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I have no mouth and I must scream.
That was the title of a masterpiece of fiction written by one of my favorite authors, Harlan Ellison. I thought I had an idea what the title meant after I first read the story at age thirteen. Four years later I was well-acquainted with every nuance of those eight words. Time for a crash course in geography. Brace yourself. Mississippi is in the middle of what is known as �the Bible Belt.� It�s flush up against Alabama on one side and Lousiana and Arkansas on the other. Tennessee sits on top of it and underneath is the Gulf of Mexico. I grew up in Meridian, a sleepy little town smack dab in the middle. Momma was a housewife, Daddy was a plumber who drove an ambulance when he got restless. My sister Noemi was a beauty queen and Momma spent all her free time and a substantial part of Daddy�s paycheck grooming her for pageants, like she was some goddamn Persian purebred. The only thing that I had in common with my sister was our figures. Almost identical, down to one breast being slightly larger than the other and the bunions on our right big toes. I could wear her clothes, but I�d look like death warmed over in those pastels. Ditto for her and my �funeral� color scheme. Listen, I can�t help it if I look good in black! You see, she was the pretty one. �So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows� said Shakespeare and damn if he wasn�t talking about Noemi. All of us had dark hair and eyes but her. The eyes were blue-green, just like Grandpa�s collection of New Mexico turquoise. The hair was naturally golden blonde, courtesy of a little help from the bottle. The skin was magnolia white, courtesy of Oil of Olay and Hawaiian Tropic SPF 45. Momma didn�t care too much for skin cancer, or its precursor, suntanning. My sister always won big at those pageants. She had a voice that caused goosebumps and that star quality the judges were always looking for. Momma even wanted Noemi to legally change her name to �Star�, but Daddy told her if she did, they wouldn�t get another cent towards the costumes. One of the first things Momma taught me was to sew. And sew I did. Sequins, ruffles, beading, seams, flounces, you name it and I stitched it. Noemi�s pageant costumes were mostly secondhand, but you wouldn�t know if from the care and time Momma and I put into them. She�d strut across that stage with absolute confidence in a castoff reject from the thrift store that Momma and I fixed up real nice the night before. She was Momma�s favorite, but I was Daddy�s girl. Daddy was a good man. Quiet, strong, maybe a little gruff, and a baseball fanatic. God forbid the fridge be empty of Molson when the game was on, let me tell you. And many�s the time I was sent to the liquor store for a six pack. Kind of scary that they let a ten year-old buy beer, but because the good ole boys knew that it was for my daddy, it wasn�t a big deal. �Your sister may be pretty, but you�re smart,� Daddy would tell me during the half-time show when I opened a bottle of pop, and he, a longneck. �And brains go a lot farther in this world than looks. Don�t ever forget that, sweet pea.� Thanks, Daddy. I know you meant well. You married Momma �cause she was the New Orleans Junior Teen Princess, and you�ve regretted it ever since because in your estimation she has �less brains than a woodpecker on an aluminum telephone pole�. Wish I could have been born a boy, though. Would have saved me a lot of suffering. It was impossible to hate Noemi, and the easiest thing in the world to love her. She was born smiling, full of sunshine and laughter. She never had an unkind word for anyone and always made the best of things. Life was grand for her. She dated the captain of the baseball team (Daddy was pretty damn proud of that) and made decent grades in school. She was popular, but kind, a true Christian who spent her time practicing instead of preaching. She had all the trappings: gold cross around her neck, modest clothing (cover those knees and everything above the collarbone around the boys, Noemi) except during the pageants, and the Good Book in her bookbag, on her nightstand and in the glove compartment of her car next to the Mahalia Jackson tapes. Never met another person like her who took so much joy from singing praises to her Savior and Lord. He was the reason she went to church at dawn every Sunday and stayed to sing in the choir for the ten o�clock service. Strangest thing was that she had such a powerful and rich alto voice that a lot of people thought she was black before they looked up into the choir and saw her belting out �O Holy Night� at the Christmas Vigil Mass. Funniest sight I ever saw in church was the lookon the congregation�s faces when she hit the high notes and made the rafters ring. Are you sick of how perfect she was? Well, here�s the last of it: she volunteered at the old folks home, participated in the Bible study on Wednesday nights and had never even gone to second base with her boyfriend. I could have hated her, but being the perverse creature that I am, I loved her beyond reason. You see, she was not just my sister, she was my twin. Fraternal, of course. And secretly, I happened to agree with Daddy about the brains being the better part of the bargain.
Prom was a big deal in Meridian. Everyone got dressed up and the girls sweated the night away in pantyhose while the boys tugged at their collars. We won the last game of he year by three runs and our pitcher, Billy Joe Henley, a cinch for Prom King, was carried on the shoulders of his teammates and doused with grape Gatorade during the riot that ensued. Noemi was in the running for Prom Queen and because she begged me to come, I agreed to be set up on a date with one of the outfielders, David Corey. It was a mercy date, but I�m sure David expected that he could at least weasel a slow dance out of Noemi for doing her a favor. Besides, he was Billy Joe�s best friend and you just didn�t say no to Billy Joe. Noemi told Momma that I was going to be beautiful that night and she and Momma went to work on me. My hair was curled, my face painted, and I was stuffed into this incredible pearly brocade strapless thing that made the most of my modest cleavage. My mother gave me a gorgeous pair of gloves to go with the dress. They were white satin and made my arms look elegant and tempting at the same time. �You are so gorgeous,� Noemi gushed as she smoothed blush across my cheekbones. �David�s jaw is gonna hit the floor when he sees you.� She wore a floaty ruby dress that came from the same department store � luxury! � as mine. There were rhinestones in her ears and at her wrist. Momma had arranged her hair to accommodate the tiara, which would be the latest in her long line of headgear/trophies that Noemi had been collecting since she was crowned Mississippi Little Miss at the age of three. Our dates arrived right on time. David was very cute and very uncomfortable in his tux. Billy Joe, handsome as sin, looked like he was born to wear one. He was gorgeous in that all-American-boy way, dark blond hair and blue eyes offset by a deep golden tan. Obviously, his momma did not believe in sunblock. Seeing Noemi and Billy Joe together, well it was as close to a religious experience as I�ve ever had. They looked so beautiful it made me sigh. He wore a red rose that matched her dress. I had a white rose for David. I managed to pin it place with the gloves still on, a feat that I am still proud of today. Momma took pictures of us together. Snow White and Rose Red, the fairytale flashed through my mind, as she snapped away.
I remember very little about that night. I remember that Noemi got the crown and I cheered for her. I remember that I was trying desperately to not make a fool of myself. David danced with me once or twice and I took a spin around the room with some of the guys from the band and the drama club. I�d played the cello and the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet, so I had acquaintances who were willing to take pity on me. �So you�re really gonna fuck the Ice Queen tonight?� I almost choked on my punch as I heard those words whispered from one jock to another. The answer was unintelligible, but I knew the voice wasn�t David�s. That�s all that mattered to me then. The theme song came on and David and I slow danced. I think it was �I Will Remember You� by Sarah MacLachlan.
I remembered David and I standing in the parking lot at the end of the night. He was looking deeply into my eyes and holding my satin-gloved hands in his. �You�re not like the other girls,� he was saying to me as he touched my face. God help me, in that moment I was glad I was. I wished he was the kind of boy every girl dreams of � white knight on a white horse, honorable and true. Maybe he would be. He took me home and kissed me goodnight on the cheek. I knew better than to wait up for Noemi. She would be partying until dawn.
I remember that I slept better that night than I had in a long time. Finals were over and there were no SATs to study for. I had applied early decision to Bryn Mawr College and I would be joining the Class of 2004 that fall. Lanterns, Jacobean collegiate Gothic buildings, and the best Shakespeare professor on the continent were in my future. The art history department was nothing to sneeze at either. I had recommendations from my favorite teachers. Three short months and I would say good-bye to Mississippi forever. I had already planned a road trip to Alaska.
I woke up that morning to sunlight and bird song. I showered and made my way to the kitchen to cook myself breakfast. David called around 10:00 A.M. and asked if he could come over. I thought it was kind of odd, but I didn�t question it. Momma was ecstatic. A boy was interested in her other daughter. How nice! She even left us alone in my room. I showed him my map, tracing the spidery connections of the highway from Meridian to the frozen north. We talked of travel, the future, anything and everything. He moved in to kiss me. My first kiss from David Corey. Good-looking David Corey. My white knight. There is a God. I felt the warmth of his lips seep into mine. Pain�blood everywhere jesus-oh-jesus-somebody-help-me oh god please don�t! please don�t hurt me no no! daddyhelpme MOMMA iwantmymomma no no NO! Pain exploded between my legs. Bruises, abrasions and lacerations erupted on my stomach and breasts. I felt the slippery blood and something thicker and more viscous sliding down the insides of my thighs. I pulled back. I saw David fall away from me. I looked down at my body. It wasn�t real. Oh God what�s happening? I heard someone screaming. It was me. I felt the grit and gravel � no it�s the carpet it�s not real it�s not real not real please let this be a nightmare i�ll wake up someday � dig into the backs of my thighs. The musky scent of sex and the sweet stench of blood were all around and I couldn�t breathe because they were on top of me. When Momma and Daddy rushed into the room I cowered in the corner, sobbing and crying and praying for deliverance. Oh God, there were ten of them. I was begging for them to stop, to leave me alone. One of them held a gun to my head and told me to sing. How can I sing and cry at the same time? Mary Mother of God have mercy on me. One of them had a knife. He cut up my dress. Momma loved that dress momma where are you? Lord Jesus Prince of Peace have mercy on me. They took turns. They laughed at me, jeered at me, spit on me. Pain more pain oh god will it ever stop? Then there was nothing but silence and the cool of the night air on the backs of my legs. Yeah though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death I shall fear no evil for Thou art with me. The tears clogged my throat. I saw nothing but the darkness ahead of me. Wait. There, in the shadows, passed out in a drunken stupor � that�ll be some cleaning bill for your tux, David � was someone who would live to tell. Not a white knight, just a delivery boy. Reach out, message for Marie � is it time to go? One last prayer. Please bless Momma and Daddy and Marie. Especially Marie. Keep her safe from harm. Never let this happen to her. And please forgive them. They know not what they do. Take me home. I�m ready.
Dr. Grey told me that my sister had probably been a mutant, more than likely she had the power of empathy, with a healthy dose of psychometry and clairaudience. In that shadowy hour before dawn, she had somehow managed to imprint some sort of �psychic memory� on David. The theory was that it had activated my own undeveloped mutant gift, a combination of touch-telepathy, empathy and energy absoption. Keep her safe from harm. Never let this happen to her. Have no fear, Noemi. It never will.
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Copyrighted � 2003 Silver Thistle Publishing.