The Siren's Call

THE SIREN’S CALLBY KAREN MICHELLE NUTT

Captain Le Sage took to the sea expecting to find fame and fortune but instead, a storm claimed his ship and left him the sole survivor. Ashamed, he did not return home immediately to his wife but took comfort in another woman’s arms. However, peace did not come to him. He craved his wife’s embrace and knew he must beg her forgiveness. Upon his return, the villagers informed him his wife had taken her own life. She’d mourned his death, believing he’d perished alongside his men and had flung herself into the ocean in hopes of joining him in a watery grave.

Heartbroken, day after day, he roamed the shore, and his given name was soon forgotten. The villagers would leave him food as if they pitied him and soon they referred to him as the hermit, and rightly so. His long graying hair and beard certainly played the part, and his scrawled writings began to resemble a madman’s prose. However, his prayers remained as dedicated as a monk’s. He craved death so he could join his wife and no less would satisfy his aching heart. The nights proved the worst form of torture when his guilt, his constant companion, reminded him he still drew breath.

When a storm threatened the village, like the one he faced at sea with his men, he hurried to the beach and prayed it would finally claim him. He burst through the trees as lightning streaked the sky. His feet wandered closer to the shore, where a strange mist met the water and the waves rose ever higher. Fear, he could not explain, threatened to choke him and yet he stayed rooted where he stood. The ocean grew suddenly calm, and the waves receded, leaving a ghostly figure of a woman in its wake. Her long golden brown hair flowed gently behind her as if the wind caressed the locks with gentle hands.

She reminded him of his wife in every way, except for the eyes. They were blue like his wife’s, but the shade so intense, the night could not hide the brightness in the shadows. Her gaze locked onto him and her hand lifted, not in greeting but keenly beckoning him. Her lips curved sweetly, and yet her beguiling charms did not reach those strange colored eyes. When the first raindrops fell on the sand, the ghostly woman turned suddenly and shot like a star toward the

waves, disappearing beneath the surface. A strangled cry stole from his lips as if her departure had physically harmed him.

The next night, when the storm had calmed, but the moon still danced with the clouds, he returned to the shore in hopes of catching a glimpse of this siren that had come from the sea to find him. She appeared again in the same fashion. This time, she blew kisses to him. Her laughter and her voice were like a melody inside his head. He wanted to go to her and yet he still could not take the steps. His subconscious warned him this beautiful ghostlike creature, which looked like his wife, was not as enchanting as she appeared. As the sun kissed the sky, once more the sea spirit vanished beneath the water, and his world fell so deathly silent.

On the third day, the hermit returned to the shore and sat down as close to the water’s edge as he dared. He would wait for her. His heart filled with longing for just a glimpse of the ghostlike maiden from the sea.

As days passed and no one from the village had seen the hermit, one curious soul ventured toward the old man’s shack, expecting to find he had perished, but the dwelling stood empty. He was about to return home when something caught his eye. He strode toward the lump on the beach, expecting to find a body, but it was just the hermit’s jacket, worn with holes and ragged tears. He shaded his eyes and glanced toward the water, wondering if the old man had walked into the sea. He spotted something, but it was not the hermit. A pale, almost translucent woman floated high on a wave with her arm outstretched, beckoning him. He blinked in disbelief, and when he looked again, the ghostly figure had vanished as if she’d never been there at all.

The End

Karen Michelle Nutt resides in California with her husband. Though her three children are grown and starting their own adventures, she still has a houseful of demanding pets. Jack, her Chorkie, is her writing buddy and sits long hours with her at the computer.