Beauty Queens

The snake. It seesawed its way toward her in an ungainly, almost blind fashion, tongue lashing wildly, mouth pulled back slightly to reveal double rows of grungy, bladelike teeth and puffy, bleeding gums. This was how she was going to die? After the years of crushing poverty, the dismissal by her teachers and schoolmates, the way that most people looked through girls like Jennifer as if they were too inconsequential to acknowledge with a glance? She was going to go down as kibble for some giant snake alcoholic? This was utter bullshit15.

“What Would Wonder Woman Do?” she said, like a prayer.

And then, as if in answer, Jennifer raced for the spear, which had been thrown free when the girl was swallowed. But the snake’s undulating tail knocked it just out of reach.

“You scaly bitch16!” Jen gasped.

The snake lunged. With a loud screech, Jennifer leapt up and grabbed hold of a tree limb, hoping that it was, in fact, a tree limb, and not some other freaky form of island life intent on eating her. Inside the snake’s throat, the girl pushed with her hands and feet, forming a blockade with her body. She wasn’t going down easy, and it gave Jen new courage.

A quick drop to the ground and she snatched the spear in her right hand. With a loud “GAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!” she hopped onto the snake’s back and jabbed the sharp end into the creature’s head. It thrashed wildly and Jennifer was thrown clear. Now it was truly pissed. But it wasn’t from Jen’s assault. From inside the snake, the swallowed girl had managed to crawl up. She positioned what looked like a smallish white tub between the snake’s back teeth. It allowed just enough room for her to slide out on a tide of heavy saliva. Without thinking, Jennifer pulled the girl to safety behind a fat, broken tree.

The snake bit down on the large jar between its teeth and exploded. The girls were coated in snake insides.

“Yes!” Jennifer screamed. She pumped her fist. “How ya like me now, Snake Parts?”

Beside her, the rescued girl coughed and hacked. Her eyes widened as she hacked up a mouthful of slime on Jennifer’s shoulder.

“Ew.”

“Sorry,” the girl said in a voice that sounded slightly broken and a little loud. “I was choking. I’m Sosie Simmons. Miss Illinois.”

“Jennifer Huberman, Miss Michigan. Oh my God. I thought that you were a total goner, man. But you were all, ‘Feel my fists of fury, Amphibian Bitch,’ and I was all, ‘Let’s settle this, X-Men-style,’ and you were all, ‘Aaaaaaahhhhhh jar action!’ and I was all, ‘Kayaaaaaaaa spear time!’ and, oh my God, that was flippin’ amazing. Wasn’t that amazing? I haven’t felt so good since I punched Dennis Anastasias during sixth grade recess when he called me thunder thighs ’cause, I’m sorry, that little punk had it coming.” Laughing maniacally, Jennifer combed her hands through her snake-slimed, muddy hair and looked up at the doily of sky far above, and even though she had just nearly met her demise with a gigantic snake on a deserted island far from home, somehow this moment was glorious.

Sosie stared at Jennifer’s mouth, trying hard to make out the words that rushed over her lips in a formless torrent. “Um, sorry. I didn’t get that. I lost my hearing aid inside that thing. I’m hearing impaired.”

Jennifer was forced to really look at Sosie. What she saw was a face with large, green eyes and a light dusting of freckles across a small nose. And for a moment, she was more undone by this girl’s beauty than by the carnivorous snake.

“Oh. Sorry,” she said slowly.

Sosie smiled. “That’s okay. Even though I have a disability, it doesn’t stop me from realizing my aspiration of representing my country as Miss Teen Dream.”

“No. Of course —”

Sosie placed a hand over the left side of her chest. “They said that because I could not hear the music, I would not be able to dance, but I refused to be limited. I chose to listen to the music of my soul. With the help of my teachers, I organized a dance troupe of non-hearing kids called Helen Keller-bration! And we travel America, showing that nothing can stop you if you don’t stop believing.”

Jennifer looked around. “Who are you talking to?”

Sosie squinted at Jen’s mouth. “Oh! My handler said you should act like the cameras are on you at all times and always be at your best.”

“There are no cameras. The crew, the handlers, they’re all dead.”

“What?”

Jennifer mimed a finger across her throat.

“Oh. oh!”

Slowly, with great care, Jennifer explained about the storm, how she lost the others, that she didn’t know if they had survived.