A.M. Reverie

Written by Sailor Coruscant

Sesame woke up with her stomach clenched like a fist. Something was wrong: maybe she'd left the door unlocked, or she'd forgotten to clean her teeth, or she'd forgotten to fill her water glass before falling asleep last night... She clutched her blanked and stayed perfectly still, not even breathing, while her black eyes darted around her bedroom to find the source of her anxiety.

After a moment, her memories of late last night began to return, and she slowly turned her head to the right. Oh yes, it had actually happened. The lanky older guy sleeping silently beside her with his mouth wide open, wearing her robe, was indisputable evidence.

For further proof, Sesame lifted up her blanket and looked down at her "pajamas" -- a crisp white sailor dress with navy trim, and a pair of tall white boots. She slipped out of bed and went into her bathroom, taking her hand mirror with her, along with a simple red dress from her closet. I don't want to wear this anymore, she thought, looking down at her sailor outfit.

Before she could decide how to begin taking it off, she found herself with bare feet, wearing the old robe she'd had on the night before. She shuddered. In her hand mirror, she discovered the sailor cap still on her head. She took the end of the blue ribbon between two of her fingers and pulled the hat off her head, then dropped it onto the counter. Evil or not, it was still strange. She made a plan to soak it in holy Sybose water as soon as Andrei left her alone for a few minutes. But first, her hair was a wavy mess. She couldn't believe she'd let anyone see her that way.

After quickly smoothing her waves out of existence with a heated comb and a slippery glob of hair balm, Sesame completed her morning routine mechanically, but with an unusual sense of urgency to get out of the house.

"Good morning beautiful!" Andrei said brightly when Sesame emerged from the bathroom. "How's your first morning as Miss Sailor Coruscant?"

Sesame met his eyes as she crossed through her bedroom out into the main part of the apartment, but said nothing. Andrei snorted. Sesame took her bag off the hook next to the door, halfheartedly tapped Fontan's bell twice, and left. Alarm bells were going off in one part of her brain as she hurried down the corridor away from her apartment. She hadn't intended to be rude to Andrei. She simply hadn't felt compelled to speak. Despite the alarm bells in one part, another part of her mind felt satisfied. There was a peace that came with allowing herself the freedom of not speaking. It had been a long time since she'd truly found herself with nothing to say, not even "good morning," but it wasn't the first time.

"Good morning, Miss. Which card will it be today? I'm not one to play favorites, but people have been telling me all morning that The Everyday is full of fluffy Southside propaganda."

Sesame smiled and pressed a button on the vendor droid's keypad to make her selection, then exchanged a large coin for a holonews card. "Excellent choice. Thank you," the droid said when Sesame waved for it to keep the change.

But why should I talk to a droid? Sesame thought as she entered her usual energy drink bar. The alarm bells in her head got a little louder.

The girl behind the counter smiled. Maye, according to her name badge. She was an academy student, made obvious by the fact that she always wore her academy uniform to work. Sesame wasn't sure what her main course of study was, but since the term started she'd been shyly trying a few basic Mirali words when Sesame came in each morning. Straight Basic being Maye's native language, Sesame thought she spoke Mirali with the most adorable accent ever. A non-native Mirali speaker was a rare thing, as nearly all Mirali were fluent in Basic. Probably just some linguistic curiosity, Sesame thought. Or, if she was going into business or diplomacy, the flattery of knowing someone's native tongue was a useful tool.

"The usual?" Maye asked. "Neisi?" she repeated in Mirali. Sesame nodded and slid her credits across the counter. "You look a little sleepy today," Maye said as she topped Sesame's drink with a slice of sour pink fruit and arranged her straw. Sesame shrugged.

Seated at the bar, she activated the holonews card and started skimming The Galactic headlines, as she did every morning. A teagirl had to stay informed. But today, she couldn't concentrate on the news, so she closed her eyes and concentrated on sipping her drink. As she drained the cup, she fist in her stomach began to loosen. Her breathing got deeper, and she felt like she had lost some ability to reason, but it was now returning.

She opened her eyes and stared at the news again. No, she thought firmly, staring straight through the anchorwoman interviewing a senator from some outer rim planet. With the senator's economic development plan as soft background noise, she thought about her job at the tea room; she thought about that strange new Sailor responsibility (or so she suspected it was; Andrei had been extremely vague about the details); she thought about her brother Terik, who was somewhat unhealthily attached to Sesame and would be most offended if she stopped talking to him. And she thought about her mother. When she was thirteen years old, Sesame didn't speak for over six months. That year, her mother had perfected the art of dramatic lamentations. Sesame pictured the way Momma would wail and tear at her necklaces until the string broke and thousands of tiny pearls poured onto the kitchen floor, rolling under the furniture and turning up for the next ten years. She nearly giggled. With all of her mother's temper-tantrums, treasure hunters would have a field day in their house.

Karo Cassise sighed as she and her family walked away from the green courtyard tucked between two apartment buildings. "What a wonderful wedding, wasn't it, darling?"

"Wonderful," her husband agreed, staring trance-like at a potted tree outside a building's main entrance. He always had an absentminded look about him, and everything he said sounded wistful or meditative.

Karo caught the hand of her nearest daughter. "Sesame, your cousin's bride was so beautiful, wasn't she?" Her eyes twinkled. "You know, you're going to be thirteen next month. Have you thought about it?"

"Where does the time go?" Sesame's father said in a wisp of a voice.

"Would you like to get married?" Karo asked.

"Yes, I guess I would," Sesame said. All but one of her older siblings had gotten married at age fourteen, according to Mirali custom. It was growing more common among the Coruscant Mirali not to get married in the traditional way, but those who didn't were still in the minority.

Karo smiled at her husband. "Is there a boy in your year that you like, Sesame? Your father and I find out if the match can be made. We promise we won't embarrass you."

Sesame turned red. "No, no, no. Momma, I don't like anyone in my class." She shook her head. "Not at all! Maybe I don't want to get married anyway."

Karo put her arm around her daughter. "There are other Mirali kids your age on Coruscant. Or..."

Sesame got the same idea at the same moment. "Cousin Canyei's bride wasn't from Coruscant, was she?"

"She was from the Old World," Karo said. She let Sesame go and fiercely grabbed her husband by the arm. "Oh, Syne, we could find Sesame a groom back home. Did you hear, she wants to marry a boy from Garos! He might not be sophisticated, but won't he have such strong, homeworld values? I think it's wonderful. And we could all fly back for the wedding! Oh darling, it's been too many years! The little ones have never even seen the homeworld. And all our old friends! Oh Syne, the Gibinis have a son Sesame's age! And," Karo put her fist to her forehead as she thought, "the Riosses? Didn't they have a boy around then? And we'll have to look up Kan and Iuite Hrubla. Their whole clan was constantly having children..."

"Doctor, you must help my little daughter! She's having a mental problem or something," Karo Cassise called from the lobby of the office into Dr. Jae's office. The receptionist she was ignoring cleared her throat loudly.

"Madam, won't you please have a seat," said another receptionist, an android with feminine features. Unlike her co-worker, she was not programmed to take offense.

"Dr. Jae, please see her today!" Karo yelled desperately over the receptionist desk. "We don't have much time left!"

Sesame ventured to look at the others sitting in the waiting room. They were all staring at her mother. Out of the two of them, Sesame was not the one who looked like she needed to see a psychiatric doctor. At fourteen years old, her hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, her blouse was pressed, and her skirt was hemmed just below the knees. Her socks were cuffed evenly above her tiny, shiny, scuff-free shoes.

Karo's hair was dyed a fashionable black, but it was tangled and teased and hung in unbound waves. Her eyeliner was streaked; she'd left her coat unbuttoned and her scarf crooked. Around her neck were two cords of pearls, and one broken string where a few stray beads hung on for dear life. Some understood, but many did not -- although Karo didn't realize that. She was intentionally unkempt, a public display of the grief her daughter was causing her.

"Mrs. Cassise, please, sit down, both of you," Dr. Jae said when they'd finally gained admittance to his office. It was furnished like a ski lodge, with a round fireplace glowing in the center of the room. Sesame sunk into a plaid couch. "What is so urgent?" he asked, glancing at Karo, then at Sesame, looking either puzzled or concerned.

"She's become a mute!" Karo said, and began sobbing. There were tissues placed conveniently on the end table, but Karo used her scarf instead. "She hasn't said a word in over eight weeks. Her father and I are at a loss. We don't know what we've done wrong!" She looked at her daughter. "Why won't you speak to us, Sesame Etta? Does it bring you joy to see me this way?"

"Karo, that's enough," Dr. Jae said. "Sesame, is this true?"

"She's not going to answer you," Karo said, as Sesame nodded a yes. "Oh, why can't you just say it? What's the difference?" She looked at the doctor. "We've already been to the physician. There's nothing actually wrong."

"Nothing physical, you mean," Dr. Jae said. "It's all right, Sesame. You don't have to speak. Nodding is fine now. Would it be all right if I spoke with each of you alone?"

After speaking with Karo for a few minutes, Dr. Jae escorted Sesame back to the plaid couch. He settled into an arm chair part way around the fireplace, with a datapad balanced on one knee. "Two months, your mother said. Is that about right?"

Sesame nodded.

"Do you know why you stopped speaking? You do? Was there a significant event about eight weeks ago? Not really, huh. Kind of? No again?"

Dr. Jae paused. "Your mother also tells me you're getting married in a few months. Fourteen's a little young, isn't it?"

Sesame shrugged and stared at the fire.

"Are you nervous?"

Sesame continued staring at the fire.

"Have you met your husband-to-be?"

Sesame shook her head.

"Your mother is afraid your silence will interfere with the wedding proceedings." He paused. "Is that what you're trying for?"

Sesame rolled her eyes. Dr. Jae laughed quietly. "Are you asked that often?"

Sesame smiled slightly and cast a glare at the door behind which her mother was waiting.

Dr. Jae got up and walked to a cabinet against the wall, sliding open a deep drawer. He came back to Sesame with a small black notebook and a long silver pen. "I don't have much time today, as I have several patients waiting for their appointments, but your mother has agreed to bring you back to see me on Friday. Are you willing to do that?"

Sesame shrugged and nodded slightly.

"These are for you," Dr. Jae said, handing her the pen and notebook. Sesame shook her head violently and tried to give them back. "Take them, please," the doctor said. "I want you to try and write some of your thoughts this week. Many people find expressing themselves with physical ink on physical paper to be more therapeutic than simply writing your journal on a datapad. You don't have to show me what you write," he said as Sesame continued shaking her head and trying to give him back the notebook. "I just want you to give it a try. Even if you don't think you'll use it, take it with you. Just in case."

Sesame finally stopped protesting, letting her shoulders drop with a sigh as she stared at the notebook in her lap.

"You do know handwriting, right?" Dr. Jae asked, having a new thought. "Young people don't really learn it anymore, do they?"

Sesame shook her head and waved the comment off. She went to Mirali school, where they learned handwriting in both languages, so she knew how to draw all her letters. But that didn't mean she enjoyed it. Usually she liked schoolwork, but handwriting was the absolute worst. In fact, she would rather the doctor order her to pull all her teeth this week, so long as she didn't have to mark up sharp, filmy paper with a long, awkward pen.

After a few more months had passed, Karo stopped bringing Sesame to Dr. Jae's. "It's not working," she told her husband in the kitchen one evening as she ground seeds to a spicy paste. Several of her children, including Sesame, were playing a game at the table. "The mental doctor is not helping her very much."

"I thought he said she was making progress?" her husband, Syne, whispered.

"She's not talking is she?" Karo snapped. "I've been to every religious place in this sector. Nobody's god is hearing my prayers," she said, a heavy tremolo in her voice. "None of the doctors can do anything. Her teachers are at a loss. I don't think she's ever going to talk again!

With that proclamation, Karo stormed out of the kitchen. Syne and the children all turned to stare at Sesame.

From that evening on, Karo completely ignored Sesame's silence. She ceased her visits to religious places and her dramatic calls to doctors. She threw less jewelry-tearing fits, stopped dressing in mourning clothes, and carried on with the wedding plans like nothing was out of the ordinary. She spoke to Sesame in the same way she spoke to the family cat: amicably, but with no expectation of response or interest in her opinion. Sesame was surprised, but relieved. If Karo intended it as a form of reverse psychology, it didn't work; but it did provide for a more peaceful household.

On the chartered starship to Garos IV, the older Cassise children talked in hushed tones. "They're actually going through with it." "How does a mute participate in a wedding ceremony?" "What's the boy going to think when his bride won't talk to him?" "I bet Momma and Dad haven't told the boy's family about this. What if they change their minds when they find out?"

Karo had been chewing on these questions for months. She and Syne had made a very good match for Sesame: the son of their wonderful old friends, Maio and Mahalla Sinesis. She wasn't about to let that go down the drain just because the girl was giving the world the silent treatment. If she didn't like the match (although Karo couldn't imagine what there was not to like), she should have said something when they told her about it six months ago. It was too late now.

So Karo put on her best performance ever, and when the wedding day came, she was confident that Maio and Mahalla Sinesis didn't even realize that they'd never heard their daughter-in-law's voice. She'd never left Sesame's side, and she herself answered every question that required more than a nod. Luckily brides are expected to be shy; that made it much easier to pull off.

The day after the wedding, the Cassises returned to Coruscant. There were businesses to run, schoolwork to do, and social events to attend. They'd been home exactly one week when Karo walked into her kitchen early one morning and found Sesame on her hands and knees, scrubbing the finish off the tile.

"What the hell are you doing, Sesame? It's seven in the morning," Karo said, and walked around her to draw a pot of hot water.

"It's filthy," Sesame said. "Momma, have you mopped even once since I was born?"

"I hire a droid!" Karo said shrilly. She put down her pot and turned around to look at her daughter. She wiped the sleep out of her eyes. A little blonde teenager crouched on the floor, barely bigger than the bucket in which she was dipping her sponge: it was Sesame. "You're talking," she said.

"I guess."

"Why now?"

Sesame didn't stop scrubbing. "I don't know."

Seven years later, Sesame sighed and turned off the holonews card. Clenching her bag with white knuckles, she tried to take a few deep breaths, but instead nearly hyperventilated. "Maye!" she finally blurted.

Her breathing slowed, and her grip relaxed. She felt the blood return to her fingertips. The warning bell in her brain quieted, and the self-satisfied peace dispersed.

"Ala ala, a'Sesame?" Maye answered in Mirali. Sesame clenched her bag again, but this time because Maye's accent was so cute it made her want to leap over the bar and squeeze the life out of her.

"Um, could you please bring me one of those grain pastries when you have a chance?" Ordering breakfast was not her custom -- and thus difficult for Sesame to do -- but she knew she had to say something to someone, soon. Maye smiled and bounced away to get it, and Sesame reopened the holonews. Pleased with herself for winning this small battle, she allowed herself a small grin, then set about reading the headlines.

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