The French doors were closed, but cold air seeped through the broken pane. The women sat in the kitchen, although Renee could still feel that breeze, or perhaps the chill was due to the story Lynne had told, trying to explain the creature, her inappropriate attire, and Eric’s continued absence. Then Renee shivered. Lynne was weepy, but in a stoic manner, like this had happened before. And still Eric did not walk into the kitchen, or call through the French doors. Renee had checked the upstairs, even going into the rooms where Eric’s paintings were kept. She had barely noticed the artwork, only finding that no one was hiding among the throngs of canvases.
“Lynne, here, drink this.” It was tea, as the Snyders kept no hard liquor. Wine was as strong as they preferred, and for a few moments, Renee had considered calling Sam, waking him up, then telling him to bring over their best whiskey. But she had driven the car, and that for no reason other than her own death would Sam trek across town in winter. Well, if Lynne was dead, Samuel might walk that far, but other than somber tears, Lynne was physically unharmed. Eric was missing, but Lynne was okay.
Yet, Lynne didn’t act like she didn’t know where Eric was; she spoke about him as if he would return, however she wasn’t sure when. But probably, she seemed to convey, through mutterings that to Renee’s ears made little practical sense. Eric had fled, Lynne repeated, he had to go, but why then, at that moment, which Renee had decided was of the intimate kind. Lynne now wore proper attire, but when Renee helped her walk to the house, avoiding the glass-strew gravel, all that covered Lynne was her robe. She was completely naked underneath.
Renee wondered if she had been posing for her husband, but if that was the case, where in the world was Eric? And what had that, that, that…. It was the oddest animal Renee had ever seen, the size of a human, and for a brief moment walking on two feet, one of them damaged. She blotted out that deformed left foot, then closed her eyes, trying to recreate those initial seconds, barely five or ten of them, as it had become a blur of movement on the ground. Then it had swooped into the air, altering as each second ticked past, transitioning from what appeared as slightly human into a….
A large bird, its arms outstretched, except that birds had wings, but this being had arms, which had then changed into wings and…. Renee shook her head. “Lynne, what in the hell was that thing?”
Renee gazed at her friend, as Lynne swallowed some tea, cracked her knuckles, then looked at Renee. But she didn’t meet Renee’s eyes. “That was my….”
The smile spread quickly, turning into a cackle, that rolled into a belly laugh as if Lynne was losing her mind. She quieted, then wiped her face, as tears trickled down her cheeks. Then she grasped Renee’s hands, her lower lip trembling, her hands shaking too. “It was Eric. That creature was my husband.”
Renee heard each word like no other sound existed. But noise crackled through the kitchen, from the hum of the refrigerator to the ticking clock to the swirling wind, a breeze that emanated from the French doors. Renee stared at Lynne, who appeared sober, yet, to say something so strange, Lynne must have been drinking. “What’d you say?” Renee asked. “Did you say that was Eric?”
Lynne nodded, closing her eyes. Then she opened them, and Renee was struck by how easily she could see through this woman, her colleague, her friend. Perhaps her best friend, or maybe only a bond affirmed because of their careers and infertility. But if nothing else, Renee knew that Lynne wasn’t lying; she truly believed whatever that thing was, it was also Eric Snyder.
Renee stroked Lynne’s cheek, then clasped her hand. “Honey, where’s Eric, just tell me. Did he leave, did you have a fight, what?”
“Yes, he left, but we weren’t fighting. We were….” She paused, then started crying again. “We were making love. Oh my God Renee, it’s never happened like that, I mean, he’s never changed like that, and then I didn’t know what to do, he’s never even transformed inside the house. He was like a caged animal, but he knew who he was, and he was trying to get out of our bedroom, but the window was too small, and even if he’d jumped….”
Renee released Lynne’s hand, stood from the chair, then backed away, bumping into the counter. “Lynne, are you trying to tell me that was Eric?”
Lynne nodded. “We’ve never told anyone, oh Renee, you’re the first to see it happen.”
Renee gazed around the room, trying to collect her bearings. Due to her faith, she believed in miracles. Christ had come back from the dead, but before that he had been a man, and that was about as far as Renee would ever take her assumptions on humans altering form, or beating death. But this wasn’t like that; the strangest creature she’d ever seen had bolted from the Snyder house, morphing into some kind of bird. And Lynne was claiming that it was actually Eric, which made Renee even more curious. What in God’s name had Eric done to his wife?
Cautiously Renee approached Lynne, setting her hand to Lynne’s brow. Lynne wasn’t feverish, but she sighed as Renee touched her. “I know you probably think I’m crazy, but Renee, I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”
Lynne’s tone was earnest, frightened, and weary. Those sentiments made Renee tremble; Lynne truly believed what she was saying. Then Renee leaned over, kissing Lynne’s messy hair. As she did so, she inhaled. The scent of sex was prevalent, which didn’t make Renee blush. She was a nurse, and a wife, and knew that the Snyders were devoted to each other. Or that Lynne was certainly loyal to Eric, in proffering such a delusional tale.
As Renee exhaled, then inhaled again, another scent filled her nostrils, but it wasn’t connected to intimacy. It was tinged with something slightly unpleasant, related to…. Renee flinched, then jumped back, gripping herself while gaping at Lynne, who wiped her eyes and cheeks with a napkin. The smell was poultry, or something akin to chickens. It was more pungent though, nearly rank. It reminded Renee of when her mother had taken the family to a small farm when Renee was little, wild turkeys chasing each other in the yard. Renee’s older brother Tommy had mentioned it was Thanksgiving dinner on the run, which had puzzled Renee until her eldest brother Ritchie said that the gobbling feathered beasts were what their mother roasted every November. After that it had taken Renee years to eat turkey at Thanksgiving, and she still wasn’t fond of it.
Renee hadn’t inspected the Snyders’ bed, other than to note it was empty, and that no blood stained the sheet. Lynne hadn’t been sexually harmed, or at least not so badly that she had bled, but now Renee shivered for what else she might find on those linens, if she was bold enough to take a second look. But that was madness; men, or women for that matter, didn’t turn into…. She shook her head, then took another breath. Intercourse lingered, then she wanted to gag. She still detected bird, but not like those turkeys had smelled. This was less domestic, more from nature. This was….
Lynne nodded, meeting her gaze, and Renee couldn’t look away quickly enough. “He turned into hawk, he’s been doing it since he was a child. Not that he means to do it, he can’t help it. I know it sounds, oh God Renee, it does sound crazy, but it’s the truth. We don’t know why or how, but every few months Eric becomes a….”
“Don’t, just stop.” Renee took another breath, but now it hurt, for every time she inhaled, there it was, the ripe and unmistakable aroma of fowl. Yet, that wasn’t possible, it was impossible, it was….
“We never wanted anyone to know, but something’s happening, something’s wrong. Not that he could control it before, but he used to sense it before it happened. The last time he changed, we’d just made love, but it was, he was, well, done. He used to know days ahead of time, he could feel it in his bones, in his gut too. But now, oh goodness, now….”
The whole kitchen stank of bird, and Renee had to leave. She gazed at the door; her car was just outside the property wall, and what time was it? Samuel would be waking soon, finding her note, wondering what errands she needed to attend to on a Sunday afternoon. She glanced at the clock, still ticking loudly; it was after two. All she needed to do was go home, and not tell Sam. S
he wouldn’t breathe a word of this to anyone, but would look for another job, for she would not be able to work with this woman anymore. This woman was trying to drive Renee crazy and….
Lynne wept softly now, her face in her hands. Renee stared at her, then she inhaled, but only noted sorrow and loneliness. It was the same at the hospital, when a bereaved family member was trying to accept the worst news, or what to Renee was even more trying, a new mother attempting to understand why her baby had died. Few nurses could offer the proper solace to such a lost soul, and to the fathers as well, but the mothers were more delicate, for they had carried that child for nine long months, with nothing to show except the most crushed heart. Renee was often called in to comfort such women, for she seemed able to provide a solid shoulder, and if they were Catholic, her words were even more fitting. Sometimes she even reached the Protestant mothers; to Renee, their belief in Christ was bond enough, and even those few without faith could weep in her arms as utter confusion slipped from their mangled cries.
She didn’t know if her childless state rendered her more empathetic, or was it Sam’s return from the war? Rare were the times they were intimate, but when it did happen, she gave thanks for those moments, not attempting to comprehend why God had removed that specter of his blessing from their lives. It was the same with those mothers, grieving the cruelest of losses. As Lynne continued to cry, Renee wondered if there was any possible way that what Lynne asserted could be true. Her sobs were from the recesses of her soul, separated from the one she loved without any recourse or explanation.
Slowly Renee approached Lynne, who bawled like those women, unburdening her heart to someone who might understand. Then Lynne began to mutter her husband’s name, and Renee wasn’t sure if she could take any more. Torturous were these cries, for the agony Eric had suffered, for the silence they had endured. And for the pain inflicted upon Renee. Lynne looked at her, her face contorted, her eyes teary and red. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “We never wanted anyone to know.”
The acceptance began there, as Lynne’s labored words ended. Renee was struck by a force so alien, then suddenly it was all she knew. It wasn’t how she had accepted Christ as her savior, for that had been gently placed into her heart one loving seed at a time from the day of her infant baptism. This was perhaps how those who had no knowledge of God found themselves upon an immediate conversion. Renee knew men and women who had been struck as if by lightning. Then their hearts were altered, their sins pardoned, their lives made anew, even if old habits clung. Their souls now belonged to Christ, and Renee blinked away tears. Then they poured down her cheeks as the horrible but factual realization was permanently stitched into her heart. That creature, menacing and violent, then airborne, had at one time been Lynne’s beloved husband.
The women moved into the living room. Lynne stared at the French doors while Renee built a fire. Then the phone rang. It was Sam, and Lynne’s voice trembled. Then she handed the receiver to Renee, who cleared her throat. “Hi honey. Did you sleep well?”
Sam inquired about her errands, then chuckled that yes, he had only now stirred. Renee kept her voice light, but it felt awkward, and lying to her husband wasn’t easy either. She told him she’d be home in another half hour, but if it was going to be longer, she would call him. She wanted to tell him that she loved him, but that might have hurt Lynne, and Sam would have also thought it odd, for they weren’t mushy in front of others. Yet Renee ached for his warm arms around her, his words in her ears, his presence. According to Lynne, Eric might not be back for weeks.
He was usually gone for around four days. The previous time had been late last summer, when Lynne had to cancel the dinner invite. Renee remembered it perfectly, then she sighed. When they had next shared a meal, Eric had been furtive, the mood disturbed. They had gotten together again shortly after that, and feelings were no longer strained. Renee shivered, trying to reconcile that usually jovial man with what she had seen only hours ago. Except for that mangled foot, it hadn’t looked at all like Lynne’s husband; it had appeared like a huge….
Not a hawk, as Lynne said, but certainly a bird. Renee tried to imagine that, how Eric had…. She stopped, unable to harness a name to that man and that animal. Maybe this was how non-believers considered those with faith, as if they had given into madness. Then Renee giggled.
Lynne looked her way, as Renee shook her head. “You must think Sam and I are nuts to believe in God. At least Eric’s real.”
Then Renee flushed a deep crimson. But Lynne smiled. “I don’t think your faith’s as absurd as my husband changing into a hawk.”
Renee nodded, then tried to hide her chuckle. It spilled, and within seconds both women were laughing, sharing a tight embrace. Then Lynne pulled away, wiping her eyes. “Renee, thank you for believing me.”
Then Lynne sighed. “Or maybe I shouldn’t wish this on you. But at least I don’t have to carry it alone anymore.” She stared at the floor, then to the broken pane in the right French door. “I’ll put some cardboard over it, then call a repairman. If it was summer, I’d just sweep up the glass and wait for Eric to come home. Too cold to wait for him now.”
Renee came to her side, gripping her hand. “Sam could fix it. He’s pretty handy outside the kitchen as well as in it.”
Lynne shook her head. “What would I tell him? I’ll just live with it today and tonight, and call someone in the morning.”
“Why don’t you come home with me tonight? I’ll tell Sam that Eric got called away, something to do with the exhibit.” Then Renee bit her tongue. What about that show?
“No, I mean, thanks, but he might come back, I wouldn’t wanna miss him.” Then Lynne sighed. “Who am I kidding? He thought he’d be gone for weeks this time. He won’t be home for ages.”
“Why so long?” Now that she accepted this still bizarre notion, Renee was curious. “What does he do when he’s….”
“He just flies around, there’s never been a purpose, or one that we understood. But now….” Lynne stepped toward the door, staring at the open pane. “He thinks it has to do with his father.”
“Is he still alive? I thought all of your parents were dead.”
“He’s the only one left. He’s….” Lynne set her fingers along the glistening shards. Then she turned around, facing Renee. “He’s in prison, for murder.”
“Oh good lord! Who, I mean….” Then Renee shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business. Lynne, I’m sorry, I’m….”
Lynne swayed and Renee ran to her, keeping her upright. Then Renee led the sobbing woman to the sofa, where all of Eric’s miserable childhood was explained.
Renee stayed until Lynne was calm. During that time, Renee called Sam, telling him she would be another half hour. Then she called him again, right before she left, that she was indeed heading home. That was after forty more minutes had elapsed, but that was spent trying to fix the broken French door, then cleaning up the glass. Lynne assured Renee that she would be fine, that this wasn’t the first time, although Renee realized that it was a first time, of sorts. It was the first time Eric had been so aggrieved, the first time someone had seen him transform, and the first time Lynne had been able to speak of such a catastrophe. Renee wasn’t sure how else to describe that afternoon’s event, a supernatural calamity, yet not in any Godly manner. And it was life-altering, for Renee’s world had inadvertently changed, perhaps Lynne and Eric’s too. For better or worse, their secret was out.
Renee drove home, then sat in the car, letting the engine run. The heater was blasting, for she was still cold, but it wasn’t due to the hole in Lynne’s back door. It was the knowledge of an unnatural incident, and one that she couldn’t share with her husband. No way would Samuel understand something like this.
He had seen plenty of mayhem in Korea, but that was man against man. This was…. Renee wasn’t sure how to classify what this was, then relate it to human beings. Yet, she had laughed with Eric, hugged him, had wanted to ask him a question. T
hose mice, of what had they been afraid? Now she knew, although she did wonder were those mice terrified of a hawk, or a man turning into one?
Probably the former, she permitted. Lynne said that Eric never changed out in the wild. Only there, near her, and that afternoon had been the closest the couple had ever been to each other as the process began. Renee hadn’t inquired as to that, then she shut her eyes, wondering who had been more damaged. Lynne’s demeanor, behind Eric’s studio, had been similar to some of the rape victims Renee had helped treat. But what about the soul of a man unable to halt a transformation that began while sharing the most tender aspect of love?
Loud tapping took Renee from her thoughts. Sam smiled, gazing at her through the car window. “Honey, you okay?”
She smiled, but felt sick inside. Never before had she kept anything from her husband. Yet this was beyond him, it had nearly been more than she could accept. Quickly she asked God to strengthen her, and to keep Samuel free from this…. She still wasn’t sure how to qualify it, other than as a surreal disaster, for all involved. “Hi honey,” she said, rolling down the window.
“Hi Renee. So, you gonna stay out here all night?” He smiled, rubbing his upper arms. “Kinda cold, you know.”
She nodded, looking at him with new eyes. He had suffered greatly during combat, and not just the debilitating physical injuries. On some nights Sam woke screaming; did Eric Snyder experience a similar level of turmoil when he changed, or…. She rolled up the window, turned off the engine, then got out of the car. Then she gripped her husband, trying not to cry.
“C’mon, it’s freezing out here.” Sam whispered that, then kissed her cheek. “Renee, you okay?”
She nodded, again praying for strength. If she could maintain her composure for a few more seconds, Sam wouldn’t question her again. As she pulled away, she gently pinched his cheek. “Fine honey, I’m just fine.”
He nodded, then rolled his eyes. “You spend an afternoon with Lynne and Eric and I gotta wonder. What, you trying to convert them?”
His tone was light, a joke between them. If they could make Catholics out of the Snyders, maybe world peace might be possible, or that Sam’s beloved and beleaguered Boston Red Sox would win the World Series. Renee heard that wish every spring as baseball season started, then again in autumn as the playoffs began, Boston again suffering from the Curse of the Bambino. For a second Renee shivered; why had God done that to a little boy? Eric had been eight years old the first time it happened, but Renee blocked that, prayed, then grinned. “I was learning how to make boysenberry pie,” she lied right through her teeth.
He gaped at her, then peered into the car. “And you didn’t bring any home?”
“It, uh, well….”
He tapped his foot. “Well?”
“Let’s just say it came out badly.”
“How badly?”
“Very badly.”
“Renee, how do you mess up a pie?” Then he laughed, bringing her back into his grasp. He kissed her brow, then led her to the house. “Good grief, only my wife couldn’t be able to bake a pie. So, did Eric get the spoils?”
“He, uh, wasn’t feeling well. Lynne said she’d take care of it.”
Sam nodded, reaching their front door. He opened it, then ushered them inside. He kissed his wife, then sniffed. “Well, pardon me, but you don’t smell like boysenberries. You smell like wood smoke and….”
She took off her coat, then stared at him. “And what Sam?”
“Chicken. Or something like chicken, turkey maybe. Was Eric roasting a turkey while you women ruined a pie?”
Samuel chuckled as Renee nodded. She bit her lip, then wiped her eyes, as he headed into their kitchen, speaking of dinner, lamenting that there was no dessert to accompany it.
Chapter 9