Sirens (short story)

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“Twenty-eight…twenty-nine…thirty,” counted Jack.

“What?” I asked, distracted by the spectacular autumn view.

“Thirty hikers,” he noted, pulling out his water bottle as we walked the trail, near the rear of the group. “More than expected.”

“And then some,” I said, pointing out one girl crunching dead leaves underfoot. “I thought this hike was just for our men’s Bible study.”


“Was,” he said. “But a few of us are helping at church with ESL – you know, English as a Second Language?”

“Yes, I know,” I said impatiently, wondering why my friend had brought sunglasses for a late-afternoon hike that would stretch into the evening.

“Most of ‘em are ‘au pairs’,” he said, pointing out one struggling with a too-large backpack. “Glorified babysitters, here to learn English and see America. Seems like it’ll be nice to have them join us – always good to have girls along, right?”

“Not my type,” I muttered.

“Didn’t say they were,” smiled Jack.

“Didn’t have to,” laughed Theo, loping up alongside. “Hey, Jack, go work your bilingual charm.”

“Adios, señors,” he waved, picking up the pace to catch up with the patch of people ahead.

“Don’t let him get to you,” said Theo cheerily, patting me on the back with his massive hands.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Whoah, time out,” chortled Theo, unfazed. “What’s your problem, friend? Don’t like hikes?”

“I love hikes,” I retorted, “but I don’t need him to remind me about…”

“Calm down, friend,” he said, fall breeze whipping around his huge frame. “In case you’d forgotten, we’re in a Bible study for single men. Emphasis on ‘single’. So obviously you’re not the only one here who’s ever been dumped.”

“Spare me the pep talk,” I bit acidly, kicking a rock off the path. “I’ve heard it a dozen times already.”

“Just trying to help,” he shrugged, straining to see ahead. The lead hiker had already slipped out of sight along the steep trail, as the chain of thirty hikers gradually stretched out between the swift and slow. “I bet Bill is out front, like usual.”

“Why don’t you go see?”

Theo tilted his head at me, then smiled.

“If I hadn’t been in your same position three months ago,” he said glibly, “I might be offended.”

“Thanks for your understanding,” I said crisply.

“No problem,” he said, still smiling. “But be careful brushing off your friends. You never know when you’ll see them next.”

“But I do know,” I said coolly. “Four miles from now we’ll all meet together at the top. And four miles after that we’ll meet again at the campground.”

Theo almost lost his smile, but quickly recovered.

“I guess it’s time to check on Bill.”

He picked up speed and advanced to the next rung of hikers. By now our line had thinned out such that I could see only a half-dozen hikers in front or behind me.

“You seem distant,” said Vinson, striding up to me.

“Not you too.”

“So much for ‘seem’,” he chomped, mouth full of trail mix and waistline full of ice cream. “Try talking to these au pairs. They’re great! They laugh at all my jokes.”

“They don’t understand English,” I countered.

“Of course they know English,” said Vinson, chomping another indiscriminate handful. “Maybe not as well as you or me, but they know it well enough to get by. I should know, I’ve been talking with them this whole hike.”

“Keep up the good work,” I said insincerely.

“Hey, and now that you’re unconnected…” he winked, poking me.

“Don’t.”

“There’s this one great girl – Portuguese, I think. Something European. I could introduce you…”

“You could,” I agreed. “But don’t.”

“Wow, you are in a bad mood,” said Vinson, surprised. “Want to talk about it?”

“No,” I said, surrounded by leaves the color of her hair.

“What about…”

“No, no, no, no, and no.”

The endless line of trees along the trail momentarily broke, presenting a glorious vista along the valley below, blanketed by leaves.

“Because, see, one of these ESL girls…” he said, indiscreetly pointing to a girl in the pocket directly behind us.

“Who invited them, anyway?” I flared. “I thought this was a men’s hike. Just us guys out in the woods. We’ve almost three dozen guys in our study, and this was maybe the one time this year that our schedules let us all get together. Why should they…”

“Look, I don’t know,” he interrupted, caught off-guard. “Maybe Jack or I or someone mentioned it in one of their ESL classes. So they decided to show up.”

“How many is ‘they’?” I asked, looking back and noting one of my prayer partners flanked by au pairs.

“I don’t know,” he repeated. “A few, I guess. Not enough for all of us!” he added, poking me yet again.

“Let’s wait ‘til we reach the top,” I said, stalling. “Then we can talk.”

“Sure, sure,” he said easily, as oblivious to my discomfort as to the stunning natural views around him. “Talk to you then.”

I was maybe halfway up the trail when one of the girls caught up with me.

“Hello?” she said cautiously, shifting her backpack weight from one arm to the other. “How are you?”

“Fine,” I said, trying to be friendly and failing. “And you?”

“I am well, thank you,” she said, accent thick as cream.

I tried to think of a clever conversation using only one-syllable words.

“That’s nice.”

“Vinson, he tells us so much about you,” she continued, nodding for emphasis and sending blonde hair flying.

“Oh, did he?” I asked archly. “And did he mention Theo?”

“I think so, yes,” said another girl, walking up next to me on my other side, her eyes clear as a sandstorm.

“Well, Theo was talking about you,” I generalized, wriggling free. “He’s right ahead of me on the trail – you should catch up with him.”

The girls exchanged glances.

“I think you are right,” said the second, whose origin I couldn’t place. “Theo it is!”

To my surprise, the two took off like rockets, sprinting up the hill with their oversized backpacks, and soon out of sight.

“At last,” I thought. “Now for some peace and quiet alone.”

But it occurred to me – as I hiked the rest of the trail to the top completely alone, in screaming peace and quiet – that I was an idiot.

Worse, an obnoxious idiot.

“How stupid am I, anyway?” I asked aloud, watching leaves flutter aimlessly.

The further I walked, the more extensively my conscience explained it to me.

“This was dumb on so many levels,” I rued. “I’ve alienated my best friends, offended our guests, and ruined a perfectly good hike.”

There was just one solution.

“I’ll apologize to Theo,” I resolved, as the end of the trail loomed.

As I turned the final corner, I caught my breath. The sunset-stained sky spilled orange and yellow across the fast-moving clouds, flying above an ocean of orange and yellow trees, with whispers like…

“Hey, finally!” shouted Jack, motioning for me to join him on a rock. “We’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

…like fifteen ESL students chatting quietly in their first languages.

“Jack, I’m sorry that I…um, what are all of them doing here?”

“Oh, ‘them’?” he winked behind his sunglasses. “Same thing as us, hiking, remember?”

He whipped out a camera and took a shot of the glistening valley, “accidentally” catching four unnaturally thin au pairs in the foreground.

“I don’t remember there being this many,” I said, counting again to make sure.

“I thought you said they weren’t your type,” he snickered.

I was about to spit out a retort before recalling that I’d just apologized a moment before – and still had apologies to go.

“Whatever, whatever, whatever,” I mumbled. “Look, where’s Theo?”

“What do you mean?” asked Jack.

“You know, Theo – big guy, plays football, always smiling?”

“I don’t think he came today,” Jack yawned.

“Oh, I’m sure he came,” I insisted. “We were talking and – wait, he was talking with you, too. Right at the start of our hike. Remember?”

Jack paused, whispers littering the background.

“No, I think you’re confused,” he decided. “Maybe you’re thinking of last month’s hike.”

“Take off the sunglasses, Jack, and look around,” I said firmly. “He said he was going to catch up with Bill and…”

“See, there’s your problem,” said Jack, unwilling to remove the oh-so-cool shades while surrounded by oh-so-cute girls. “Bill’s not here either.”

“That’s crazy!” I sputtered. “No, I mean – Bill’s crazy. He’s obsessed about hiking. He’s never missed a chance to hike. The man doesn’t even own a car so he can walk more, for goodness’ sake! Of course he’s here!”

“Did you see him?” he asked.

Now it was my turn to pause, trying to think above the whispers.

“No,” I admitted. “But I did see Theo. And he said he was looking for Bill.”

“You’re thinking of last month,” he decided, shaking his head.

“Listen…”

“What is wrong, Jack?” asked one of the ESL girls, weighed down by her backpack. “Oh, this is the friend you wanted to meet me!”

“Charmed,” I said frostily, not even taking the hand she extended. “Have you seen Theo?”

“Who is Theo?” she wondered aloud, with a voice like broken church bells.

“Let me help you with that backpack,” said Jack, looking for an excuse to be chivalrous.

“Oh, no, no thank you,” she shrank, backing away and clutching at the straps. The bulging pack was clearly weighing her down.

“Hey, we’re taking a snack break over here,” interrupted Vinson, walking over and pulling at my sleeve, leaving a sticky candy stain. “Join us here in the sun.”

“What’s left of it, anyway,” I said, eyeing the fading sunset.

“I found one who speaks kinyaRwandan. I can’t even spell that!”

“I’m sorry, Vinson,” I said, casting about apologies with reckless abandon, “but I really couldn’t…”

“Of course you can,” he said none too quietly, pulling me over to a leaf carpet where a trio of girls were experimenting with long English words, bouncing them off some of my Bible study partners.

“Extravaganza!” laughed one brunette, overcome. “Extravaganza, extravaganza!”

I tried to make my smile friendly.

“Next you’ll be teaching them about the Jabberwocky.”

“Jabber-what?”

“Never mind. Look, apologies,” I said, including the other guys in my blanket apology, “but I’m going to start heading back down the trail.”

“Why will you leave us?” asked one of the ESL girls.

“I’m slow,” I lied. “If I don’t start down the hill now, I’ll never make it back before dark.”

“That is just A-OK,” said the brunette. “But be there tonight for the extravaganza!”

And they went right back to talking and laughing and whispering.

I was maybe halfway down the mountain when I finally noticed that the sun was truly, finally gone. I fumbled in my pocket for my flashlight, and turned around. A chain of lights, like pixies, snaked its way down the path.

“There you are!”

Two of the pixies caught up with me.

“We looked for you but could not find you,” said the first, her light glinting off her perfect teeth.

“We want so much to talk with you,” said the second. I couldn’t place her accent, or her face, or even where she was trying to point her flashlight. “Talk with us.”

“How do you, uh…like the hike?”

“We enjoy it very much,” said the first, giggling. “And you?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” I agreed, rolling my eyes in the darkness. “It’s been great.”

“I wonder if you would help me with something,” said the second one, pressing against me.

“You’ll excuse me…”

Their flashlights switched off.

“Must be a bad battery,” said the first, still giggling. “What do you think?”

“I think you need to wait for me!” boomed Vinson, slapping me on the back. “Man, you outpaced us all! And now I can see why you were in such a hurry!”

“What a happy surprise!” said the second, turning the full force of her moonlit smile on him. “We were just telling our friend here that our flashlights do not light. And you have a flashlight.”

“Never fear, girls,” he said, waving a flashlight heavy enough to fend off a doberman. “Let’s go start that campfire!”

“And you will come with us?” the second asked me plaintively.

“I’ll catch up.”

“Then wish me luck,” said Vinson, whispering to me in his all-too-audible way. “I only wish I had a miner’s helmet so I could have one arm for each!”

“A miner’s helmet!” chortled the first, taking his hand as they slipped down the path. “That is so, how does one say, ironic?”

As I descended in the dark, slouched and slow, I felt worse and worse. I was in a bad mood because I didn’t feel like I deserved to be in a bad mood. I hadn’t been this antisocial since high school, but my shame didn’t make me any more outgoing – to the contrary, I shuffled along, avoiding all conversation with the flashlights floating past.

“This is the worst hike ever,” I muttered, finally reaching bottom both literally and metaphorically at the end of the trail, right at the parking lot. “And it’s my fault.”

If I hadn’t gotten a ride to the mountain in Jack’s car, I would’ve driven home then and there.

“Steel yourself,” I said self-mockingly, turning my feet to the basecamp, where the celebration had already begun.

“Hey!” shouted Jack, running up to me as I approached the huge campfire. “You’re missing all the fun!”

Around the campfire, roasting marshmallows, were at least two dozen girls, whispering at a rapid pace.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“They’re all here,” he said, waving his hand around the fire. All the girls still wore their huge backpacks.

Nothing shatters self-pity like a good dose of inexplicable terror.

“I mean, Vinson, Theo…you know…the guys…”

I couldn’t tell whether he was staring as blankly as me because he still had his sunglasses – as usual, he kept them on well after dark.

“They didn’t come, remember?” he grinned. “Just us, man – us and the ladies. Good odds, don’t you think?”

“Yoo hoo! Jack!” called one of the ESL girls, with what looked like an entire bag of marshmallows on her stick. “Come sit with us!”

Jack lifted his sunglasses just enough so I could see him wink.

“We’re coming!” he said.

“No, we’re not,” I said, seizing his hand.

“Oh, come on, tell me we’re not going to go over this again.”

I set myself like a statue.

“Get over it, already. I’m your friend, and I can tell you…”

“This isn’t about her!” I snapped. “There’s something…something very wrong here.”

“What could be wrong about…”

I pulled the crumpled flyer from my backpocket.

“Read this, Jack,” I flared, somewhere between anger and desperation. “See? It says it’s a men’s hike. Men’s. So why do we have only us two as the token males surrounded by about thirty girls?”

“We changed the plans, don’t you remember?”

“Remember? Don’t you remember talking with other guys earlier on the hike?”

He took off his sunglasses.

“I thought you were just depressed,” he said, looking at me closely. “Maybe you’re really sick.”

“Me? Me?” The wave of whispers continued to flow from the campfire. “Jack, I was just in the parking lot, and all those cars are owned by guys in our study. Where are they now?”

“Jack, my graham crackers are getting cold,” protested one of the ESL girls. “Come and show us how this works.”

“We probably loaned them the cars,” he considered, replacing the sunglasses over his eyes.

“Then loan me yours.”

“What?”

“I can’t stay here any longer,” I said. “Give me your car keys.”

“Jack!” called out a feminine chorus.

“Keys!”

Jack dug in his pocket and dropped them in my shaking hand.

“Someday you’ll get over her,” he said, slapping my back. “But since that’s not tonight, I won’t let your problem ruin my evening.”

I grabbed his hand.

“Please don’t go.”

Again the sunglasses came off.

“Whatever are you talking about?”

“Jack, listen, please…I know you don’t understand, but please…”

He shook his head and the sunglasses went right back on.

“Separation anxiety,” he chuckled. “You know, I was wrong. I thought you needed to get over her – but really, you just need to get over yourself.”

And with that, he rejoined the twenty-some twentysomethings around the fire.

I was maybe halfway to the car when I heard something between a thump and a slump.

“Don’t turn around,” I said out loud.

But I did.

No Jack to be seen.

“Leaving so soon?” yelled one of the girls, waving from the campfire.

With that, all the other girls turned to face me, the fire blazing against their shiny eyes and shiny teeth, silent and cold.

I calculated the distance to the car, how much time it would take to find Jack’s car, how long to open the door, how long to start the engine, how long to back it out…

“Don’t go yet!” called another, backpack silhouetted like a hunchback.

And then I noticed, in the trees and bushes around the clearing, hundreds of pairs of eyes, shining and sparkling, as if the campground were surrounded by a horde of deer.

I also noticed that the whispering had stopped.

“We’re having marshmallows!”

I stood in place, deciding, deciding, deciding.

And one by one, each of the girls stood up, bearing up under their backpacks – smiling, silent, and expectant.

I did the only thing I could do.

“Well, ladies,” I said nonchalantly, striding up to the fire, “how about a round of ‘Kum-Buy-Yah’?”

 

Great story - it's always good to see new posts in CS

 

Very good GM, it was a pleasure to read.

 

Well, I am very annoyed that it took me this long to realize the Grey Magistrate has posted a new story after a very long absence.

Thanks, Grey. As usual, very well done.

 

Thanks, everybody! Much appreciated! Hope y'like the other story I posted, too -- "Money". I sure love those one-word titles...