The Hawk: Part Seven

  Having spoken to Laurie about Eric’s whereabouts, Seth pondered many illusory notions, one of which was indeed a fact. After Seth told Laurie the hawk’s true identity, that bird had spent nearly all of Seth’s waking moments in the courtyard. Staring at the hawk, Seth found he could decipher Eric’s caws and screeches, yet he didn’t spend time mulling over why that was. More to capture Seth’s attention was what Eric revealed in those conversations, which for the most part were still one-sided. Eric had plenty to say, leaving Seth with the distinctive feeling that this hawk wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  Since first admiring the blue barn, all the queries Seth had stored away were now on the tip of his tongue. Funny that running off to Florida had brought those questions to the forefront; Seth had come here to escape that very possibility. Yet Norah had been waiting for Seth, another piece in the puzzle that since Laurie’s last visit had been coming together at a dizzying pace. Seth’s previous stays in mental institutions had felt like his tenure in Korea, time achingly dragged out like each minute constituted an entire day. The only part of army life that had sped past was when he’d gripped his rifle, and now he wondered if that had gone so quickly due to the lives he had slain. Perhaps if Eric could turn into a hawk, time itself could be altered, then Seth smiled as Eric spoke again in that odd but discernable manner, reminding Seth that nothing could be taken for granted, not his talent, nor his existence. There was a purpose for Seth’s life, regardless of what Seth had done in Asia.

  Eric equated that reason to his own inexplicable identity as a bird of prey. The few times Seth spoke was to counter Eric’s argument, for what Eric killed as a hawk was merely to keep himself alive. Yet Seth was silenced as Eric finally explained the impetus behind the blue barn; it was the result of a fight with another bird, and while Eric had been defending himself, the fury stirred during that melee had overtaken him to the point that if the falcon had persisted one moment longer, Eric would have killed it. Eric had never told his wife that fact, or Sam Ahern. Maybe only in this form could he recall such a terrifying idea, perhaps as a man it was buried deeply within his psyche. Yet as a hawk, that notion was easily recalled, and so dissimilar to how now Eric hunted to satisfy his hunger. Lizards were his preferred quarry, the occasional mouse if he desired. But he couldn’t excise those instincts, and he stared right at Seth as that was stated. In this form, he wasn’t a human being, but an animal. And perhaps within the confines of war, men changed into similar beasts in order to stay alive.

  As that message emerged, Seth nodded, then turned away from the window. He hadn’t been the only sniper in his platoon and at times they had saved each other’s lives. He might be one of the few who’d been driven by an even greater evil, he would admit, and he’d never met another Jew while overseas, which made him smile. Then he turned to face Eric, who was poking at his right wing. Seth had also never met any artists in Korea; the men spoke about their occupations, also about their families, hobbies, and plenty of debates occurred concerning sports. Seth hadn’t contributed much to those discussions, for he wasn’t in a relationship, had no diversions, and wasn’t keen on athletics. He’d often thought of Laurie when that topic came up, then he had tuned out, considering other than in his role as a soldier how tightly woven was his cousin in nearly all facets of his life. Over the years, however, Laurie had been squeezed out of Seth’s existence, except for his support when Seth was again residing in a mental institution. But even then Laurie was shielded as depression built an impenetrable wall between them. Now Laurie knew the cause of Seth’s illness, but that wasn’t what was currently keeping Laurie from Seth’s side. Seth smiled, then cleared his throat. “Laurie won’t visit because of you.”

  Eric nodded, but seemed impassive, continuing to peck at his right wing. Seth stepped in front of the window, placing his hands on the glass. “It’s funny because I miss him and I knew if I told him, this might happen. But I couldn’t keep lying to him and, and….” Seth’s voice trembled. “They’re so concerned about you, Laurie and Stanford. And I’m sure your wife is too.” Seth bit the inside of his cheek. “But now maybe Laurie will tell her. I hope he does, just so she won’t worry about you. I never wanted anyone to get hurt you know, I mean….” Seth sighed as anger rose from the pit of his stomach. “That’s not the truth.” His voice took on a gravely tone. “I wanted to kill so many….” He threw his hands in the air, then pounded on the windowpane. “You know how many I wanted to kill, all of them. Each and every single one that, that….” Seth tightly shut his eyes, imagining bodies in front of him, a bullseye placed in the center of their torsos. During target practice, those markers had seemed as huge as the exploding sun Eric had painted, hanging in Minnesota. Yet, Seth hadn’t seen targets within those pieces of art, probably because shock therapy had erased that ugliness. He’d been ignorant of his actions until coming to Florida, meeting Norah, viewing her tattoo. He laughed at himself; how stupid had he been, thinking that if he avoided Eric Snyder he would be safe. And now Laurie had been dragged into the madness, which Seth had never wished to happen. “Why the hell did I tell him?” Seth muttered, gazing at the door. If Laurie stepped into the room, perhaps Seth could apologize, then pretend that the hawk wasn’t more than some random bird who for whatever reason had chosen to….

  Seth expected Eric to raise some dissent, but the room was silent. Turning around, Seth assumed Eric had flown away, but the hawk remained, now poking at its left wing. Seth attempted to keep that genderless pronoun attached to the bird, but as it gazed toward the window, making eye contact, Seth shivered. The façade had to cease, even if the consequences were dire to Laurie. This couldn’t continue, Seth realized, no matter how painful it was for all of them.

  “Will I meet you properly someday?” Seth whispered. He stepped toward the window, again placing his hands upon the glass. “I want to shake your hand, I wanna….” Seth blinked away tears. “How can I repay you, how can I, oh Jesus!” Seth shook his head, letting his arms fall to his sides. “There’s nothing I can do worth the sacrifice you’ve made for God’s sake. Just go home, it doesn’t matter now. Laurie can think what he likes, I’ll just stay here, and….”

  The screech made Seth’s flesh crawl, for it sounded nothing like that of a bird, more like the scream of a wounded man. How often had Seth heard those shrieks, but had shut them out as if they were no more than gunfire or bombs exploding. They were a part of war as vital as machinery, for that’s what weapons were for; to maim, then kill. Killing was better, the ultimate victory for either side. No messy injuries to attend, nothing wasted but another life, although what did those lives matter, for when one was over, another stood up, ready for the firing line. Which had little to do with art, be it paintings or sculptures. And it certainly had nothing to do with Eric’s other mainstay, that of a father. He was a husband to be sure, but as a father he’d had the honor of helping to create a human life. Fortunately for Eric, that child was a daughter, safe from being called to duty. Had Eric wished for a son, Seth wondered. Probably not. But now another baby was coming, its gender unknown. Seth trembled, then peered out of the window. The hawk’s gaze was piercing, like it had read Seth’s mind. “You want another girl, don’t you? You’re hoping she’s not carrying a boy.”

  Eric nodded, which made Seth shiver all over. “I don’t blame you. Aunt Rose still wishes Laurie wasn’t a homosexual, but between us, she’s grateful he never had to serve.”

  Again the hawk nodded, but this time it wouldn’t meet Seth’s gaze. Seth had never considered being anyone’s father, but he’d always thought Laurie would have been a good dad. Not that he’d ever expressed such wishes, but Laurie had a grand capacity to love. Tears fell down Seth’s face. “I’m sorry I dragged you all the way out here. Jesus Christ, I’ve hurt so many people.” Seth inhaled deeply, then let it out, seating himself but still maintaining Eric in his sights. “What’m I supposed to do now, huh? Where do I go from here? Can’t you just leave, can’t we just call it….”


  Now Eric stared directly at Seth, the bird’s dark eyes nothing like those of a human, yet the longer Seth looked, the more oval they appeared. Seth blinked, finding Eric still peering at him, those eyes round but as if Eric could change form in the time it took Seth to blink again. How did the transformation happen, and how long could Eric remain as a hawk? If Seth continued to drag his feet, might Eric never alter back into a man?

  The hawk offered a stoic cry, which made Seth grimace. “Five months, huh, good God.” If Seth had understood correctly, Eric had left home on the Fourth of July, right after Seth had been admitted into this hospital. Laurie had said the couple’s baby was due in January, dates that made Seth slightly dizzy. He closed his eyes, leaning over in his chair. Eric wasn’t going anywhere until all possibilities had been exhausted. Yet, unlike how Laurie had claimed the same, this didn’t weigh upon Seth in a painful manner. The wooziness subsided and he looked up, finding Eric had moved to the far part of the yard. He appeared to be watching something, and Seth stood, again stepping to the window. But he didn’t set his hands on the glass; he squinted, observing how Eric was going to obtain lunch.

  The lizard had to realize the hawk’s presence, but perhaps it felt that natural camouflage would keep it concealed. Yet Seth knew otherwise, for not only was Eric a bird of prey, but a man with a family on his mind. Eric wouldn’t depart until Seth was well, yet while he remained in Florida, he would endeavor to stay as fit as possible, for who knew when he would leave, perhaps in the middle of winter. Seth permitted that consideration, for he was lost in the wonder, also the slight horror, of a creature about to lose its life. Within seconds, Eric reached for, killed, then ate the lizard. Seth didn’t move as this occurred and after Eric had consumed his prey, he turned around, nodding. Seth nodded back, pressing his hands firmly against the panes. There had been no rage in Eric’s action, only calculated premeditation. Yet Eric had only been a hawk for two months, plenty of human emotions still within him. “Will you forget you were ever a man,” Seth said softly, then he closed his eyes. Tears escaped, stinging his cheeks. Right before he was sent home, Seth had shut out his entire family, even Laurie. Then he choked as sobs began. Those last weeks in Korea, Seth had continually placed himself in the most dangerous situations, earning praise, as well as concern, from his commanders. Fellow soldiers understood, or those who truly recognized Seth’s actions; he’d been hoping to be killed. Yet somehow his life had been spared, if not his sanity. Yes, he’d been young, but still legally an adult, a man. But who was that man, a sculptor perhaps, a Jew? A survivor, but not of The Holocaust. Why was Seth still living?

  Rare were the times he pondered that question, more to capture his imagination was why had he been a spectacular failure at suicide? He smiled at himself, like it was the most ironic joke. He’d thought going to Florida would be the answer, yet here he was again locked away, but nothing in his life, regardless of its length, would ever be the same. Had Eric thought that when he changed back into a man, or when he turned into a hawk? Or when he became a father; how had that event altered the creature, still gazing at Seth. “What will happen to you?” Seth said, then he coughed. “If I get better,” Seth chuckled, “then will you stop changing?”

  The bird seemed to shrug, then looked to the sky. Then the hawk gazed at Seth, making him tremble. “I’ve never thought about it,” Seth replied. “I don’t know what kind of man I’m supposed to be.”

  What kind of man returned from such an abyss, Seth then mused, but not merely about himself. How had Eric altered over the years, as a painter, a husband, a friend. If Eric was a human being, Seth imagined they would be good friends, perhaps as close as Seth was with Laurie, without the pain. Art would connect them, also loss of their humanity, although Eric’s forfeiture only lasted as long as he was a hawk. Yet for how much longer could Seth exist in a similar manner, as if a beast of nature? His hands suddenly ached with such a thought, then Norah’s voice crept into his head: You’re a sculptor, correct? Was he? Seth gazed at his hands, then thought of how gently she had touched him, as though she could will that gift back into him. Seth stared at Eric, taking in nothing remotely human. But somehow this creature would again transform into that of an artist, a husband and father and of…. A man. Was it a miracle, Seth wondered, it must be. And if that was possible, what if he could fashion some semblance back to the person he’d been years ago, although the guise wouldn’t be that of a youth. Yet not even in his early twenties had Seth been close to adulthood, to manhood, in whatever manner it was meant to be for him. He was thirty-four years old, although he rarely considered his age. Before he had been ageless, but even hawks had limited lifespans. Yet Seth didn’t worry that Eric’s alterations would affect how long he lived. More to the point was Seth’s own timeline; it wasn’t extraordinary, other than how often he had stirred in yet another medical facility. He looked behind him while a shiver traveled up and down his spine. When he woke after this most recent attempt, he knew it would be his last unsuccessful try. Had that been why he had asked about Eric, was some small part within him hoping to be rescued?

  And if so, why? Was there art to complete, some vast truth to be explained, what was the reason? Seth returned to face the window, seeing not only Eric as a bird. Another vision hovered, but it had nothing to do with war or death or pain. It was healing in nature, and so close to his grasp, stirring something warm within his chest. Laurie occasionally roused such a feeling of…. Hope flickered inside Seth’s ribcage, first as a spark, then slowly building into a fire spreading through his upper body, then shooting down to his lower limbs. His legs tingled, his hands itched, but not like when he worked with clay. These sensations were stronger, perhaps how Eric felt when he changed form. Yet there was no agony, and somehow Seth understood Eric’s transformations weren’t this straightforward. Seth looked at his arms, then to his legs, that feeling still coursing through him. Then he gazed at Eric. “Will you stay? I don’t think I can do this alone.”

  The hawk nodded, then leaped as close as he could get and still be seen. They were separated by the confines of the hospital, but Seth imagined Eric was actually standing right behind him, ready to catch Seth in waiting arms. Seth closed his eyes as that idea swirled through him, then he was caught up in that still lingering hope, washing through his veins. He began to cry, then fell to his knees as huge, silent sobs wracked his frame. But the hope didn’t leave him, nor did Eric fly away. Once Seth had permitted that realization, he inhaled, then exhaled, getting to his feet. The hawk had moved across the small courtyard, seemed to be collecting stones. Seth sat down, then began to speak about Korea. The ideas were connected to the blue barn and while the hawk continued gathering rocks, he listened to everything Seth needed to say.

  Chapter 132