July fourth was on Thursday, what Sam and Renee noted to each other, what Renee carefully pointed out to Lynne. Lynne didn’t mention it to Eric, who had avoided the studio since their nocturnal frolic. Yet on Tuesday, the second of July, while still suffering impending sensations of departure, Eric asked his wife if they should have a cook-out, inviting the Aherns and Marek. Lynne was taken aback by Eric’s suggestion for two reasons; one that he assumed he might still be there on the fourth, and that it was the two-year anniversary since Sam had witnessed Eric transform. Yet Eric’s mood had improved since they had made love on the studio sofa, bolstering Lynne’s peace of mind. She agreed to Eric’s suggestion, calling Renee, then Marek. Renee quickly gave her and Sam’s assent, offering to bring whatever Lynne needed. Marek also accepted the invitation, but more warily. Lynne wondered if the pastor’s hesitation was due to not wishing to witness Eric changing form or if Marek felt his presence might impede upon that alteration. She kept Marek’s qualms to herself, but would make two pies regardless. Sam and Renee hadn’t visited in ages and would be happy to relieve Lynne of leftover dessert.
On Wednesday morning, Stanford called, informing the Snyders that Seth was being transferred to the Kerr Mental Hospital, probably that afternoon. The move had originally been slated for next week, but an opening had arisen, and Laurie wanted Seth relocated as soon as possible. The upcoming holiday mattered little, Stanford noted, his tone flat. Once Jane was asleep, Eric and Lynne discussed this news. Stanford had hinted that he was considering flying to Miami, if only for a brief visit with Laurie. Eric suspected that Stanford would ultimately back out, but if that man did end up in Florida while Eric was there, Stanford probably wouldn’t notice an errant hawk loitering nearby.
But would Laurie, Lynne asked. Her tone wasn’t teasing and Eric shrugged. Then he sighed. “I’ll probably run into him, I mean, I assume he’ll be there as often as Seth’s allowed visitors. I should call the hospital, find out what their policies are. Not that they’ll allow birds into the facility, but maybe there’s a garden, maybe he’ll be able to….” Eric stood from the sofa, where the couple had been sitting. He walked to the far wall, staring at the open space, where the orchard scene had resided. He traced the outlines of that missing canvas, keeping his back to Lynne. “Maybe Sam can look into it; Stanford made it sound like it’s the best hospital in that area. He also sounded….” Now Eric faced his wife. “Lonely. Funny, you’ll have everyone here and Laurie has Seth, but Stan and I are on our own.”
Lynne nodded, a hint of a smile on her face. “But you’ll never be able to tell him.” She stood, joining her husband. “Maybe he’ll go to Miami. Goodness knows Laurie could use the support.” Lynne caressed her husband’s face. “Not that Laurie’s alone down there, but it’s not his closest family and….” She sighed again. “I hope Stanford goes. Maybe you’ll have to lie low for a few days, I can’t imagine he’d stay longer than a few days.”
“No, too much in the art world he’d miss.” Eric smiled, then kissed his wife. “It’s neither here nor there. If nothing else, he’s thinking about it. Maybe that’s enough for them.”
“Maybe,” Lynne said, snuggling against Eric. “But right now, I want you.”
Eric stroked her head, kissing her cheek. “I need you too. You think if we go upstairs, Jane will notice?”
“Better if she wakes for that than if we’re in the studio. We’d never hear her.”
Lynne’s tone was light, although Eric had been correct; this time he and Stanford were the odd men out. As Eric made more passionate overtures, Lynne gestured for them to move to the sofa. She could lay a blanket over the cushions, then throw that comforter in the laundry. As Eric stepped in that direction, Lynne followed, not thinking of anything other than making love to her husband. Jane slept through that activity, but was awake as parents caught their breaths. Eric dressed, then fetched the toddler, who didn’t seem to notice her mother’s ruddy coloring or her father’s languid steps. The baby only cared about being cuddled, which occurred on the sofa after Lynne hastily tossed the blanket onto the carpet.
For the remainder of the day Eric spent time with his wife and daughter. That evening he took a call from Laurie; Seth was resting comfortably, yet he seemed slightly anxious, which Laurie attributed to the new facility. Give him a few days, Laurie had said, then maybe some beneficial treatment could begin.
Those words fell into Eric’s ears like an edict, but he responded casually, telling Laurie that Seth remained in all of their prayers. Laurie gave his sincere thanks, which also touched Eric. The call ended with Laurie promising to keep the Snyders updated, but that he probably wouldn’t know more until next week. The holiday might intrude, but more was that Seth needed to get into a routine. The staff was excellent; Kerr had a fantastic reputation, but psychiatrists could only do so much. Yet Seth seemed willing to explore the possibility of healing. The way Laurie phrased it struck Eric deeply. It was like Seth was waiting for one more piece of the puzzle. If Eric played the role Seth was anticipating, maybe change was looming.
Change was imminent as twinges flared within Eric’s guts, turning into flashes of pain as Wednesday became Thursday. His arms ached, then the pain abated, but as the Aherns arrived, Eric knew only hours remained for him as a man. He told Sam that, and that he was sorry it was falling on this date. Sam shook his head, then gripped Eric’s hands. Sam said nothing, but his prayers were translated as if Eric felt those missives through Sam’s skin. Eric also prayed, thanking God for providing Lynne with such stalwart support. At least Eric wouldn’t have to worry about his family’s welfare.
After that the two couples chatted amiably, then conversation grew slightly awkward when Renee asked when Marek was supposed to arrive. Lynne said he had been told the same time as the Aherns, then Eric smiled, stepping from his chair on the patio. “I’ll give him a call, see if something came up.”
Jane made the only noise, calling after her father, but soon the toddler was amused by her aunt. Sam also distracted Jane, playing Peek-A-Boo, but Lynne kept her eyes on the French doors. When Eric finally emerged from the house, Lynne knew Marek wouldn’t be joining them that afternoon. Eric said as much when he reached the group. Then Eric sighed. “I guess it’s too close for him.”
“I wondered,” Sam nodded. Then he glanced at Jane, who laughed at nothing in particular. “Not much else to be said, I suppose.”
“No, not really.” Eric retook his seat, then stretched his arms overhead. He met Sam’s gaze, making that man shiver. Sam would never forget what had occurred on this day two years before. Would it again happen, and if so…. Then Sam glanced at his wife, but Renee wouldn’t meet his stare. Instead she smiled at Jane and Sam permitted that joy. They had been talking about adopting, but not from St. Joseph’s. Father Markham had mentioned another orphanage, but it was much further away. Still, at least they were speaking of making a family, and Sam would give his wife whatever time she needed. Maybe all of this with Seth had provided Renee with perspective; life was short and Eric was being wrenched away from his wife, daughter, and another baby on the way. Sam wasn’t certain if Lynne being pregnant played any part, but Renee seemed more than happy to dote on her godchild. To Sam, that was enough of a miracle. Then he glanced at Eric, who now stood behind his wife, rubbing Lynne’s shoulders. Eric’s grimace relayed but a fraction of the pain Sam knew was coming. That agony made Sam’s stomach ache, for as he would never forget what happened on this day in 1961, he would forever possess the memories of how Eric returned from that sojourn. Those screams were buried alongside Sam’s Korean experiences, but being less than two years old, occasionally they stirred nightmares. Fortunately those dreams were hedged in the reality of Eric’s recovery. And if God was willing, Eric would again return home, changing back into a man. Sam prayed for that miracle as he watched Eric crack his knuckles, the transformation only minutes away.
Renee saw the same, although she couldn’t look Eric in the eye. She stood, speaking
to Jane in a soothing voice, then Renee headed for the house. No one had needed to prompt her and it wasn’t as if she’d discussed this possibility with Lynne. Renee simply followed the leading of her heart, removing her godchild from a scene that Renee then prayed Jane would never witness. Renee stepped into the living room, closing the French doors behind her. She headed to the stairs, still talking to Jane, who clapped her hands, then tugged gently on Renee’s hair. Into the nursery they went, but Renee didn’t close that door. She set Jane on the floor, then shut the window, but the bottom of the curtain was caught, flapping in the slight breeze.
A godmother stared at that fluttering piece of fabric as Jane laughed like she saw the same. Then Renee turned around, but Jane was fixated on brightly colored blocks. Renee returned to the window, which faced the backyard. Renee didn’t peer down, instead looking at the sky, which seemed a particularly captivating shade of blue. She was glad Marek hadn’t joined them, no one needed to see Eric change, it was…. It was something Renee couldn’t accurately describe; good and bad, necessary but painful, momentary but lasting. Could what had happened to Marek’s family be described similarly, or what about Seth’s illness? Nothing connected to those situations was at all good or essential, making Renee shudder. Then she looked at Jane, who stacked blocks, then knocked them down. Renee went to her knees, then sat beside the child who to Renee looked much like Lynne. Was it Jane’s dark hair, perhaps? Jane was a carbon copy of her mother, except for her vivid blue eyes.
Those eyes now beseeched Renee to make her own stack of blocks and Renee complied. Then with a naughty chuckle, Jane knocked those toys to the floor. Renee burst into laughter. “You little bug-a-boo!” That had become Renee’s pet name for Jane since Renee had allowed this child back into her heart. Then quick tears sprang from Renee’s eyes. She collected Jane into her arms, shielding her from a sound that Renee couldn’t ignore. The screech was loud and Renee turned toward the window; had she fully closed it? Maybe that crack, accommodating the curtain, now permitted a father one last goodbye to his daughter. A hawk swooped past, crying in earnest. Renee wanted to protect her goddaughter, but the bird made a return trip. With Jane still in her grasp, Renee got up from the floor. Together they stood at the window as Eric made one more pass. Jane seemed not to notice, but Renee grabbed the toddler’s hand, waving it. “Say so-long to Daddy,” Renee mumbled, tears pouring down her face.
By the time Eric had altered, Marek had finished weeding the flowerbed. He smirked at himself, spying the pile of weeds; he hadn’t been able to join the Snyders, yet he couldn’t remain inside St. Matthew’s. And more troubling was that instead of keeping his eyes on the skies, he’d spent all that time hunched over, doing the bidding of an old woman who would always hate him simply for his nationality. Why did his Polish heritage bother her, he wondered, then he got off the ground, brushing dirt from his trousers. He stretched out his back, then put his hands on his hips. The gardener might give him a funny look, but Marek hadn’t wanted another dressing down. Then he sighed, finally looking upwards. The sky was a gorgeous shade of blue, which made him smile. It reminded him of home, how magical were those days of his childhood.
The blue was rich, maybe it was related to what this country was celebrating on that day. Mrs. Kenny had asked him his holiday plans, then she had tutted herself, but Marek had chuckled, wishing her a good time at the picnic she was attending. That had been on Monday, before Eric had invited him for the cook-out. Marek never did tell Carla Kenny about that summons, which would make it easier when he saw her on Monday, nothing more to note than church business. She had offered to come in tomorrow, but Marek had told her to enjoy the long weekend. He wasn’t expecting a big crowd on Sunday, but would Lynne and Jane come for worship?
Marek didn’t include the other member of the Snyder family. Eric was probably on his way east already, Marek could feel that man’s absence in the same manner he had realized his family was dead when he approached their village, smoke still visible in the dark sky. The haze had probably lasted for days, although Marek hadn’t stayed long enough to see it dissipate; perhaps it had been blown away by a stiff wind. Eric was headed across the country and Marek prayed for that man’s safe return. Then the pastor closed his eyes. He couldn’t ask why, although he wished for a reason, if not for himself then for Lynne and Jane, Sam and Renee too. Yet Eric’s immediate kin resonated in Marek’s heart. If they attended church on Sunday, Marek would insist that they stay for lunch. He hadn’t been able to be there for them today, but as time passed, he would offer as much support as was feasible.
The breeze felt good on his face, which was marked with sweat. He gazed at his handiwork; the flowers were again prominent, so Mrs. Harmon would have to look elsewhere for something over which to badger him. Marek collected the weeds, a few falling back to the sidewalk. He bent over to gather them, gripping the pile in clenched hands. He walked to the back of the church where a mound of clippings waited. His additions were minor, then he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He scanned the skies, seeing only that mesmerizing shade of blue. He smiled, unable to help himself. It was a beautiful day, perhaps befitting such ethereal occurrences.
He returned to the front steps, looking down both sides of the street. Mrs. Harmon was nowhere to be seen; she would probably wait until dusk, he mused. Marek shook his head, then headed up the stairs. The screech made him shake, then turn around. On the first step was a hawk, staring right at him.
Marek inhaled slowly, exhaling deliberately. His heart pounded, his vision was blurred. He blinked several times, but the hawk remained on that step. It was large and its eyes seemed strangely oval. Yet maybe Marek projected that, for he knew this creature wasn’t merely fowl. Marek wished to speak, but nothing came from his throat. He coughed, but the hawk didn’t react. It gazed at him, blinking occasionally. And with every blink, the bird’s eyes grew more round, Marek would swear that was the case. The creature pecked at the cement, then hopped onto the sidewalk. Marek couldn’t take his eyes off of it, of him. It was Eric, as again the hawk peered straight at the pastor. Eric was this bird of prey, no matter how much Marek wished otherwise.
“Godspeed my friend,” Marek said in a half whisper. Then he cleared his throat. “I assume you can understand me,” he smiled. “May you fly safely, accomplish the task in front of you, and return in God’s due time.”
The hawk nodded, then opened its wings wide. Then it launched itself into the air, swooping right over Marek’s head. The pastor looked up as the bird made one more pass. Then it flew off and Marek watched until he couldn’t see it anymore.
Marek went inside the church, then headed to his room. He took a bath, got dressed, then went into the kitchen. It was nearly five p.m., but he picked up the telephone anyways. He needed to speak to Lynne, but not for confirmation. This call was pastoral in nature, checking on a member of his flock.
Sam answered, making Marek smile. Then Lynne was put on the phone. “Hello Marek. How are you?”
“I was calling to ask that of you.” He paused, then continued. “I had a visitor about an hour ago. I assume Eric got off well?”
Lynne took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “He did. I wondered if he would head your way first.”
A brief chill ran down Marek’s back. Their conversation seemed innocuous, yet…. “I wished him a safe journey. I….” Now Marek shivered. “I’d been out gardening. I suppose I was hoping to see him.”
“Are you finished with your work?” Lynne asked.
Now warmth surged through Marek. “Indeed I am. The flowerbeds looked improved for my efforts.”
“Well, we have plenty leftover. I made two pies, but Sam says they can’t take more than a half home. We’d love to see you.”
Marek nodded, closing his eyes. He could still see Eric on the stoop, pecking at the ground. “I’d love to join you.” Marek opened his eyes, then walked to where he could view the painting of himself and Jane. “I’ll be there in about ten minute
s.”
“Wonderful,” Lynne said. “Looking forward to your company.”
“See you soon.” Marek waited for Lynne’s goodbye, then he hung up the receiver. He took one more glance at the painting, then exited the kitchen. He collected his keys, locked the church, then got into his car. As he drove out of town, he only paid attention to the road. Eric was in God’s care, but then they all were. Yet, Marek offered another prayer for that man, who for the foreseeable future was a most extraordinary creation. Godspeed indeed, Marek repeated inwardly. And Christ’s blessings to those awaiting Eric’s arrival, then his timely return, the pastor added.
_______________
Liner Notes
I started this novel in October 2013; at the time, I assumed I’d be penning another short story, the form I had been working in for much of that year. However, at over two-thirds completed, The Hawk currently stands at over 500,000 words. Never before have I embarked upon such a large project.
Over the last two years, other than poems for NaPoWriMo, I have written nothing else. Quilting has overtaken much of my free time, as has caring for my family; recently I have become a grandmother of two. I have also nursed my father through the end of his life, which fell upon the heels of my first grandchild’s arrival. Now with time to write and revise, I have chosen to share this behemoth in a beta-type manner. Part Seven will most likely be released in early spring, but please bear with this author while grandchildren, fabrics, and a new familial normal take precedence. In the meantime, thank you for joining me on this journey, which is a search for my Father as well as Eric’s. As this is a novel in progress, comments concerning this tale are welcome and can be sent to annascottgraham at gmail dot com.
About the Author
Anna Scott Graham was born in 1966 in Northern California. A mother and grandmother, she lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband, some hummingbirds, and numerous quilts.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends