The Hawk: Part One

  It took another twenty agonizing minutes before Lynne spotted her husband. Eric was wholly human, but very weak, as he grasped the bird bath, trying to stay on his feet. She had sent Renee home, but the tub was filled, and Renee said she would wait for Lynne to call her. Now Lynne ached to assist her husband, but she feared again being sent away. As he continued gripping the bird bath, Lynne inhaled, then stepped from the house. He glanced at her, then nodded. She raced down the path, but slowed as she approached. Then with hesitant steps she stood beside him. She stroked his face, then nodded, as breath reentered her lungs. His skin was warm despite the breeze, and it was his flesh. “Are you all right?” she said quietly.

  “I, I dunno. Help me into the house.”

  She hoisted his thin frame, as he put one arm around her. The stench was overwhelming, of bird, an unclean man, and of dead animals. She didn’t question him further, as he limped, then stopped, then took aching steps. When they reached the patio, he stopped again, then moved from her. He vomited, then went to his knees. Lynne didn’t gaze at what he’d expelled, but she knelt beside him. “What do you need?”

  “Water, a bowl of it, here.”

  She stood, then ran into the house, taking a small plastic tub from under the sink. She filled it halfway, then carefully took it to where he waited. Lynne set it in front of him; Eric submerged his whole face, then quickly pulled back. Lynne shivered, his bird-like tendencies entrenched. Then he set just his mouth into the tub, and she heard slurping sounds. He drank for over a minute, then moved back, sitting on his haunches. She squatted, but left room between them. He didn’t look as bruised as last time, but he was much thinner, and his coloring was strange, as if he had jaundice. She so wanted to caress his face, then speak to him, but perhaps too much stimulation would aggravate him. He needed to wash, then to sleep. Even if he wanted to make love to her, Lynne wouldn’t. He was her husband, but in his mind’s recesses, he was also a hawk, and she just didn’t trust him.

  She wasn’t alarmed by her reaction, for many times Eric had been hesitant when returning, no matter how great was his carnal need. She had always overlooked his anxiety, aware of a deeper longer, and that it wasn’t only he who needed sex. But this time it had taken him ages to change, and that he had thrown up whatever he had recently killed and consumed was new. For some reason, his body hadn’t been able to digest it, or maybe it had been so close to his arrival, he hadn’t wanted to keep it within him.

  All that time, Eric had been staring at her, his eyes trying to convey thoughts, but she couldn’t read him. That also was different, which made Lynne shiver. Previously, once he was a man again, he was her husband too. This time, he was still…. She wasn’t sure who he was. And he wasn’t either, as he inhaled, then cracked his neck. He gazed at her as if wanting the answer, but she shook her head. Then she nodded, opening her arms.

  Immediately he was in her grasp, then he was sobbing, but his cries weren’t solely of a person. They were bird-like squawks, which pierced her ears and her heart. The couple remained on the patio until he had dislodged some of the pain. But as they entered the house, discomfort remained; Eric’s steps were like those of an old man. Lynne half-carried him up the steps, then deposited him in the now luke-warm water. He didn’t complain, and she sat on the floor next to the tub, holding his hand as the scent of fowl inundated the air.

  He bathed twice more, then collapsed into bed. He was asleep before Lynne could ask if he was hungry or thirsty. During his third bath, she caught him again setting his face into the water, sipping, then gulping. She hadn’t put Epsom salts into it, mostly because he wasn’t badly injured. That he might try to drink from it had been an afterthought, but she filed it with other post-transformation facts. Yet those had been for relatively brief episodes compared with this. Once she was certain he was unconscious, she closed their bedroom door, then went downstairs and called the Aherns. Renee answered, and they spoke briefly. Renee had an early shift, and she and Sam would drop off the Snyders’ car on Renee’s way to work. Renee said Sam would keep the key, and Lynne noted that she had an extra. Lynne would go to work tomorrow, but if it was possible, she would rearrange her schedule, using some vacation time. Usually Eric was fine after a day, but this time she had no idea how long he would need her care.

  Lynne started some canned soup, sweeping the living room as it simmered. She put the bag of Sam’s stuff in the kitchen, turned off the flame, then got out some crackers. She ate slowly, trying to absorb what had occurred that afternoon; her husband was home, although he wasn’t yet completely Eric. Renee had seen him arrive, and Eric knew that Renee was in on their secret. Did he wonder about Samuel? What else might Eric be pondering, and from what vantage point? He hadn’t spoken during his baths, other than muttering her name. After he had told her to go away, the only word he’d uttered was Lynne, and it was said in a half-squawk, like his vocal chords were damaged. Or were they permanently altered?

  She looked around the kitchen; night had fallen while Eric was in the tub. All the lights were on, but Lynne felt cold. How would her bed seem, with her husband beside her? He was her husband, mostly. Maybe it would take several days for Eric to recover, then Lynne shook her head. Nothing was certain now, not that it had been earlier that day, or yesterday or last week. She had been aching for his return, and now he was home, but something had changed, not only Eric. Lynne wanted to speak to him, but that too might be time in coming. For a moment, she considered sleeping in the guest room, but if he woke and found himself alone, maybe that would impede his convalescence. Patients healed more rapidly in their own homes, surrounded by those who loved them. Hospitals were for the most infirm, but once a patient was discharged, they seemed to thrive on familiar foods, their own beds, and the routine of normal life. Lynne shrugged. What was normal about Eric now?

  Only his outward appearance looked like the man she had married. What was inside his head? Would he paint again, would he regain his voice? She stirred her soup, then finished it, wrapping up the crackers and putting them away. Her refrigerator was bare, so were the cupboards. She hadn’t stocked up, and had lost weight because of it. She needed to get to the store, for he was as thin as she had ever seen him, and when he did feel like eating, it would need to be nutritious and filling. Both of them could use extra pounds.

  She put the leftover soup in the fridge, then checked that all the doors were locked. It wasn’t that late, but she was weary, and didn’t want to be downstairs; he might need her, not for lovemaking, but to reach the bathroom, or just to be reassured he had made it home. Lynne reached the landing, hearing his deep snores. It sounded like her husband, but the smell that permeated the upper level was clearly that of nature, of a bird. Maybe she would sleep in the guest room; perhaps she couldn’t actually share their bed yet.

  She stepped into their room, but Eric didn’t stir. Lynne gathered nightclothes, and left the door wide open, in part to air it out, and that he might realize why she had left. She padded to the far end of the hall, then turned on the light. The guest room was small, but she was glad for the peace, and that it didn’t stink of bird. She used the toilet, then undressed, leaving her clothes in the bathroom. Getting into bed, she shivered, for the sheets were crisp and cool.

  She fell asleep quickly, but woke with a start at the sound of a mangled cry. Running the length of the hall, she reached her bedroom, but didn’t turn on the light. “Eric, it’s all right honey, I’m right here.”

  “Lynne?” His voice was weak, but it sounded more human than before. “Lynne, where are you?”

  “Do you want the light on?”

  “Yes, please.”

  He was calmer now, so she did as he asked. She squinted, then stared at him. He lay under the blankets, shivering. Lynne got in on her side, breathing through her mouth, but hawk was in every air particle she inhaled. “Eric, are you all right?”

  “Why weren’t you here, where were you?”

  “I was in the guest room. I didn’t want to bo
ther you.”

  He nuzzled against her, and she closed her eyes, trying to accept his warmth, and his need. But the scent was so strong, it made her sick. “Eric, I can’t, honey, please….”

  He pulled away, then touched her face. “Lynne, what? What’s wrong?”

  His tone was uncertain, and mostly sounded like the man he had been. She felt nauseous, her heart torn. There he was, after weeks of being away. But it wasn’t completely him yet, that odor so rank. How could he not notice, or perhaps he had been a hawk for so long, it was all he knew.

  She held his hands, stroking his fingers, taking deep breaths through her mouth. But the stench lingered down her throat. She tried to balance it with his presence, wishing for more strength. If she could channel Renee, she would ask that woman to pray for Lynne to maintain her composure. Or to not throw up in front of her husband.

  Then he jerked away, but his movements were halted. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t, flinging himself back on the bed. “Go, please, before you get sick. I can smell it now, I’m sorry, oh Lynne, I’m so sorry….”

  She began to cry, then reached for his head. He moved from her hand, curling into a ball on his side of the bed. “Go now Lynne, before you….”

  Suddenly Lynne knew another scent, and it was far stronger than her husband. It was the hospital right after the cleaning women had mopped, also of the small chapel off the main lobby. Candle wax was prevalent, alongside something Lynne couldn’t describe, but it wasn’t offensive. It was mysterious, which made her smile, for this entire night had been shrouded in confusion, except for the glorious miracle of Eric’s return. Lynne inhaled again, this time with her nose. Two distinct odors, and one unknown, eased her stomach, bringing her great peace. Then she smiled. “Eric, it’s gone. I don’t know where it went, but the smell is gone. Oh honey, I love you, it was just so strong, but now….” Her inhalations were deep, and in none of them could she detect that invasive aroma. “Eric, baby, please let me hold you.”

  Slowly he turned her way. His face was disheveled and damp, and he took a deep breath. “Where’d it go?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care.” She scooted toward him, her lips trembling, her hands as well. “All that matters is that you’re here, and I love you and….” She placed her face alongside his, their tears mingling. She didn’t kiss him, nor did he try to kiss her, but their arms were wrapped around the other, hands grabby, then tender. He wasn’t hard, but she wasn’t surprised, for it was enough to be close to one so loved and missed. Words were mumbled, their names coupled with grateful musings. Lynne lay on her back, as Eric stretched his frame along hers. Then his sobs erupted, his whole body in spasms. He bawled like a child, while Lynne held on, not letting him go.

  She woke first, calling into work sick. Then she wondered if the car had been returned. The morning was overcast, and in just her robe and slippers, she didn’t want to step outside. Lynne wasn’t hungry, although a cup of coffee would be appreciated. But she wasn’t sure if Eric was up to that scent, sometimes he was off coffee for a day or two. Their lives were restarting, in many ways, and instead she made herself some tea.

  As it brewed, she stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening to his snores. He had never broken down so thoroughly, perhaps he would sleep for much of the day. She still didn’t know any details, other than yesterday a miracle had happened, two of them. Eric’s full transformation back into her husband was one. The other was….

  She sniffed; no trace of bird could be detected. Where had it gone, and how? If she could call Renee at work, Lynne would ask if her friend had been handling those rosary beads sometime late last night. Lynne hadn’t noticed the time, but she had been quite asleep when Eric stirred, that anguished screech stuck in her brain. He was still in flux, but no longer was that odor present. Lynne smiled, mostly at herself. Then she tapped her foot. If Eric could alter so drastically, why weren’t other phenomena applicable?

  Lynne checked on her tea, discarding the bag, adding a little sugar. She stirred it, then sat at the table. She sipped from the edge of her cup, then had a languid sigh. Only once during his breakdown had Eric grown hard, but it hadn’t lasted long. He had been so weak as he fell asleep that Lynne had put the blanket over him, and he hadn’t seemed to move all night. Then she took a quick breath. He was home, he had actually made it home. No longer was she alone, he was just upstairs. If some part of him remained out of her reach, what did it matter? Sam had come back to Renee, and Eric had found his way here, where his wife had been waiting.

  Lynne didn’t think about her infertility, she didn’t consider if Eric might paint again. The biggest gift was where he slept, right over her head. She traced the top of her mug with her forefinger, then tried a taste. It was hot, but pleasant, and she drank half of it, trying to find the best way to celebrate this blessing. Then she smiled at herself; Renee and Sam would tease that her inner need for a savior was showing.

  Then she winced; how would Sam react? She glanced at the counter, his outerwear and that handkerchief waiting for him. She had no idea what Renee had told him, other than Eric had come home. What had Sam permitted her to say, what had Renee been forced to omit? And once Eric was ready for visitors, what would he tell Samuel Ahern? Lynne sighed, finished her tea, then put the cup in the sink. She still wanted coffee, but the tea was a start.

  She returned to their bedroom, but Eric didn’t budge. Gathering clean clothes, she left for the guest room, taking a leisurely bath in the tub only used by Stanford Taylor. She would call him soon, maybe that day, perhaps tomorrow. Then she would let Eric handle the rest. He had never asked her to run interference for him, but over six weeks had passed, and Stanford would want an account for Eric’s absence. Lynne washed her hair, which took extra time, then she rinsed off, pulling the plug. She stood, splashing the last of the water into the drain. She dried herself, dressed, wrapping a small towel around her damp tresses. She didn’t notice the smell of bird anywhere.

  Walking toward her room, she heard Eric stirring. She met him at the door, then led him to their bathroom. He was still unsteady, and she waited for him to exit the bathroom. He leaned on her as they reached the bed, then he stopped. “I love you so much, so much.” He stroked her face, then smiled at her concealed hair. “You didn’t bathe in here?”

  “I didn’t wanna wake you. How do you feel?”

  He smiled. “Like I could sleep for another full day, then a week. But it’s a start.” He nuzzled her brow, then kissed her forehead. “How are you?”

  Her smile was slow, for there wasn’t one answer to that question. She was thrilled for his return, but still worried about him. She was curious about how that stench had vanished, and what the aroma was that she still couldn’t name. She was tired, needed coffee, and some breakfast, but mostly she was…. “I’m fine now Eric. You’re home, that’s all that matters.”

  “Are you really okay?”

  “Are you?”

  He chuckled softly, then sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know, I mean, I’m here, and I’m human again, so I guess it worked. But….” He inhaled, then looked around the room. “What are those smells?”

  She giggled, sitting beside him. “Disinfectant, candle wax, then I’m stumped.”

  He breathed deeply, snuggling against her. “Yeah, those two, but what’s the last one?”

  “Probably something to do with the Catholic Church is my guess, incense maybe, but I’ll need to talk to Renee about it.”

  He nodded, but didn’t question her. Then he sighed. “I wasn’t sure, when I came back, I mean, I saw her, in the garden. But you said she was there when I left, so she knows.”

  “She does and it’s okay. Honey, she, well, she understands, as best as this can be comprehended.”

  Lynne’s heart raced, as Eric cuddled into her. “And Sam?” he asked.

  “Sam, well….” Lynne smiled. “Sam knows, but doesn’t believe it. He’s pretty angry with me and….”

  Eric pulled away
, touching her face. “Angry with you, why?”

  “He thinks I’m nuts, and that I’ve made Renee crazy too. But it’s okay, because you’re home, and one of these days….”

  She had to kiss him, just to feel his lips against hers. The static shock didn’t matter, nor did his stale breath, but it wasn’t reminiscent of anything except how he always tasted after a long night’s sleep. The kiss became more intimate, and soon Lynne couldn’t help herself, putting Eric’s hand on her breast. His touch was gentle, stoking her desires, and his. As he pulled away from her mouth, he panted. “Oh Lynne….”

  She didn’t think about Sam or Renee, or how long Eric had been away; it was almost like he had never left, for he was helping to remove her clothing, just like he sometimes did when the mood struck. Now he was hard, and she was eager; they left her hair in the towel, but as the last piece of her apparel was thrown to the floor, both were beyond desperate. Then an urgent love was made. Lynne laughed at herself and her husband. “It’s never happened that fast before.”

  Eric remained atop her. “After last night, I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to love you again.”

  “You just needed to sleep.” And to release different emotions, she thought, running her hands along his back.

  He nodded, putting all his weight on her. Lynne felt that plop, but he wasn’t heavy. In a few weeks, he would fill out, and she would too. “I love you Eric, my God, I love you so much.”

  “I love you too. You’ve lost weight.”

  “I’m not the only one.”

  He sighed. “I’m sorry. There’s so much to tell you, but first you need to know I am so, so….”

  She kissed him again, which led to another round of intimacy. This time it lasted longer, and made her cry. He pulled out, wanting to comfort her, but she shook her head. Eric returned to where he had been, for he was still hard enough to do so. But he didn’t attempt to entice her, wiping the tears from her face.

  Lynne closed her eyes, trying to imprint this moment into her deepest memories. How precious was this action, this man, their love? He meant everything, but was it increased due to how precarious he was? “Eric, did you find him, did you….”

  He sighed, then moved away from her. This time Lynne didn’t ask for his return, but she snuggled against his chest, ignoring his protruding ribs. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, I understand,” she whispered.

  “I didn’t locate him, but I don’t think he was far.”

  She nodded, then kissed his skin. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but why’d you come back, I mean, I’m so glad you did.” She sat up, grasping his face in her hands. “I need you here, with me. I know I can’t always have that, but six weeks was too long. You can’t take that sort of….”

  “I know, that’s why I came home. I could feel it, my body was starting to fight being a hawk. Which was good, but it was also scary.” He put his hands on hers, then kissed her. Then Lynne returned to lying against him. “I was so close, so damned close! But finally I flew home. I couldn’t get you out of my head, and it was cold, and I was tired of being a hawk. Four days is fine. Six weeks is….”

  Dangerous, Lynne nearly said.

  “Too long,” Eric continued. “My body was starting to fight it, or maybe it was starting to feel too comfortable. Sometimes I woke and I’d forgotten I was a man. It would take me a few hours to remember what I was doing, where I was going. Then I’d realize it, but thank God I was still on my way home.” He stared at her. “Lynne, no matter what, you were all I considered, even if I was out of my human mind. Because as soon as I was back in it, there you were, on the horizon. I was flying home to you, whether I was aware of you or not.” He paused, then looked at his hands. “When I was changing, oh Jesus, it’d never felt that way before, like my bones might not form. As soon as I saw you, oh honey, I didn’t want you to see me, not like that, because I wasn’t sure if I was gonna be a man again. I wasn’t Lynne, I really didn’t know.”

  She nodded, then tenderly clasped his hands. “If you change again….”

  “If I do, hopefully it won’t be for that long. I don’t know if I could take it, and not just physically.”

  “I don’t know if I could either.” Her voice was soft, she didn’t want him to feel guilty.

  “Lynne, I can’t promise you anything, not anymore.” He moved away from her, then looked around their room. Then he faced her. “He’s out there, God, I knew it was him, don’t ask me how, but I did. And I know where he is, I mean….” Eric slammed his fist onto the bed. “I know where as a hawk, but don’t ask me to find it on a map. Shit!”

  “It’s okay honey, we’ll find him, I promise.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t understand. I know where he is, but only by sense of smell, the markers of trees, it’s all by instinct. And I, I’m….” He inhaled, then bit his lip.

  “You’re going back out there, aren’t you?”

  For a moment, Lynne thought she smelled hawk. But instead it was that unknown yet soothing aroma. It eased her racing heart, but didn’t halt Eric’s response. “Yeah honey, one of these days.” He leaned her way, kissing her. Then he pulled back. “For better or worse, he’s my father. I have to find him.”

  Chapter 14