SIREN STITCH

The words resounded in my ears whether I was asleep or awake. I was becoming more like them. Them? No matter how much I lied to myself, I knew I didn't want to be a land-dweller and I felt bad for feeling that way. Maybe it was this curse of longing; it remained while everything that made me a siren dissipated. I did not lie when I told Carle I had not used my voice since the exile. I had found no need to. Though if they did put me in a foster home or if Mr Silvan hadn't taken me in, a reason for using my siren may have arisen. As I was, I felt free but with the arrival of Carle, the narrative in my head was getting muddled. So, it was an internal battle whether to go see him by the beach again.

For the following two days, I expended all my hours at the tent helping Mr Silvan. I did not fo any trash picking and cut corners whenever I had to deliver shellfish to Mr Landon's and other shacks. Carle would eventually have to leave by the end of spring and I would pretend to have never met another siren.

By the week's end, I had not laid eyes on Carle. I thought it'd be good for me but was finding it difficult to sleep. I always wanted answers and now in the face of those answers, I squirmed away. It was Saturday and the vacationers were lining mattresses out of condos to tie on the roofs of their trucks. Cars were pregnant with used beach items and souvenirs from local stores. I feared Carle had gone upon my distrustful sentiment. I walked around watching people wave their goodbyes while I tried to make out Carle's cold features. It was why I was drawn to him firstly; he felt colder than those around him. And being a siren, I must have shared that sort of coldness. Now in this crowd, there was nothing cold about anything. I never bothered to ask Carle where he stayed so I was totally lost. After a grandstanding failure, I trudged back home. I had work to do anyway. Sunday was the monthly local fair for our town. Mr Silvan was out fishing and I needed to take our parasol to the outdoor market place and drop some empty crates in preparation for the next day. I also needed to buy some food wrappings as Mr Silvan was going to be cooking that night for the fair.

My mind had shifted to these my responsibilities on the road home. Nevertheless, when I looked up, I saw him standing there. Carle. He may have had a thing for leaving the buttons of his shirt unclasped. His rested on the banister leading to the door and eyed me as I stood there a tad surprised.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as I approached. "How did you find this place?"

"It doesn't matter. If you want me to leave, I will leave." He drew nearer. "And... I will not return, Yara."

That paused me.

"But if you want me to stay, I will tell you of the many things you have lost. We have both lost. It's your decision."

"I want you to stay."

He failed to hide his smile. "I am in a hurry. I have to sort out my father. But we meet to tomorrow." He began walking off.

"I'll be busy to tomorrow," I called from behind him.

"Then on Monday!" He shouted back.

"Don't come here again!" I bellowed. "I don't want Mr Silvan seeing you!"

"Okay! Okay!"

I got out the crates, bought the food wrappers and set up for the fair. Mr Silvan was busy the night and as much as I hated being close to fires, I did my best to help him. I broke the mandibles off a bucket of crabs and passed them on to Mr Silvan to steam. I peeled the prawns and cleaned the clams in salt. I did not gut the fish. I never gutted the fish and Mr Silvan never asked me to. Dylan's grandmother came late that evening with even more supplies and did a fair bit of cooking herself. I once went to her sedan to get aprons and mittens she had crocheted for the fair.

Sunday came quicker than I expected. The square was filled with remnants of the previous day. I knew the local faces from their familiarity with the monthly fair. Discount tags were hanged on awnings, ice-cream men in costumes rode around in bicycles, Miss Avril played her cello at her corner and children huddled around game shops close by. And me, I sold food packs and stashed the cash safely in a drawer.

Dylan was his usual self. He ranted about some school work he wouldn't possibly finish before the weekend was over. During our break, we had a go at the balloon darts—a game I was not so good in. Dylan came out as victor of course and won a fluff of candy that we both shared. The day eventually came to an end. Dylan's grandmother dropped us over at our house. I was tired and slept early that evening in anticipation of the following day with Carle.

I was the freest I ever was after every town fairs. Mr Silvan usually took a day or two off so I was mostly left to my own means. Mr Silvan had a rickety bicycle that I rode around on these days but I had messed up the chains not two months after I began riding around in it. I wondered what Carle wanted to teach me but whatever it was, I wasn't going to be cajoled to use my siren. I did not have the mind to compel land-dwellers on what or what not to do. The knowledge that my voice could enchant was somehow not lost just like how I retained the knowledge of once having a tail. Whoever did this to us did so in order for us to feel the acute sense of loss. I met up with Carle beside a closed cafe.

"You did not dress up for swimming," he remarked.

"Swimming?"

"You are from the underworld. Once upon a time swimming was your whole life."

"I am definitely not swimming."

"You are."

"Aren't you scared of something happening?"

"What could happen to us? Don't underestimate yourself, Yara. Let's go."

I followed after him and as we turned corners. I knew the houses by heart. Except he had a pool in his residence there were barely any other places to swim. In fact, we were straying to the heart of town but Carle knew this as he continued on his way confidently.

"You know I know this town more than you? And there is no better place to swim than in the ocean. Where are we going?"

"I want us to make a stop somewhere."

"Where?"

"Somwhere."

"Where?" I stopped on my tracks. I was not afraid but I was careful. More careful than I was with cat-calls, more careful than I was when those boys hailed at me with slurs. Carle was a fellow siren. No he was a better one. He revelled in what he was capable of doing.

"You don't think I would ever harm you?" Carle asked, peering at me. "Or deceive you?"

I did not respond.

"God, I would never hurt you, Yara. It pains me that you don't trust me by now."

"You aren't telling me the whole thing."

"That is what I am trying to do. Isn't that why you said I should stay behind? You'll get to know everything Yara. But it's not something that I can tell you over a plate of biscuits. You have to see some things. Experience some things yourself. " He closed in, took my two hands in his and pressed them with a kind of reassurance.

"I'll say where we are going if you truly want to know. Can I tell you while we walk?"

"We'll walk but answer me this. Can a siren command another siren? Are you compelling me?"

Carle let go of my hand. "You are a very cautious person, Yara. And that is a good trait on any siren. Try it. Use your voice on me and see for yourself. I will let you know in advance that you'll be wasting your time. It won't work on me."

The contact lenses over his eyes stopped me from seeing the red in them. I searched for the candour in those eyes notwithstanding and judged that he was being honest.

"I believe you," I said weakly.

We continued on our way and as we walked he said, "I learned of some fishing expedition that one rich tramp is planning to embark on a few weeks from now. An expedition for a marlin. He's not around so I plan to destroy his boat."

"You care about fishes?" I asked, genuinely surprised.

"We are half-fish."

"I know," I said guiltily.

Carle did not seem bothered to ask about my diet. He only said, "It's okay to eat the smaller ones. We probably ate the smaller ones in the underworld. But not the big ones. Not whales or dolphins or the great whites. The big ones are just like us."

"I have a land-dweller friend who always clarifies that whales and dolphins are mammals not fishes. Basically, says that whales are closer to land-dwellers than they are to us," I grinned remembering Dylan's little facts.

Carle did not find it amusing; he only forged ahead. I recalled him saying that he had to hunt when he was stuck on that island after his banishment. He probably had to kill and eat fish.

"I don't gut the fish I eat, if that counts for anything."

Carle had stronger feelings on the issue for sure. I did not find myself particularly disturbed hearing someone planned to hunt down fish for fun. But with Carle being so affected by it, I felt like I was meant to also.

We reached a path of dead leaves. A path I had cycled by before but never bothered to encroach. This was a dirt path along 14 Bloomreich Ave. There was a house at the end of it with an off road vehicle draped in a polyester car cloth at the side.

Carle and I were quiet going in. No one seemed to be around and the wooden duplex looked close to abandoned. We went round back to find the door already unlocked.

"Have you been here before?"

Carle nodded.

We paced by the mud room and stopped in front a fortified door.

"Do you have a key?" I asked him.

Carle only raised an arm and before my very eyes transmuted it into something monstrous.His wrist was ocean blue and scaly and his finger became crooked black claws. Sharp at the joints, well polished and disproportionate in size to the rest of his body.

I gasped and took some steps back.

"This is what we once were, Yara. This is what we are losing. This is one of the many things I want to show you."

He slashed the door with the hand and a heavy chunk was lopped out. Two more times and the door came down. I did not follow him in but I watched while he slashed the fishing boat to bits. It was mounted on a boat trailer and when Carle was done with it, it became an unrecognizable piece of metal.

"Let's go, Yara."

I did not move. I was planted there taking in what Carle had done. His hand was back to normal now. He took me by the wrist and hurled me out of the place. No words were said until we reached the coast where Carle's speedboat was moored.

"You have to get over yourself, Yara. This is what we are? What did you expect? We are humanoid like the land-dwellers but we don't look anything alike. We have scales, Yara. Scales. Your eyes are scarlet. Your hair is violet." Carle took me by my shoulders and shook me back to reality.

"What else? Tell me everything now! What else can we do? No more surprises."

"We swim really really well. That's everything, I promise. That's what I want to show you. Please, allow me."

Carle waded through the water till it reached up to his stomach. He climbed the boat and threw me a wetsuit. "Wear that." Then he turned away to wear his. I stripped down from my own cloths and quickly slipped on the wetsuit. It was fitting, skin-tight, free to move in.

"Are you done?" Carle asked.

"Yes."

The water felt warm against my shin. Carle helped me up into the boat. He ignited the engine and we rode far into horizon. We exchanged no words throughout the journey. My eyes were fixed on the water. My thoughts on what my true form looked like.

When Carle killed the engine we were in the middle of nowhere. He stood, clambered onto the bow and jumped into the water. For a good minute, the waters were still; he had not come up. Then there was a rush of water, first, circling the boat, then going far ahead and reeling back. A roar of glass water was spat out from the whirlpool that was starting to form. And in that slippery arc was Carle, beautiful against the sun, frigidly radiant. He dipped into the ocean again and breached the water in another perfect arc. I saw at last what accompanied him. The land-dwellers termed it The Blue Whale.