Why Don't Clouds Fall?

"Why don't clouds fall?" she asks.1

"Hmm?" I reply,distracted. I was reading a crime novel about a serial killer in Boston. The lead detective was just about to figure out the killer's identity. I was eager to learn if my guesses were right. But I put my finger between the pages and looked up."Why don't what?"2

She brushes sand from her hands and comes closer. "If clouds are so big,", she gazes skyward, "then why don't they fall out of the sky?"3

"Ah," I answer sagely. "Well, because clouds aren't anything but air. They don't weigh anything."4

This was my first vacation away with her. My ex-wife had beneficently granted me permission to take my daughter for a whole week, to the far-off land of Florida, so I could spend some time "bonding" with her, as Melissa called it. She had so many new words for parenting since she met Bernard. She was into all the latest parenting trends. 5

When we were dating I called her Lissa. We were young, I was madly in love, and it sounded cute. When our daughter was born, she wanted to name her Lissa, too. But I said no, that's our name, what about Elise? And so that was it. Elise. Not Eliza, not Alicia. El-ees.6

Elise digs in the sand down by the surf's edge. When a wave comes up high, the water rushes around her and she drops her shovel and cries out. Then she laughs. I look up from my book, and smile. I think about what we'll do later on, go for some pizza maybe, or rent a silly movie in our hotel room. I want to take her to the science museum in Sarasota tomorrow. Let her explore new things, watch her eyes as she learns.7

"You can't take her out of school." Melissa glares at me on my computer screen. " The judge said you can have a week in July."8

"Lissa, I want to let her swim and play on the beach in January! What's the harm in that? You've got two feet of snow up there!"9

"She'll miss a week of school."10

"And that's a big deal because...? 11

"Because," she pauses. The computer connection jumps a bit. She folds her arms across her chest. " I suppose it won't matter."12

Elise is chasing seagulls. She runs as fast as she can towards where they've settled on the beach, flailing her arms, screaming some ancient war cry known only to five-year-old children as she streaks into the flock, causing them to launch screeching into the sky. The sun is nearly down, the sky is already changing into the nighttime phase, brilliant colors in the west. Elise chases the gulls, her yellow bathing suit flashing against the sand. I watch her, my daughter, my love, my reason. I've finished my crime novel, the killer is in jail and the victims avenged. All is well with the world.13

Elise comes running up, panting and out of breath as if she has just completed the tasks of Hercules. She kneels on the blanket I've spread. I sit down beside her, put my arm around her tiny shoulders. Her wet bathing suit dampens my arm. She sighs deeply.14

"It's the sundown," she says.15

"Yes, it is," I answer.16

"I think I know why, Daddy."17

"Why what, baby?"18

"I think I know why clouds don't fall."19

I brush loose strands of hair from her face. "Oh? And why don't they?"20

"Because they're guarding us from bad things."21

Guarding us, I think. I hug my daughter. I think, I can't fall. I think, I can never fall.22

THE END23