The Siren Read Free

blew Her voice in, that voice that I was just starting to hear like Marilyn could. But it wasn’t the same message as this morning. If I heard right… She said something about the Sea of Japan and another sister. We were to hurry.
    Marilyn and I looked at each other. We couldn’t speak here, but that message was a strange one. Another sister? Obviously to replace Marilyn, but I was still so new. There wasn’t time to think about what it all meant.
    My mentality switched in a serious second. I was no longer the girl dancing under a canopy. I was a siren. I had a job to do. I had to obey.
    We couldn’t just dive into the Ocean in front of all these people. We weren’t planning on resurfacing, and that would surely raise questions. We sprinted down the coast looking for an unoccupied stretch. People’s heads turned as we ran past, kicking up sand as we moved at top speed. Our borrowed skirts of bright yellows and pinks danced around in the wind. I noticed Marilyn edge close to the water as she ran for a moment. With her feet in the surf she could explain: We were on our way. There were just too many witnesses.
    The words the people on the beach spoke should have been in Spanish, but every syllable was crystal clear.
    “Look at those girls run!”
    “Nice legs, honey!”
    We ignored them, running on and on without stopping. One of the benefits of not really needing your lungs was never being caught breathless. A habit more than a necessity.
    It seemed to take forever to find a bend in the beach. I was worried. The Ocean knew we were coming, but our new sister did not. I hoped she would be alright for the handful of moments it would take to get to her. When a cluster of trees jutted out shielding a section of beach, Marilyn and I slowed to look back and make sure no one could see. Without another hesitation, we jumped in, not bothering to take a breath.
    We didn’t swim exactly, not when She had a specific place in mind. It was more like we were propelled. A weaker body would have caved from the force, but it almost tickled me every time. Usually, I felt a sense of dread when I moved this way, fully aware that I was about to assist in a massacre of sorts. I tried to take comfort in the knowledge that I wasn’t the one who wanted these lives. Along with the worry, I felt a strange surge of strength and beauty. I was, at least for a few people, the last thing they would see or hear, and I knew that on both counts I would be hauntingly perfect.
    As we moved through the water, our clothes disintegrated. The speed, I think, was the cause. Buttons and zippers held up against the beating pretty well, but with nothing to hold onto, they sank like tiny pebbles. Marilyn’s engagement ring took the pounding with no sign of the wear. I came into this world without any jewelry of my own to test this force with.
    There were no signs of location or time to what we wore when we were together singing. We were united, equals. As our clothing stripped away from our bodies, the Ocean would release all the salt in Her veins. These tiny particles would affix themselves to our bodies creating long, flowing dresses. They looked something like sea foam. Light and dazzling, they were never exactly the same, but always somehow similar. The colors were all Her shades— greens, blues, tans— a rainbow of Herself. We bathed in them. The dresses were timeless and wonderful and sensual in a way. Probably the only perk I had found so far of the life I was leading.
    Sometimes I would wear my dress until it fell apart. One little grain at a time, it would dissolve, and I would watch with sadness as it turned into salt on the floor. I adored them. And certainly, as we stood there on the open waters with such a costume, it would cause a man to forget what he was doing was insanity. Once we were at our final destination, the bare parts of our skin would shimmer in the light from the salt. And when we opened our mouths in song, there would be no resisting