The Siren's Call

by Candace Osmond

  Unable to really see my attackers in the pitch-black alley, I took my chance and ran. But, once again, hands were on my body, pulling me back. More aggressive this time.

  “Please!” I begged. “I’m pregnant.”

  A man moved from one side of the narrow space to the other, crossing through a shard of moonlight. His determined face came into view for a split second, but it was long enough to see the malice in his eyes.

  “Even better,” he replied with a slick tone and closed in as his buddy came from behind, forcing me between them.

  I felt his raunchy breath on my face and held back the bile that rose from my stomach, my mind scrambling for what to do. Chastising myself internally when I realized how unprepared I was. No weapon. No way to defend myself. Why didn’t I think to take anything?

  I brought my knee up, quick and hard, to meet his crotch and sent him reeling back to the ground in a fit of coughing. Before his friend could react, my elbow hauled back and met his nose. The sound of bone-crunching was enough assurance for me. I took off running back toward the entrance, where I knew the tavern was close by and I could hopefully seek help.

  But, again, I was too slow. My tired and pregnant body betrayed me. Two sets of hands were on each shoulder, yanking me back into the shadows where I was thrown to the ground like a sack of vegetables. The skin of my bare hands burned as they scraped across the rough stone. I could hear the sound of metal clanking as one of the men removed his belt buckle and I let out another scream.

  “Help!”

  But a boot came up and smacked my mouth, silencing my cries. Blood rushed to my head and the world around me fell into a muffled pulse.

  “Shut up, you bloody whore!” the man told me and then to his friend, “Harry, keep watch, would ya?”

  His friend began to walk away, toward the opening of the alley, but was then joined by another set of boots, heavier and clunkier. I heard the wet crunch of a fist meeting face and a body crumpling to the ground just a few feet to my side.

  My attacker scrambled to haul his pants back up. “What the–”

  More punches were thrown, and the dark alley filled with the sounds two men scrapping. Grunts and groans, painful punches, and then, finally, a second body on the ground. I retreated against the wall, hardly able to catch my breath, and feared what awaited me. A bigger predator had entered the alley and took out my attackers. But what did that mean for me?

  Shakily, I strained to see the form in the darkness, only catching a glimpse of the massive man that towered over me. “P-please,” I said. “Let me go. I can pay you whatever you want!”

  The figure crouched down, catching the moonlight on the back of his head that highlighted his shape like a pale halo. A face hidden in his own shadow. He laughed, low and raspy.

  “What’s the matter? Don’t recognize me, sweetness?”

  My heart stopped in my chest, unable to believe the voice that graced my ears. It couldn’t be…

  “Benjamin?” His massive hands reached out in offer and I took them as I hauled myself to my feet where I fell into his arms. I squeezed tightly, fending off the adrenaline shakes. “Oh, my God! I can’t believe it’s you!”

  I felt his body jiggle with a heavy chuckle. “Of course. I promised to find ya, didn’t I?”

  I erupted into heavy sobs, awash with relief of being saved from the hands of those two men. But, more importantly, the feeling of knowing. Benjamin was there. In front of me and in my arms. Rock solid proof that my wish had worked. In that moment, all the worries I’d been keeping at bay finally released into the wind and I felt as if I could breathe for the very first time.

  “It worked,” I said and repeated to myself, erupting into a stream of sobs, “It worked. It worked.”

  “Hey now,” Benjamin pried me off his chest, “Why the tears? What worked?”

  I wiped a trembling hand across the skin under my eyes and laughed. “My wish. It worked.”

  “Of course it did, sweetness. Why would you think it didn’t?”

  “I just…” I shook my head, still in awe that my friend was alive and standing before me. “It’s not as if the sirens gave me confirmation or anything.”

  He stood back and held his hands out as he twirled about. “All the proof you need right here. Now,” he said and leaned in, so I could make out the slight features of his face, “How about we get out of this alley and go somewhere warm? We’ve got some catching up to do.”

  I smiled happily, still unable to believe he was truly there. “I know just the place.”

  ***

  I stogged a log inside the tiny fireplace that warmed my captain’s quarters and stood, wiping the dirt from my hands. It felt good to be back in my room. Safe from the world. I turned toward my little table, where Benjamin’s large frame sat sprawled out, consuming the small chair beneath him. My cheeks hurt from smiling, still unable to believe that my friend was there. Alive and free. But my jaw protested with each word I spoke, reminding me of the boot that had left its mark only a short while ago. I rubbed at the tender bruise I felt forming and shivered at the thought.

  “So, this is your rig?” he said as I took a seat across from him.

  I glanced around proudly. “Yep, this is The Queen. I’ve got a small crew, but they’re family. It’s a good place.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Much better than a bunch’a man-eatin’ pirates, I reckon?”

  I grabbed a small quilt from the back of the chair and wrapped it around my shoulders, laughing despite the seriousness of what he’d just said. Remembering how close we both came to death at the hands of his insane brother. “Yeah, just a little.”

  Silence filled the room, packing the holes in between the crackles of the growing fire behind us. My eyes raked Benjamin’s body, taking in the sight of him. Still willing my brain to believe he wasn’t part of my imagination. He appeared cleaned up, a fresh change of clothes covering his body; brown leather trousers and a loose cream-colored shirt underneath a dark, fur lined trench. His long brown curls still wild and messy around his shoulders.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked him. “In town, I mean?”

  “Three days,” he replied and then stood to grab the kettle of water boiling over the open fire. My eyes followed him back and forth as he prepared a pot of loose tea on the table and sat back down. “I spent most of those finding my way in a world lost to me. Things have… changed.”

  “Yes, they have.” I rubbed my tired face. “Are you okay?”

  His thick brow creased over those warm, brown eyes as he regarded me with a look of pain. “I am now.”

  I realized then, as big of a man Benjamin was, he must have been terrified when he came ashore. And then another thought occurred to me. “Wait, where’s your ship?”

  He guffawed. “Gone.”

  “What do you mean gone?”

  Benjamin groaned a sigh and leaned back, preparing for a long story. “I wasted no time after you left. I had no idea how long it would take you to find the Siren Isles, if at all. But, I knew, if you were successful, I wouldn’t have the chance to prepare once the curse began to break. So, I threw my brother overboard, then hauled Pleeman’s body ashore. Burned it to ashes. I gathered up my belongings and kept them with me, just in case.”

  He stopped and lifted a large fabric satchel from his side, bulging with lumps of different shapes and sizes. He looped the long strap over his head and hooked it on the back of the chair before reaching in and pulling out a clay jar and set it on the table.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Pleeman. I gathered his ashes, thinking, if I got out of there, if I found you… maybe we could–”

  I reached across the table and took his hand in mine. “We’ll bring him home to his girls.”

  Benjamin nodded and squeezed my hand, refusing to let go. “After that, I waited. For what, I wasn’t sure. The skies to open up? The ship to suddenly set sail? I didn’t know what to expect. And the two men who
remained despised me for what I did to Abraham. They went mad. I had to tie them up in the brig just to have a moment’s peace.”

  “So, what happened, then? When the curse broke?” I asked, dying to know the details. I’d waited so long for confirmation that my wish worked. That my crew didn’t risk their lives at the might of a kraken for nothing.

  He shook his head. “I’ve no idea. It all happened so fast. I was on deck, the sky turned dark and fell silent. Became eerily still. Like a painting. As if….as if it weren’t even real to begin with.” Benjamin’s eyes became lost in the memory. “I felt the ship move, it cracked and groaned from years of being laid up. Like a waking beast. I looked to the horizon, waiting for it to near, but instead…found us plunging downward. The ocean opened up, slowly swallowing us whole. I ran inside Abraham’s quarters. Barely made it before the wave came crashing down.”

  Benjamin let go of my hand then and relaxed back into his chair.

  “That was all I remember. I woke up on the beach near the docks here. No ship. No men. But… alive.” He smiled, eyes glistening with gratitude. “Thank you.”

  “No need for thanks,” I assured my friend.

  He checked the tea and saw that it had steeped. I watched as he poured us two mugs and pushed one across the table for me. I held it up to my face, inhaling the steam, letting it seep into my face and warm my bones.

  “So,” he said cheerfully and waggled his thick, brown eyebrows, “Tell me everything.”

  I laughed and settled in to regal him in the tale of The Siren Isles, our great battle with the kraken and how the siren granted me three enchanted pearls. I told him of the wishes, and how I worried they didn’t work. He became fascinated with the details of my mission to find my sister and offered to help in any way he could. And then gave me a warm, heartfelt congratulations when I told him of my wedding day.

  I knew he’d always have a spot for me in his heart, but it wasn’t like one would assume. His fondness for me. It went deeper than that. We shared a bond sewn together by the magic of the ocean and the threads of fate. I believed, then, that I was meant to wash ashore on that island. It was written in my destiny to meet Benjamin and break that curse. The man was right where he was supposed to be. In my life, as my friend, and part of my crew of misfit pirates.

  For hours, we sat in the warmth of my captain’s quarters, going over every single moment and detail since we last parted. Before long, my tired body got the best of me and I couldn’t fight off the relentless yawns. Benjamin insisted we get some sleep and he grabbed a pillow and blanket from my bed, tossing it on the floor.

  “Well, this looks familiar,” he said jokingly as I crawled under the heavy quilts of my comfy bed.

  “Tomorrow, before we go to Pleeman’s farm, I’ll show you to the bunks belowdecks. Get you your own room. You’ll be happy here, Benjamin.”

  “I’ve no doubt,” he replied and stretched out on the floor. “But I’m not sure I can say the same for your husband.”

  “Henry understands,” I told him and fought back another yawn. “I’ve told him a great deal about you. About us, and what we went through. He hoped for your survival just as I did.” And then I added, before my tired head sunk down into my pillow, “Welcome to the family, Benjamin.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Where exactly are we going, again?” Lottie asked and crossed her arms defiantly. She’d been furious when I’d showed up at The Siren’s Call earlier that morning with a strange man in tow, after being gone all night with no word of where I went.

  “To a farm up North,” I reminded her again. “A friend’s home.”

  “This friend,” she said, “Pleeman?”

  “Yes,” I replied and stole a glance out the carriage window.

  “The one who is dead?”

  At my side, Benjamin grumbled under his breath and turned his attention out the window on his side. He and Lottie weren’t exactly off to a great start. He’d bellowed at her to shut up when she went off on me that morning and she’d been giving him the silent side-eye the whole trip.

  “Look, Pleeman was a kind old man. He saved my life on that island. And then again aboard the ship.” I grasped my cloak at the neck, calming my breath at the memory of Abraham’s hands on me. “He… gave his life to save mine. I owe him this.”

  “We’re almost there, sweetness,” Benjamin said.

  “Stop calling her that!” Lottie cawed.

  His eyes widened in annoyance. “I’ll call her whatever the damn Hell I please, woman!”

  She reached her foot across the carriage and kicked his leg. Benjamin growled and kicked her back. Before an all-out kicking fight ensued, I shifted in my seat to block my two childish friends.

  “What the Hell, you guys?” I glanced back and forth, both crossed arms and looked away. “How old are you, again? Four? Jesus. Grow up. Get along.” I moved back in my seat as the carriage made a slight turn and caught Lottie’s gaze. “You’ll have to learn to like one another. Benjamin’s part of the crew now.”

  She balked at my words. “What? Does Henry know this?”

  I shrugged. “More or less. It’s my ship, anyway. I’m the captain and what I say goes. Henry will be happy with whatever choices I make.”

  Beside me, Benjamin sat up straight and gave Lottie a look of triumph.

  She didn’t respond, and the carriage finally came to a stop. The door opened and in came a cool gust of light snow, chilling me to the bone. I ached to back in the warmth of my quarters where the little fire burned all night. Benjamin had to pry me from the bed that morning, insisting that my people would be worried. And she had been.

  Furiously worried.

  Benjamin exited first and then aided me down the couple of steps. Surprisingly, he held a hand out in offer for Lottie, but she refused and jumped from the carriage in defiance. I’d find a way to make them get along, eventually.

  “This is Pleeman’s home?” Lottie asked and gawked at the scene before us. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?”

  We stood, staring in silence and taking in the sad view of what had obviously once been a thriving home. An overgrown treeline encroached on the dilapidated property; a weathered and leaning house in the distance, a rotten fence stuck up in places through the fallen snow.

  An old barn, its roof caved in on one side, sat lonely in the meadow. My eyes fell on a wooden sign at the end of the driveway, barely hanging on by a single rusty nail. The words, beaten by time, read The Whitby’s and a heavy pit dropped to the bottom of my empty stomach. I glance at Benjamin, who also spotted the sign, and we exchanged a sigh.

  “No, we’re in the right place,” I said.

  We waded through the few inches of freshly fallen snow, circling the abandoned property. Benjamin went off toward the house, peering in the windows and Lottie took off to the barn. I went out back of the small farmhouse, noting the never-ending stretch of property and admiring the wonderful life Pleeman must have had once upon a time.

  But also feeling the crushing sadness of the deserted property, how his family must have packed up and left once they realized he wasn’t coming back. A tear escaped and ran down my cheek, turning cold and sticking to the skin there. I spun around and began trekking back toward the house when my foot caught something hard in the snow. With the toe of my boot, I brushed aside some of the dense powder to reveal a small flat stone, raised from the ground, a few jagged letters poking through. My heart caught in my throat as I anxiously wiped away the rest of the white cover.

  A headstone.

  “Benjamin! Lottie!” I called out. “Over here!”

  My two friends rushed over in a huff and stopped by my side where I pointed down. It took a moment, but they realized what it was. Benjamin moaned sadly as Lottie gasped and covered her mouth.

  “No,” he whispered in the breeze as he knelt down in the snow to further uncover the markings.

  The more he shoved aside, the more revealed. Four more stones, each marked with a
name. Gertie, Sara, Tessie, Janny, and then Collette. Pleeman’s wife, I assumed. I cried silently as Lottie wrapped one arm around my shoulder, holding me comfortingly. They’d waited. They’d waited for their father and husband to return and he never did. They’d spent their last years on this earth wondering where he’d gone. Probably wondering if he abandoned them. And there he was, trapped aboard a cursed ship, forced to sell his soul until he found a way back to his beloved girls.

  Benjamin reached into his satchel and pulled out the clay jar that held Pleeman’s ashes, then set it on the ground next to the last grave. Collette’s. With his bare, monstrous hands, Benjamin began to hack away at the nearly frozen earth, digging a small and shallow hole. Lottie and I stood by, watching as he popped the cork top of the jar and poured a sprinkle of ashes over each grave before laying the jar down into the hole. He began to sift the loose soil over top when I dropped to my knees at his side. Tears streaming down my face.

  “He was brave,” I told the stones. “Your father, I promised him I’d tell you how brave he was. He saved my life and it’s an act I won’t ever take for granted. I’m sorry…” I paused to control the wave of blubbering sobs that poured from my face. “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring him home in time.”

  I leaned into Benjamin and we sat there on the ground, both sobbing as we finished filling the shallow grave with dirt together. My pale, slender finger trembling with sadness as they crossed with his massive ones. When we were done, I let my head fall to his shoulder.

  “We did good, sweetness,” Benjamin said, his voice cracking under the tears he held back. “Pleeman’s home now.” I cried as his hand cupped my shoulder and squeezed. “He’s home.”

  I stood to find a stunned Lottie, seemingly unsure of whether to cry or not. She never knew the man we’d just put in the ground. But the effect on my life was evident in my cries and Lottie was my friend. She cared for me, and my pain coursed through her. She never spoke, but wrapped me in a warm embrace, one that lasted until I pulled away.