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Siren's Call Part 1By Sandra Tayler
Jenna stood at the gate, studying the house of Abigail Hastings and trying to muster the energy to walk up one more hill. Three days of walking and bus stations and long rides had brought Jenna to this gate; to what she hoped would be her haven. Jenna stared at the house trying to discern qualities of its owner by the state of the lane and the yard. Currently the yard held a mix of ornamental plants and weeds that suggested the owner sometimes cared for the house, but hadn’t done much with it lately. Jenna was not sure that this information at all helped. She needed to understand, Abigail Hastings was her grandmother and Jenna had not seen her for more than 15 years.
Brendan shifted against Jenna’s shoulder. The walk from the station had been too long for his three-year-old legs. Jenna had carried him much of the way. He’d fallen asleep on the trek and now was a limp weight in Jenna’s tired arms. She hitched him higher on her shoulder and shifted her grip on the gym bag in her hand. Jenna couldn’t lose the bag. It contained every possession she had left. Jenna felt a momentary pang for innumerable things she’d left behind, but she couldn’t carry them all. Most of the space in the bag was for Brendan’s things. He needed security more than she did.
Jenna took a deep breath and began walking up the path. She could almost walk without limping now. The salty tang of the air was strange to someone born and raised in the desert. Jenna wasn’t sure she liked it. She shivered in the chilly ocean breeze. The not-so-distant waves crashed on the rocky beach beyond the house.
Jenna knocked on the front door, hoping--and fearing-- that Gran would be home. The woman who answered the door was too old. Her hair was solid silver grey and frizzy in a way that suggested that the woman hadn’t bothered to brush it today. Everything about the woman’s posture spoke of wariness. The Gran she remembered had not been so thin or wrinkled or angry. But the shape of this woman’s face resembled Jenna’s father. The address was right; surely this must be Gran.
“Mrs. Hastings? It’s me, Jenna--your granddaughter?” She offered tentatively to the unwelcoming old lady. For a moment Jenna expected to be turned away. Then the lines of the woman’s face softened and she spoke.
“Jenna?” The old woman peered at her and then her face lit into a disbelieving smile. The smile changed Gran’s face completely. Suddenly she was no longer an angry old lady, but the Gran that Jenna remembered from childhood.
“I never expected to see you here!” Gran rasped.
“Can I come in? I need to sit down before I drop things.”
The wariness returned. Gran’s eyes flicked to Brendan, then away over her shoulder. Gran looked back to Jenna’s face and the wariness dissipated again. Gran opened the screen door wide.
“Of course. Right this way.” Jenna went almost limp from relief. Or maybe it was exhaustion. She entered the small parlor, dropped her bag on the floor, and sank gratefully into a chair. Brendan stirred against her shoulder, but did not wake.
Gran followed her into the room. “Is that your little boy? I can’t believe you’re old enough to have kids! You were still a little thing when I last saw you! What is your boy’s name?”
Gran’s voice washed over Jenna’s exhaustion with an almost physical sensation. It was an echo from her childhood. Even the smell of the room breathed of safer places and happier times. A tear crept from the corner of Jenna’s eye. Just three days ago she’d watched Jay leave for his work shift, knowing she would be gone before he got back. Jenna let the tear trail down her cheek and just hugged her son tighter.
“Brendan, his name is Brendan.”
Gran’s eyes narrowed. “Are you alright? You look…tired.”
Jenna burst into laughter, but once loosed, the emotion turned into sobbing. She held Brendan tight and cried into his not-so-clean hair. She was aware that Gran was standing close, then felt Gran’s arms wrap around her. There was awkwardness to Gran’s movement. As if hugging was something she’d forgotten how to do. The three of them stayed like that for a long time, while three days--and years before that-- worth of grief and pain poured itself out of Jenna’s soul.
It was less than an hour later that Jenna and Gran sat together at Gran’s kitchen table. Brendan had been laid down on a bed to sleep and Jenna was finally able to stretch her aching muscles. She’d even taken a few minutes to wash her face in the bathroom. The dark circles under her eyes were harldy surprising, but the effect was startling. Jenna knew she’d seen the gaunt look of her face before and for a moment couldn’t figure out where. I look like a refugee. Jenna had shuddered and turned away from the mirror, but the thought stayed with her even as she sat at the cluttered table drinking herbal tea. The tea wafted a soothing warm smell toward Jenna’s face. She longed to just soak up the comfort of sitting, knowing she was safe, but explanations had to come sometime.
“Brendan and I need a place to stay for awhile.”
“That much I had gathered.”
“May we stay with you please? I’ll work around the house to earn our keep and I’ll get a job as soon as I can so I can save money for an apartment. We won’t be here for long.” Jenna knew she was imposing and begging both, but had no other choices.
Gran was staring out the window toward the rocky beach. Waves crashed there, but it was far enough away that the noise fell into the background. The moment stretched and Gran turned to study Jenna’s face. Jenna did not know what Gran was seeking, but her stomach clenched at the uncertainty.
“You can stay as long as you need to. I just worry about your little boy getting out and to that ocean.”
Jenna blew out a breath that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. She babbled in relief .
“Oh thank you! We’ll be no trouble! We can put in child locks and latches so that Brendan can’t get out and can’t get into your things. They have so many childproofing things available now. … but I’m about out of money until I get a job.”
At the mention of latches some tension went out of Gran’s shoulders.
“That would be good. That ocean seems to call to boys and I worry…” Gran shivered just a little. “Never you mind about the money. You’re my guest until you’ve got your feet under you again. I’ve got more money than I can use anyway, ever since your grandpa died. I thought he was so silly getting that big insurance policy, but it’s taken care of me for nigh on thirty years now. We’ll go shopping as soon as your boy wakes up. You can’t have many clothes in that little bag. What happened that you had to come so far with so little?”
Now Jenna was the one staring out the window. She tried to think how to explain to a woman who’d been happily married and grievously widowed what it was like to be married to Jay. It had been a whirlwind romance; once she’d met Jay no one else even mattered. He’d felt the same way. She’d thought it was sweet the way he was jealous when she spent time with friends. Then sweet had faded to unpleasant. Then to ugly. Jay was the most wonderful, considerate, loving person imaginable when he wasn’t jealous or angry.
She remembered so clearly the first time he’d hit her. She’d been ready to leave for a night out. He hadn’t wanted her to go. In his anger he’d struck out. His contrition had been real. It always was. He was always sorry. He’d promised to go to counseling. He’d cried so hard and needed her so much that she’d stayed home to be with him. Tears had done what anger could not. He’d gone to counseling and things were wonderful, until the next time.
Tears rolled down Jenna’s cheeks again. Her body still ached from bruises. She never wanted to see Jay again, and she missed him. Brendan would miss his daddy terribly. Jenna realized she had been silent too long. Gran was still waiting patiently for her to find words. It all seemed too complex. A simple answer was best.
“I…needed to get away.” Jenna was pleased with her incomplete truth, but Gran fixed her with an intense gaze and asked
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yes. Why did you need to get away?”
Jenna’s throat closed as she tried to find words. The freeze only ended when Jenna realized her lungs ached for air. She’d been holding her breath again. She’d noticed herself doing that a lot these past few days. She was like some small forest creature trying to hide from a predator.
“I need to hide.”
“Hide?”
Jenna bit her tongue in frustration. Why had she said ‘hide?’ It was an answer that begged for the question ‘from whom?’ The frustration made Jenna’s next statement more curt than she would otherwise have intended.
“Look, I just need a place to stay for a few days while I sort some things out.”
Gran looked at Jenna shrewdly with eyes that saw far too much. Jenna shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Gran lifted her cup and sipped before commenting.
“You’ve come an awful long way for ‘just a few days.’”
Jenna was unsure how to answer that. Gran was right. ‘Just a few days’ didn’t make any sense, particularly when she’d already talked of needing to get a job and an apartment.
“It might be longer than a few days.” She conceded.
Gran nodded acceptance. They sat in silence for a while sipping tea. Jenna was just beginning to relax when Gran spoke again.
“Who are you hiding from?”
Jenna tensed internally, but tried to appear calm. She waved a hand airily and said “No one. I don’t know why that slipped out.”
Gran fixed Jenna with an eagle eye.
“Words that ‘just slip out’ tell truer tales than careful words do. Who are you hiding from?”
Jenna stared at the old woman across the table. The sharp brown eyes were contrasted with the frizzy hair and the hearing aids. Someone so worn shouldn’t be so smart. She didn’t remember her Gran being this forceful or sharp-witted. Mostly Jenna had hazy memories of a loving figure who laughed and was soft to hug. She thought of the awkward arm around her earlier. This woman was anything but soft and Jenna had a hard time picturing her laughing. Yet, she was obviously the same woman. Who was this queer doppelganger of the Gran she had known?
“I…” the answer stuck in Jenna’s throat and she sat for a moment with her mouth open trying to find words to say.
“If you’re hiding from the police, I have a right to know.”
“No!” Jenna gasped in shocked denial. “Nothing like that!” She took a deep breath, lay her hands out flat on the table. They framed her mug of tea. She studied them so she wouldn’t have to think about her words.
“It’s Jay. My husband Jay.” Jenna took a deep breath and put it all into one sentence. “I’m hiding from my husband Jay.”
Gran nodded again and put her mug down.
“Will he try to get you back?”
Jenna moved her fingers carefully so that they were evenly spaced.
“Probably.”
“I’ll have a word with Sheriff Roberts. Let him know we might have a wife beater in town.”
The words startled Jenna into meeting Gran’s eyes. Jenna’s thoughts whirled and snagged on the words “wife beater.” Was that Jay? Wife beaters were drunken cussing louts. Jay never drank. He never swore. Jay needed help, she knew that, but he wasn’t a wife beater.
“Jay gets angry sometimes, but he’s no wife beater.” Jenna challenged.
“Hmm,” Gran didn’t argue in words, but disbelief shone in her eyes. Gran reached across the table and ran one finger across Jenna’s forearm. Jenna looked and saw the yellow remnants of a set of bruises. They were still obviously in the shape of a man-sized hand. Jenna twitched her arm away under the table where the bruises were out of sight.
Jenna glanced fearfully at Gran, but Gran had looked away and was staring out the window again. After a moment Gran looked back and said. “You’ll want a lawyer. I know one who might do.”
“Lawyer?”
“Well you ain’t planning on going back are you?”
The very thought made Jenna’s breath seize up.
“No.” She gasped out. “I can’t.”
“Then you’ll need help so the law can’t take your boy.”
Jenna stared at Gran in shock. “I haven’t thought that far, I was just trying to get away. How do you know all this stuff?”
“I may be old, but I’m not an idiot. I watch TV. I read books. I guess my morbid curiosity will do some good after all.” Gran paused a moment before quietly adding. “And I’ve seen this before.”
A sound from up the hall alerted the two women that Brendan had awakened. Jenna jumped up from the table, relieved for the excuse to escape the intense conversation.
“Let me introduce you to Brendan.”
The two women walked down the hall together to the bedroom where Brendan had been sleeping. Brendan had slid off the bed and was now sitting by the window.
“Mommy, there’s a lady on the rocks.” Brendan said as he turned to watch their entrance. Jenna crossed to the window where Brendan was sitting. Out the window was a not too distant view of a rocky beach where waves crashed against stone.
“There’s no one out there Brendan.”
“She wants to play with me.”
A hiss of indrawn breath made Jenna turn around. Gran was standing in the doorway as white as if she’d seen a ghost.
“Gran? Are you alright?”
Gran jerked at the sound of Jenna’s voice and visibly tried to gather herself.
“I’m fine.”
Jenna performed the introductions “Brendan, this is your Great Grandma. She’s Grandpa’s mommy.” Brendan’s brown eyes studied this new person carefully. Jenna realized that his eye color matched Gran’s exactly. Gran sat down next to Brendan on the window seat.
“Hi Brendan. It’s nice to meet you.” Gran held out her hand awkwardly. Brendan recoiled and ran to Jenna. She scooped him up and held him. Safe in his mother’s arms, he peeked at his new found relative. Gran shivered and turned from the window. Jenna tried to smooth the awkward beginning
“Brendan, you and I will be staying with Great Gran for awhile.”
“Will I sleep here?”
“No,” Gran answered “There’s a room on the other side of the house. I use it for storage, but it has a bed that your mom can use. We can make a bed for you on the floor.”
“Can I see?”
“Of course.” Gran stood and then paused. “Brendan, my house has a rule. You never go down to the ocean without me or your mom.” Gran beckoned Jenna to the window. Jenna carried Brendan close so he could see while Gran continuted “You see those waves crash? They are dangerous. They can hurt you. You understand me?”
Brendan nodded solemnly and touched the window with a small hand. “Will Lady be okay?”
Gran took a moment to answer. “Yes honey, she lives in the waves.” Jenna was impressed with Gran’s deadpan answer to Brendan’s imaginary friend. Gran creaked to her feet and asked “Do you feel up to some shopping? We need to get those clothes and those child locks.”
The shopping trip was not what Jenna expected. Gran lived in a small town. It had no big department stores. Rather than child locks, they bought latches from a hardware store. Gran bought more latches than Jenna felt were necessary, but if a pile of latches let them stay, then Gran could have all the latches she wanted.
Next they went to the small JC Penny’s store. It didn’t offer much of a clothing selection, but they selected enough to get by. They could order more from the hefty catalog. They also hauled home a pile of new toys. Jenna tried to protest, but Gran asserted a grandmotherly right to spoil her descendants. Jenna didn’t argue much because the toys brought joy and interest to Brendan’s face. The last few days had bewildered him. Keeping a three-year-old entertained on a bus with only a stuffed dog and three books had taxed them both. Jenna still wasn’t sure how to answer Brendan’s requests to “go home now.” She usually dodged the question by distracting him. A trip to a local burger place finished the long shopping trip perfectly.
The first thing Gran did after arriving home was install the locks. Brendan had fallen asleep on the drive home and Gran dismissed Jenna’s offer to help, so Jenna was at loose ends. She wandered through the house looking around. None of the furnishings or objects were familiar. Jenna had never been to this house before. Gran had always come to visit them in Arizona. Jenna’s aimless meander ended in what was apparently Gran’s hobby room. Several shelves were filled with painting supplies. A few framed paintings adorned the walls. Gran seemed to favor rocky beaches as subject matter. Some of Gran’s waves were quite good. The swirls held Jenna’s eyes for a moment.
The current project seemed to be pottery, or at least something involving the large lumps of clay which covered the work table and several more shelves. The remaining shelves were full of books. Gran really was a reader. Jenna ran her fingers along the spines, reading titles. They seemed mostly to be biographies and mythologies with a smattering of just about everything else.
Jenna’s eyes paused on what appeared to be a thick scrapbook. Jenna pulled it from the shelf wondering if she’d find pictures of her childhood self within. On the first page was a newspaper clipping about the death of Gran’s husband, Alan Hastings. Jenna had never known anything about her grandfather, except that her dad spoke of him fondly. She’d assumed he died from a medical condition of some sort. The article detailing his suicide on a rocky beach near the house was a surprise. Jenna turned the page to see if it contained more information. The next thing was not a clipping, but a photocopied article on the animistic beliefs of ancient peoples. The margins of the article were filled with handwritten notes. Sections of text were underlined and annotated in a scrawling handwriting. The next page was a fragment of a scholarly article about The Odyssey, discussing Odysseus’ encounter with the sirens. The rest of the book was similarly filled. Jenna smirked at the oddity of keeping such a personal newspaper clipping with other studies. Perhaps Gran merely shoved all her clippings into this one binder. Toward the end of the book Jenna found more newspaper articles. A chill went down Jenna’s spine. They were all articles about deaths or suicides on beaches. Page after page, they were all compulsively annotated.
Jenna peered more closely at the notes in the margins of one particular article. It detailed the accidental death of a mine worker on a local rocky beach. According to the article, the man had been despondent about the illness of his wife. The authorities believed it was suicide. “She strikes again!” proclaimed the margins. Followed by: “Other sources say not despondent. Loved wife, lived to care for her.” Then further down “She calls to sadness, emptiness, longing.”
Jenna was staring, disturbed, at this last note when Gran walked into the room. Gran stopped cold upon seeing which book Jenna was looking at. Jenna stepped back from the book, suddenly aware of having intruded into a private space.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I thought it was a picture album.”
Gran silently stepped forward and shut the book. She carefully reshelved it and turned back to Jenna.
“It won’t take you long to figure that I believe things most folks don’t. It’s one of the things that your dad and I fought over.”
Jenna felt supremely uncomfortable. All the articles about animism, forces of nature, and sirens were far outside her realm of experience. Surely Gran couldn’t be serious about these things.
“So you believe all trees have spirits and sirens lure men to their deaths?”
“I don’t know about tree spirits, but I do believe in one siren. She’s down on yonder beach. She killed my husband. And now she’s calling to your boy.”
Jenna gaped. “You must be joking.”
Gran continued “We can’t let Brendan near the ocean. Think me crazy if you want, but that rule must stand if you’re to stay here.” Jenna felt riveted by Gran’s stern gaze. After the emphatic pause, Gran continued. “Folk in town are sure I’m off my rocker. Fine with me, long as it keeps them off that beach.”
Gran sighed and rubbed her face. “It’s late and you’ve had a long day. Let me get those extra blankets for your room.”
Jenna rolled over in bed and squeezed her eyes shut against the relentless sunshine. The oblivion of sleep did not return and Jenna hauled herself out of bed to avoid a return to the same thoughts that had kept her awake far into the night. She didn’t understand how she could miss Jay and fear him simultaneously. Swirling between the two emotions was utterly confusing. Jenna noted that Brendan’s bed was empty. She could hear his voice down the hall mixed with the clinking of dishes. Gran must have gotten Brendan breakfast again. Jenna felt a pang of guilt for dumping so much of Brendan’s care onto Gran during the past two days. It was such a relief to be in a place where she didn’t have to be in charge. Jenna wandered down the hall to join the noises in the kitchen.
‘Morning,” called Gran from the table. Brendan glanced up at Jenna, then returned his focus to his vigorous stirring and the story he was relating. He would never eat his oatmeal until he had stirred it all up. Jenna didn’t argue with a habit that had him eating oatmeal. Jenna tried to decipher the story Brendan was telling while she fixed herself some oatmeal. Brendan was babbling about a cartoon show that he’d seen yesterday. He was particularly fascinated by an explosion of some kind. Since Jenna hadn’t seen the show, most of his disjointed account didn’t make sense. She was able to gather that it was a robot that had exploded.
Brendan’s chatter stopped abruptly. Jenna turned to see that Brendan had stopped stirring and was now concentrated on eating as fast as humanly possible. Gran sat and watched him with a bemused look on her face. Jenna was unsure if the bemusement was at the chatter, or at its sudden end. Brendan had turned Gran’s solitary world upside down. Gran claimed she didn’t mind. But a couple of times Gran had retreated to her hobby room and shut the door. When that happened, Jenna was careful to keep Brendan quiet for awhile. She didn’t want Gran to get weary of them.
Jenna sat down at the table just as Brendan shoved his empty bowl away and ran from the room. A blare of noise from the TV announced that he’d turned on cartoons.
Jenna smiled politely. “I hope he didn’t wear you out.”
“I don’t mind. How did you sleep?” Gran asked.
“Not well. I feel like I’ve been walking through fog and I can’t shake it out of my head.”
Gran nodded. “Feeling better today?”
“A little bit.” Jenna conceded, then realized it was true. She wanted to be doing something rather than retreating to her bed. “Sorry I’ve been so useless.”
Gran made a comforting noise and waved her hand as she swallowed. “I like Brendan. I’d forgotten how much fun a grandchild can be. You needed the rest. You’ve walked a long dark road.”
Jenna used her polite smile again “Well it all gets better from here, right?”
“I doubt it.”
Jenna’s spoonful of oatmeal arrested on it’s way to her mouth. She’d thought they were just making breakfast conversation.
“What?”
“I just don’t want you to count on smooth sailing ahead. You’ve got a hard haul before you can really move up.”
“Well yes. I doubt getting divorced will be a piece of cake, but I’ve been through worse.” Jenna didn’t want to talk about this now. She just wanted to eat her oatmeal and enjoy the sunshine. Emotionally wrangling conversations shouldn’t be allowed at breakfast.
Gran put her cup down and pinned Jenna with her eyes. “Divorce is only part of it and you know it. You’ve been in a very dark place for a long time. That dark has sunk into your soul. You’re going to have to dig it out before things get better. When you’re ready I know a good therapist you can see. I also have the number of that divorce lawyer.”
“I’ll take the lawyer’s number.” Jenna got up and scooped the rest of the oatmeal into the trash. She wasn’t hungry anymore.
After a shower Jenna felt settled enough to call the lawyer. She was surprised that he spoke with her right away. She’d expected to have to make an appointment with a receptionist. Gran kept Brendan busy while Jenna spoke, so she had a quiet space to really concentrate. The conversation was a long one. She emerged from it with a headache and several pages of notes. She continued writing and thinking until interrupted by the entrance of Gran and a clay-smeared Brendan. Jenna scooped Brendan into a hug. He hugged her back and played with her hair the way he used to do when he was littler. After a momentary revel in the warmth and littleness of him, Jenna loosened her grip.
She looked at Brendan’s face and asked: “What have you been doing?”
Brendan’s eyebrows creased as he thought seriously about this question.
“I maked po-twy.”
Gran added “He did a good job too. We put his little bowl on the shelf to dry. He has a feel for the clay.”
Jenna smiled at Gran. “It’s like making mud pies inside the house; what’s not to like?”
Brendan tapped on Jenna’s arm to get her attention and announced, “You talked long.”
“Yes I did, but I’m done now.”
“You done. We have pizza!”
Jenna laughed and looked up at Gran for an explanation.
“I promised that once you got off the phone we’d cook the pizza in the freezer.”
“Well, we’d better keep that promise.”
The pizza was baked with dispatch and consumed with relish. The three of them lingered at the table picking at the remains. Brendan seemed content to snuggle in Jenna’s lap while she spoke to Gran about the lawyer’s advice.
“I’m going to have to sue for sole custody. Mr. King said custody suits could take years.”
“You don’t want to let Jay visit?”
“No.” Jenna glanced at Brendan, uncertain how much to say in front of her son. But he was lost in thought, so she continued. “I don’t want Brendan to learn to be like him. I could already see it starting. Brendan would sass me and look to him for approval. They both thought it was funny. That was when I knew I had to leave. Now I have a list of things the lawyer says I should do to improve my chances for sole custody. Like get a job and get my own apartment.”
Gran thought for a moment. “There ain’t many apartments around here, but there is a trailer park on the other side of town. You want to stay here? You could stay with your folks.”
“No!” Jenna was startled by the vehemence of her reply.
“Jenna, your family would keep him away from you.”
The air felt suffocating to Jenna. “No. I can’t let him find me.”
Gran paused for a moment and then let the matter drop.
“I’ll call about those trailers.”
“Can’t I just stay here?” The words were out before Jenna could consider them. She sounded like a child and knew it, but was loath to leave this safe place she had found.
Gran’s eyes fixed on Brendan who was nodding to sleep in Jenna’s lap. The crashing of the waves on the not-so-distant rocks and Gran’s belief in the siren filled the silence of the room. Only the day before, Brendan had disappeared into the bathroom and Gran had nearly panicked until they found him.
Gran broke the silence. “You can stay here for awhile, but it won’t be good for your boy to stay near that beach long.”
Jenna waved away this concern in her need to secure this safe haven.
“We have the latches installed and we’ll watch him. I think having family support will help me in court.”
“Did the lawyer say that?”
“Yes.”
“But he also said you should get an apartment.”
“I will. I promise. I won’t be here forever.” Jenna paused, her eyes pleading. “I just can’t think that far ahead right now.”
Gran studied Jenna’s face, then shrugged assent.
“There’s time enough. I like having you both here. I just worry.”
Jenna almost babbled in relief,
“Really? I thought you didn’t like kids. I thought that’s why you never visited. Dad said it was.”
Gran looked away and the silence stretched for a moment. Jenna kicked herself for disturbing this painful bit of history. It didn’t matter. She didn’t really want to know. Gran looked back at Jenna and smiled wistfully with pain filled eyes. “Your dad and I …disagreed about your grandpa’s death. Every visit we’d fight. After a while…I gave up coming. Seemed easier. Now I see how much I missed.”
A knot of pain Jenna hadn’t even known existed uncurled inside her. Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. Words spilled out too. “I thought you didn’t like us. I was so scared to come here because of that, but I had nowhere else to go.”
Gran’s face softened and tears rolled down her face as well. “Oh honey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to abandon you. I should have kept coming even if it meant fights.”
Jenna sniffled then straightened and attempted to regain her composure. Bits of information clicked together in her head.
“Dad thought Grandpa committed suicide and you…believe in a siren.”
Gran studied her fingers picking at the table cloth. “That’s right.”
Jenna desperately wanted to understand. She wanted to reconcile the loving figure from her childhood, with the woman who fought with her father, with the woman who sat across from her at the table. “You really believe in a siren? A woman who sings men to their deaths?”
Gran searched Jenna’s face before answering, seeking…what? “She was a woman once, but now she’s a force of nature. Don’t know how it happens, some people are so angry and sad that it stays when they die. The feelings become a…being, a creature. This siren feeds on longing, anger, and death or she will fade away. So she calls to people. This one calls only to men, but other sirens are less picky.”
“Other sirens?”
“Yes. I’m not the only one who knows them.” Gran glanced up from the tablecloth thread her fingers were picking at. “It took me years to find like-minded people and it took me years more to find out who she was.”
“Who she was? You know who became the siren?”
“Yes. Or I think I do. The timing is right. There is a story of a young woman named May. She was an ugly girl, mistreated by her drunken father and brothers. She turned to other men and was knocked up. When her kin discovered that she was expecting they felt she had dishonored her family. They threw her into the rocky surf to die. It all took place when this was a mining town a hundred years ago. Locals are still a little spooked by my rocky beach. They tell ghost stories, but they don’t believe.”
“But you do.”
“Yes. Your grandpa was a good man. He was happy. We were happy. We lived here for two years and that happiness kept us safe. Then we got a phone call. Your grandpa’s brother died suddenly. Your grandpa took a walk on the beach to think. He never came back. Suicide! He would never have killed himself. She got to him. She pulled on his grief over his brother’s death and took him from me.” Gran’s hands now clutched the tablecloth in bunches. She noticed and quickly let go. Then she carefully smoothed out the wrinkles. Her face smoothed as well. Jenna felt a need to respond in some way to this unexpected vehemence from her Gran.
“You hate her.”
“No. Yes. Both I guess. There’s no point being angry. She can’t help it. Nothing can give Alan back to me.”
It was too much. Jenna straightened her back and shook her head a little. Gran noticed the withdrawal and sat back herself. “I’m sorry. I do get a little nutty about this. You don’t have to believe in it.” Gran nodded her head at Brendan asleep in Jenna’s lap. “You’d better put your little one down for a nap.”
Jenna was relieved for the chance to escape. Her thoughts swam as she carried Brendan to their bedroom and bent to lay him on his bed. Gran’s story was mesmerizing, but then ghost stories usually were. Jenna shuddered to think of Gran living for within sight of the spot where her husband had died. Jenna considered leaving, living with the town crazylady wouldn’t be good for a custody battle, but quickly ran up against the wall of Nowhere Else To Go. Besides, it seemed wrong to abandon Gran to the solitude of this house.
As Jenna bent to lay Brendan in bed, she noticed that his clothes were smeared with dried bits of clay. Reluctant to put him into bed so dirty, Jenna gently began changing him into clean clothes. Brendan roused during this process and spoke.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“The Lady was sad. Gran not let me play.” Jenna, absorbed with thoughts of custody battles, crazy old ladies, and with trying to maneuver a small arm into a seemingly even smaller sleeve, only half heard Brendan’s sleepy words.
“What?”
“Lady wants to play with me. Gran said no.” The words registered. A chill went down Jenna’s spine. She tried to tell herself she was silly and respond calmly.
“Well I’m glad you obeyed Gran. It’s time to sleep now. We can talk about it after your nap.” Brendan obligingly climbed into his bed and cuddled up. He was asleep almost immediately.
Jenna considered going to ask Gran what Brendan was talking about. Obviously there had been some sort of incident during her conversation with the lawyer. Just now Jenna did not want another complicated conversation. Her head already felt too full.
Siren's Call Part 2 |
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