The Siren (13 page)

“My family,” I sobbed. The memories of my last moments on the boat flooded me. It was fuzzy and broken, but I remembered my family. Their faces were gone now, but I knew who they were. My father was on the trip, but he was busy all day. My brothers and I— I remembered their names: Alex and Tommy— went around the boat together, enjoying the magic of our floating home. And my mother, my beautiful mother… her face was gone, but I remembered she was beautiful. She was supposed to stay with me when we sank, but I was sucked away. All I have left of her are her last words as the wave came towards us: “Take a deep breath, Kahlen. Hold on tight.”

The same words Marilyn left me with. The same words in every nightmare.

The Ocean knew how guilty I felt about losing them all; the damn trip had been my idea. Because of my insistence, I lost them all. Though Alex made it out alive, his survival didn’t make it any easier. I wondered for years what he must have seen and heard as he struggled to just keep living. I was a part of what would have surely been nightmares for him.

Marilyn knew that I would have a hard time without her with me, and she hoped I would hold on for their sakes. She chose her last words to me deliberately, hoping I wouldn’t give up. God, how many times had I thought of going the same way as Ifama? But I wasn’t brave enough to do that. Instead I stayed and killed the only friend I’d ever chosen. I joined the mob that took my family.

“I wasn’t alone when I was taken. My family went down, too. It was my fault.”

They didn’t say anything. Though my head was down I could feel them looking at each other. I had never shared that detail with them. When Miaka and Elizabeth asked how I came to be a siren, I kept the story simple. I told them I was on a steamer to London, and I had begged to live, just like them. Marilyn had known it all. And the Ocean knew. She knew everything. How could She do this to me?

“Kahlen… we didn’t know…” Miaka reached out for me sympathetically. Elizabeth followed suit.

I shook them off of me and ran into the water. I couldn’t bear to be around them; I was too ashamed. I had to get to Maine. Surely, in a few days, there would be a funeral. But maybe Jillian made it. The chances were small, but I could hope until I knew.

I got into the water, not bothering to address Her. I was there because it was the fastest way to where I wanted to go, end of story. The Ocean spoke as I moved. She was sorry that I had lost my friend.

So, that quickly, I found out. Jillian was gone.

She couldn’t change what happened and was sorry I had to see that. She asked me to not be upset with Her— it was just something She had to do.

I didn’t respond.

She offered to take me to my island. She said I should get away from all of this.

If the Ocean had a face to glare into, I would have shot Her a vicious look. As if I would ever want that thing again. I’d burn the trees to the ground myself.

I didn’t respond.

She told me not to do anything rash. Stay calm. In a few years, I wouldn’t even have this memory.

I didn’t respond.

I didn’t believe Her. I was sure that I would somehow always know how horrible I had been, the pain I had caused. The Ocean responded to my directionless thoughts. She reminded me the
She
caused the pain, not me. She was trying to sooth me, but I wouldn’t have it. I finally lost my temper.

Get the hell out of my head! Leave me alone! For God’s sake, I give You all I have, and You take it, You just take everything! My family, my life, any fraction of hope that I might be a decent person— You’ve got it all. I have nothing left for You to take, so leave me alone— I hate You!

Water cringing is an unimaginable feeling, but I have felt it. We had been closer than She had been with anyone before me, She had hurt me beyond repair, and now She had to feel it. I didn’t care if She dried up. Let the whole earth disintegrate. She was taking it all in fractions as far as I could tell anyway. I moved as fast as I could, anxious to be out of Her. Finally, I felt that the water was the same as it should be near Maine. I got out, but knew immediately I was in the wrong place. I didn’t even care.

It was nearly twilight now, and I climbed onto the rocky coast in the orange-pink glow of the fading day. It was quite a climb, and the algae-covered boulders didn’t help. I meant to be swift, but the struggle could not be sped up. Mercifully, no one saw me. I didn’t want to wear this dress anymore, but I wasn’t going to ask Her for money or hunt down something worth stealing, so I kept it on as I ran.

It was a good thing that I couldn’t physically hurt. I felt the rocks and sticks prick the soles of my feet as I made it across a street and into some woods. I noted a lighthouse to the south of me as I found a small opening in the growing brush. I stepped, dodging branches unnecessarily and hurtling even more boulders. What were they even doing in here?

I stopped not nearly far enough in. I was about to break down with the weight of my sadness. My body could handle the run, but my heart could not. After a few more steps I saw a large fallen tree that rested on the ground. The ground just in front of it was packed in; this was someone else’s haunt. I sat down on this accidental bench, pulled my knees to my chest and wept as silently as I could.

I don’t know how long I sat there, but it was getting dark when I looked up again. I knew I wasn’t near Portland; I was too far north. I hadn’t been paying attention. But, wherever I was, I could lie low here. In a few days I could figure out what to do about Jillian’s funeral. Had her parents been on that ship? Who would I need to find? Should I go back to the school? How was I supposed to face them? And Micah! I wasn’t sure about his feelings, but they were deep enough that this would break him like it broke me.

Wait. Maybe I wouldn’t be welcome at a funeral. No one would know, of course, but it’s not usual for murderers to pay their respects to their victims. And I would probably cry… who knew what I might cause by that? I would have cursed my voice a thousand ways if I’d had sufficient words. But then again, thinking those words would never have been enough. I needed to scream. This moment deserved that. There’s only so much sound you can hold inside.

I’d have to find another way of saying good-bye. Going to any sort of funeral would probably produce more harm than good. How much damage could I cause in my lifetime? Granted, my lifetime would end up being at least double what others had, so I had twice the capacity for bad, but still. I was at the end of any plans I could make today. So I sat there and waited for something to guide me out of this place.

“Hello?” someone asked. I put myself on guard immediately. This voice was masculine; it wasn’t a sister. It didn’t sound frightening. On the contrary, it sounded sweet. But I knew if someone meant to hurt me tonight, they were in for a hell of a fight.

I didn’t want to hurt another person, not after what I’d just done. But I was admittedly vulnerable right now. I looked around for the source of this voice, and, at once, all of my emotions melted into calm.

I knew this face.

This was the face I had put to memory to keep me company: the boy throwing rocks. His face was nervous. He saw my tears and was worried about scaring me.

Of all days to cross my path… again.

The last time I saw him, he looked so formal. Here he was in torn jeans and a close fitting T-shirt. Not nearly as tidy as last time, but even more handsome than I had remembered. There was no sadness in his face now, only gentle concern.

I should have moved. I would have, except that I was far too happy to see him. It was the wrong emotion to have at a time like this, but I was relieved.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

I shook my head no. I had never been less alright than today.

“Are you lost?”

If only he knew what he was asking me. And, though it wasn’t how he meant it, I nodded.

“What’s your name?”

I shook my head.

“Did you forget it?”

I shook my head.

“Can’t you speak? I mean… you must hear me. Is your voice broken?”

Yes! I nodded. It was so broken.

“Alright, then. So, you can’t talk right now, but you do know your name… does it start with an A? B?”

He went down the alphabet until he got to K. This would be a long game. If only I had some paper. Or if he could sign. I tried spelling my name with my hands, but he didn’t understand.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure it out later. How about, for now, could I just call you Kay?”

I nodded.

“Were you here with other people?”

No.

“Are you hurt?”

No.

“Do you feel sick at all?”

No.

He paused for a moment, out of questions.

“Well, I guess the only thing to do is call someone. See if we can find out who you belong with. Do you want to come with me? Maybe I can help you.”

Despite all the sadness I had felt today, this made me happy. I nodded.

“Okay then. Here, let me help you.”

He walked over to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He put my arm over his shoulder and helped raise me to my feet. I must have looked weak. I did feel kind of lightheaded.

“You lost your shoes,” he noted. “They must have been something special to go with a dress like that.”

Yes… this dress. What in the world must I look like to him? Wait, wasn’t that the same thought I had the last time I saw him?

“You smell kind of like the ocean. Were you at a party on a boat, maybe? Did you fall off? That’d be something! Oh, but you were in the woods… sitting on a log… in an evening gown. No, that doesn’t exactly work. You, madam, are a mystery.” He laughed at his own conclusion.

We hobbled along in silence. I was too aware of his hands on my skin and how warm he felt beside me. He looked down at me like he was trying to figure me out. After a moment, his face switched from being curious to an expression that I didn’t know. He stopped walking, and with his arm around me I had to stop, too. He stared. I wasn’t used to being looked at that way, not up close. I blushed and ducked my head.

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s getting late. Better hurry.” But, when he wasn’t dodging branches, I could feel his eyes fall back onto me.

 
CHAPTER
6

Once we made it out of the brush he took me up in his arms. I could walk just fine, but I had tripped a lot with his arm around my waist. I couldn’t complain about the new mode of transportation though. I happily rested in the stranger’s arms. I’d never in my life, both past and present, been this close to a boy. My heart danced in my chest. He was watching where he was going but looked down to my face every once in a while when he made some ridiculous comment.

“It’s nice out tonight. You couldn’t pick a better evening to go and get yourself lost. I mean, look at that moon. Perfect night for going missing, don’t you think?”

I couldn’t help but smile. Who said things like that? Really?

I appreciated that— how he tried to keep me calm.

I studied his face while he carried me, shocked because I remembered exactly how he looked four months ago, and he didn’t look quite the same now. His hair was longer, but only marginally. Like he had cut it a few months ago, and it had already grown back out and then some. And his face was darker, tanner. He must have been spending a lot of time in the sun. In his pressed pants and button-up shirt, he didn’t seem like much of an outdoorsy kind of guy, but now it was obvious that he did work outside. His hands, which I had felt on my arm as we walked earlier, were coarse. The calloused parts of his skin pulled on the delicate blue fabric of my dress, snagging it.

I was confused. The two images I had of him contradicted one another. Who was he? The same person, certainly. I knew because of his eyes. They were the exact same calm blue as before. The one part of him that was absolutely, perfectly similar to my memory. Except they seemed brighter now, hopeful. How many hours had I spent thinking of those eyes? He caught me looking into them more than once.

My thoughts bounced in my head. I felt overwhelmed. I was still angry and sad over losing Jillian. I had no idea how to make the amends I felt I must. Jillian’s last thoughts of me would be full of horror— a friend standing on water, yelling words she couldn’t hear, and then leaving her to die. How could I ever make this right? And my sisters. I was mean to them. I had just been thinking that I should spend more time with them, but I swatted them off me and ran away. Would they understand? Would they forgive me?

I had upset the Ocean. I had hurt Her like She hurt me. I had even disobeyed Her. I wondered in a circle of thought. If She’d thought that there would have been anyone to see what I’d done, maybe She would have killed me there. But there were no survivors. If I had just seen Jillian and gone under and asked Her to let Jillian live without making a scene, would She have spared my friend? Let there be just one survivor in the end? I didn’t think so, but still, maybe my actions made it worse.

And this boy. This was bad. I was leaving the silent sanctuary of the deaf schools. Even though I hadn’t made the tiniest of sounds there in all these years, those schools were what let me safely interact with humans. There was no guard here. And— even peculiar to me— there was the fact that I had seen him twice now.