The Hawk: Part One

  The couple spent much of that weekend making love, but only by Monday morning did they find themselves entwined within their bed. Afterwards, Lynne breathed with ease, stroking Eric’s skin, staring at his face. He knew what she was thinking, but neither said a word.

  While he took a bath, she started coffee. When he came downstairs, she was assembling pie ingredients, not boysenberry, but apple. Eric smiled, then stood behind her, putting his arms around her. She leaned into him, and he nibbled on her ear. “Do you want to?” he chuckled.

  “I need to make this pie,” she smiled. “And bathe and….”

  He nodded, but didn’t release her. Then she turned around, finding his mouth, making clear her intentions. She was naked under her robe, and while Eric ached from all their previous encounters, soon he was inside her, there in the kitchen. He reveled in her joy, and the freedom to delight themselves wherever and whenever they wanted. When they were through, he touched her damp face, kissing her tears. “Honey, what?”

  She shook her head, then pressed it against his shoulder. He stroked her hair, wishing this day wasn’t fraught with a cloud that only they could see. The morning was bright, and forecast to be hot. But a storm was approaching, one that Eric felt was all his fault.

  They left the kitchen, heading back upstairs. In bed, he cradled her, as she wept hard. Once she was calm, he gave her tissues, then asked if he could start her a bath. She nodded, and Eric went to fill the tub. Minutes later she was soaking in bubbles, which had made her laugh. He sat on the closed toilet seat, then moved to the floor, where she often waited, as he soaked away another existence. But this time, she was trying to acclimate herself, even before he disappeared.

  He didn’t speak as she played with the bubbles, softly blowing some into the room. Then she smoothed them along her skin, building a fine lather. He was aroused by her antics, but was so sore, and he smiled. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

  “You don’t have another time in you,” she teased.

  “No, I don’t. But later, oh Lynne.” He went to his knees, leaning against the edge of the tub. He kissed her, then dabbed her cheeks with bubbles. She giggled, putting some on his nose. Then she leaned his way, and their kiss was long, and soap-tinged. He pulled away first, then stood. “Shall I bring your coffee up here?”

  She nodded. “I still need to wash my hair though.”

  “Okay. I won’t pour it right away.”

  He left the room, then headed to the kitchen. As he took a mug from the cupboard, his right arm ached. He set down the cup, then stretched that arm over his head. Then he winced, not from the pain, but the memory. He lifted his left arm in the same manner, then felt the ache in that limb too. Eric put his hands together, cracking his knuckles. Then he clasped his hands, a hot, searing burn running from his fingers to his shoulders. He closed his eyes, then sighed.

  When he entered their bedroom, her coffee in hand, she was dressing. Her hair was in a towel, and she smiled at him. “Just in time. Then I really need to start that pie.”

  He set her mug on his dresser, then reached for the terrycloth around her hair, unwinding it, letting her long tresses fall over her shoulders, and down her back. “I called the Aherns, well, I talked to Renee.”

  “Why?” Lynne said slowly.

  “I asked if they minded if we ate over here.” Eric stared at his wife. “I felt it in my arms, the right one first, then the left. I told her I didn’t wanna be too far from home.”

  Lynne nodded, then gazed at his right forearm. Then she traced her fingers over the entire limb. “When?”

  “Soon, maybe even today. I told her that, and that if they didn’t wanna come over, we’d understand.”

  “And she said?”

  “She said she’d talk to Sam and get back to us.” Eric took a long breath, then caressed his wife’s face.

  Lynne nuzzled against his palm, then pulled him close. “How much time do we have left?”

  “I don’t know but, oh Lynne….”

  She had pressed herself all along him, and even though he was sore, Eric didn’t shy away from her desires. She ached too, yet time was short, and they tumbled into bed. By the time they were done, her coffee was cool.

  They didn’t hear from Renee until noon, that Sam wasn’t feeling well, but Renee would come over whenever Eric and Lynne were ready for company. They agreed upon three, and Eric hung up, a resigned look on his face. “I was really hoping it’d be both of them,” he said, stepping to where Lynne crimped the last of the pie crust. “Not that I wanted him to, well, I guess I did.” Eric pinched off a bit of excess dough, popping it in his mouth. “But at least you won’t be alone.”

  Lynne didn’t mind that Eric ate pie dough, nor was she surprised that Samuel wouldn’t accompany Renee. She was taken aback at Eric’s desire for Sam to be here. “Do you want him to see it happen?”

  Eric gazed at her, then stepped back. “I don’t want him thinking you and Renee are crazy.”

  “Better for him to see you as a bird than that, huh?” She put the pie in the oven, set the timer, then leaned against the counter. “It doesn’t matter what he believes. All that matters is that you, that you….” She swallowed hard, then joined him, grasping his hands. “You find your dad, then come home. That is all that matters anymore.”

  “You matter, they matter too.” He shook his head. “What does my father have to do with my life, I mean, he never cared about me. Why am I even thinking about trying to find him?”

  She stroked his chest. “Because for some reason, you know he needs to see you. All that hawk instinct, I suppose. Maybe he’s sick, maybe he’s….” She sighed. “Maybe this isn’t so much about you going to him at all. But he certainly can’t come here. You’re the one who has to travel.”

  “Okay, but why can’t I do it like a normal human being?”

  “Because if he saw you, as a man, there might not be any possible way for him to….” She paused, having given this much thought all weekend. “To make amends. He can never escape what he did you, and to your mother, but mostly to you.” She stroked his left hip, running her hand as far down that leg as she could reach. “We can’t know what’s in his head after all these years. Maybe even remorse, it’s possible.”

  “Highly unlikely.” Eric clasped her hand within his. “But I guess I’ll find out soon enough. And I’ll be home as soon as I can, you know that honey.”

  Lynne nodded. “I know Eric. I know.”

  At two thirty, Renee called, but it was hard to hear her, for she whispered. Lynne had answered, and all she could make out was that Sam would drive Renee over there. Eric shrugged, then walked into the garden, but Lynne didn’t follow him.

  Forty minutes later, Renee came through the front gate, calling for her hosts. Eric saw her first, and to his immense shock, Sam was several steps behind her. Renee carried a basket, covered by a checkered tablecloth, and she handed it to Eric as he met her just past the kitchen door. “Happy Fourth of July,” she said softly, kissing Eric’s cheek. “How do you feel?”

  “Better for seeing you, the both of you,” he said in Sam’s hearing. Eric gripped the basket, laden with good-smelling dishes. Then he looked at Sam. “How’re you?”

  Sam rolled his eyes, then shrugged. “Happy Fourth Eric.”

  “Are you staying Sam?” Eric asked, keeping his voice even.

  “Well….”

  “Yes, he’s staying. I threatened to leave him if he didn’t come with me.” Renee looked around. “Where’s Lynne?”

  “In the house. An apple pie’s waiting.”

  “Custard’s in the basket.” Renee gazed back at Sam, who had stepped away. “You coming?”

  Again he shrugged, shoving hands into his pockets. “Like I have a choice.”

  Eric led the way, Renee walking between the men, as Sam lagged behind.

  Twenty minutes later the foursome was seated around the patio table, but the conversation was stilted. Lynne tried to make eye conta
ct with Sam, but he wouldn’t meet her gaze for more than a second. Several times Eric stood, stretching his limbs, which now twitched with the familiar notion of imminent change. In a way, he was thankful for the warning, which he hadn’t experienced in full since late last spring. But why today, he wondered, as Renee tried unsuccessfully to draw out her husband. The only purpose Eric considered was that Sam would see him change, not that Sam witnessing such an event would halt it. Maybe it would do more harm than good, but whatever happened was out of Eric’s control. Then his fingers tingled, and he closed his eyes. The sensation was strong; once that niggle traveled up his arms, he would have few moments left as a….

  “Eric?”

  Lynne’s voice was soft, but it stopped the brief chatter Renee had managed to pull from Sam. Eric nodded, then smiled, reaching for Lynne’s hand. As he gripped her, the tingle increased to a burn, spreading through his bones, into the ligaments and muscles, then heading north to his forearm. It traveled into his elbow and upper arm, approaching his shoulder. Once it hit his shoulder….

  The patio was silent as Eric managed swift glances to his wife and Renee. Lynne nodded, but Renee blinked away tears. Then Eric looked at Sam, who tried to gaze away, but couldn’t. The men stared at each other as Eric tried to speak, but that ability was now beyond him.

  He stepped from his seat, the pain excruciating in every part of his body. He had never told Lynne that aspect, it would have been cruel. He quickly walked toward the thicket, seeing the bubbling fountain, then the bird bath, then his…. Colors sparkled against glass panes as Eric’s vision improved, the physical pain lessening, but the emotional agony built as every human aspect diminished. Feathers sprouted, his limbs began to shrink, his organs changing in all the time it took to blink. Then he squawked, as breaths were forced in and out of his altered lungs. He wanted to tell Lynne that he loved her, wanted to apologize to Renee and Sam for the poor timing. Eric’s mind was still human, but his body was no longer that of a man.

  Right before he spread his wings, he heard footsteps. He looked back, but not to his wife. Sam shook, his arms reaching out, like he wanted Eric to return. Then Sam’s limbs fell to his sides. “Come back,” he cried. “Eric, please, don’t do this!”

  But what had occurred wouldn’t be easily undone. Eric nodded, then launched himself into the air. He circled the property, as he always did, taking one last glance at his home, finding Lynne comforting Renee. Then Lynne gazed up, staring straight into the sun. Eric swooped right over her head. Then he headed east, many miles to cover.

  Sam remained in the garden for another half hour, watching the skies. Lynne and Renee had moved into the house, and Sam found them in the kitchen, eating pie and custard. Lynne had been crying, Renee too, but Lynne’s tears were fresh. Sam sat beside her, clasping his hands together, putting them on the table. “Well,” he started, “I guess it wasn’t bullshit.”

  Lynne nodded, then smiled. “He hasn’t been able to sense it that keenly in….” She wiped her face with a napkin. “Not since last summer. Maybe it was late spring. That’s how it happens, or how it usually happens.” She sighed, then carefully placed her hand on Sam’s. “I’m sorry though.”

  “Sorry for what?” Sam asked, grasping her hand.

  “That it happened today. It would’ve been nice to have celebrated the holiday. But at least he’s on his way. God only knows when he’ll be back.”

  “He told you before winter set in,” Renee croaked. She used her napkin to blow her nose, then she dabbed at her eyes.

  “Well, we’ll see.” Lynne’s tone was stoic. “I hope he’s back before then, but….”

  Sam went to his feet, walked to the sink, gripping the counter. Then he stared at the kitchen door. “I stood in this room, right behind Renee, dripping on your floor Lynne. I wanted you to tell me it was an elaborate lie, that you’d concocted the whole thing.” Sam turned, looking at Eric’s wife. “I wanted you to tell me anything, I didn’t care what, just something else. But there wasn’t anything else for you to tell me, was there? Nothing but the truth, but, but….” He trembled, then was supported by Renee, who had joined him. “But the truth is that he actually turns into a goddamn….”

  “Sam,” Renee chided.

  “No honey, he is damned, I mean….” Sam shook his head. “Not to hell, or purgatory, but right here on Earth. Eric and Lynne both, because she doesn’t know when he’s coming back, or if he’ll be all right, or what in the hell’s gonna happen next. It’s just like when I left you, you had no idea if I’d come home alive, or how I’d be if I did.” He faced his wife, stroking her still damp face. “I left you Renee because I thought my country was more important, that fighting a war was more meaningful than loving you. Maybe we wouldn’t have had kids, but now we can’t, and I, I’m….” His voice broke, but he continued. “I’m sorry honey, oh Renee, I am so, so sorry!”

  Sam kissed her, then wrapped her close, but he glanced back at Lynne. “And I’m sorry for not believing you. I should’ve believed you, I should’ve….”

  Lynne stood, then stepped their way. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and they tumbled down Sam’s face too. “How in the world were you supposed to believe that my husband turns into a hawk?”

  Her tone wasn’t facetious, but it wasn’t somber, for it was an implausible tale, until the proof had emerged in Sam’s presence. Lynne had watched him run after her husband, calling Eric’s name over and over as she often did. But Eric hadn’t been able to stop, not for Samuel Ahern, not for Lynne. Eric couldn’t halt the process for any of them, but as she had told him earlier that day, perhaps it wasn’t for them at all.

  Sam nodded, but Lynne wasn’t sure he grasped the full meaning. Renee caught Lynne’s gaze, and her blinking stoplight eyes told Lynne that she understood. But then, Lynne had explained to Renee all about Eric’s childhood. Lynne didn’t think Sam knew the whole story.

  She wasn’t in the frame of mind to reveal it now. She put her arm around Sam, and he put one around her. The threesome remained huddled together, as previously unfathomable facts began to settle in Sam’s head.

  After an early dinner, Lynne showed them the finished family paintings, then walked them to the studio, where only a few canvases of Lynne remained. But it felt good to be where Eric had spent so much of his time and energy, as if his spirit wafted above them. Lynne said little, but the Aherns mumbled to themselves. Then Renee approached her friend. “I can’t see into you the way I can my family, Sam’s too. Eric’s done something different with these, like there’s a shield around you.”

  Lynne nodded. “Believe me, I’m grateful for it. Hard enough posing for him, knowing how he can get under the subject’s skin.” Not that Eric used that talent for harm, but he did possess an uncanny knowledge of those he painted, be they beast or man. And it seemed human beings were easier to read, or maybe it was the Aherns and Nolans, Lynne smiled.

  She could smile, because now she wasn’t alone. She would sleep by herself in their bed that night, but for the rest of her life, others would bear this secret. The rest of all of their lives were bound by the odd but solid notion that one man could alter form, but it had nothing to do with religion, or the lack of it. Eric’s mother had been a churchgoer when Eric was a baby, but her faith had been beaten into submission by the man she had married. Then it was destroyed when that man…. Lynne shivered, then inhaled, wishing she could trap some part of Eric within her. But maybe in this studio he dwelled in all of them.

  Sam cleared his throat, then joined her, but left a foot between them. “I can’t tell a thing from these pictures, other than how much he….” He stopped, then gripped her hand. “He adores you, but wonders how much more you can take.”

  She nodded. “I can take whatever he can manage. I love him, I knew about this from almost the beginning.”

  “I do see one thing in these paintings.” Renee’s tone was soft. Then she looked at Lynne and Sam.

  “What?” Sam asked.

  Renee’
s mouth twitched, which made Lynne shiver. “Renee?” Lynne said.

  Renee gazed back at a painting of Lynne sitting on the patio, her knitting resting in a heap on the table. Lynne was staring at the yarn, but her body was turned the other way. Renee kept her back to her husband and Lynne as she spoke. “You wanna heal him.” Then Renee chuckled. “It’s not why you went into nursing, I know that, but you can’t forcibly stop him from changing either. And you can’t….” She hesitated, then faced Lynne. “We can’t have their babies, and you can’t paint, but you can be here, you’ll never leave him. And he knows that, believe me, I see in every single one of these pictures all you wanna do and give to him and all he wants to do and give to you, I don’t care if you’re making pies or weeding or knitting. But he can’t put that in your eyes or your smile without betraying the secret, and you can’t fix him, and….” She smiled, then chuckled, then began laughing hysterically. “And it’s just crazy, and I mean that. Why did this happen to us? We’re good people, we haven’t done anything wrong or bad or….” Renee looked all around the studio. “He should be here, right now, showing off the most incredible pictures of the woman he loves. He loves you so much Lynne, oh dear God, it’s everywhere, but cloaked. Somehow, some way, he’s put a veil over these, so all anyone else’ll see is you doing these mundane tasks, like you don’t have anything better to do. Maybe they might wonder why you’re not posing with his child, or maybe they won’t even think about it, just assuming that as the artist’s wife you’re handy around the house and very involved with your hobbies. Somehow he’s pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes, but maybe that’s for the best. Better for them to think you don’t have any more to do than bake and weed and knit than the truth.”

  Quiet rang out as Renee caught her breath, but she didn’t add any more. Lynne blinked away tears, then stepped to Renee’s side. They clutched the other’s hands, staring at blue yarn on the patio table, and how in the painting, Lynne’s gaze was held from Eric’s view. Yet he had worked around her unwillingness to meet his eyes, bringing an even deeper meaning to the canvas.

  Sam joined them, putting his hands on their shoulders. Then he began reciting The Lord’s Prayer. Renee’s voice blended with her husband’s, but even though Lynne knew some of the words, she remained silent, examining herself as Eric had captured her, and all he had hidden. As the Aherns reached the end of the prayer, Lynne added an emphatic Amen. Then she took a deep breath, grasping Sam’s hand on her shoulder. “Amen,” she repeated, as Renee brushed away the tears pooling along Lynne’s jaw.

  Chapter 19