Siren's Cove

by Cassie Sandwich

Benchmarking

~ 2018 ~

The fire crackled heavily across from me. I ground my feet into the sand, let my toes sink into it, feel the slight pressure of the grains accumulating more and more. I try to root myself into the earth, drown out the chatter around me, focus just on the heat of the summer night and the crackle of the flame in front of me.

I know I'm being unappreciative. This entire trip was put together for my benefit, after all. Finally, the Penrose patriarch is gone. The heir apparent has taken over. That’s something to drink to, right? That was the kind of man father was. His passing is something to be celebrated, and the fact that he lived his life in a way that no one would mourn is all the more reason to. Find somewhere remote, away from the prying eyes that expect you to pay fealty, and drink his memory down into the grave.

I don’t know a single person here, outside of my actual family. I don’t feel much like celebrating with them. No matter what kind of bastard my father was, he was one of the last standing parts of my family. It’s just me and my brother now. He took care of arranging this entire thing. Actually did something thoughtful too; a beachside campout like our father would take us on when we were children. Something I could actually remember him by one last time while we all pretended we were too good for that.

I just wish he chose better company for it. No company at all, maybe. Just us three, not these strangers. A few suckup men who want to get into my good graces so I can reward them for that fealty I was supposed to inherit with everything else, and a dozen women that I am sure Edgar invited purely for upstanding reasons. Not a single one that I want to actually talk to.

“Come on, Darling. You need to at least look like you’re having a good time.” Veronica sidles in next to me and gives me a small kiss on the cheek. “This is your moment after all. The new face of a corporate dynasty, right?”

I scoff quietly. “Not much of a dynasty. It’s just us left. That’s the only reason why it’s me, despite all godly reason. Honestly, between us? Edgar is the only one who knows how to run this business. He was the one being groomed for it. It really should have been him.” 

“Come now,” she nods over to him, his arm around the shoulders of one girl and hand on the ass of another, “we both know why that was never going to happen. If he was too much of a scandal machine for your father to handle, how is anyone else supposed to clean his little mess up? Trust me, you taking on the head of the company is the best outcome for everyone.” She reaches up, caressing the top of my arm. “Besides darling; think of all the things you could do with all that inheritance. Surely it’s in better hands than his?”

I mull the thought over on my tongue. It’s not like I’ve never thought about it before; the kinds of things that I could do with the inheritance I now got essentially all of by default. “You’re right, there’s so much we could do now. As much as I would rather focus on my charity work at the shelter, I won’t have to scrape and plead for the funds anymore…” 

She looked at me blankly for a moment, before breaking out into a wide smile, squeezing my upper body. “My husband, the altruist. I meant the kind of life you could live now, the things we could do together, now that you don’t have to worry about Daddy’s purse strings. Think a little bigger than your pet project!” She flicks me on the nose softly and laughs. “You’re a good man Mortimer, but you need to put yourself first once in a while. Learn to be selfish.”

Before I could say anything in response, a sharp whistle from across the fire drew my attention. Edgar rose a beer up in the air, commanding the attention of the partygoers. “Everyone, give it up for the man of the hour! The new face of The Penrose Foundation Land Holdings and Subsidiaries, and my esteemed brother, Morty!” Polite clapping from the group. Some man I don’t know comes up and shakes my shoulders, before sitting back down near me. “A few words for your adoring subjects?” 

I shake my head, plaster a fake smile on. I reach up, touch my necklace softly. “Uh, thanks everyone.” All of their eyes turn to me. Even if I wanted to say more, any thoughts I had turned to ash on my tongue. 

Edgar laughs, gives a little clap. “Really? That’s it? Come on, the new head has to have more to him than that! Don’t have a story you can tell the people for a little entertainment?”

Veronica tosses a little bit of some snack at him. “Oh, leave him alone. If you want to entertain the people so badly, you do it. Whip that ghost story of yours out.” 

“Believe me love, you are not the first woman to ask me to whip it out.” Another handful of snacks get thrown at him. He’s lucky it wasn’t a bottle this time. He coolly runs his hand through his hair and smirks. “Besides, ghost stories? I didn’t realize we were still thirteen, Ronni. This is supposed to be a sophisticated, adult beach party sleepover, for real corporate men.” 

He’s playing cool, but I know him. He loves this story, loves this island. I think he’s had to have recited it on every trip here I could remember (and quite a few times more past that). I nod and hold my hand up towards him. “Please, Edgar. I want to hear it. Let all our guests know what’s so special about this place.” I even mean it. He tells the story so well.

He gets a big, bold smile on his face, leans over, and claps his hands hard in front of himself. “Alright everyone! Listen up, listen well, for you’re about to hear the Legend of Siren’s Cove!” Large, bombastic, a showman’s voice. Exactly the way we were told this story as children, back when our family were more than just us two.

He unclasps his hands, tampering them down in the air in a ‘settle down’ motion. “Put yourself in the time period. It’s the late 1800’s, near the turn of the century. Times are tough, the fishing is sparse. Men are getting desperate. And then, right in the middle of the worst of it, comes a woman into town. Promises of riches, of endless food, of anything one could desire, if they only heeded her word.” 

“Naturally, the people were bewildered. What could possibly help them though this, they all wanted to know. And so, the stranger started telling a yarn about a mysterious, glorious, dangerous island she knew about; this very one you’re standing on, ladies and gentlemen.” A polite smattering of laughs from the crowd around us comes out. He waits for them to die down before continuing. “No map was needed, for you could hear it draw you in from the sea. The land’s sweet promises echoed through the waves and drew you in. And, on top of the cliffs, if you professed those desires, you could have anything you wanted; so long as you were ready to pay the price for them.”

One of the men I didn’t recognize heckled, a smile on his face. “Is this ghost story going to get any actual ghosts anytime soon?”

Edgar sneer-smiles at him, clearly annoyed he was broken from his groove. “Let me get there, Johnston.”

Veronica leans over me, throwing her snack at apparently-Johnston. “Yeah. Let the master storyteller work his craft, right?” she jeered, a smile on her face.

Edgar gives an appreciative smile back at her, shakes himself out, and gets back into it. “Most of the townsfolk thought she was crazy, or that it had to be some kind of scam. People lost interest and dissipated from the story, something to dream about late at night while their bellies ached. But three men were desperate enough to try it. A local fisherman, his destitute brother, and the fisherman’s boathand; along with the brother’s wife. The four of them made their way out into the open ocean. And, after days of sailing, at the point where they thought they might truly be lost to the open waves, they heard it; the island’s siren call was whispering to them, the fog broken, the land in view.”

One of the girls near him quirked her face, laughing. “Isn’t this island, like, a hundred miles off the shore? Our boat got here in a day.” 

“Yeah, well. It used to be harder, okay?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, before turning back to the campfire. “Anyways! The four of them make it to the island, ok? They hear the calling, promising them everything they could ever wish for. They march to the tops of the cliffs, and one by one profess desires. The fisherman wants more fish than he could dream of, an endless supply to bring to market. The brother wants to be a wealthy landowner, who would never have to work a day in his life and want for nothing. The boathand wanted to be the captain, to take over the business, to have his own underlings to boss around.”

“All of them professed, and all three intended on cheating the island; the fisherman offered his reputation despite being virtually unknown back home, the boathand offered the business knowing it wasn’t his to give, the brother offered his family knowing his wife was barren and there was to be none. And soon, the miraculous happened. Fish, gigantic salmon, started jumping at the shoals. Over and into the boat, flooding any free space available. The fisherman knew his wish had been granted, and the other two men saw and believed their rewards would be waiting for them back home.” 

“But one more had come with them to the island, and they hadn’t accounted for the wife’s wish. It turned out she was a wicked woman, full of malice and hatred. She had one wish that burned in her; to see her husband and anyone associated with him dead. As the three men celebrated, great storm clouds gathered overhead. Soon the thickened, coalesced around the three of them. It soon grew too thick, too foggy to even see around their faces. It was suffocating. The darkness lashing out, freezing them, lulling them into a stupor. And then…” He pauses, leaning in far, before slamming his hands together as hard as he could. “Bang! Something grabs the fisherman, and then the rest of them. Hard struggle they all did, but one by one they fell. Great knives from the darkness held them down and pierced their skin. They were torn limb from limb in the dark fog. And, when it had lifted, the three of them were no more. Chunks of their bodies were torn asunder, their throats ripped from their bodies as if from jagged teeth. The only one left standing was the wife, in the center of the three desecrated bodies. She smiled, maybe the first genuine, wicked smile of her life. And then she walked slowly, over to the cliffside, before throwing herself over into the rocky shores. For the price she offered up for her wish was herself.”

Johnson hoots, whistling. “And that,” he raises his glass bottle towards Edgar, “is why they didn’t bring bitches on boats.” All of the men around me cracked up at that; most of the women (save the few who really seemed desperate to impress) rolled their eyes or huffed.

Edgar readjusted his cocky grin, gave everyone a toothy predatory one to seal the deal on the story. “You would think she was long dead, but the island kept her. Uses her to settle its debts. Some say you can still hear her sobbing in the winds, forever ashamed over what she’s done and what she’s become.” He sits back, relaxes, and beacons to the island proper. “So go on! March up that cliffside, profess your desire. You’ll get exactly what you want! But make sure you’re ready to pay a proper price, or else the island won’t be forgiving when it sends its captive witch to collect on your debts… With your life!”

He leans in and shouts the ending, startling one of the ladies around him. We all give a polite round of applause for him, some of the women cheering. Veronica leans over, rubbing my arm. “It’s incredibly late, darling. I’m going back to the boat. Won’t you join me for a little… private celebration?” 

I give her as wide a smile as I can muster, but look up into the stars. She made it very clear that she had no intention of sleeping in the elements, not when there’s a perfectly good yacht right there. But I knew I needed the air, the time to think. “I’m sorry Veronica, but I’m going to stay out here for a while. I need this whole thing to sink in more.”

She frowns, disappointedly. “You are letting it sink in though, right? This is all yours now, darling.” I nod quickly, and she smiles.  “Alright hubby. But if you take too long to join me, you’re going to have to sleep alone. Can’t have my beauty sleep interrupted after all!” She gets up, sauntering over to the boat. She stops to turn her head over her shoulder towards me with a wink for one final word of the night. “Take care out here. Don’t want the witch woman to get you, after all.”