The Hawk: Part Seven

  Sigrun Vang approached Klaudia’s door early on Saturday morning, but once on the step, Sigrun hesitated. Klaudia had been with Marek all week, only arriving home last night. Sigrun didn’t grasp any mail, although letters waited on her kitchen counter. Harald would ask why she hadn’t taken the post with her that morning, but nothing from America was mixed among the envelopes, and it wasn’t only that pastor on Sigrun’s mind.

  Finally she knocked, softly at first, then two more hearty raps. It was half past eight, and even if Klaudia had been tired from the journey, the sun was bright overhead and life stirred along their street. Then Sigrun smiled, hearing footsteps. The door opened with Klaudia poking her head through the door frame. “Do you know what time it is?” she mumbled.

  “Let me in, I need some coffee.” Sigrun pushed her way into the small foyer, then marched into the kitchen where the scent of coffee was mixed with tobacco. Klaudia had been awake, although perhaps not long. One lit cigarette sat in the ashtray, halfway smoked down, while a cup of coffee rested nearby. Sigrun poured her own mug, then went to the table, where from Klaudia’s open pack she removed a cigarette. Sigrun lit it, then took a long drag. Then she sat in her usual spot, grabbed her coffee cup, and inhaled the brew. It was the normal routine whether these women were at Klaudia’s house or the local cafe.

  They rarely shared coffee in Sigrun’s kitchen, unless Harald was on one of his rare business trips. Sigrun watched as Klaudia sat down, grabbed her smoke, then enjoyed an equally long hit. She set what remained in the ashtray, then leaned back in her chair. “Did you bring the mail?” she asked.

  “No, nothing but bills. How’s Marek?”

  Klaudia sighed, picked up what was left of the smoke, then finished it. She stubbed out the butt, sipped her coffee, then gripped the mug. “He’d had a seizure. But he’s all right now.”

  Her tone was resigned and no tears edged her eyes. Sigrun nodded. “Thank God.” Then she gazed at Klaudia. “If that was all, why’d they call you?”

  “Well, the seizure was new, and I was going there next week anyway.” She drank what remained in her cup, then set it on the table. “He seemed happy to see me. They said he was unconscious for several minutes, but he never stopped breathing, so….”

  Sigrun inhaled deeply, then exhaled with a cough. She took another drag, shook her head, then place the smoke in the ashtray. “Could they tell if this might be, well, something to expect?”

  “Oh, they have no idea.” Klaudia crossed her arms over her chest. “They do the best they can. They never expected him to live this long. Or if they did, they sure as hell did a good job hiding it from me.”

  Sigrun nodded. “How’d he look?”

  Klaudia shrugged. “The same, well, he’s lost a little weight. He always does in summer.” She fought a smile, then chuckled. “In that respect, he’s just like Gunnar, hates being cooped up. My God, he’d live outside if they’d let him.” She fiddled with the handle on her mug. “He still looks like he’s six years old, like if I could just….” She fought tears, only permitting a few to trickle down her cheeks. She sniffled back the rest, then lit another cigarette, taking long inhalations. “Anyway, he’s fine. We did a lot of walking, they wanted him to be active to see if that triggered the seizure. He was fine and maybe I lost a couple of kilos.”

  “I’m the one who needs to lose a kilo. Five kilos, mind you.” Sigrun picked up her smoke, finished it, then drank her coffee. “Well, if it’s nothing they can track, I guess it’s another thing to watch for, if it happens again.”

  “If it happens again, I’m not driving up there to trek around the woods.” Klaudia snorted, then sat up, placing clasped hands on the table. “It’s all unknown. They can’t tell me anything and he can’t either. Well, we did talk a little.” Now she smiled. “He told me about rabbits and squirrels.” She gazed absently into the room. “He’s taller than me now, but his voice, it’s just like he’s….” Klaudia took a breath, then let it out. “He’ll never change. If a seizure kills him, it won’t be the worst thing.”

  Sigrun nodded. “You do look like you’ve lost a few kilos.”

  “Is that your way of asking me to breakfast?”

  “At least. Lunch maybe too.” Sigrun smiled. “I’ll run home, tell Harald, grab the mail and….”

  Klaudia had stood from the table, stepping to the sink, gazing out the window. All there was to see was the next house over, some blue sky interspersed with white clouds, cars rumbling along the road. Sigrun joined her, but left space between them. Klaudia might speak forthrightly about her son, it was a manner of protection. But that wasn’t the only man on Klaudia’s mind.

  “There weren’t any letters from America. I’d have brought that one for certain.” Sigrun spoke softly as Klaudia kept staring out the window. “Harald will wonder why I didn’t bring it all over now. I just wanted to know if Marek was okay.”

  Klaudia nodded. Then she cleared her throat. “There won’t be any more letters from The United States.”

  Sigrun had a small gasp, then faked a cough, which brought on a real cough. She took several deep breaths afterwards, fully aware she smoked too much. Then she reached for Klaudia’s hand, gently placing hers on top of it. “Why no more letters from America?”

  “Because I made it clear there didn’t need to be.”

  “You what?” Sigrun stepped back, putting her hands on her hips. “Why the hell’d you do that?”

  Klaudia turned, wearing a quizzical gaze. “Why do you think?”

  “I have no idea, to tell you the truth. You said you….”

  “Oh my God, that was twenty years ago.” Klaudia snorted, then stared out the window again. “This is my life, right here on this street, or walking around the godforsaken woods with….” She paused for seconds. “My son.” Then she looked at Sigrun. “That’s the truth. He has his life and this’s mine and….”

  “What’d he tell you?” Sigrun had seen the letter, but it was written in English, so all she knew was what Klaudia had noted. Not that if he’d written in Polish would Sigrun have been able to read it. A few mysteries had been cleared since Klaudia had received that reply; she’d learned English from Gunnar before they moved to this neighborhood, before Klaudia had become a mother even. Gunnar had taught his new wife two languages simultaneously, in part that he knew little Polish, and from his job as a linguistics professor. Polish seemed to be one of the few tongues Gunnar Henrichsen couldn’t understand, but Klaudia had been a quick learner. They had hoped to speak several languages around their child, but that dream had immediately been discarded after Marek’s unfortunate birth. Then Gunnar had demanded they only converse in Norwegian, yet Klaudia kept up her English by reading newspapers and books when she had time. And after Marek had been sent away, time had become plentiful, permitting her to study English, although she claimed that speaking it was difficult. Sigrun threw up her hands. “Klaudia, answer me! Did he say….”

  “He just said that the baby belonged to some of his parishioners. That he’d survived, obviously. And that he was so glad to hear from me.”

  “Well then why in the world did you give him the brush-off?” Sigrun knew that Klaudia had written back to that pastor, in their native language; she’d seen the letter, a brief two pages in Polish. “If he was so glad to hear from you….”

  “I just told you. This is my life, case closed.”

  “Oh for goodness sake! That’s a load of….” Sigrun went for her mug, pouring more coffee. She sipped it, then put the cup on the counter with a thump. “You love him and….”

  “I do not.” Klaudia shook her head. “This’s ridiculous.” She gave a false laugh. “Listen, Harald is itching for breakfast. You feed him, then come back here and take me out. I need milk anyway, more smokes too.”

  Sigrun didn’t move. “Don’t lie to me, not about this. If you want to trick yourself about Marek, about your son,” she quickly added, “go right ahead. But don’t try to sweep this under the rug.” Sigrun approa
ched Klaudia, tracing around the woman’s weary eyes. “Do you think this is all life’s about, living alone with just me for company?” Sigrun gave a small smile. “I know I’m fairly exciting, but there’s so much more out there.” She gestured to the window. “If you play your cards right, you might finagle an invite to America, or if nothing else one hell of a correspondence, in Polish no less. You’ve paid your dues Klaudia, here and with your son. You named Marek for that man, what does that mean?”

  “It means nothing,” Klaudia whispered, fighting tears. “Listen, go home, I’m not hungry.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, but you could. Give me that letter. I bet he said much more than you’re telling me.”

  “I burned it.”

  Sigrun gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth. Then she wagged her finger at Klaudia. “You didn’t!”

  “What he said’s irrelevant. My son just had a seizure Sigrun and it won’t be the last. I’m stuck here and Marek, he, he….” Klaudia walked to the table, lighting a cigarette. She smoked for a minute, then turned around, facing Sigrun. “He’s the dream of a fourteen-year-old girl who died alongside him. Who we were then is long gone, I don’t care if he’s alive and living on Mars. He might as well be,” she snorted, taking another hit from the smoke. “I’m not that girl and he’s, he’s…. He’s a Lutheran pastor for God’s sake!” Klaudia laughed loudly. “He’s a man of the cloth, can you imagine that? Me and a reverend, now that’s some joke.” She tossed back her head, blonde hair flying. “I don’t even believe in God, how in the world could I possibly….”

  Sigrun stepped toward Klaudia, taking her cigarette and placing it on the edge of the sink. Then she grasped Klaudia’s hands. “I believe you still love him. Why don’t you think you deserve to be happy?”

  Klaudia trembled, shaking her head. “I told you, you know why.”

  “That has nothing to do with this. You were just a….”

  “We were the same age. He survived, all the rest are….”

  Not wishing to hear anymore, Sigrun pulled Klaudia close, muffling her words. Those words turned to tears as Klaudia’s smoke burned to ash along the sink’s edge.

  Dr. Sellers had smoked several cigarettes that day, but not during his session with Seth. For the last few days, Seth Gordon had altered drastically, although the psychiatrist wasn’t sure how much of Seth’s reemergence had to do with shock therapy, Thorazine, or the hawk, which had become a permanent fixture in the sealed-off courtyard just outside Seth’s window. If there had been a way to reach that small patio, the doctor would have allowed Seth to explore it, but it was inaccessible except to whatever creatures managed to fly or creep out there. The hawk was one such animal, and it flew in and out as Seth’s doctor visited his patient, who seemed to have made a decision regarding his treatment. Seth had begun speaking about that bird to staff who had wondered if this man would ever talk again.

  As Edwin Sellers tapped on Seth’s door, he didn’t expect any greeting, nor as he entered the room did he receive one. Seth was seated near the window and as Dr. Sellers approached, Seth met his gaze with what could be called a smile. Dr. Sellers grinned, but felt a little sick inside for how this man appeared; his head had recently been shaved again, he wore no shoes, and his clothes were far too large for him. Just days ago, when Seth was still unresponsive, this attire seemed perfectly acceptable. Now the doctor felt he was looking at the man he’d admitted back in July, who had disappeared in a manner that sometimes occurred. Some patients arrived in a relatively stable condition, then slipped further into psychosis. The remedies were introduced as needed and Seth had required some of the most drastic. Dr. Sellers didn’t like using electric shocks; he preferred chemical therapies, and Thorazine was a miracle drug. But Thorazine alone hadn’t provided Seth any relief, and coupled with shock treatments, the results had still been less than what Dr. Sellers had hoped. Yet this bird, hopping around outside Seth’s window, had changed the equation. Edwin hadn’t shared this fact aloud, but he’d detailed his findings in Seth’s notes. And he knew Laurie Abrams had seen a change, although Seth’s cousin hadn’t visited for a couple of days. “So Seth,” the doctor said brightly. “How are you feeling today?”

  Seth gave another small smile. “Better. How are you?”

  The doctor nodded, then gazed at the hawk. “I’m quite well. I see your friend is back. How is he today?”

  “He’s fine.” Seth peered out the window. “He isn’t going anywhere.”

  Dr. Sellers pulled up a chair and sat down. “Do you know where he’s from?”

  “Out west.” Seth gazed at the doctor. “I’m not sure which state though.”

  “Well, hawks are prevalent all over the country, so he could be from anywhere.”

  Seth nodded, then traced the scars on his arms, which had healed. “Did you see Laurie today?”

  “I haven’t seen him for a few days. Did you two have a disagreement?”

  Seth smirked, then sat on his hands. Then he clasped them in his lap. “Sort of. He didn’t like what I said about the hawk, I think I scared him off.”

  “What did you tell him about the hawk?”

  Seth sighed, then stood, standing very close to the window. Dr. Sellers winced, for this man seemed to have made a massive recovery in such a short time, yet he was still so fragile. However, in front of the doctor no longer stood someone helpless. Only a few times had Edwin noted such an immediate transformation, but modern advances had paved the way for such healing. Then he paid careful attention to his patient, who seemed to be talking to the hawk. Seth’s voice wasn’t more than a mumble, but he wasn’t making conversation with his doctor. Then he looked at Edwin. “What I’m gonna tell you,” Seth began, “will sound shocking. And it’ll probably impede my immediate release. And maybe I’ll go back on these words, then you’ll let me go home. But I can’t lie to you Dr. Sellers, just like I couldn’t keep lying to Laurie. I told him the same thing and it pissed him off, that’s why he hasn’t been around.”

  The doctor nodded, taking in some positive signs; Seth’s bearing was forthright, but tinged with the awareness of his limitations. Most importantly, he wanted to be released, although that was hedged by a caveat. “Seth, I want you to be discharged, nothing better would please me. Tell me what’s on your mind. Everything is relevant.”

  Seth smiled widely. Then he gazed outside the window, nodding. He faced the doctor again. “That hawk isn’t merely a bird. It’s a man. His name is Eric.”

  Dr. Sellers had heard more fanciful tales, so this didn’t alarm him. “And how do you know Eric? Was he in Korea?”

  “No.” Seth shook his head as if for added emphasis. “He’s an artist out west. Laurie’s boyfriend represents him. I’ve never been introduced to him, but….” Then Seth laughed. “Actually Laurie made the introductions a few days ago, when I told him that was Eric.” Then Seth sighed. “It’s gonna take some doing to convince him, I’m not sure how that’s gonna happen.”

  “How did Eric get here?” Dr. Sellers needed no persuading, but he did wonder if this Eric wasn’t actually one of Seth’s friends from the war.

  “He flew here, for me.” Seth sat down, then sighed heavily. “He left his wife, she’s expecting their second child in the coming year. He left his family to help me, but I didn’t want him to, I never thought….”

  He paused, then stood, gripping his upper arms. “I’ve known that he turns into a hawk for a while now, not that I know why. Before I came here, Laurie brought it up, that Eric knew I’d tried to kill myself again. It’s not just Laurie you know, I’ve hurt so many….”

  Then Seth cleared his throat. “I took a big gamble, but he made it. He changed into a hawk and flew all the way out here, and I didn’t wanna deal with that. Especially not after Laurie said his wife was having another baby. But then, then….” Seth knelt in front of the doctor. “Can you imagine what it means to have someone do something so selfless, so beautiful, taking themselves away from all who love them, ju
st to come here to help? Laurie’s done it all our lives, but this time he couldn’t carry it alone. Not that it was Eric’s responsibility, but….” Seth gripped the doctor’s hands. “He’s a Christian and I’m….” Seth smiled. “You see the correlation there, don’t you?”

  Dr. Sellers nodded. “Indeed. Do you find comfort in that?”

  “Yeah, it’s funny, but I do.” Seth stood, brushing dust from his knees. “But it’s not only that. Eric couldn’t go to Korea, his foot was damaged. And I knew that years ago, although I don’t know how. Anyway, he’s been telling me about the blue barn. A couple of years ago he painted a picture of a barn and as soon as I saw it, oh my God.” Seth took a deep breath. “Everyone’s in it, everyone who….” He gazed at the courtyard, then muttered under his breath. Then he looked at the doctor. “It’s full of people, some of who I killed. I shot so many people Dr. Sellers, maybe you should never let me outta here.”

  “That was during combat Seth.”

  “What’s the difference? It’s still murder.”

  Dr. Sellers breathed evenly, but his heart pounded. “War is an ugly fact of life. If not for conflict, you and I might not be standing here today.”

  Seth nodded, then sat, facing the doctor. “I know that, I do. But I also know why I went over there. Maybe that’s not nearly as crazy as what I’m telling you about Eric, or maybe it’s the same level of insanity. What do you think?”

  Wishing for a cigarette, Edwin Sellers took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “I think we have much to discuss and I’m so relieved you feel able to talk about these issues.”

  Seth laughed. “I agree, on both points. And if one day I tell you that no, the hawk is just a hawk, will you believe me?”

  Now Dr. Sellers chuckled. “Perhaps. It depends on what else you’ve had to say.”

  “Fair enough.” Seth sat back, then tugged at his clothes. “Do you have these in a smaller size?”

  The doctor nodded. “I think we can find you more appropriate attire. I also think you won’t need any more shock treatments.”

  “Not even with what I’ve told you today?”

  Dr. Sellers stood, shaking his head. “This is the tip of the iceberg, I’d like to assume. And who knows, maybe you’re right, about Eric.” The doctor gazed out the window, finding that bird poking at its right wing. Then it stared at the doctor. Edwin Sellers shivered, then moved away from the window, patting Seth’s shoulder. “I’m going to make some notes, then I’ll stop in later with new clothes. If you feel like talking, we can do that too.”

  Seth nodded. “Dr. Sellers, I just wanna get better so Eric can leave, then I can too.” Seth laughed. “That might be the most alarming thing I’ve said today.”

  “Perhaps. But it’s also the best thing. I’ll be back in a bit. And I look forward to hearing about this painter. A barn, you say?”

  “It’s the most amazing barn you’ll ever see in your life. If his paintings ever come to Miami, you have to see them. Eric Snyder is his name.”

  “I’ll write that down as well. All right, I’ll return after while.” The doctor headed to the door, unlocking it with his key. “Seth, it’s good to see you so animated.”

  Seth nodded, then gazed back out the window. As the doctor left the room, he heard Seth speaking. Quickly Edwin returned to his office and began writing notes. Only after he’d filled two pieces of paper did he stop for a cigarette, smoking it slowly, making a few corrections within Seth’s file along the way.

  Chapter 134