The Scream

“Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say.”

“Or so they say. Ha!” Cari (pronounced like “car-eye”) snickered, keeping her voice relatively low. “And just who are they?”

It was Nathaniel’s turn to snicker, “Scientists.” He felt like adding a “duh” but that would be too much. He leaned back into the chair to gaze upward, toward the stars. He felt pretty good about this bit of knowledge, a smile settling on his face – though steely as he waited for Cari to respond.

But Cari didn’t respond. She kept twitching, looking to her side like someone was watching her. Always nervous-like.

“Imagine that, screaming in outer space and no one being able to hear it to help you.” Nathaniel reiterated, taking a different angle to elicit a response.

Cari shook her head, “What does that even mean: Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space?” Her fingers traced the outline of the inner part of her lounge chair, “And who cares?”

“Who cares?! Look up there.” He nodded toward the stars sparkling in the black diamond night sky. “Imagine one day we are in space. I mean, isn’t that why we are doing this?”

Cari snickered again, followed by a chuckle, “Sure, it’s why we are doing this––so we can be in outer space one day.” Then she abruptly pushed back her chair and stood up.

“Ok, ok.” Nathaniel threw up his hands in retreat. “Where you going?”

“Nowhere. Just thought I saw something over there. I want to make sure they know where we are.” She pointed toward the bushes.

“They’ll find us when they find us.”

Cari paid no attention to him as she walked deliberately, slowly toward the bushes.

It was mid-August. The night sky was slightly heavy with a storm brewing quite a distance away, but from where they were, the night sky was still clear. A cool breeze blew from time to time, easing the heat. Cari rubbed the back of her neck as she looked around, almost sniffing the air like a dog. She could smell the honeysuckle in the bushes, could practically taste it on her tongue, feel it on her skin. It was sweet and thick like the air.

“Come on. They aren’t here yet.”

Cari shrugged, agreeing. She turned and looked Nathaniel in the eye, “No screams heard in the vacuum of space? Ha!”

She sat down in the chair beside him, feeling a little relieved, a little annoyed, and sighed, “So, how do we know we can’t hear screams in the vacuum of space?” Leaning forward, she intentionally said it as though she was really going to use the information to scheme.

“Well,” he scooted his chair closer to hers, “sound needs matter, and there’s no matter in space for sound to travel…” Tada! And just like that, he was the smartest man in the room. He tapped his fingers on the side of his chair, making a slightly tinny, rhythmic noise.

Still smiling. Still feeling good about himself. “It’s science. You should read more. If you did, you’d know that we are going to be living out there,” He swung his arm wide towards the sky and then settled it down on the back of Cari’s chair.

Cari straightened her back, “Mmm. Right.”

“Seriously,” He brushed her hair away from her face and, at a whisper, said, “But that’s what I’m here for. I’ll keep you informed of everything you need to know. So, when we meet them, we know how to handle it.”

By them, Nathaniel was referring to extraterrestrials. They joined this local CE5 group recently. CE5: Contact with Extraterrestrials of the Fifth Kind, meaning human-initiated contact. It was Cari’s idea. When she had lived in Tucson, she was taking a walk one hot summer day when she saw these silver, oval things in the sky. They weren’t drones. They weren’t airplanes. They shot up and down, made a triangle, then shot up again and were gone. Just like that.

They were definitely UFOs. She went home excited, but no one cared, that is, except for Nathaniel. When she told him the story, he believed it. And then almost immediately, they were dating. And that was their story. However small it was.

Nathaniel lowered his hand onto Cari’s shoulder. She flinched.

“You ok?”

“Yep.” Cari hesitated, “That still doesn’t explain why it matters whether or not you can hear a scream in the vacuum of space. I mean, why not say you can’t hear a laugh in the vacuum of space?”

Nathaniel took his hand from Cari’s shoulder and slouched back into his chair, “Well, it doesn’t matter. It was just interesting, that’s all.”

Then silence fell upon them, and the sky grew larger, like gravity pulling the darkness closer. The moon was just a sliver––barely, but still there. Cari could sympathize.

“Ok,” she felt the need to break the silence, “What happens if you are in an astronaut suit and scream in outer space while floating around or moonwalking or whatnot? Do you think you can hear your own scream––or laugh––within the helmet of your suit? … I mean, there’s matter, right? In the suit, right? How would that work?”

Nathaniel perked up, his forefinger on his upper lip. His eyes moved back and forth like he was literally rummaging his brain for an answer.

“You think this’ll be the night?” He shrugged, changed the topic, and nodded toward the stars.

Silence fell upon them again. Simultaneously, they both leaned back into their chairs and tilted their heads up.

“Did we bring everything?” She leaned over the chair to check… night vision goggles, speaker, red light… snacks...

“Oh, what’s that?” Nathaniel cupped his eyes as though that would help him see better.

In these Tennessee hills, it was hard to make out the images at first. Shadows intertwined with the dancing tree limbs. The little bit of light presented no relief to the darkness.

One.

Two.

Three.

Cari counted each emerging shadow in her head as they materialized from the woods into the clearing.

“It’s them, it must be them,” Cari said. She got up. Suddenly excited.

Nathaniel sat back hard in the chair. “Here, we go.”

“What was that?”

Nathaniel didn’t respond, and Cari didn’t wait for an answer, she was already walking toward them. As they got closer, Cari could see the first was Todd. She had met Todd at a previous CE5 group meetup. Another girl and guy whom Cari hadn’t met yet were trailing Todd.

“Hi!” Todd said, waving, “Sorry we’re a bit late.”

“It’s ok.”

“This is Jessica and Matt.”

They greeted each other one by one. “Are you new to this?” Cari asked.

“Second one.” They said in unison, “Jinx, owe me a Coke.” They both said again, in unison. Everyone laughed, kind of.

They joined Nathaniel and quickly, methodically spread out their foldup chairs into an inward half-circle––just as protocol suggests. The wind was picking up a bit. Some clouds were emerging in the distance. But the stars still shone brightly.

“Well, it’s still a good night for this.” Todd’s gaze moved to the gray clouds building in the distance and then back to Cari, before opening his backpack to retrieve his goggles.

“It’s always a good night for this, right? I mean, rain or shine, they’ll come.” Nathaniel quipped, “Though we’ve never experienced anything yet.”

“Well…” Todd shrugged it off and sat down. “Well, maybe you are right. So, let’s get started. Maybe tonight’s the night.”

And with that, Nathaniel scrunched up his face and puckered his lips as if to say to Cari: Isn’t that what I already said, tonight will be the night?

Todd turned on his phone, not noticing Nathaniel, and opened the meditation app. A bell run out and a man’s calm, deep voice said: Good evening.

“I don’t know why we have to listen to these things. I mean, we can just meditate in silence.”

Todd paused the app.

“Nate.” Cari hushed him, “This is what we do. It’s protocol.”

Silence. Awkward and loud. The space accumulated between them.

“Are we all good?” Todd’s finger hovered over the play icon.

“Sure.”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel shot a glance at Cari. She responded before him; he noted that.

The sounds of bells played out in the speaker. Everyone simultaneously put on their night goggles and leaned back. The stars were still glistening.

“Hey, don’t confuse the North Star with an alien.” Nathaniel laughed.

“Nate. Please.”

Todd paused the meditation. “Right, of course. Thanks. … Ready?”

Bells rang out again, and for a short period, all seemed to be going as planned.

Through their goggles, the night sky was crimson purple. The bells played in their heads and their minds focused on the world. The sky was large and loomed heavily while the treetops below swayed lightly. The bells came and went, louder and softer, cyclical. It was more like hypnosis than meditation. A cooler breeze circled around them, and the sky darkened. Cari searched hard across the landscape, looking for anything, some flicker of light, even a tingle on her skin. But there was nothing.

Except for Nathaniel’s snore. Cari poked him, and he jumped out of his seat. Nathaniel’s startled look made Cari suddenly feel sorrow for him. They had been doing so well, but whatever she did, it just wasn’t enough for him. She really thought this CE5 group might make a difference. It got them out, socializing. Plus, it was kind of symbolic of their relationship, how they started out. But it was more like confirming the end of it.

Cari sighed heavily, “Nate, we are done.”

“Done?”

Everyone slipped off their goggles.

“But we just got here a little bit ago,” Matt said. “It’s fine if he wants to sleep, we can do it.”

Cari moved her gaze from Nathaniel to Matt, “Sure.” Her courage faded just as quickly as it came.

But Nathaniel wasn’t finished. “If we are done; we are done.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“Come on, Nate. Don’t be like this.”

“Is there someone else?”

“Oh my god. … Let’s go.” Cari jumped up.

“Is there?”

“I’m not doing this here.”

“My god, there is. Is it Todd?” He sharpened his eye on Todd. “Is that why you wanted to do this?”

“My god, no.” She turned to Todd, “Sorry.” And she threw her arms out in desperation before starting to pack up her things.

Nathaniel joined in, throwing his goggles in his backpack. With hand on his hips, he just stopped and stared at the ground. All eyes were on him. The air thickened as they waited. Matter all around them. If someone screamed, you would hear it.

But for the screams inside your head. Cari was screaming, and no one heard her. She was screaming at Nathaniel, she was screaming at herself, and she was screaming at Todd for not saying anything. I

Suddenly, Nathaniel kicked the chair, and it went flying across the grass and rolled. All eyes were on the chair. All eyes moved with the chair as it rolled and came to a slow halt. All eyes saw the flicker of light. All eyes watched the flicker grow brighter and clearer. An oval shape emerging then disappearing, then emerging again only to hover above the treetops about a mile in front of them.

Todd immediately got out his laser and pointed it toward the unidentified flying object. Everyone slowly stood up and began moving toward the direction of Nathaniel’s chair. They couldn’t blink. Blinking risked missing out of this moment. They all swallowed hard. A bead of sweat trickled down Cari’s forehead, stinging her eye.

Nathaniel, without looking or thinking, grabbed Cari’s hand. In that moment, she knew. The oxygen was sucked out, she couldn’t breathe. But she could scream. She opened her mouth, wide. She screamed, but the noise wouldn’t come. She screamed, but the air wouldn’t move her.

Cari looked at Nathaniel. His face glowed as he squeezed her hands, not taking his eyes off the UFO. This was it. This was it. And yet, as the space moved in between them, space devoid of anything that mattered, a vacuum––if you will––of space, she couldn’t run, hide, or laugh. All she could do was scream but no one could hear her. No one. This was not the New World she wanted.

She let go of his hand.

It was in the moment of nothingness, emptiness when she realized why you can’t hear someone scream in a vacuum of space. It’s because the things that matter are no longer there, but out there -- in the New World you make for yourself.