The Siren who swallowed a pearl

There was once a Siren who swallowed a pearl. It was a particularly stormy day and the Siren had climbed down to the water’s edge to enjoy the full force of the waves. She found an oyster with a damaged shell and picked it up. She could see the pearl gleaming inside it. She prised it open with her claws and held the pearl up to her lips. It made her mouth water with longing for the distant shores where the oysters lived. She couldn’t resist rolling it around on her tongue.

"Why shouldn’t I?" she thought. "I’ve as much right as anyone. And I’m the one who found it."

So, without stopping to think of the consequences, she gulped it down. At first she felt no different. She was even a little disappointed. Surely there should be some reward for her daring act. She returned to the summit where her sisters were gathered, making their beds with fresh seaweed and barnacles. She hummed a tune half heartedly and gazed out to the horizon, trying to will a ship to appear. It was some minutes before she realised something was wrong. Hers was the only voice to be heard and even the storm seemed subdued.

"What is it?" she asked hopefully.

The other sirens looked away. No one wanted to be the first to speak.

She narrowed her eyes. "Lost your tongues?" she mocked.

The sirens pretended to be too busy picking the fleas from each other’s feathers to hear her. The Siren glared at them defiantly. "Well?" she hissed.

There was a terrible silence where even the waves dare not break and the winds held their breath. At last one of the other sirens spoke. "Look at yourself," she ordered. "What have you done?"

"I haven’t done any…" Her voice suddenly failed her. Her eyes widened in horror. "What’s happening to me?" she whispered. She began to quiver with fright.

"Stop it," the others squawked. "You’re making it worse." They hopped from foot to foot, drawing back from her in disgust, then creeping nearer in fascination.

"No…." the Siren sobbed and her cry echoed from the rocks and rolled round and round them.

"What have you done?" one of the elder sirens repeated. "Out with it."

"Nothing.. nothing.." she croaked, but there was no point in denying it. Every time she moved something dropped off. Her salty crust was cracking even as she spoke. Flakes of it floated in the air like snow. "I.. I…" she hesitated, then forced the words out. "I swallowed a …"

"Aahh" the others screeched in unison. "Stop. Don’t speak that dreadful word or we’ll all be lost."
"How could you!"
"You know it’s forbidden."
No one has ever dared before.."
"You’ll ruin us all!"
"Traitor."
"Trollope!"

"I was weak, I admit," the Siren tried to defend herself. "But how was I to know this…" She held out her hands. The newly exposed skin was red and raw.

"What do all the stories tell you?" a young siren demanded.

"Have pity. Look at me. Look how bare I am. Look at my hair. I’ve lost everything.. all my treasures.." And it was true. All the shells and stones had fallen from her locks and rolled back into the ocean, taking her secrets with them.

The sirens turned their backs and covered their ears. Her transformation appalled them. Her skin was as smooth and bare as a drowning sailor’s. Even the redness was fading. All the shades of the sea were gone. The greens and blues and purples of the deep water… the glitter of gold…. the reds of anemones and coral.. had all departed leaving her palely bereft. All the fabulous encrustations that are a sirens delight were gone.

"What shall I do? Where shall I go? I’m ruined, ruined."
Her wailing was too terrible to hear. The other sirens turned as one and began to pelt her with stones. The Siren screamed as she tried to protect herself. Her skin was so tender. The pain was unbearable. Even the waves fled in terror, leaving fish gasping for air and whole villages submerged.

At last she could stand no more. She flung herself into the sea and swam as fast as she could, until the stones no longer reached her and the awful hissing and screeching of her sisters had faded away.

The Siren swam all day and all the next night before she saw land ahead. She let the current carry her towards a group of rocks that lay just beyond the shore. There must be some dark cave that would hide her. She couldn’t bear to look on her terrible pale skin. Her wings must be bare bone, so many feathers had floated past her.

But when she tried to climb out of the water her fingers couldn’t grip the rock. Her feet slipped on the weed covered surfaces below the water. Barnacles tore her skin. Seabirds rose from their nests and taunted her.

"Is there no place of refuge for me in this world?" she cried. "Where can I go? What will become of me? Is there no other like myself? I cannot bear to be so alone. I cannot survive another night in these cold waters. All of Nature has forsaken me. The Wind no longer tangles my hair … the Waves will not carry me …. the Rocks will not shelter me. Will no one pity me?"

The Elements gathered together to discuss her plight.
"I will not have her," the Ocean roared.
"Nor I!" answered the Sky.
"She’s nothing to do with me," the Earth insisted.
"I cannot offer her a home," the Flame said, "but one must be found. Too much grieving will unbalance the world. Then where will we all be?"

There was so much muttering and shaking of heads that the Heavens trembled and the poles faltered on their axis.

While the Elements were engrossed in their debate, a small boat appeared on the horizon. A fisherman was returning home with his catch, when he heard the Siren’s cries. As if in a trance, his hands worked the engine and the little boat turned from the safe channel and headed for the rocks. He was filled with such a sense of longing that he braved the great crests and swells of the turbulent waters without a thought to his own safety.

Guided by her gleaming flesh, he cast out his net and gathered her up. His muscles strained as he heaved his catch on board. The Siren whimpered with relief and fright combined, but to the fisherman’s ears her cries were as the Music of the Spheres.

"This is surely no ordinary woman," he told himself as he eased her free of the net. He was spellbound by the milky whiteness of her skin and the gleaming silver strands which threaded her hair. He stretched out his hand and lightly touched her cheek. Her skin was so soft and tender she was like one new born.

The Siren opened her eyes. For the first time she dared to look around her. How gently the little boat rocked on the ocean. To her surprise, she felt no regret for the wild waves, no longing for the windswept rocks that had been her home. The man seemed to belong to the sea. He was bare of scales and salty secretions, but he smelt comfortingly of fish and sea breezes. His eyes were as green as a sunny lagoon, his hair as tangled as seaweed that had swirled round in a current.

"This is surely no ordinary man," she told herself. But, to make sure, she began to sing her most heartrending song.

The man leaned back against the cabin door and lit a cigarette. His lip curled into a gentle smile and he began to tap his foot in time to her rhythm.

Their duet caught the Elements by surprise. They stopped arguing and listened. The Flame laughed so loudly that the whole universe was filled with an unseasonal warmth.
To this day, the sirens warn their young not to taste forbidden fruit. They remain on their windswept rocks, admiring their tangled locks and their salt-encrusted skin.

But the Siren and her fisherman wander freely over land and sea, wherever the spirit of adventure takes them.