The Exchange

THE EXCHANGE: A NOVEL NADIJA MUJAGIC Copyright © 2023 by Nadija Mujagic All rights reserved. First Edition Pioneer Publishing, LLC Somerville, MA ISBN 978-1-7370047-4-5 No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance of actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Chapter 43 Chapter 44 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Chapter 51 Chapter 52 Chapter 53 Chapter 54 Chapter 55 Chapter 56 Chapter 57 Chapter 58 Chapter 59 Chapter 60 Chapter 61 Chapter 62 Chapter 63 Chapter 64 Thank you! About the Author Also by Nadija Mujagic CHAPTER ONE NOW I drive Jake to the community pool a few blocks away from our house. It’s a hot day, and it’s the only place I can come up with. Gallup doesn’t have many community pools or lakes or ponds to cool off in, especially ones that are suitable for a four-year-old. The heat is oppressive, and the grass looks yellow and unredeemable. A perfect day for a swim and splash. When we arrive, the pool is packed and it looks like everyone is elbow-to-elbow. At least the chairs are still available for rental, so I count myself lucky. I pay for my chair, and Jake runs to the pool and jumps in. I lie down on my rented chair and put my straw hat on. The sun’s rays burn my skin but I enjoy it even though I suspect I will pay for it in blisters later. I keep my eyes trained in Jake’s direction. He’s a fast swimmer, and so it feels like I have to watch all the pool at once. The children scream in their playfulness, and I can feel my eyelids growing heavy. Minutes pass, but I don’t have a clue how many. Children keep screaming and I jump as I open my eyes, cringing at their high-pitch voices. How had I allowed myself to close my eyes? Jake’s voice, if he is screaming, is subdued by the others. Jake. Where is he? I should check in on him. I look after him often to prove to myself I am a decent mother. I remove my hat and sit up. I scan around the pool for Jake, but he’s nowhere to be found. At one point, all the children resemble each other with wet hair glued to their skulls, and spotting him is impossible. I stand up and walk to the pool to get a better vantage point. I move closer to the edge, looking for Jake, but I don’t see him. This is not like Jake—even though he’s only four, he’s mature beyond his age, and he’d do nothing stupid. I feel lucky that he always obeys me and never questions me. He’s an easy and amendable child. After I’ve inspected the entire pool, my throat closes, and everything starts to spin. I’m feeling dizzy and feeling my eyes rolling in the sockets. I’m doing my best to say something, make a move, but I stare at one spot and stand in one place. Where is he? “Jake!” My voice travels along the pool, muffled by the children’s yelps. “Jake!” I scream a little harder and feel the weight of all those eyes staring at me. “Jake! Jake, where are you?” The lifeguard jumps from the watching platform and runs up to me. “Ma’am, you’re looking for someone?” “Yes. I’m looking for my son, Jake. I can’t find him.” I extend my arms toward the pool as if I am about to dive in. “Please. Please find him.” I’m on the edge of sobbing, but I try to keep my cool. The lifeguard walks up to a megaphone and places it on his lips. “Jake! Jake, come out of the pool right now!” The children pause for a second and stare in the lifeguard’s direction, but none even flinch. Then the commotion continues as if nothing is going on. “Will Jake come out of the pool now? Jake, please come out of the pool.” The voice is loud and clear. But no Jake shows up. I am picturing Jake lying on the bottom of the pool lifeless, staring at the sky with his big blue eyes. Feeling nauseas, I’m stumbling around the edge of the pool. I’m choking. With both hands on my mouth, I am shocked and alarmed, and I don’t understand where Jake can be. I yell out his name twice for good measure, but my voice sounds shaky. “Everybody, come out of the pool. Right now!” The lifeguard’s voice through the megaphone dominates the block. I didn’t mean to cause all this commotion, but the situation is dire. “Come out of the pool right now!” The children line up and then inch toward the exit, some stumbling as they attempt to move faster than their legs can carry them. I stand there and watch them pushing each other and exchanging mean looks, angry about the interruption of their play. Several minutes pass until the pool is empty. Some people gather their kids and leave while others stand by the pool wondering what’s happening and waiting to see