It felt horribly familiar. Even at school, in broad daylight, half the time I felt like everyone was whispering secrets.Every time I couldn't make out what someone was saying by lip-reading, every time someone turned away, or covered their mouths so I couldn't follow what was being said, I wondered what I was missing out on.

I don't know if Nadia and Shae had just forgotten that I couldn't hear them, or if they didn't care. Either way my friends were ignoring me. I didn't know what they were saying. And they were obviously saying
a lot
. Shae might even have been sharing her feelings about Stavros.

Cold fear rushed through me. Maybe they weren't ignoring me. Maybe they were whispering
about
me.

I propped my head up to get a better look at them. Their mouths were moving at the same time, making the same shapes. They were singing.

Somehow it was just as bad as being whispered about. I didn't even know what the song was.

I switch back from breaststroke to freestyle mid-lap. I am eager to move away from the memory now.

From that night, I ditched the sleepovers. I gave myself a curfew, made excuses. But I didn't know that what was coming would come anyway.

I swim faster, but it doesn't help. Now that I've started, a whole tangle of things I don't want to think about are flashing through my mind.

The fight with Nadia on the oval that day.

Making a fool of myself with Jules.

I keep breathing, keep swimming, but my mind is on fast forward and, as if the fight and the stuff with Jules isn't enough, I start thinking about that day at Northfield.The thing I
really
don't want to remember.

I think of that huge guard, his hand heavy on my shoulder.I think of the panic overwhelming me, and the feeling of not getting enough oxygen. But mostly I think of all those people looking at me with disgust – or was it pity?

I've had enough for today. I swim to the side of the pool where the steps are and get out.

chapter 6

Flawless has a new green Saab. It gleams in our driveway, making Dad's ute look extra dirty. I bite my lip as I edge past it. I'm glad that the boys will be here, but with Flawless and Mum around, the interrogation will be planned and there'll be no escape.

I put down my school bag. I need a minute to prepare for their onslaught.

I can see them through the kitchen window. They make a great team. Flawless always agrees with Mum, and Mum loves to be agreed with. I am the perfect subject for them, and the way Flawless is nodding as she chops vegetables makes me think that I'm being discussed right now.

Flawless was twelve when I was born. She wasn't Flawless to me back then. She was Felicity, and I adored her. I was heartbroken whenever she went to stay with her own mum, and was always rapt when she came home. I loved it when people said we both looked like Dad. That she was a fair version, and I was the dark one. I copied the way she dressed and the way she spoke. I followed her around everywhere.

I was only eight when she met Ryan. They were both at uni, both studying law. Ryan was a few years older.He already had his own house and car. I could see why my sister fell for him. He was a handsome mature-age student.Except that he wasn't very mature – he was really funny.He would put a pillow up the back of his T-shirt and pretend to be the hunchback of Notre Dame. He used to lope around chasing me until I squealed for Felicity to come and rescue me.

Felicity didn't finish her law degree. She got pregnant and had Harry instead.

I loved being a nine-year-old auntie. And back then Felicity was still fun. Ryan was pretty successful by the time they had Oscar. But it was like the richer they got, the more boring Felicity became. She stopped being funny and got all serious, all mature and sensible and perfect. It was in high school that Nadia and I started secretly calling her Flawless, and it was so right it just stuck.

These days it's like all she cares about, other than the boys, is her perfect house and going to the gym and getting her hair done and agreeing with Mum.

I pick up my bag again. It feels heavier than before. I let myself in and head to the lounge room.

Harry and Oscar have used their unsupervised playtime excellently. Their faces are both covered in black texta.Harry is just about to add some more art to Oscar's nose when he sees me.

‘Hello,' he signs, lifting his hand and my spirits. His smile is missing two front teeth.

Oscar lies back on the carpet like an upturned bug. It's my signal to tickle. So I kneel next to him and go for it. I wish I could hear him laugh. He's three now. He was only one when I went deaf. His laugh has probably changed. But I do see how his eyes squint as his chubby cheeks take over his face.

His little legs are cycling in the air, and I turn to avoid getting a knee in the face. Felicity is standing in the doorway.I don't know how long she's been there. She is wearing a pink Ralph Lauren polo, collar upturned, and perfectly white jeans.

‘Harry! Oscar! Bathroom!' She wouldn't be yelling; that would look like she'd lost control. But she quickly gets hold of Harry's hand and then pulls Oscar out of his dead-bug position, ready for the drag to the bathroom.

‘Hi, Demi,' she says, as the boys squirm on either side of her. ‘I can't wait to hear about your day.'

I lean against the couch. Flawless exits and Mum enters.

They should have a baton.

‘Long day?' Mum asks in sign, and the fact that she doesn't say it too, like she would normally, is a warning to me.

It's designed to remind me that she is pretty good at sign language – that we have already made adjustments in our house to cope with my deafness. So this new adjustment, this new school, is unnecessary.

She's wearing her concerned look. It says, ‘don't worry, we will be here for you when you change your mind and make the
right
decision' more clearly than any sign could.

‘No, it wasn't a long day. It was good,' I say. I don't sign it at all.