Mississippi Burning

"Lawrence, no," Livie pleaded as she grabbed his arm. "Don't go out there."

Lawrence looked at his daughter. "Cassidy, you do what your Momma tells you to do, ya hear? And no matter what, you just keep running." Cassidy ran from the staircase and hugged her father tight. "Y'all go now," he said stroking her hair. He kissed his wife who had tears streaming down her face. "I'm gonna go have a chat with the Sheriff."

Livie took Cassidy and the baby into the kitchen and waited by the backdoor. "Grab my purse," she whispered to Cassidy, who picked up the bag off of the table and put it around her neck. Then Livie reached into the cabinet above the fridge and pulled down a bottle of whisky. She put a few drops on her finger which she then brought to her baby's mouth, helping to quiet the infant. Her doctor once told her it was an old wives' remedy that did more harm than good, but Livie didn't know what else to do. She had to keep Mason quiet.

Livie had a partial view of what was happening out front. She saw two patrol cars parked in the road. She knew the three white officers standing in her front yard. She sat next to them in church on Sundays. She had had them over for supper many times. What did they want with her husband?

Lawrence opened the front door slowly, brandishing his shotgun. To his surprise, none of the three officers standing below his porch had drawn their pistols, but all three of them were smoking cigarettes; and all three were sweating profusely.

"You gonna shoot your own workmates, Lawrence?" the Sheriff asked lifting his arms up to show he was not reaching for his weapon.

"I'll do what I need to do to protect my family," the father of two replied defiantly.

"Now let's just be calm like," the Sheriff responded in a folksy manner. "No one has to get hurt here. Why don't you invite us in for a glass of tea? It's unusually warm today for January." The Sheriff took a few steps towards the porch, but Lawrence raised his weapon.

"Not a step closer, John," he said like a growling dog ready to bite. "And it's a cool winter's day. Y'all got some sort of fever burning you up."

The Sheriff took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Well, this is a pickle you're puttin' me in here, Lawrence." He took a puff on his cigarette, inhaled deeply, and exhaled through his nose while taking another puff.

Lawrence knew that the Sheriff, a deeply religious man who lived an upright life, neither drank nor smoked; yet here he was, puffing like an addict just below his porch. He watched him throw the cigarette down on the ground and stub it out with his shoe.

"I'm gonna prove that we mean you no harm," the Sheriff said putting his hat back on. He then unbuckled his gun belt and put it on the ground. He looked at the two men behind him and ordered them to do the same. "You and I have worked together for a long time, Lawrence," he said taking a few steps, and the two men behind him followed his lead. "I've always looked at you kinda of as, well...a son." He moved up onto the steps, and Lawrence responded by slowly moving backwards. "I don't know if you're willin' to shoot an unarmed man," the Sheriff continued, walking right up to the barrel of the shotgun which now touched his chest, "...but that's a risk I'm just gonna have to take."

Lawrence put his finger on the trigger, but he couldn't pull it. "I don't want to shoot you, John," he said in anguish as he lowered the shotgun and dropped it on the porch.

"I know you don't," the Sheriff said kindly as he patted Lawrence on the shoulder.

"But I can't let you take my family," he said, raising his fist and hitting the Sheriff squarely on the jaw.

"Get 'im," one of the other officers shouted as both men rushed Lawrence and grabbed him by the arms.

"Run, Livie!" the father yelled as he struggled with the two men. "Run!"

Livie grabbed Cassidy's hand and bolted out the back door like a bat out of hell.

"Now that was uncalled for, Lawrence," the Sheriff said nursing his jaw while the two officers wrestled the man off the porch towards one of the patrol cars, "but I forgive you." He then pulled a single orange tubular bloom out of his pants pocket. "And I have no doubt," he said bringing the flower up to the man's face, "that you're gonna offer me an apology in a few minutes."

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With a now sleeping baby harnessed to her chest, Livie ran with her daughter as fast as she could across the cotton field behind the house, heading for the woods a half-mile away. She made it to the trees before she heard the officers back at the house yelling her name.

"Come on back, Livie," the Sheriff hollered. "Lawrence wants to talk to you."

She looked behind her and saw the officers walking across the field.Don't trust nobody, she remembered her husband telling her. "Come on, Cassidy," she said as she took her daughter by the hand and continued to move as fast as her legs would take them. Suddenly the clasp she had on Cassidy's hand was gone as her daughter tripped over a root and fell flat on the ground.

"You okay, honey?" she cried.

"I'm fine," Cassidy said, realizing that a bed of orange wild flowers had broken her fall.

The smell of jasmine emanating from the tubular blooms was enchanting. She wished that she could just lay there and wait until this nightmare was over.

"Get up, Cassidy," her mother whispered desperately.

"Comin'," the girl said, but then Cassidy felt a fine mist spray her face which smelled and tasted of jasmine. She wiped off the liquid with her hands as she got up, but immediately she felt light-headed and hot, as if she had just finished running the mile in PE class.

"Livie? There's nothing to be afraid of. Come on back now."

The officers were getting closer. Livie grabbed her daughter's hand and realized the girl was on fire. "What happened honey?" the mother asked as she put her hand on her daughter's forehead. "You got a powerful fever."

"I feel okay," Cassidy said blinking her eyes as she tried to get her bearings. "It feels real nice, actually."

"You in here, Livie?" the Sheriff called from the edge of the woods.

"Get down!" the mother ordered Cassidy in a hushed tone.

But Cassidy remained standing. Her lungs were yearning for something that her mother occasionally had let the teenager indulge in. She reached into her mother's purse still around her neck and pulled out a pack of Newport. Within seconds, she had that cork-tipped 100 fired up and was puffing hard.

"What thehell are you doing?" Livie exclaimed in a whisper when she realized that her daughter was lighting a cigarette.

"I just need the smoke, Momma," Cassidy replied desperately as she took another long puff while inhaling and exhaling through her nose. "I need it in my body real bad." The smoke felt so good. She had never been able to puff on her Momma's cigarettes before without coughing up a storm, but now she could inhale that creamy cloud into her lungs with the ease of breathing in air. And then Cassidy suddenly smelled the aroma of jasmine in the breeze blowing from the edge of the woods. The pheromones from the police officers were so strong to her sense of smell now that she could tell exactly where they were; and that's when she winced as she felt a stinging sensation on her shoulder blades.

Livie watched in horror as something began to rise out from the back of her daughter's shirt collar. It was long and slender, and it gradually swayed from side to side as if it were alive. Then all at once, seven more tendrils began slowly rising from behind her neck like thin snakes slithering out of a nest, bobbing up and down in the air above her head. The mother opened her mouth to scream, but in her terror, she could produce no sound.

"Whatsa matter, Momma?" Cassidy asked. She looked up at the coils floating above her and smiled. "Wow. They're so beautiful," she whispered, and she inhaled another puff, watching the tendrils whirl and twirl in response to the stimulation of the nicotine.

The smell of jasmine was much stronger now as she turned her head towards the edge of the woods. "They're almost here," she said with an excited grin.

"Cassidy, no," Livie begged as she reached out to her daughter.

"Over here!" Cassidy yelled. "We're over here!" She then lovingly took her mother by the hands and held them tight. "It's okay, Momma," she said eagerly. "Wewant them to find you."

When the Sheriff emerged from behind a clump of trees, he slowly strolled up behind Cassidy with a smile on his face while puffing on a fresh cigarette between his fingers. "Well, lookie here," he said lustfully gazing up at the thin, black strands floating above Cassidy's head. "Ain't you just the prettiest thing." As he moved closer, tendrils began to emerge from the back of his shirt and glided towards the tips of Cassidy's coils, gently caressing them before wrapping together.

"Mmmm," Cassidy moaned with her eyes closed while still clasping her mother's hands. Such a sensual stimulation she had never before experienced. She could actually feel the smoke entering the Sheriff's lungs, and she let go of her mother's hands so that she could light a fresh Newport and respond with her own deep puff to double the sensation. Something was building inside of her, and she didn't want it to stop. She placed the cigarette in her mouth and held it tightly between her lips, making the orange tip glow non-stop. And with each deep puff the two smokers inhaled into their lungs, their tendrils wrapped together ever more tightly. Cassidy felt weightless as she had the sensation of speeding upwards into the sky towards some joyous peak.

The Sheriff took a massive puff on his cigarette and snapped that dense ball of smoke deep into his chest. "Oh, SINNERS!" the religious man yelled in ecstasy with smoke pouring out of his mouth as he wildly jerked his pelvis back and forth and ejaculated into his pants.

For Cassidy, it was as if the torrent from the Sheriff's dick had directly surged into her vaginal canal, and she felt an explosion of pleasure between her legs that made her gasp for air. "More," she whined as she, too, gyrated her pelvis back and forth while sucking hard on the Newport. "I want more," and the coils between her and the sheriff intertwined into a tight braid, instigating a second orgasm that ripped through her body and caused the Sheriff to again groan in blissful agony.

And then, as the exhilaration ebbed, there was just the pleasant feeling of a constant erotic stimulation brought on by the caressing of their tendrils.

"You're a good girl, Cassidy," the Sheriff said with an immensely satisfied sigh, and then they both took long puffs on their cigarettes.

++++++++++++++++++

Livie and her daughter were taken to the high school and separated. "I'll see you soon, Momma," Cassidy said to comfort her mother, but Livie was not comforted. Not even the kindness of the officer gently holding her by the arm could lessen the fear that engulfed her.

As the officer led her down a hallway where cigarette smoke hung thickly in the air, she heard pleas for help coming from behind classroom doors; pleas which were then quickly followed by silence. Out of one such room came a white mother and her young daughter, both smoking freshly lit 120 cigarettes with a glazed look in their eyes and beads of sweat on their foreheads. It was clear to Livie that they had the same fever Cassidy and the officers was suffering from. In another classroom, she saw Caroline, the daughter of her best friend who owned the only convenience store in town, handing out packs of cigarettes to a long line of people.

The officer took the frightened woman into the cafeteria, the largest room in the school. The lights were considerably dimmed, and the orange tips of hundreds of cigarettes which brightened and faded every few seconds gave a hellish glow to the hall. The smoke was so thick that even Livie, a heavy smoker herself, found it difficult to breathe. "Wait here for a minute, Livie," the officer said kindly. "I need to find out where they want you." She thought about escape, but escape to where? Clearly the whole town - or most of it - had already been infected and somehow...transformed. But where the classrooms she had passed contained pleas for help, this room was filled with the sound of pleasurable moans and whimpers.

Livie watched the white woman and her daughter whom she had just seen in the hallway, come into the cafeteria. They were each holding two packs of Virginia Slims 120s and staring blankly, as if they were waiting for something. An Asian American teenager, whom Livie recognized as Caroline's brother, Curtis, gently guided the child towards a corner of the room sectioned off from the adults where other children were watching cartoons, their tendrils bobbing up and down in the air but not stimulating one another. The white woman, continuing to stare blankly into space, was then guided towards an empty chair across from a young black man. Slowly their tendrils rose out of their shirts into the air above their heads and began to caress one another. The expression of ecstasy on their faces was passionate and visceral. They puffed intently on freshly lit cigarettes, and exhaled cone after cone into the airspace above them, engulfing the coils in a thick fog that made them writhe in rapturous joy. In less than a minute, the interracial couple, staring wildly at each other as smoke poured out of their mouths, were both gasping in orgasmic pleasure. And then their tendrils released as they sat back in their chairs breathing heavily. They stood up, smiled warmly at one another as they hugged for a brief moment, and then moved on separately to look for another partner.

What Livie had witnessed with the interracial couple she now realized was happening throughout the hall with hundreds of people. Some couples were only sharing their tendrils, euphoric in their facial expressions as they exhaled long smoky streams. Others were engaged in more carnal activity. Reverend Luther was having intercourse with the organ player, Mrs. Sawyer, and their tendrils were coiled tightly around their bodies as they both grunted in ecstasy. Some of the teenagers who Livie recognized as from her daughter's senior class had even formed cliques, their tendrils tightly coiled in a massive knot that appeared to send jolts of stimulation into the participants as they puffed deeply on their 100 and 120 cigarettes while masturbating. Everyone was focused on one single goal: pleasurable stimulation. Livie would have found it all incredibly fascinating, even erotic, if she wasn't so terrified about what was going to happen to her next.

"This way," the officer politely said when he came back, and Livie was taken to the high school's nursery for single-mother students and locked into a room with a crib. In the cafeteria, she had felt numb. Now that she was alone, she broke down and began crying hysterically. "Give me back my baby!" she yelled from the empty nursery to anyone who would listen. "Please!" She pounded on the locked door."Please!!!" She then heard the door knob turning and stepped backwards in fear.

"Shhhh," Charlotte said as she walked into the nursery holding Livie's child. "It's okay, Livie, I've got Mason."

"What have you done to him?" the mother cried out running up to Charlotte in an effort to take hold of the baby.

"Now, Livie, you can see that he is the spitting image of health. Ain't nobody here harmed him, nor would anyone dream of doing so. In fact, he's been with Lawrence this whole time."

"Where's Lawrence? And Cassidy? Where's my daughter?"

"They're both waiting for you outside," Charlotte replied kindly.

"Please, Charlotte, let me hold him," Livie begged with tears streaming down her face.

"Now, now, let's just put him in this crib here," she replied as she took a few steps around the table and placed the baby into the bedding, "so that you and I can I have a nice talk, hmm?" They both then sat down at the table.

Charlotte reached into her coat pocket, pulled out a pack of VS-120's, and proceeded to light a cigarette which she then placed in the ashtray at the center of the table. She slid the pack to Livie, knowing that her friend, who visited her store often, was a carton-a-week Newport smoker. Livie accepted the pack and nervously lit a 120, chain smoking puff after puff

"Charlotte," the woman whispered desperately, smoke flowing out of her mouth as she took hold of her companion's arm, "please let us leave. We won't tell nobody what's happened here. Just let me, Cassidy, and my baby go."

"Cassidy doesn't want to leave, Livie," Charlotte responded. "She wants to stay and live here in Bedford. And she wants and needs her mother to raise her."

"As what?" the mother cried out. Shaking, she took a cheek-hollowed puff on the shrinking 120 down to the filter and then stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray as she hissed an exhale through pursed lips. "She had...," she stammered, "...these tentacle-like things coming out of her back, just like everyone in that hall. What in God's name has happened to y'all?"

"Something wonderful," Charlotte said softly as she reached over and stroked the woman's hair. "You and I have been best friends since our school days, Livie. I was your bridesmaid at your wedding, and am godmother to Mason," she said with a nod towards the baby. Then she added with a chuckle, "And I love eating your sweet potato pie!"

Trust nobody, Lawrence told her; but Livie looked at Charlotte and felt comforted. They had indeed been best friends their whole lives.

"Nothing of what's happened today has changed any of that," Charlotte said with a gentle smile as she continued to stroke her friend's hair. At the same time, she discretely reached into her coat pocket and pulled out an orange bloom. "And in a few minutes, you and I will be closer than we've ever been before."

Charlotte's fingers gripped the back of Livie's head and held it tight. "I'm sorry for this discomfort," she apologized sincerely, and she quickly brought the wild flower towards her best friend's face.

Livie struggled for a few seconds but was quickly immobilized when her mouth and nose were bathed with nicotine spores from the bloom's tube. Immediately she felt as if she were sitting under a hot summer sun, and her lungs were afire with a pleasant tingling. "Oh, my," she whispered with her eyes closed.

Charlotte sat back in her chair and took a gentle puff on her cigarette. As rivulets of smoke began slowly descending from her nostrils, tendrils began slithering out of the top of her shirt behind her neck and hung in mid-air, gently undulating like serpents waiting to strike. After placing her cigarette in the ashtray, she pulled a fresh 120 out of the pack on the table, lit it freehanded, and exhaled a creamy cone of smoke into Livie's face. "This is going to feel so good," she whispered as she handed her best friend the Virginia Slims.

"Ohhhhh, gawd," the woman moaned after she inhaled her first puff. She didn't think she could ever feel that kind of stimulation in her lungs again after a life-time of heavy smoking. White clouds poured out of her open lips while she placed the cigarette in her mouth for a second, stronger puff. Little by little, black skinned tendrils began emerging out from behind her neck, hung in mid-air, and then gently coiled themselves around Charlotte's tendrils.

It was now Charlotte's turn to moan as the erotic stimulation surged through her body. How she loved the sensation of a virgin. The fear and excitement of the partner's first time heightened the erotic arousal of the other, which was then transferred back neuronically to the original user. Back and forth the message stimulant proceeded, building with intensity with each transfer, until a psychic orgasm of such extreme intensity occurred that it triggered...