by Jody Morse
Carrie turned and looked at me with an almost helpless look on her face, and I said, “Scarlett, Jasmine, and Gabby—this is my best friend, Carrie.”
“Hi,” Gabby said sweetly as Jasmine stared her up and down.
I felt Scarlett’s eyes flit over at me, and I knew what she was thinking—that it was awkward that I hadn’t introduced her to Carrie as my sister. But how was I supposed to just tell her that I’d had a sister who I’d never talked about, let alone tell her that she’d been resurrected from the dead?
“Carrie and I have known each other for years,” I explained, staring at Scarlett out of the corner of my eye. I hoped that she understood that I was trying to tell her that there was no way I could tell her what was going on without giving too many details away.
My sister turned to Carrie. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said in the sweetest of voices. “Are you also our waitress?”
“Yep, that would be me,” Carrie said, shaking her head as though she were snapping out of some sort of trance that she’d been in. “What can I get you?”
“I’ll have a glass of water with lemon,” Gabby said politely.
“That’s it?” Carrie asked with raised eyebrows. “We also have a lunch and dinner menu if you’re not in the mood for ice cream.”
“No, thank you,” Gabby replied with a smile. “I’m not very hungry.”
Carrie nodded and scribbled down Gabby’s order before glancing at Jasmine, who said, “I’ll have the same.”
Carrie didn’t even question Jasmine, recording her order, before glancing at us. I was about to say that I would have the same—mostly because I didn’t want to look like a pig in front of them and also because food didn’t taste that good anymore anyway—when Scarlett said, “I’ll have a confetti milkshake.”
“Those are my favorite!” Carrie said with a smile as she wrote down Scarlett’s order and glanced at me. “The usual?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I replied with a nod. Carrie knew me well enough to know that I always ordered strawberry shakes at Scoops. It was practically a tradition for me.
As Carrie skated away from our table, Scarlett leaned into the table and, in the most scolding voice I had ever heard her use, asked, “What the hell was that? Don’t you know how suspicious that makes us look?”
Gabby stared down at the table guiltily, and Jasmine just stared back at Scarlett intently. “That was what we wanted,” Jasmine snapped at her. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“What are you guys arguing about?” I asked, feeling completely confused and out of the loop.
“Scarlett’s mad that we only ordered water,” Gabby explained in a low voice. “She thinks it looks weird and that it draws attention to us and . . . what we are.”
I couldn’t help myself from laughing out loud before turning to my sister. “Do you know how many girls just order water or something when they go out to eat with their friends? If anything, it makes them look more human.”
“Yeah, well . . . I had to order something so it didn’t look too weird,” Scarlett said with a shrug. “I guess if I have to choke down any food, it might as well be a confetti milkshake. If it tastes even half as good as what I remember it tasted like when we were kids, it will be worth it.”
I smiled, deciding that it was better not to ask why they had wanted to meet here when none of us could even eat.
“I loved this place when I was a kid, too,” Jasmine commented. “It makes me feel almost . . . nostalgic. It was my favorite place to chill.”
“You’re from around here?” I intercepted. “How do you all know each other? I thought you were just siren friends or something.”
“Shhh,” they all hissed at once, glaring daggers at me.
“Keep your voice down,” Scarlett scolded. She did an inventory of the ice cream parlor before concluding, “Lucky for us, no one heard you.”
“We met through Angelica,” Gabby explained. “She turned all of us.”
“Turned you?” I asked confusedly. “You mean, we’re not born like this?” As soon as I said it, I knew it was a dumb question. I had assumed that I had turned into a siren because it was my destiny or that it was some type of biological predetermined condition. I didn’t know there was more to it than that.
Scarlett laughed. “No, we weren’t sirens our whole lives. I didn’t turn until . . . that day.”
“The day we thought you drowned?” I asked. I had been wondering, ever since I’d reunited with my sister, what had actually happened that day. Maybe now, I would finally find out the truth.
Scarlett glanced in my direction before she explained, “That was the night I changed.”
“I remember that night I heard you singing, and then you jumped into the water. I tried to go down there to save you, but I got pulled out by a fisherman, and you were gone,” I explained. “But you really changed?”
Scarlett nodded. “Yes, I saw you get pulled out. Angelica was there under the water. She was pulling me away from you. I wasn’t actually the one singing. You must have heard her and thought it was me. My voice didn’t develop until after that night. Anyway, I heard her singing and I jumped in, and I almost drowned, but . . . she turned me.”
“But it sounded just like you,” I insisted.
At that moment, I glanced up to see Carrie carrying a tray of glasses. She placed our milkshakes in front of us and then gave Gabby and Jasmine their water, which had lemon wedges on the rims of the glasses.
Carrie gave me a look over her shoulder that clearly said we-need-to-talk-later as she walked back towards the kitchen. She was probably confused and curious—and possibly felt left out. I couldn’t imagine how it would feel to see her at my job with a new group of friends who she had never mentioned to me before.
“We sing the same song,” Scarlett explained, snapping me back to the conversation, “Because all sirens sing the same song. I’ve heard you sing it, too.”
“That’s not completely true, Scar,” Gabby chimed in. “Some of us have different songs.” Gabby turned to me, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder. “Sirens from different countries and from different creators have different songs. Some sirens even play instruments. We all have the same song because Angelica made all of us—and many other sirens on the East coast have the same song. It’s kind of complicated.”
“Instruments?” I asked.
“Yes, you are aware of what instruments are, aren’t you?” Jasmine asked, shaking her head at me. “Objects that can be used to make music?”
“Obviously,” I replied through gritted teeth. “I just don’t get how they relate to . . .” I waited until a couple who passed by was out of earshot before I whispered, “sirens.”
“It’s really similar,” Gabby explained. “They just play music with harps and pianos and flutes—sometimes in combination with using their real singing voice.”
“Why don’t we play instruments?” I asked. Somehow, I was kind of disappointed that we weren’t the instrument-playing kind of sirens. I’d always thought it would be cool to be able to play the violin.
“We just don’t,” Scarlett said with a shrug. “Our song depends mostly on our creator’s song. Angelica doesn’t play any instruments, so neither do we. We pretty much all sound the same.”
I considered this for a moment. All these years, I had been positive that Scarlett had been singing the night I’d thought she drowned, when in reality, it was this Angelica woman? “So, what happened after that?” I asked.
“What do you mean?” Scarlett asked, turning to look at me. Her green eyes looked lighter than usual in the dimly lit ice cream parlor.
“I mean, after Angelica changed you, what happened?
Scarlett looked down at her milkshake and began stirring the rainbow sprinkles with a straw. “I aged.”
“Huh?” I asked.
Scarlett met my eyes. “I was eight years old when it happened. The next day, I had an eighteen year old’s body.” When I stared back at her confused,
she explained, “When a child is turned into a siren, she is immediately given the body of an adult. It’s more alluring for men.”
“So, what about me?” I asked, confused. “I still look the same.”
“You weren’t turned as a child,” Gabby explained. “When you’re eighteen, you’ll stop aging for good.”
“How old were you when you changed?”
“I was fourteen. Jasmine was nine,” Gabby replied.
“I’ve been around the longest,” Jasmine said. “I was Angelica’s firstborn.”
“And I was her last,” Gabby said. “I only just changed two years ago.”
For some reason, I’d figured Gabby had been a siren longer. “And you’ve killed six people since then?” I whispered. I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like to kill that many people, let alone in such a short period of time.
“Well, not counting the two women I’ve killed, too,” Gabby said quietly.
“I thought our song only affects men,” I pointed out.
“Usually,” Scarlett replied. “There are exceptions, though.”
“Like lesbians,” Gabby said from across the table, squeezing the juice from her lemon into her water. “They’re drawn to our song the same way men are.”
I glanced over at my sister. “You’re a lesbian?” Not that it really mattered to me; I couldn't care less whether she was interested in men or women, but I was still a little surprised. Come to think of it, that must mean that I was also attracted to women in some way. After all, I’d been lured by the siren’s song, too.
Scarlett laughed. “No, I’m not a lesbian. The reason we were lured by the song and other straight women aren’t is because we were meant to be sirens.”
“So, it is pre-determined then?” I asked.
“Sort of,” Gabby said quietly, meeting my eyes. I hadn’t noticed what a light shade of blue her eyes were until right now. Come to think of it, all three girls who sat at the table with me had very light eyes. The thought completely left my mind when Gabby said, “It has to do with our fathers.”
“Our fathers?” I turned to Scarlett. “What does this have to do with Dad?”
“When a man is killed by a siren, his daughters are tagged.” I could have sworn that I detected a look of sadness in Scarlett’s eyes, which seemed to linger. She continued. “Tagging is the method which is used to determine who will become a siren. It’s a lot to explain, but to make a long story short, when Angelica killed Dad, she then had to turn you and I.”
“Why didn’t she turn me when she turned you then?” I thought about the way the music had captivated me that night and in my memories ever since. Why had Scarlett been the only one who had been lured to the point where she had nearly drowned that night, though?
“We don’t actually know why,” Scarlett replied, shrugging her shoulders. “I’ve been asking the same question for years. Angelica thinks it’s just because you weren’t ready yet.”
“So, she purposely turned you into a siren then?” I asked. “And me, too?”
“It’s not on purpose, really. Angelica knew it was coming, but there was nothing she could do to stop it from happening.” My sister paused and, slowly, she explained, “She turned me, but . . . Jasmine turned you.”
Now, I was even more confused. I turned to Jasmine. “Why would you turn me?” I could feel my cheeks reddening with anger.
“Don’t go getting all batshit crazy on me,” Jasmine said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I was doing you a favor. I saved you. You should be thanking me.”
“Saved me from what?” I gritted my teeth. “I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”
“Nuh uh,” Jasmine said, shaking her head. “If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t be here right now. Maybe I should have just let your ass drown, though.”
“Jasmine!” Gabby scolded. “That’s not nice.”
“Well, she’s not very appreciative,” Jasmine said, glaring at me as she took a gulp of her lemon water. She made a face. “God, this is disgusting.”
“Don’t be mad at Jasmine, Felly,” Scarlett said. “She really was trying to save you. Angelica lured you with her song, and you almost drowned. You would have if Jasmine didn’t change you.”
“How does a siren purposely change someone else into a siren?” I asked. “If they don’t even know that they’re doing it, does it just happen?”
“No, they do know when they’re doing it,” Scarlett corrected me. “What we don’t realize is when we’re luring someone with our song or we’re dragging them under the water to drown them. It’s really rare for a siren to change someone, but they are conscious of it when it happens. It’s one of the few things we have control of—to either make the person drown or change them.”
“What did Jasmine do to change me?” I asked.
Jasmine snorted. “Something I’d never do again.” She stood up. “I’m gonna go home before I say something I don’t mean. I’ll see ya later, Scar. Gabby, are you coming with?”
Gabby glanced over at me and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Felicia. I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.” She followed Jasmine out of the ice cream parlor, leaving Scarlett and I behind.
“How’s your ice cream?” Scarlett asked in a way that told me she was trying to change the subject.
Realizing, for the first time, that I hadn’t even eaten any of my milkshake yet, I took a sip. It was mostly melted, but still really cold as it slid down my throat and, although it didn’t taste as good as it normally did, it also wasn’t as bad as most of the other food I’d eaten since all of these changes had taken place in me. “It’s not horrible, actually. Yours?”
“Pretty good,” Scarlett admitted. “Not as good as I remember, but kind of tasty.” She slurped the remaining bits of milkshake from the bottom of her glass and stood up. Sliding in across the booth from me, Scarlett said, “To turn someone into a siren, we must kiss the person.”
“Jasmine kissed me?” I felt my cheeks reddening again at the idea.
Scarlett nodded. “Yeah, she knew I would have been pissed at her if she had just let you drown. She lured you out to her by accident. I would have tried to save you myself, except I was lost in my own song at the time. It was almost a miracle that she wasn’t, too.”
I stared down at my hands. “So, you knew I was going to be lured that day then?”
Scarlett shrugged. “I . . . I don’t know. I guess I always thought it might happen, so I showed Jasmine and Gabby pictures of you from your Facebook. Just in case you ever showed up, they’d know what you looked like. That’s how Jasmine recognized you.”
“You looked at my Facebook? I didn’t know sirens had the internet.” I raised my eyebrows. I’d been imagining sirens to be these elusive people who lived near the ocean without modern technology. It was hard to imagine my sister, the siren, using the Internet with her friends, who happened to be sirens, too.
“Of course we have the internet,” Scarlett laughed. “We’re going to live forever. We have to find some way to keep ourselves occupied. We try to live as much like humans as possible. And, yes, I have looked at your Facebook. Numerous times, actually. I’ve always missed you, and Facebook was the only way for me to see what was going in your life.”
“Where do you live?” I asked. Now that I knew that they didn’t live out at sea, I was curious about where my sister had been staying all these years.
“We live with Angelica,” Scarlett replied. “She has a house on the other side of Ocean Grove. The place is gorgeous.” She met my eyes. “It would be really cool if you could come check it out sometime. Angelica says you’re welcome anytime.”
I tried not to let my sister know how weird I thought it was that the person who had, ultimately, done this to us was welcoming me into her home, so I smiled politely instead and said, “Sure, just let me know when.”
“How about tomorrow night?” Scarlett asked. “Angelica said she’ll be home. It would be nice for the two of you to meet.”
The tone in her voice let me know that she did think of Angelica as a motherly figure, which made me cringe. I supposed it was only natural, considering she had lived with the woman for years, but it was still bothered me; it felt like she had abandoned us to gain a whole new family.
“That’s fine. Gram plays Bingo tomorrow night,” I recalled, glad that I wouldn’t have to worry about what type of excuse I could come up with if she asked where I went.
Scarlett pulled a pen out of her purse and jotted something down on one of the folded napkins. Sliding it across the table, she said, “Here. It’s the address. Just show up whatever time you feel like it. We’ll be home.”
“Okay, I will,” I replied, tucking the address into my own purse. “I have more questions, though.”
“I’ll try my best to answer them,” Scarlett replied. “If I don’t know the answer, you can ask Angelica tomorrow. I guess there are some things she wants to go over with you, anyway.”
“Are all sirens good?” I asked.
Scarlett shook her head and laughed. “That’s like asking if all people are good. Some sirens are bad, some are good. Some even use their powers against men.”
When I stared back at her blankly, she explained, “I don’t think I told you this yet, but . . . when people look at us, they think we’re more attractive than the average woman.” So, that was why everyone—including myself—had been drawn to Scarlett and her friends when they first came into the ice cream parlor. I’d thought they were just naturally good looking, but it made perfect sense that it was a siren thing.
“So, even when we’re not singing, men—and lesbians—are instantly drawn to our appearance,” Scarlett continued. “Some sirens—bad sirens—use that to their advantage. They like being able to manipulate people.” She played with a straw wrapper. “There are also some sirens that enjoy knowing they have the power to kill. Sirens with that mentality are rare, but . . . they do exist. And they’re dangerous.”