Off to the east the sun slowly woke up the dark sky. Each star gave off their last twinkle before yielding to the light. “Snap Shot.” Kate whispered, taking a mental picture of the sunrise. Maybe she could get it down on the clean sheet of paper positioned in her easel downstairs. Later she’d raise the canopy that comes up over the sitting area by the Captain’s chair so she could paint in the comfort of shade.
Admittedly she may never get rich on her art but then it didn’t really matter, she loved to paint. Her mom, Carolyn, was her biggest fan. It never ceased to amaze Kate how her mother priced her art so high yet it sold quickly. Kate would one day inherit the large gallery and studio her mother had purchased years ago. Carolyn Rose paintings hung in some of the richest homes in Florida, including Kate’s. An avid artist since her youth, Carolyn’s gallery was one of the finest in Sarasota.
While Del, Kate’s dad had understood and nurtured Kate’s love for the ocean, Carolyn preferred to experience it only through her daughter’s paintings. Katlin’s paintings captured the beauty of life on the water but also hinted of a sadness borne of a solitary lifestyle. Carolyn had only been to a beach once but that had been enough for her to admit it wasn’t her cup of tea so she joyfully stayed home whenever her husband and their adventurous daughter set sail on one of their quests.
Del had planned on coming along this week but had cancelled in favor of taking his wife to the “Vagina Monologues” for her sixty-seventh birthday. Even though he had been looking forward to the trip, you would never see the stain of disappointment on his face. Del didn’t believe in regret or disappointment and Kate shared his knack of seeing the sunny side of things for the most part.
Blessed with her mother’s rich brown hair, green eyes and high cheekbones, Kate stood out among the regulars at the marina. Many of the fishermen rebuked her for going out on the sea alone. For whatever reason they lived under the ancient notion that the sea belonged to the male race. Kate couldn’t grasp their narrow mindedness but knew a century of dogma couldn’t be changed over night. In fact, earlier at the marina while she was preparing to leave she had turned to see an old fisherman watching her. It had been creepy to suddenly realize you were under observation. He was weathered by the sea - Kate guessed him to be in his 70’s though he looked 80. He had taken a long drink of a dark bottle that looked suspiciously like Captain Morgan whisky. Jittered, Kate waited patiently for him to speak.
“Lass,” he began “I’m all for women’s lib. Women want to get out of the kitchen to be a fireman, I say more power to them. Women can play basketball, jump out of airplanes, fight for our country, whatever they want and I’m the first to applaud. Let woman take part in ‘All Star Wrestling’ I say.” To Kate’s chagrin he spat out chew juice on the boardwalk. “But lassie girl, the sea is a jealous lover and she won’t ever take kindly to a woman captain. I’m telling you straight girlie, the sea is a woman and no woman wants another skirt taking the men’s fancy from her.” Red Eye Bill snorted, taking a long swallow from his Sam Bouka bottle.
“You’ll face nothing but peril girl if you don’t heed what I’m telling you. I’ve seen things out there that would bring you the worse kind of nightmares. Heard things too.” He paused to look around, then leaned forward and lowered his voice almost to a whisper. What your old pappy was thinking in teaching you to sail is beyond me. Why it is borderline neglect.” He had gone on muttering about how it must have been on account of Carolyn not producing a son. Poor Del denied a male child to raise into a man.
Kate had politely listened to the old man prattle on about the importance of a male child. Several objections to his logic jumped to mind but she didn’t lend them voice.
“Heard the Siren singing to me lass. Do you know what a Siren singing means?“
Kate shook her head, intrigued despite herself. He cackled deeply causing her skin to crawl.
“The Siren is a goddess of the sea. She travels the waters searching for a lonely man.“ He took another gulp from his bottle as if he needed it to calm his nerves for what he was about to tell her. “You people nowadays call ‘em “mermaids”. I guess its a way to romanticize them, but lass, there is nothing romantic or whimsical about the Siren.”
Katlin was startled when the old man grabbed her arm with a fairly strong grip. She tried to free herself but he held tight, his inebriated eyes tearing up.
“When a lonely soul hears the Siren sing her sorrowful song it cuts them to their core. Af first your hypnotized by its beauty and you want to move closer to the source. Too late you realize the truth.” He released her to wipe his wrinkled cheeks.
“What did you realize?” Katlin couldn’t help but ask. The old man met her gaze briefly then shook his head.
“It don’t matter lass. You’ll do what you want and its obvious you want the sea. Can’t get the saltwater out of a persons blood once its there.” He brushed off her inquiry and began to shuffle back in the direction he came from.
“Hey old timer, you can’t start a story like that and just walk away.” Katlin had called after him. He stopped with his back to her. Katlin had the impression he was arguing with himself. After a moment or two he turned and shuffled back to her slip.
“You want to know what you realize?” He spat chew juice on the wood decking. Kate swallowed hard to quell the urge to gag.
“Yes, I want to know.” She met his piercing gaze again.
“I was first mate on the Angelina, a shrimping boat based down in the Keys. By all accounts I considered my life to be ideal - lonely sometimes but ideal.” He shuddered so hard Katlin worried he’d dislocate something. His eyes teared up as painful memories clenched his heart.
“Ideal…” he mumbled then shuddered again. Katlin waited breathlessly for him to continue.
“I was at the helm watching the most perfect sunset I’ve ever seen. When I heard her the first time. I couldn’t hear the words - just her haunting melody. It was so mournfully beautiful that I wanted to see who was singing. Surely it would be a woman more lovely then even you lass.” He smiled sadly.
“I must have turned the Angelina towards the song though I don’t remember doing so. The song captivated me, pierced my soul to the point that the prospect of not seeing her tore my heart.” He took a long drink, his hands shaking as he tipped up the bottle.
“Then I saw her, just briefly, but there she was perched on a large rock, arms outstretched to me. I realized too late that the Angelina was in mortal danger as it raced towards the woman.” Katlin drew in a deep breath, anticipating the ending.
“The woman slid into the water right before the Angelina struck the first rock. I jumped off the boat - not,” He sobbed softly “to save myself but to save her.” He stopped talking though his lips continued to move.
“What happened?” She pressed him. HE turned away but she halted him with a hand to his arm.
“What happened?” She asked again.
“They died, they all died lass.” Watery eyes met her inquiring gaze. He pulled free of her grasp.
“I see it in you lass. That confidence that your life is ideal right now.” he sighed “Lonely but ideal.” He shuffled off a few feet before stopping.
“The song haunts those that live. It haunts them all the rest of our days.” He muttered without turning around. Kate watched him go down the dock, he didn’t look back, not once.
He had to be a little nuts, she decided, trying to shake off the story’s residue. No doubt he had been drinking or fell asleep at the helm of the ill-fated Angelina and the story of the Siren was born of guilt. Shrugging she took a deep breath and returned to preparing the boat for its upcoming journey.
