The screamer

I have a screamer that lives next door to me.  I am guessing that she is about 10 years old and I think the cause of much of her woes is that she has several older brothers. Now, I get the frustration that siblings bring at that age. I also get that some people need to vent their frustration in some manner. What I don't get is how it can go on and on and on and...


I mean, where is the rest of the family while this rant is happening? Do they just tune her out and pretend that it isn't taking place? Remember, I live in Hawaii where multi-generational domiciles are more than common.  There is a very minuscule probability that there are not several other relatives at home at each given moment when a tantrum of this type is occurring. Don't they mind? Do they have sand in their ears?  Are they investors in cotton, earmuff, and earplug companies?


What I also don't get is the actual need to scream. I must be missing some female gene that dictates that every girl must scream starting at around the age of 2.  I see girls screaming with delight at the playground. I see teens screaming as they look on in teen-adoration at their teen-idols. I even see grown women screaming in either fear or excitement at something as simple as squirting water.  I, myself, am not a screamer.


Oh, I do exclaim the occasion "Oh!" or "@$?&!", but never a full-blown blood curdling scream. 


Hold on a minute. I think I do remember a time when I let out a throat-burning, lung-deflating, scream of terror. I was just about ten years old (the same age as my neighbor), on the verge of drifting off to sleep.  My older sister jumped into the doorway of my room (dark silhouette backlit from the hallway) and in a menacing voice yelled "TARANTULA" with her arms thrown wide. I remember I sat bolt-upright in bed, eyes popping, screaming bloody-murder. Even the thought of it makes my neck ache a bit.


Yes, that may have contributed to my life-long phobia of spiders, but it did not send me down the road of being a serial screamer. Luckily, I think I may have passed this missing scream-gene proclivity on to each of my two daughters; it was a blissful and peaceful time at the playground with them. No ear-piercing shrills, or deafening tantrums.


My young neighbor, on the other hand, is perfecting her skill at every opportunity.  With the aid of her brothers, she will be ready to enter into the Banshee Hall of Fame at a very early age. And she will know people far and wide who will be able to verify her claim.  Lord, have mercy.