Page 21 of The Siren


  Sometimes I saw things I had already seen. Like that night on the beach, us still on the blanket. The music sounded so real— the melodies lingered in my memory, and I could even remember bits of the lyrics. The textures were as fresh as ever: Julie’s soft dress, the grainy sand, Akinli’s belt buckle pressed into my hip. His smell never faded; I would know it if I was blindfolded and placed in a room with a hundred men. And his beautiful face came to me with perfect clarity. Akinli had just pulled back from me, and the look on his face… he looked like he truly couldn’t believe how lucky he was; that it was beyond all reason that he should get to kiss me. Hadn’t he known it was the other way around?

  Sometimes my dreams took me to those forbidden places we weren’t supposed to explore. Not yet. My mind invented visions of Akinli so tempting it threatened to make my heart burst. While his body in these dreams was what drew me in— with his defined arms and back and stomach, hands that gripped me tightly to him, breath unsteadily pushing into my hair— what always made me feel weak was the look in his eyes. Hungry, aggressive, focused. In my head, he wanted me more than any woman has ever been desired in history. I’d wake up warm and panting for air, though my breathing was fine.

  Sometimes I saw things that I only wished I could. Wedding after wedding after wedding. They were always the same, but totally different. Most of them were in high-ceilinged churches. I didn’t know what it looked like in the churches in Port Clyde, but that’s usually where we were. That was our home. The guest lists in those ones were huge, with people standing in the aisles just to have a peek at us making our vows. Once, we got married standing in the middle of the Ocean with Ben and Julie and the rest of the sisters there to see. That thought, the most impossible one— that something like that could happen with everyone’s approval— made me the happiest. We were always blissful, and I could always say “I love you” out loud.

  It was always a disappointment to wake up without seeing his face, but the days when I did left me lighter. I missed him so much, I actually ached. It was another one of those surprising things that truly, physically crippled this perfect body. But I was happy that I at least had that handful of days with him. I smiled at them. I’d mindlessly float through memories, lost for hours. Sometimes Miaka would catch my face while I was in the middle of one of my better memories and say, “There you are!” as if I had still been gone all this time. I was glad when I could be myself around them. The truth was I rarely felt like myself. Not with Akinli missing.

  Most of the time, I fared pretty well. When I was absolutely miserable from the ache, I went to the Ocean. I’d hold out as long as I possibly could, and then I’d go to Her. I hated that She had to see this, but it was the only place I was safe to cry aloud. Sometimes you have to give the hurt a noise and let it out. If you don’t, it fills you up with its emptiness.

  I would cry and cry, adding to Her size one drop at a time. And She would cradle me deeper and deeper. I’d go to places where there was no light, and I could feel like none of it existed. She held me until I was calm. After one of these episodes, I would always feel ridiculous, as if there had been no reason for it at all. But the next time the feelings came, they felt completely valid. I couldn’t find my way out.

  I repeated my mantra to myself: It’s better this way. He’s happier this way. He’s safer this way. You’re safer this way.

  Happy. Safe. Happy. Safe.

  So I gave it time.

  CHAPTER 13

  My outlook on life became more and more desolate.

  I had to put on an act for humanity, playing my part of the average girl. I could never let anyone come as close to me as Akinli had been. At this point, even the deaf schools were out of the question because I’d always be thinking of where I’d rather be. They wouldn’t get anything from me.

  I had to play a part for my sisters. They would undoubtedly be less guarded with themselves if they thought they could bend the rules— the rules they already walked the edge of. And they wouldn’t understand my sadness if it lasted much longer. To them, I had lost a friend, and that’s all they knew. But I had lost the love of my life— this cursed life and then some— and they could never know.

  I couldn’t play a part to the Ocean. Well, I could if I learned to guard my mind well enough. Marilyn had shared this with me, that sometimes she hid things from the Sea. But I was used to Her knowing my every thought. Even before I wanted to really let Her in, She was there. I’d have to guard the hurt as best I could; She would want me to forget all about him. But how could eyes not notice the light? How could lungs not acknowledge the air? There are just some things you can’t ignore.

  The handful of beings I had cared for knew me to a certain point. Akinli had broken through almost every barrier; he didn’t try to make me play down my sadness. He took me in even with all my flaws. But that was no longer an option, not even for those inside the secret.

  If I had felt like an actress before, it was nothing. I fell down the rungs until I landed as a puppet, with the strings of my duties pulling me down more than holding me aloft.

  I kept it inside. The only other option was death at the Ocean’s hands, and I couldn’t leave this world yet. I couldn’t die without knowing Akinli was happy and safe forever. I’d have to check on him again eventually.

  I could see it all stretching out in front of me— years and years of wasting away in sadness. Akinli growing older, marrying someone else, having a family. And me, nineteen and unbreakable, but completely destroyed by my loss of him.

  It felt like such a waste. I’d survived so much to have my life thrown off completely by one week. Is this what love did? Ruin everything? Was this love at all? I had nothing else to compare it to. I’d never dream of testing it. There was only one for me. He was all I wanted. And now… now I’d just have to survive.

  So I went with my sisters. And I tried.

  August passed.

  My imagination got the best of me. I was sure Akinli was back with Casey, and the idea brought me more sorrow than comfort. I thought of them together, making up after her long absence. I wondered exactly how many kisses that would mean for her.

  I tried not to think about how good his kisses felt, how easy they were to get lost in. But in trying not to, I remembered all too clearly. In an instant the kisses I had been trying not to dwell on since I left felt fresh on my lips. His weight, his smell, his taste— they all drifted into me. Those kisses were forbidden to me. Those kisses were Casey’s now. And she was a greedy person. She would be taking her share of them and then some.

  Their mouths would come together, a strange mix considering the honey that came from his lips and the venom that came from hers. The hands that used to tangle in my mahogany hair would wind into her golden strands. And she would press herself on him, giving him invitations he’d accepted in the past. But what would he do now? He was back with this girl who everyone thought he would marry one day. Would he fall back into that pattern? She was his familiar past and his obvious future… of course he would. And it would be unfair for me to hold that against him. She was his, he was hers.

  And even if he didn’t with Casey— though he was bound to between her strong will and his giving nature— it would happen with someone. And, whoever she was, she wouldn’t know how lucky she was to have him.

  September passed.

  Elizabeth and Miaka were still trying to comfort me. They hadn’t quite given up on me yet, though I knew I wasn’t nearly as pleasant to be around as I once was. I wanted to talk to them, to explain why I was acting this way, but it wasn’t an option. Miaka brought me cakes and treats, and Elizabeth did funny dances through the flat. I smiled and laughed from time to time, but they were weak.

  I twirled my leaf charm over and over in my hand. Akinli promised that fall in Port Clyde was something to be seen. It wouldn’t be long now. I tried to imagine it, to envision the little house with a yard full of scat
tered leaves. The trees would be alive with fireworks of autumnal colors, half-naked branches standing unashamed, daring the wind to take away the rest of their flickering clothes.

  In my head it was beautiful, but I knew the only thing that would make the picture complete would be Akinli’s smiling face. It wasn’t something I could dream up; it was something I had to see.

  So I asked the Ocean if I could go see Akinli. Not talk to him, but watch from the rocks and see the leaves.

  She didn’t think that was a good idea.

  But I wouldn’t visit him or anything. I want him to move on. I just want to see is all. Please?

  She stood firm.

  October passed.

  We stayed in London until the end of the month. The honeysuckle and cigarette smell of the summer faded and gave way to drearier weather. I wondered how I had held this place on such a pedestal. All things considered, it was a short visit. We had extracted all the fun out of it by then, or so Elizabeth said. In actuality, I was tired of all the people and was glad to leave myself. I was ready to go somewhere a little less populated. I didn’t know if I was fooling my sisters, but I tried to seem interested in the things they said.

  I continued to sleep. My dreams steadily became nightmares of Akinli being pulled away from me. He was always sinking slowly into darkness, to a place I could not reach him. And that bothered me because I knew that there was no place on this earth that this body of mine could not reach.

  I stopped sleeping altogether. Seeing his face fade away was no way to see it at all. I was afraid that image would be the one that was stuck in my head. I thought, daily, of the look on his face out the window on the night I got my necklace. I put that into the forefront of my mind. That’s how I would think of him, that was how he was now. I convinced myself of it. He was happy. And so we moved on. Good-bye, London.Goal met, nothing missed.

  November passed.

  I longed to be someplace more hidden. It was too much work to keep up the façade anymore. Pretending to be an average person… it was too much labor for my body to handle. My whole being felt heavy, the act of a smile seeming as difficult as those strongmen lifting boulders above their heads.

  And yet, I did it. We went from London to Paris. How many times had I seen Paris now? It seemed we passed through often enough.

  I tried to be enthusiastic. Miaka loved the art in Paris. We went to shows and ate in cafes like we usually did. Only this time Elizabeth was there, which was a mercy in some ways— a third person made it easier for me to slip through the cracks. In other ways, it was a struggle.

  Elizabeth’s thirst for life was unquenchable. For her there was always something to see, something to do. She insisted that we taste everything, walk down every street. And, begrudgingly, I followed. We were out a lot, practically every moment. At least that spared me the work of trying to make conversation. I’d walk behind my sisters, pretending to admire the scenery. But what I was really doing all that time as I strode along, my fingers twirling my necklace around and around, was missing something and someone much simpler than this self-important city.

  November meant that it was Thanksgiving time. I wondered if poor Julie had to make the dinner all on her own. Or maybe Ben did some of the work. Or maybe they went to eat with other family members. I thought of the nameless faces in the frames around the house, people I had actually thought I might meet. The longing bit at me.

  I asked the Ocean if I could go see Akinli again.

  I just want to see him. That’s all.

  She claimed I was in no condition, that I was still moping. She said a visit would only make me think of him more.

  I would think of him anyway.

  All the same, I could not go.

  Please? I pleaded.

  No.

  I’m begging You! Five minutes, that’s all. Five minutes.

  No.

  I didn’t speak to Her for a while after that, I was so frustrated. I couldn’t figure out a way around Her or I would have tried. Even though it would have meant breaking a direct command, I would have tried anything.

  December passed.

  We remained in Paris for the holidays. Miaka and I had enjoyed Christmas there in our early years together, and Miaka had described it with the infallible language of an artist to the point that there was no way Elizabeth was leaving before New Years. Paris was always aglow, but at Christmas it seemed even brighter. Still, with all the lights, it felt dark inside my chest.

  No matter how many Christmases you live through, each one holds a sort of magic. Like if you really want something bad enough, it will come to you. We had lived through so many years together with such child-like enthusiasm, the magic of the holidays made you believe that things could really change— be better, be different. As much as I wished that year, I would not be with Akinli in Port Clyde. There wasn’t enough magic to fix me.

  Miaka had not believed in Christianity in her previous life. She merely enjoyed the celebrations and all of the shopping that surrounded Christmas, and it was easy enough to get caught up in it all. Elizabeth told me that she definitely thought there was a higher being out there, but she wasn’t sure about a God in the way the church talked about.

  “There is a God,” I said absentmindedly as my sisters spoke of spirituality.

  “Oh yeah?” Elizabeth snapped, not rudely, but in disbelief. “How do you know?”

  “She told me.”

  “Huh?” Miaka chimed in.

  “The Ocean told me. He’s there. He makes the waves and the storms, She just has to be strong enough to hold them. She wouldn’t need us if She could bring the storm to the ship. She is the most powerful thing we know of, and yet, She has to yield. Trust me, there is a God.”

  They stared at me for a while. Probably because that was the most I had said in weeks. Those words comforted me because I was tired of answering to Her, obeying Her, bending to Her. It gave me the deepest comfort I had felt in a while to remember that there was Someone, Something out there who could squash Her.

  Still, ever aware of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, the whole month felt hollow. I couldn’t bring my beliefs to affect my view of the festivities around me. I saw manger scenes; I saw Santa’s ringing bells. It meant nothing. No hope. No goodwill. No peace. I hoped with all my heart that whatever Akinli was asking for this year, he got it.

  January passed.

  A new year, just like all the others. One more gone, eighteen to go. Only eighteen more years of missing his smile. Of wishing he would hold me. Of thinking about him growing old without me. Only eighteen.

  We stayed in France. We drank wine for no damn reason. I noticed that Elizabeth and Miaka liked to play the part of drunken girls. They couldn’t laugh out loud or sing obnoxious songs like the others did, but they would sloppily dance with one another and the occasional drunken party-goer. At the high fashion party we crashed on New Year’s Eve, they kissed. They liked to shock people; that was their buzz. I expected about as much from Elizabeth— her whole being searched for a high— but I was surprised that she got that much out of Miaka. We all participated in streaking and had fun stealing that car, but Miaka was getting more and more brazen every year.

  I remembered how small she was on the beach that first night. I remembered her hugging me and calling me her friend. I remembered us crying on and on after that ship was devoured and Marilyn left.

  Miaka didn’t cry much anymore. She was brave and exciting.

  I wasn’t sure how much this experience had helped me; I think it made Aisling worse, and nothing would ever change someone as unmovable as Elizabeth. But it looked like Miaka had gotten the best deal of us all. Her previous life oppressed her. She was not going to have to be the girl of the life she was born into. I was happy that she was going to be a true success someday.

  Miaka and Elizabeth were growing steadily less tolera
nt of my moodiness. I would enter the room and they would stop talking sometimes. I knew they had been tearing me apart in my absence, complaining to one another about how I was poor company or teasing me for not being as strong. I wasn’t surprised or impressed. No one could tear me down like I could.

  I asked to go see Akinli again. I was denied.

  Please? I don’t want to do anything bad. I just want to see how he’s doing; I can’t stand not knowing.

  She said to be more patient. It was foolish of me to think that a few months would change the entire course of his life.

  Why not? A few days changed the course of mine! I could list them if You’d like; You were there for quite a few. Some of the more dramatic ones at least.

  She insisted that I was the dramatic one. I was to pull myself together. She couldn’t take my moping around anymore. She missed who I had been. I used to be full of questions and life, and now I seemed empty.

  I wouldn’t be empty if I could just see him! That’s all. For goodness sake, let me just poke my head out of the water and see his expression and then take me away. Ten seconds. Anything!

  No. If I worked hard and got myself straight, She would happily let me visit in a few years.

  A few years? Damn it!

  February passed.

  The girls hadn’t had their fill of Paris yet, but I was ready to burst. The sights and sounds were overwhelming. I knew they were eyeing me all the time, worrying about my detached behavior. It took all of my brain power to come up with the idea of us taking a Valentine’s Day trip.

  Love was on my mind, but if I had been anywhere close to candy hearts and roses, I would have exploded. I told the girls they were my Valentines and that we should get away together. They thought that was sweet. It was by far the friendliest thing I had said in a while.