Sing the Siren Song (And Then Clap Your Hand)
by T.S. MillerThere's something important about the number three. Yes, yes, you're right; there's something important about most every number less than three and still quite a few above it. But the number three has something extra important about it. (Certainly, Pythagoras thought so.) For now, you see, three is THE magic number. Our magic number. And theirs.
Three is not two; three is not four. Three is three. This means something. Gods come in threes.
Consider: trinity is a beautiful word. Is there even such a word as binity? Quadrinity? Think about why not.
Three is an important number especially when it comes to girls. (I've heard that panties come in threes; yes, gods and panties.) Powerful women traditionally come in groups of three. Look at all the cases. The Fates. The Furies. The Graeae. The Gorgons. Charlie's Angels.
That's exactly it; think Charlie's Angels. The yet uncelebrated group of females we are about to meet may seem rather reminiscent of that other celebrated group of females. In fact, they are very much like Charlie's Angels, only completely opposite. Because they're negative angels. Demons? Yes, perhaps. It's just that they use their powers for evil. Seducing innocent boys. Stalking boys who aren't so innocent. Harassing strangers. Robbing local bowling alleys. Accumulating excessive library fines. And all of that is just the beginning.
Yes, they do bad things, but all the while they're beautiful. They'd have to be. They dazzle and they bewilder. They sing and they dance. They lure and they ensnare.
First meet O. She might qualify as the unofficial leader of the group. You know what I mean? Of course they don't have a leader; they're a tried-and-true triumvirate. But you know that. In any group of three, there's always that one who's different. That one who seems to be the most powerful, that one who seems to have the most... presence. There's always that scheming Caesar hiding in the triumvirate. But fear not for our other two demons. O. has never suffered from the curse of ambition. And don't underestimate the prowess of her companions, either.
Take Che, for example. She's the one with the lean and hungry look. Don't worry, though. She's healthy. It's possible that she's the singing seed, in a manner of speaking. After all, she'll do most anything for a dollar. (But don't worry.)
Now look at Kaykos. You can tell by the name. She's definitely number three of three. You know what I mean. She's the Third, and everything that implies. The dangerous one. In a confrontation, she could certainly give O. a run for her money. They say she's witty, very witty, but also very scheming. Aren't they all, though? They'd have to be. It goes with the good looks.
So that's what they're like, in a nutshell. (They wouldn't fit in a nutshell, not a nutshell of any size. You can't tie them down.) But don't take my word for it. Watch them in action.
Let's start with their humble beginnings. With their petty thefts and pettier seductions.
With hindsight, it's not hard to tell what turned them to a life of crime. They were driven by the ordinary things that drive people to commit terrible deeds. Lust, power, greed, youth, things like that.
In those early days, they were also acclaimed Karaoke Laureates. Because of course they were musically talented, too, each of them, all of them. They were decent, respectable folks. Universally loved and applauded. Who could have imagined what they would become?
You see, as soon as the Three realized that they were female, they also realized that nothing could stop them.
(1)
A lonely summer night.
They were waiting outside the bowling alley, waiting to descend upon it at just the right moment.
"We need to get a guy to buy us food and stuff," said Kaykos suddenly. (She was already scheming, even then.)
"Oh, yes," agreed Che.
O. graced the group with a nod.
They continued waiting for a minute or so.
"Let's go in." It didn't matter which one of them said it. The thought was in all of their minds.
So they went in.
They bowled strenuously for a good half hour or so, building up a small cloud of pheromones and adding that vigorous rosy color to their cheeks.
And then he walked in. A perfect target. He was older than they were, yet not too old to know better. They pretended not to notice him.
He noticed them. Of course he walked right over to their lane. He knew them. There was much recognition and rejoicing. He attached himself to their group, but he was never truly a part of their group. He lacked many of the necessary attributes and assets. But he was content to sit with them and bowl with them and watch them and breathe them in. They continued in this manner for a short while.
It was O. who began the attack.
"____, I'm thirsty!" She leaned on him just the slightest bit.
Che spotted her opening and battle was joined. "I'm thirsty, too!" She grabbed his hand and wrapped her pinky around his. The touch was electric, I'm sure.
Kaykos knew what to do. The setup was perfect. After this point, victory was really inevitable. She didn't even have to touch him. "Get us drinks, ____!"
"Yeah, get us drinks!" They all smiled sweetly, so sweetly.
"Please!"
"Please?"
"Please."
There was quite a bit of eye-batting going on, and just that slightest bit of physical contact. They had it down pat.
He got them drinks. (Fortunately, he only had to spend all of five dollars; they were out of nachos.) But how could he have refused them, all three of them? Maybe he could have resisted one, and maybe, maybe even two, but three? He was only a man!
"Thanks, ____!"
"You're a peach!"
"You're a gem!"
He didn't say anything. He voice hadn't found its way back to his body yet. He did manage to grin a little, though.
Poor ____. He wasn't their first victim, and he wouldn't be their last.
Perhaps at this point I should introduce myself. How do I know these things? How did I come into contact with these demons three? Well, I was there that night. I guess it really was that one lonely summer night that launched their colorful careers. I can't say that I was particularly lucky to be there.
You see, I'm a victim, too.
That was the same night, the same night I witnessed them first turn their predations from mere boys to mighty corporations and local places of business. They robbed the bowling alley. They took not one, not two, but three pairs of those stylish bowling shoes. Actions like that can be traced to an unofficial motto of theirs: "Whatever you do, do it in threes."
And where did they go from there...
(2)
It was a lonely summer afternoon. The Three were together. (That goes without saying.)
It was a lonely summer afternoon and it was time to do something big.
"It's time to do something big," said O.
"I agree," agreed Che.
Kaykos was silent. She brooded.
"Whaddya think?" asked O. impatiently.
Kaykos smiled. "Let's play Pretty Pretty Princess."
O. resumed staring. "You're kidding, right? You call that big? Besides, we played that just last week."
Kaykos was still smiling.
"Strip Pretty Pretty Princess. With the guys."
O. looked sullen. "You know I'm not allowed to play board games with guys. Not after the Don't Wake Daddy incident."
Kaykos's nostrils flared. "Well maybe Che and I will just ditch you and play ourselves! More guys for us!"
O. was about to deliver a cutting remark, but Che cut in ahead of her.
"We could go to Las Vegas," she suggested cautiously. Since the other two looked something like interested, she had the courage to continue. "Because if you can make it there, you'll make it anywhere."
The other two stared at her blankly. (Always watch what they're doing with their eyes.)
"What? That's how the song goes, isn't it?" She suddenly burst into song. That sometimes happened with Che.
"If I can make it there, I'll make it a-ny-where!"
"That's right, Che," soothed O. It wasn't that Che was a bad singer. In fact, she was rather unbad. She just got overly enthusiastic sometimes, and O. didn't particularly care to hear the rest of the song. She was too busy thinking of all the things they could do in Las Vegas.
"I'm game," said O. and Kaykos at the same time. They narrowed their eyes at each other menacingly, and then giggled.
Che smiled, thought better of it, and then giggled instead. "Let's go, then!"
And a few days and a few Greyhounds later, there they were. The other city that never slept.
Well, they were almost there. They actually ended up in a suburb somewhere. But that was fine by them. The Three knew well what adventures could be found in the suburbs. (Besides, they didn't look a thing like 21, or even 18, and that meant the city itself wouldn't really be any fun.)
They decided to celebrate their arrival by playing one of their favorite games.
The Three found a secluded dumpster in a secluded parking lot. In unison they cried, "Let's see who can get their bra on the fastest!"
They traditionally played the game with all their clothes on, of course, but a passing gang of would-be peeping Toms didn't know this. (It wasn't that secluded a parking lot.)
The gang of Toms took up positions behind the dumpster, disappointed that the girls were all dressed, but not too disappointed. Because, after all, they were still girls, and the Toms thought they were interested in the sort of girls that played that sort of game.
"Aah! Peeping Toms!" cried Che.
"Hi, guys!" said Kaykos.
This could have been an awkward moment for the Toms, but luckily (or maybe unluckily - just watch how all this plays out) one of the more courageous of them stepped forward.
"Hey, girls," he said smoothly. "We were just on our way to play some paintball...you girls wanna come?"
Coyly, Kaykos replied, "Well, we don't have any equipment or anything."
"Don't worry; we'll pay for your guns." One of the lesser Toms snickered. The Three pretended not to notice.
"You pinky promise?" asked Che. (That's always been how they bind people to their will.)
The leader of the Toms looked confused, and he looked around at the other girls. They were all smiling encouragingly (even invitingly, he thought), so he accepted Che's extended pinky and sealed the devil's bargain.
Served him right, the pervert.
It was about twenty minutes later, and O. was starting to get bored. She had hit two of the guys, multiple times, in the back of the head. And when I say multiple times, well, let's just say that it was a lot more than three. She only ever made anyone surrender so she'd be able to get in a few more clean shots. O. was ruthless.
Yet she was bored. She decided to head back towards the fort. On the way, however, she spotted more movement in the distance. Though once O. had the target in her crosshairs, it wasn't hard to tell that it was Che. None of the guys would be picking flowers.
O. gave the birdcall that signaled the approach of an ally. Only then she remembered that she had neglected to teach Che any of the birdcalls, so she just kept sneaking up on the innocent flower-picker.
"Che," said O., her voice suddenly low and deadly serious.
"What?"
"What's that in your hand?"
"Oh, it's for the fort. It'll make good camouflage, don't you think?"
"Che," O. repeated. "Put. The flower. Down. Now! And walk away. Slowly."
"O.? Are you feeling okay? It's just a flower."
"Yeah, just a flower, only that flower happens to be an Amargosa niterwort!"
"Is that bad?"
"Che. Think about what you're saying. The Amargosa niterwort is the most endangered niterwort in the free world!"
Che dropped the flower. "Uh-oh," she said. Her skin begin to pale visibly. None of the Three felt any qualms about committing crimes against humanity, but a crime against ecology was another matter entirely.
O. relaxed a little after the flower hit the ground. "Don't worry; it was just one. As long as we bury it and get away from here, no one will notice."
"Um," said Che.
"What?"
"Er..."
"Che? It was only one, wasn't it?"
"Well, see, I - We needed a lot of camouflage - "
O. immediately started sprinting the short distance back to the fort. (It takes a lot to make O. sprint.) Che followed behind.
The expansive structure was now entirely covered with uprooted Amargosa niterworts. Petals and leaves had been quite strategically placed, and quite liberally applied. The fort certainly was well camouflaged. It didn't look like a lean-to any more at all, but rather a heap of rare Amargosa niterworts. O. tried to count them all, assessing the irreparable ecological damage Che had done to the state of Nevada, but she gave up after three baker's dozen.
And just to top it all off, Kaykos was dead. Thick red gore was splattered all over her body.
"O.," Che whispered breathlessly, "they got her."
"They did it from behind, too, those gutless poltroons!" O. shook her fist at the heavens. "But we don't have time to deal with them! Any minute now, these woods are gonna be crawlin' with agents from the FWS!"
"Crappers!" exclaimed Che. "But what's the FWS?"
"The US Fish and Wildlife Service," said Kaykos, rising to her feet. "O.'s right. They're be here soon. And the FWS doesn't take prisoners. We need to get out of here. And fast." Kakyos toyed with the ends of her shirt, futilely trying to wipe off some of the paint. "This better wash out."
"Okay. Let's think. We should travel light. But we can't leave the guns behind. Throw off all your gear. But yeah, definitely take the guns. If they think we're armed, it might put us in a better position to negotiate." The Three were ready to go as soon as O. finished speaking.
O. nodded, and they started running.
A few hundred yards behind them, a voice cried out, "Hey!" It was the leader of the Toms. O. didn't even have to look back to know it was him. She also didn't have to look back to know that all five of his remaining cohorts flanked him. "Wait! Where are you going? You're out of bounds!"
"Sorry guys!" O. shouted, without looking back.
"Those guns were rentals!"
The Three kept running, never looking back.
"Thanks, guys!"
"You're peaches!"
"You're gems!"
And O. shot the leader right in the facemask, without looking back.
A few hours later, the Three were still moving, but at a casual trot. They felt safer, but they were not out of the woods quite yet.
"Isn't this fun, guys? We're hiking in the wilderness! The real wilderness! Not on some janky little trail! This is living!"
"Che, we're not hiking in the wilderness. We're fleeing the authorities because you destroyed a national ecological treasure, bringing an entire species just that much closer to extinction."
"Oh, O., you're just upset 'cause we lost those guys. But be of good cheer; we'll find more! For now, let's have some fun!" Fresh air and niterwort fragrance always put Che in high spirits, no matter what the situation. "Let's play a game!"
Surprisingly, Kaykos agreed, "Yeah. Let's find a badger and charm it."
"Badgers are mean little beasties, I hear. Not even you could seduce a badger."
"And more importantly, there aren't any badgers in Nevada!
"Well, what is there in Nevada, then?"
"Trees! There are trees!"
"Keep your voices down! Remember the FWS?"
"The FWS is just a legend made up to frighten little children."
Che blinked. "Um, guys, who just said that? It wasn't one of us."
"I did." An old man stepped out from behind a tree. He was wearing a hat. He tipped the hat. "Good day to you."
"Aah!" cried O. "You're a scary old man!"
The scary old man looked hurt. "I just thought I might be able to help you. You looked lost. There's a trail leading out of this forest just a mile or two from here."
"We don't want to walk on some janky trail!"
O. elbowed Che. "Go on," said O.
The scary old man took off his hat, wiped his brow, and pointed to the southwest, hat still in hand. "Just go that way, as the crow flies. You can't miss it. Continue on that trail for a few more miles, and you'll end up in a parking lot." He looked the girls up and down. "I trust from there you'll be able to get a ride somehow?" He put his hat back on.
"Yeah, we'll manage," said O. "Thanks for your help!"
"You're a gem," said Kaykos, not very enthusiastically.
O. elbowed Che again. "A real peach." With that Che started running in the direction the scary old man had pointed.
Kaykos ran after her. O. made an apologetic gesture and followed suit.
"But it's true about the FWS!" he called after them. "They don't exist! Nothing exists! There is no god but philosophy!"
And so they went home. They managed. And the FWS never found them, though I hear nowadays there are more than a few warrants out for their arrest.
Even though the Las Vegas adventure hadn't turned out quite the way they'd hoped, they still came out on top.
They got to keep the guns.
And what happened next...
(3)
A lonely summer morning. Early morning. Think three a.m. morning.
"Let's keep this one short and surreal, girls."
"Good idea, O."
It wasn't exactly a karaoke bar. There wasn't exactly a microphone. But the Three were gracing all who cared to listen with their best rendition of "It's Raining Men."
The performance lasted about five minutes, but it seemed like hours to the lonely Asian seated in the corner. It was so moving that he forgot which country he was from. The past didn't matter to him any more.
Only she mattered.
Her, the Greek one.
The one on the end.
Number Three of Three.
She had such a lovely voice.
As the last beautiful note rang in the Asian's ears, he stumbled up from his table and started groping blindly towards the Three. He wasn't blind; he just liked groping as if he were. People gave him space.
Kaykos sucked in a quick breath when she saw him. "Che, O., it's him!"
"Who?" asked Che.
"The Asian! He's coming for me!"
"Don't be silly," said O. "He's obviously coming for me. Why should you get the romance with the Asian?"
"I'm just destined for Romance," said Kaykos, and she was right, right about a lot of things.
The Asian drew near. "I love you," he said quite simply. "I've loved you ever since I first heard your voice. Even before I ever saw your beautiful face."
Kaykos sighed. Then she blushed. "Oh," she said.
"What?" asked O.
"Will you kiss my hand?" Kaykos managed to say.
"No way!" exclaimed O.
The Asian shook his head at her foolishness. She was young and immature. His Greek goddess was young and beautiful. He kissed her hand.
Kaykos smiled. "Girls, if you'll excuse us?" Kaykos and her love walked outside of the establishment.
Kaykos inhaled the fragrant smoke-free air. Casually she asked, "You wouldn't happen to a weatherman by any chance, would you?"
"No," said the Asian, slightly concerned. "Is that a problem? I could learn."
"No...that's okay. Don't change yourself for me. I love you just the way you are." She smiled at the Asian. The Asian smiled back at her. They were very much in love.
For five minutes they stood next to one another, relishing the wonder of their love. It seemed like hours to the Asian. Then hours stretched into years. It seemed like years to the Asian.
Cautiously, hesitantly, shyly, chokingly, he asked, "Would you love me if I weren't an Asian?"
Kaykos could only stare at him.
"I can see it in your eyes! You wouldn't! And you can't bear to lie to me!"
"Oh, Asian! I could see the hurt in your eyes! I'm sorry!"
"Then I fear I cannot love you any more."
"What?!"
("That's called an interrobang," O. whispered to Che; naturally they were both eavesdropping.)
"I fear I cannot love you any more."
"But why not?!" Kaykos appeared to be on the brink of tears.
"Please, get away from me. I cannot bear to look upon your pretty face or hear your pretty voice any more."
"You used to say I was beautiful!"
The Asian just shook his head and walked off into the false dawn.
"It's okay, girl! We're here for you!" O. and Che detached themselves from the shadows, in the classiest of styles.
"You! You were eavesdropping!"
"That's what friends are for," said O.
"Ah, I suppose so..." Kaykos sighed. Then she smiled dreamily.
"Why are you smiling?" asked Che. "Your true love just walked out on you!"
Kaykos sighed again. "I'm just looking ahead to a future romance. I know it will be so much better than this one. I only hope it lasts as long. You see, Mother always said I would fall in love with a weatherman."
"You're a survivor, Kaykos," said O.
"Hey, look!" Che cried, pointing rudely. "Forget about the Asian! Look over there! It's our friend the scary old man! Let's say hi!"
Che and O. dragged Kaykos over to the picnic table where he was seated.
"Remember us?" asked O.
"Hiya!" said Che, not allowing him to answer. "Sorry I acted funny before. I have mood swings. What are you doing here at 3 a.m.? Don't you live alone in Nevada! You didn't follow us back home to Kentucky, did you? Oh, well. Anyway, so what's your name, scary old man?"
"Deus," he said. "Deus Ex Machina."
"Well, thanks again, Mr. Machina!" O. thought about giving him a hug, then decided against it. They wouldn't be needing anything else from him.
"What's the X stand for?" asked Che.
"Xenophobe," he replied, after a moment's thought.
"Scary!" Kaykos hissed to Che.
Che ignored her. "Like my friend said, thanks for saving our butts again!" Immediately she regretted saying that. Oh, please please don't say something creepy about our butts! she thought.
"Or maybe xylophone," he said lazily, staring off into the distance. "I can't remember."
"Okay, let's go now," Che said nervously. She felt like she was swinging.
"Bye scary old man!" The Three didn't run away this time, but they definitely walked rather swiftly. They walked out into the darkness.
"Or was it Xeno? No, my parents never would've named me after a philosopher." The girls were out of his sight by now. "Wait! It doesn't stand for anything! Symbols are inherently meaningless! It's up to the individual to infuse meaning into substance and substance into meaning!" It never occurred to him that they might not be able to hear him. "We are all of us Bodhisattvas!"
"Yeah, he's as scary as ever," said Che.
"But you just had to say hi," complained Kaykos.
"Hey, uh, where are we going exactly?" asked O., still the practical one.
"I dunno. But look! Motorcycles!" Che hopped on top of a shiny red one. Kaykos got on behind her. "And look, there's an O.-sized sidecar!"
O. had a bad feeling about this, but she wasn't about to say so. She didn't want to sound cliché.
"Wow, who left the keys in?"
"Che, you don't have a motorcycle license. Don't do anything silly. I'm getting out of this sidecar right now." O. didn't make it out of the sidecar in time.
(I have to warn you that things get pretty surreal at this point.)
For a few exhilarating minutes, they raced down a nearby limited-access highway in their shiny red motorcycle.
"Um, Che? What's that behind us?" asked O., a tad nervously. Che turned her head around to see. "Che! Watch the road! Kaykos, look behind us! Is that what I think it is?"
"What? A motorcycle gang chasing us? That's what it looks like to me."
"Look closer," urged O.
"Oh. It looks like the people chasing us are men in bunny suits. Is that what you mean?"
"I like bunny suits!" piped Che, who turned her head back again.
"Che! Road!" O. gripped the sides of the sidecar tightly. "Kaykos, you don't find anything odd and/or disconcerting about men in bunny suits chasing after us on motorcycles?"
"Well," Kaykos said slowly, savoring O.'s obvious distress, "we probably did steal one of their motorcycles, now didn't we? And since when do you not like a bunch of guys chasing after us?
"They're wearing bunny suits! That is so scarier than an old man!"
"Uh-oh," said Che, suddenly realizing that the motorcycles were gaining on them. "This is getting pretty scary. Especially since those aren't nice bunny suits. They're the scary sort of bunny suit."
"What do we do?!" cried O., who was inclined to use the interrobang only in the most dire of circumstances.
"I've got an idea," said Kaykos. "The two of us will distract the bad men with our fearless karaoke singing, and then you'll stun them with your impromptu tap dancing!
"I'm good but not that good!" cried O., who truly wasn't quite that good.
"I wish we had gotten Mr. Machina's cell number!"
Don't worry; the bunny suits never got them, and that wasn't a cliffhanger ending, either.
As a matter of fact, they were ultimately able to escape by shrinking themselves down and hiding inside a tiny clock. (This is a new form of girl power.)
It was a close call that time. But it didn't even slow down their lust for excitement. Nothing slows them down.
Regrettably, they didn't get to keep the motorcycle. It wouldn't fit in the clock.
<br>
There you have it. Their first three adventures. Of course they're still in the business of adventuring.
Sometimes I wonder what they're up to these days. When I'm really feeling paranoid, I'll wonder what they're up to right now. Because, you know, there isn't any doubt that they're up to something. They'd have to be. They're always up to something; always have been, always will be.
So what are they doing right now? Right this instant? Right as I write this, right as you read this?
They could be coming for me, or maybe even for you. Coming with their fancy shoes and awesome karaoke powers and enslaved musclemen.
My advice: lock your door, stuff your ears with wax, and find a mast to tie yourself to.
One of those is bound to work.
©T.S. Miller
T. S. Miller is a native of Edgewood, Kentucky, and he currently attends Kenyon College in Gambier, Ohio, where he is in his second year. There he is busily studying English or classical civilization or some other wonderful liberal art, but mostly he is writing. Thus far he has been published in a few small presses, a fantasy short story by Peridot Books, an e-novella by Eggplant Literary Productions, Inc. and soon a short story by Beyond Centauri.