The Siren (5 page)

This wasn’t normal. Usually She let us go in peace. It was the kind thing to do, considering we all had different ways of consoling ourselves. Aisling retreated into her solitude. Marilyn had a glass of wine. We couldn’t feel the effects of it, but she said it calmed her all the same. I would sink into my daydreams. I would imagine the life I would lead one day that would make this all worth it. This night had been so abrupt and cruel that I couldn’t wait to get away from Her. But obedience, absolute obedience, was imperative. So we went where She told us to. It wasn’t a long journey.

When we got to the beach, I looked for signs of a location, but didn’t know what any of the things I saw meant. There were no signs and the structures I saw in the distance weren’t in any book I’d seen. It was evening and almost pretty. Almost.

Miaka cried, and I held her while she wept. I wanted to cry myself, but now I had someone to be strong for. If I broke down, how would she cope?

“I-I hurt those people,” she managed to get out between sobs.

I wanted to contradict her, but wasn’t sure I could. It
had
been our voices that drew those men into their final moments, but I didn’t want for my baby sister to feel that ache.

“Listen to me, Miaka. You only did what you had to do. The Ocean is the one who takes the lives. The dangers are always there, we just make them seem less perilous. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

As the words came out of my mouth, they tasted like lies. There had to be some truth in there somewhere, but I couldn’t feel it. Still, I tried to will Miaka into believing it. I refused to let her suffer.

I felt awful for Miaka. Not only was it far too soon for her to sing, it was the most shocking ending we’d ever imposed. I couldn’t get past the lack of an alibi. No concern at all. We were supposed to hide Her secret, but where was Her effort in this?

Earlier I had felt immeasurable gratefulness to the Ocean for giving us Miaka. Now I was fiercely upset with Her for hurting our newest sister. How could She be so unkind?

Aisling paced up and down the shore. The waves looked better now, stronger than they had been. I could see Aisling’s eagerness to leave. She kept looking out over the Sea as she paced and then looked down to the sand. She seemed more frustrated than usual. I wished she would calm down; her angry strides made me nervous. We all wanted to get out of here, but we had to wait. What did she have that made her more important than the rest of us?

Marilyn stood silently and gazed out over the open waters. She took measured breaths and let her arms fall at her side. I only saw her profile, but there was no sign of anxiety in her expression. She had already made her peace. I hoped that I would find that one day, too.

We were as quiet as the open sky. Only Miaka made tiny sounds here and there with her sobs. We waited. Who knew how much time had passed? Time was something we never ran out of, so there was no point in trying to count it.

Finally, once She had absorbed everything She needed to, the Ocean came to us. Her cadence was slower and stronger now. The calm tempo of Her speech helped me release some of the stress. At least She was alright now. She apologized for making us endure that, but She had waited too long. She vowed to be more careful in the future. I passed all of this on to Miaka in hushed tones, stroking her hair. The look on her tiny face expressed the unfathomable moment when you wake from a nightmare only to realize you were never really asleep.

The Ocean started again. She had asked us to stay together for this: Marilyn was being released.

We all looked at Marilyn who seemed confused. We all knew it was close but not this close. This announcement hit me like a punch in the gut. Did it have to happen right now? Couldn’t she stay just a little bit longer? But it was unfair of me to even think that. It would hurt to lose Marilyn, but I couldn’t wish anymore of this life on her. If I had wanted to cry earlier, it was nothing compared to the sorrow I felt now.

My sister was leaving me. But I loved her too much to have her see me sad. No tears. I’d smile for my Marilyn.

Everything changed so quickly. I wasn’t going to back to South America. Miaka was here now. Marilyn was leaving me. Maybe it would always be like this: as soon as you adjusted, this life would shift beneath you.

“I thought… I thought it was longer,” Marilyn stammered.

Perhaps it was, but the Ocean would not need Marilyn again before her time was up. It seemed fair to let her go tonight.

“What happens?” That was an interesting question. Marilyn should have seen this before, but for my and Miaka’s sakes, I was glad she asked. I longed to know how this all ended. Was it as strange as the start?

Apparently there was a reason Marilyn didn’t know. The Ocean explained that they would discuss that privately. For now, Marilyn was simply reminded that her body would soon be breakable again, and she was to be careful with it. Marilyn could also rest assured that the Ocean would never seek her out again either to protect her or harm her, but that She could not promise complete safety.

A moment passed. Marilyn had spoken with the Ocean so often. It seemed wrong that she would be confused on this point. They both knew it was close. Hadn’t they talked about it?

“Will I remember
anything
?” Marilyn asked.

This was unclear. Marilyn might remember sights and sounds of the last few decades, but beyond that, there were no certainties. Most everything would probably seem like a dream. The Ocean never spoke with former sirens to find these things out; it would only complicate matters. But She was sure memories of the life Marilyn had before becoming a siren would disappear. Upon hearing that, Aisling halted mid-stride. I guessed she had something in her she couldn’t wait to forget. Whatever awful thought littered her head, she kept her back to us, silently rejoicing at its eventual absence.

Marilyn looked at the rest of us, tears touching her sparkling eyes. “What about my sisters? Will we know each other? Will we meet again?” At these words I choked. I was losing her forever, I knew it. I was aware of how much she meant to me, but I never stopped to think about what we meant to her. Marilyn had introduced all three of us to this life and had guided us through the hardest parts of it. She was very motherly in a way. The thing she had dedicated the last hundred years of her life to was now gone. I suddenly wondered if there was a chance I might miss this.

It wasn’t impossible for us to meet again, but it was unlikely. And, of course, we wouldn’t be able to communicate with her if we did. So, for now, it was time to say good-bye.

Marilyn steadied herself, strong as ever. She went to Miaka first. Surely that would be the easiest.

“I know you’re scared, but you just listen to your big sisters. There’s something special about you, Miaka, never doubt that. You wouldn’t still be alive if you were anything less than one of a kind. Use this time wisely, and it will pay off. I wish you luck,” she said, her eyes full of honesty. Miaka was still so overcome from everything that she only nodded her head. Marilyn’s eyes met mine for a moment, but she backed away, heading over to Aisling. It was merciful; it gave me another moment to check my tears.

“Aisling… you are the truest survivor I have ever known. You stand up to every challenge, you’re tough, and you never back down. I admire that about you. I hope that in this next life of mine, I take some of that strength with me. I hope to cross your path again someday.”

Aisling had listened to all of this with a mixture of emotions on her face. For a moment it seemed like she was actually sad to see Marilyn go. That look of loss passed over her face so quickly that I was sure I imagined it. Then I knew I was wrong when Aisling chose to answer Marilyn’s last wish with, “I don’t.”

Cutting until the very end, Aisling walked past Marilyn closer to the surf, still waiting for her chance to leave. Marilyn only sighed, still full of endless patience, even for someone hurting her in what ought to be a glad moment. She blinked her eyes, turned her head, and met my face.

We both crumbled. How was I supposed to do this without her? Did everyone I loved have to be separated from me? We ran to one another and embraced.

“Oh Marilyn,” I managed to mumble. But my weeping overtook any other words I might have had.

“Kahlen. Oh Kahlen, just don’t give up. I know it’s been hard on you, but you have to hold on. You’re capable of so much; I’ve felt it from the beginning. You can’t stop trying to live. You can either sit here and mope, or you can let this be an adventure for you. It’s an amazing ride if you just hold on. Think of Miaka. You’ll mean so much to her. You’ve meant the world to me. I think once it all disappears, I’ll still manage to miss you. Try to make the most of this time. Breathe in all the wonders around you. Take a deep breath, Kahlen. Hold on tight.”

I wept and wept. I wanted to express how much what she said meant to me, and how I would do it all. I would be strong and brave. But the only thing I managed to get out was, “I love you.” All I could think of were those two sentences, my eternal command:
Take a deep breath, Kahlen. Hold on tight
. It was the second time I had heard them, and both were the last time I had heard the giver’s voice. Marilyn knew that. She said those words to me on purpose. She knew I wasn’t very brave or strong. She knew I’d still need help. But this was all I was going to have.

“I love you, too,” she told me. She kissed my cheeks and hugged me tight and then walked away. She went to the edge of the surf, pausing once to look back at us all. And then she was gone.

That was the last time I saw Marilyn alive. She didn’t mention where she would go, but I guessed it would be back to England or America. I was right. In one of my more restless years, I ran across her obituary on microfiche from an Edinburgh newspaper. It had her picture next to the write up. She was radiant with age. Behind the wrinkles, I still saw that classic sparkle in her eyes. The hair might have been gray, but it still curled wildly. She did marry. She had a family. Her life was a quiet one, but it was good. I was happy to have known her.

I wouldn’t have known this detail except that the article mentioned this, and it made me wonder for a long time after. She had her ashes scattered at Sea. Maybe there was absolutely no reason behind it, but I couldn’t help but contemplate the other possibility. For years afterwards, even though she had passed on, I felt a comfort in the water because I knew Marilyn was there.

The Ocean had no more instructions for us, and we were free to leave. But there on the beach, Miaka and I simply held each other. Miaka was still reeling from the events that had just passed, and I mourned losing Marilyn with so much strength it overwhelmed me. This day seemed to drag on and on. I couldn’t believe that it was only this afternoon that I had watched the young couple walk happily down the street.

Aisling walked past us into the gentle waves, muttering the word “babies” under her breath as she disappeared off to wherever it was she hid. I couldn’t believe her.

After an immeasurable moment, we calmed. I looked over at Miaka. I heard people say they had a tough first day on a job before, but she would put them all to shame. She had withstood it all with a level of grace that surpassed me. I had seen grown men collapse under less strain. I hoped I would be able to comfort her now.

“So,” I finally said, “I guess you’re stuck with me, huh?”

She laughed a little at that and nodded.

“Where would you like to go?”

“Oh… I don’t know. I’ve never been anywhere but Japan. Can we live there?” she asked.

“That’s not the best idea for now,” I said, summoning all of Marilyn’s wisdom. “You don’t want to accidentally be seen. And it’s better if we go where we can be alone— it’s hard to get used to talking to only one person. And it’s easier for your family if you just… just vanish.”

She quietly let that sink in. There was no struggle in her to get more than I could offer. I guessed she had lived her life in submission until now. I think it was my position as a favored child that made me think I deserved more than I currently had. But Miaka was meek. If she could hold onto a little of that timidity, she would do exceedingly well at this job. Still I hoped there was more to her than that. She looked out over the blackness that surrounded us.

“Could we go somewhere with a lot of lights?”

 
CHAPTER
3

If I was on a honeymoon here, how would it be?

My husband would take my hand and spin me around in circles. I would laugh out loud, my voice glowing brighter than the lights around us. We would be dressed in casual and crisp styles; he’d give me anything I wanted. He’d pull me in, his face lingering inches away from mine. Whoever he was, he would be too beautiful. Sparing my eyes for a few moments, I’d look up and examine the crisscrossing metalwork above us. How many hands had made this structure? His fingers would find my cheek, pulling my gaze back down. Without warning, I’d be lost in a kiss.

A romantic thought. As it was, no handsome stranger held me. Instead, I walked the streets of Paris with Miaka. She’d said she wanted lights, and these were the best I knew of.

Time passes slowly when you have a lot of it. The last of the 1920s and the beginning of the 30s found us in France. Paris wasn’t exactly Ocean-front, so we had to check in a lot. I often questioned the Ocean’s timing with us in my head; we were both so young. I didn’t know much about the history of sirens, but this seemed to be a bad idea. She was lucky She chose responsible girls back to back; otherwise, we would have been helpless.