The Siren (11 page)

If I had a hundred more years, I would devote it to my sisters to thank them.

Eleven years had passed this way, with me hopping from campus to campus. My current post was at a school in Portland, Maine. The weekend had arrived, and as if She were the air itself, I needed to be with the Ocean. I told Her of my most recent updates. I had been at this school for a while now, and I was comfortable. The walls were familiar, and I knew every corner of the play ground. The library was a sanctuary, full of books beaten in with affection. And I even had a small office space. I didn’t really need that, but when it was offered, I didn’t want to be rude and turn it down. But that space was only a small comfort for me.

Nothing compared to being lost in the Sea. She was shelter; She was family. The Ocean felt like a cradle for me, a strange haven that gave me strength and comfort. No one should feel this at ease in Her. These depths were meant for suffocation, and yet, here I was rejoicing in what ought to be my grave.

I swam in circles, happy as ever, updating Her on the lives of some of my favorite students. I preferred to work with younger children, elementary-aged children. But this particular school needed volunteers to work with the teenagers, and that’s where I was placed. I got along well with teenagers, which I guess I should have expected. I was, after all, still a teenager myself.

It was a hard concept to grasp, even as I lived it. My past life included, I witnessed the succession of eighteen presidents. I observed as wars progressed across the globe, avoiding them as best I could. I watched as one generation fell in love with the Beatles and then the next compared their favorite bands to the Fab Four like it would legitimize them. I saw the transition from records to tapes to CDs. I watched the world grow old in front of me and knew that I was no part of it. At heart, I was still just a girl on the edge of life.

As such, I understood these students’ worries and fears, and they were all so open with me. I appreciated the view of the world from their eyes. I still sometimes saw the world as darker than it actually was. With these children, I could be the carefree version of myself that I had been before I knew about the secrets the Ocean kept, the person that sometimes Elizabeth drew out with her playfulness. So I loved these kids. There were a few here that I was particularly close to, and these were the ones I updated the Ocean on regularly. I got so excited about them, I tended to ramble. She never minded.

Micah is going Ivy League. He just got his acceptance letter this week. We all knew he would, of course. He’s so bright. And determined! I can’t imagine anything that would slow that boy down.

So, from what I understand, they have this new technology they’ll be using to help him. The professor wears a special microphone pinned to his shirt while he speaks, and then it takes the whole lecture and translates it through a computer somehow. It’s really amazing! It looks like Micah will have to do more reading than most, but I think he’ll be just fine.

You should see how excited he is! He’s already used to living away from home now, so going away to college shouldn’t be a problem. I heard his parents were sad he was going out of state though. I think they just want him to be closer if anything happens. I thought that would have changed by now. So many other things in society seem to be loosening up, but parents are still pretty serious about their children. That’s how my parents were; they never let anything bad happen to me if they could help it…

We were quiet for a moment. We were both thinking the same thing. I suddenly needed to be closer to land. I swam towards the surface while I continued to speak.

Jack has already decided he isn’t going to college. He’s been working in his dad’s auto shop on the weekends and over breaks; he’s getting really good at mechanics. He’s also falling in love with motorcycles. I think he thinks that if he’s around motorcycles enough and can prove to his parents how responsible he is with them, he’ll be able to talk them into letting him have a bike of his own.

She laughed. Jack’s disposition was a little like Elizabeth’s: playfully rebellious. They never meant any harm, but you never knew what they’d wind up doing.

I swam my way up to the surface, peeking out of the waves to see if the coast was clear. It was empty enough where I was that no one would notice me. The clothes I wore when I had jumped in earlier were still intact since I had been moving so lazily— soaked through and dripping, but still intact. I sat on the same beach I came to Her from this morning with my feet in the water, staying connected so we could still talk. She knew I was saving the best for last.

I had helped plenty of children since this idea had struck me so many years ago, but I had never been so attached to any of them as I was to Jillian. Jillian was smart, but very isolated. I was assigned to her in a big sister type of program, and we hit it off immediately. Everyone thought she had poor social skills, but Jillian was just shy. As we realized how much we had in common, she opened herself to me. And then, when she was comfortable with me, she opened up to others. The transformation was remarkable. The girl I met two years ago and the girl I knew now were different people entirely.

Jillian was funny and warm and easy to be around. I think she had been shy because she didn’t think she was very pretty, but when I showed up and someone asked if I was her sister, she started holding her head higher. I took that as a compliment. Once she convinced herself she was worth noticing, she started trying more and more things— writing and making art— and discovered she wasn’t half bad. Even with areas she was unsure about, she at least gave it a try.

We spent lots of time just “talking.” Jillian had grown up in Maine, and loved it here, but she ached to see California. I told her about my brief experiences in the Golden State, saying I had just come from there, skipping the states in between. I told her about how it was sunny almost all the time, and how if she went to the Getty, she could see the mountains and the Ocean at once. That fact thrilled me at the time.

Jillian loved movies and magazines and boys. The latter was the subject of so many conversations. Maybe that was the root of it all: We were just so much alike. She was like a sister in a different way. Where I was pushed to be close to Miaka and Elizabeth and Aisling, Jillian and I chose one another’s company and were so similar it was like we should have been together all along.

We were both romantics. One day when we were talking, I realized that the boys at the school here, and at all the schools, were about my age. Maybe I should find them attractive? Wouldn’t that be a strange twist— the siren dating someone all but immune to her? But they all seemed so young to me. When I told Jillian I had never dated, she didn’t believe me. I kept saying that I was still waiting for the right guy. That was the most honest answer I could give her.

She thought Micah was absolutely wonderful. He was only a year ahead of her, but she knew she had no hope of getting into the same school as him— not exactly a studious girl. I told her not to worry about that, that she’d still have a chance with him. And that even if he did go to some fancy college, if he passed her up, he’d be the dumbest man on earth. She laughed out loud at that. I loved the sound of her laugh. It was the only sound she intentionally made. It was misshapen, but lovely.

And, of course, Jillian.

Her interest piqued.

She is so worried about Micah going away. He’s mentioned her a few times, too. I think that’s a big deal for a guy, but I’m afraid to tell her about it. What if I’m misreading that? I’d feel so bad if it was just a simple friendship and then her feelings go even deeper because of something I said. I couldn’t do that to her.

She doesn’t even realize how beautiful she is though. I’ve caught a few guys looking her way. Why aren’t boys braver? What’s the big worry? The worst she could do is say no… they act like she’d be cutting off an arm or something.

The Ocean giggled. She spent Her time with daughters, She had no comprehension of sons.

Boys!
I sighed.
Jillian’s art is getting so much better, too. I’ll bet she could go to art school. Maybe I’ll suggest that to her.

The Ocean asked if she was as good as Miaka.

Is anyone in the world as good as Miaka?!

She listened to my descriptions with interest. I was telling Her that my plan was to finish out this school year, take the summer off, and then stay the next year until Jillian left. After that I would have to go somewhere new. Three or four years was about the best I could hope for. It would give me time to say good-bye to her properly; I wanted closure there. She was the human I loved the most, but I couldn’t stay for too long.

I hope she’ll remember me later, You know? I hope I’ve had a good impact on her
.

The Ocean was sure I did.

I wish I could give her something to remember me by
.

A moment passed in thought. I hesitated, but went along with the idea anyway.

You remember where my wreckage is, right?

She was suddenly somber, like we both had been earlier when I mentioned my parents.

She knew where everything in Her was.

Maybe… maybe next year, before I leave, if You could find something that was mine? For Jillian?

She was surprised. I’d never asked for any of that for myself, though it was rightfully mine.

It was true, this school had provided a room for me to keep things in. I didn’t “live” there, but I kept some clothes there, now that I needed a wardrobe. And I didn’t have any personal items, except for arts and crafts the kids made me. That’s what decorated the room. If ever, now was the time for me to keep something that was mine since I had a place to store it. But, still, it just seemed wrong.

Maybe later I’ll take something for myself. But, next year, would You bring me something for Jillian? A necklace or something?

Of course She would.

Not sure where else to go with that idea, I changed the subject. We started talking about my plans for the future. It was only nineteen years until I rejoined the human world. I was counting down from nineteen to zero, and then from nineteen on until I ran out of years, years that were mine. What had seemed like an eternity was suddenly dwindling. I couldn’t believe it was so close to the end.

I sat there with Her asking about what others had done before me, and She gave me examples, options. It was strange, after all this time, to start thinking about the end.

I wasn’t sure how much I would remember of this life, but I thought there was a possibility I would miss this— having Her as a constant companion. No matter where I went, I could sense Her. When it rained, I never ran for cover, knowing we could have staccato conversations in the middle of a storm. When fog would sink down and inhibit the view of world, She and I were whispering secrets. In the humidity of the rainforest, She would saturate the air, drawing me in for the gentlest embrace.

I loved Her. I hated what I had to do
for
Her, and sometimes I hated what She had done
to
me, but I loved
Her.

The paths the others before me had taken were small in range. Marilyn had gone to a trade school under a new identity that the Ocean had provided. Money was only one of the many things the Ocean held in Her pockets. As technology improved, it was harder to deceive the outside world. Luckily, we had plenty of time to adapt.

One sister asked to be left by a convent, no doubt atoning for sins she assumed she would feel after she left. One married into nobility a few hundred years ago without ever intending to live that lifestyle. Lots became artists. Something about the Ocean awakened you to your ability to create. One actually became a professional singer. After years of keeping her mouth shut, she let her voice rain down on as many as would take her in. The Ocean gave me her name, and I looked up some of her scores. I don’t know if she had that gift before she was a sister, but if she did, it was no wonder she was chosen.

I had no such aspirations. The only thing I could maybe see myself doing was to continue working with the deaf. Maybe I could be a teacher. I really did find being around the teenagers easier than most, what with all my years of being a perpetual teen myself.

The only thing I was still looking forward to was marriage. Before I was taken, it was all I thought about, what I daydreamed about, what I dreamed about still. My parents were happy together, and I saw the romances in movies. Maybe that’s why I gave my affection so freely: I wanted desperately to be loved. With that thought in my head, I looked up…

And I saw him.

Before I could check my thoughts, She asked me who I thought was so handsome. I hated being caught like that. But it was just admiration from afar. Surely that was harmless.

There’s this boy on the beach. He’s tall and has dirty blonde hair. He’s very good-looking.

She wanted to know what was so special about him.

I don’t know. Maybe the expression on his face. He looks sad but hopeful somehow. Like he’s thinking about a million questions, but knows he has the answer to every one.