In the morning, Lynne and Jane accompanied the Aherns to morning mass. By then they knew more information; Vivian would be staying in Colorado long enough to assure that Beth and Roy’s estate was being properly processed. As the children’s only blood relative, Vivian had become their guardian, a position she seemed aware of, but previously the notion hadn’t been more than a formality. Renee had spoken with Vivian yesterday afternoon, hearing profound sadness within her co-worker’s voice. Renee wondered if this tragedy, compounded with Vivian’s other losses, might be too much for the woman to take, not to mention now being the sole caregiver for a three and five-year-old. Ann and Paul Hamilton were now Vivian’s responsibility, Renee shared with Sam and Lynne, but Vivian was near retirement age. Maybe she would take early retirement, but not as she had once imagined.
While Lynne remained seated during communion, Renee and Sam took Jane up to receive a blessing. Father Markham smiled at them, but his surprise at their rare weekday attendance couldn’t be disguised, not to mention the little girl in Renee’s arms. Jane spoke in what to Renee sounded like Polish, making Renee wonder if Father Markham’s collar reminded Jane of Pastor Jagucki. As they returned to their seats, Renee wanted Marek to be aware of what was unfolding in Colorado; Vivian and those children needed all the support possible.
Sam would probably speak with Father Markham before leaving church, then Lynne would ferry Sam home. Renee was going straight to work, a long day ahead of her. Yesterday Dr. Howard had appreciated Renee’s assistance, even if she was a relative newcomer to the office. The other nurse wasn’t managerially inclined, Dr. Howard had quietly said to Renee. Vivian ran the practice, he’d smiled, then sighed, as if realizing she had already moved on.
As the service was concluded, Renee held Jane while Lynne blew her nose. Sam stood immediately, but Renee knew that was to let her out of the pew so she could be on her way. She wanted to see Father Markham’s reaction to why they were there, as well as Lynne and Jane. But Renee didn’t tarry, kissing Sam’s cheek, then handing Jane to him. Renee leaned toward Lynne. “Thanks for coming this morning.”
Lynne nodded, wiping her eyes. “Shall we have dinner together again tonight?”
Renee smiled. “Sounds good. At our house?”
“Sure. I’ll tell Sam and….”
Renee nodded, squeezing Lynne’s shoulder. She gave Sam one more kiss, stroking Jane’s head. As parishioners filed out, Renee joined the queue, quickly shaking the priest’s hand. Then she slipped out of St. Anne’s, nearly running to the Chevy, pulling out of the parking lot as soon as it was safe to do so.
Jeremy Markham was distressed to learn why the Aherns, their godchild, and Jane’s mother were present that morning, promising Sam that he would indeed pray for those orphans, their late parents, and their aunt too. Father Markham said he would inform Father Riley, as well as St. Anne’s rosary prayer group. Sam was taken aback at the priest’s interest, but knew all supplications were needed. During the drive home, Lynne broached dinner, and Sam offered to cook. Lynne said she would make a pie, then she asked if she could invite Marek. Sam nodded, but for a few seconds he wished it would only be the four of them. Then Sam sighed softly, but he didn’t think Lynne heard him, for Jane was babbling, although Sam could make out a few words, mama and no and did she say pie? He turned around, and Jane smiled broadly. “Did you just say pie?”
Lynne chuckled. “She most certainly did. Sam, I don’t need to call Marek, it’s just that….”
“No, no.” Sam grimaced, but he was still looking at Jane, who then stared at him. Sam broke into a grin, not wishing to upset the toddler, who responded with another wide smile, then more gibberish. Sam turned back around, seeing Lynne was nearly on his street. “It’s just, well….” He wanted to say that Jeremy Markham’s eagerness to pray for the Hamilton orphans seemed excessive. But that would sound in poor taste, for those children needed God’s protection. Vivian required Mary’s strength, and the parents…. Renee hadn’t learned if Beth and Roy were Christians, although she knew they weren’t Catholic. They were dead now, did that make any difference? Sam didn’t think so. If all soldiers went to heaven, maybe mothers and fathers did too.
Reaching the Aherns’ house, Lynne parked where the Chevy usually sat, but she didn’t turn off the engine. Sam stared at her, wondering many things. What he might cook that night was one detail, but more importantly, he didn’t want Lynne to think he held her pastor in disregard. “Please, call Marek. Better to have as many praying for them as possible.”
Lynne nodded. “Have you told any of your family?”
Sam sighed. They hadn’t informed anyone beyond their priest. He wasn’t sure why, other than Renee’s clan was wrapped up in Ritchie’s issues, and as for the Aherns…. Sam should at least call Ted. And Henry, who headed up the rosary prayer group at his church. But Sam felt odd about notifying his siblings, for this wasn’t directly related to him. This was a woman with whom Renee worked, and had only known for the last few months. Well, several months, Sam chided himself. But Vivian had done a great deal for Renee when Sam had been sick, and while Renee had returned Ann’s bear, now Renee would be assuming an even greater role for her co-worker. But Vivian was merely Renee’s workmate and those children had nothing to do with….
Sam swallowed hard, comprehending Father Markham’s intention. Maybe intention was too strong a word, but that priest had been instrumental in putting the Aherns in touch with two orphanages. Did he now assume that was unnecessary? Sam hadn’t considered this at all, had Renee? Did Lynne, he wondered, staring at her, but she was paying attention to Jane, who seemed to be falling asleep in the back seat. Sam shivered, then quietly cleared his throat. “Listen, take her home, and I’ll call you with dinner plans. And do invite Marek, I just didn’t wanna bother him with something so….” Unrelated to me, Sam wanted to say. This wasn’t more than Renee filling in for Vivian until she could sort out how she was going to incorporate two children into her life. The Aherns were still waiting to hear from the nuns at St. Francis’, maybe they had tried to call yesterday, but Sam had been at the Snyders. Maybe they had tried to call that morning, yet it had been good to go mass, receive communion, then speak with Father Markham. Sam needed to get inside; perhaps those nuns were calling every five minutes. Plus he had to go to the store and his car needed gas and…. He coughed and Lynne stared at him. “I’d better get going, need to run errands.”
“Of course.” Lynne leaned over, embracing him. “It was good to be with you this morning.” Lynne smiled, then sighed. “Sometimes I wish St. Matthew’s had daily services. But I suppose I could just pop in at St. Anne’s. Father Markham didn’t seem to mind giving Jane a blessing.”
Sam looked at Lynne, seeing no guile in her eyes. If Eric hadn’t chosen to be a Lutheran, this woman would attend St. Anne’s every Sunday, and perhaps daily too. Sam could go to mass every morning, but he rarely considered it. “Well, I don’t have anything going on early next week. If you want, I’ll meet you at church.”
Lynne nodded. “That would be lovely. And next time, I’ll join you for that blessing.”
Sam inhaled deeply, feeling small peace within his heart. “Father Markham would probably be happy to give you communion.”
“I’ll ask Marek tonight if that’s all right.” Then Lynne smiled. “My goodness, what would my parents think?” She shook her head, then had a soft chuckle. “You better go. I think Jane’s out.” Lynne glanced to the back seat, then nodded. “Shall we be back here around four, and I’ll tell Marek to come at five?”
Sam nodded, but felt a little dizzy. “Uh sure, four, then Marek at five. Yeah, that’s, uh, fine.” He got out of the car, slowly closing his door. He stood in the driveway as Lynne backed out, then drove away. Sam remained next to the old car for another few minutes, mulling over these strange pieces of information.
While activity buzzed on the West Coast, in Manhattan Stanford kept busy with various clients as well as monitoring Eric’s travelin
g exhibit. Stanford had shared dinner on consecutive nights with his father, then endured a lengthy telephone conversation with Rose, who asked Stanford when he thought Laurie might return. It had seemed there was nothing more that Laurie could do for Seth, but for some reason he was still down there, and couldn’t Stanford say something to make Laurie come home? Stanford felt as Rose did, although he didn’t admit to it, in part that he found Rose’s concerns slightly irksome. If Laurie felt it necessary to remain in Miami, what business was it of theirs? Stanford wondered how much of Rose’s mood was also that of her sister, but he didn’t ask, for that would have kept him on the phone even longer. He remarked upon it to Agatha when he saw her the next day, and she had little to add other than she was praying for Seth. Her tone was resigned, which reflected Stanford’s feelings. But still Laurie did not make overtures about returning north. Stanford spoke to him a few days after Rose’s call, which Stanford didn’t detail to his lover. Laurie noted that Seth was still quite unstable, then he paused abruptly. The line was silent for half a minute, then Laurie quietly told Stanford about the incident with the hawk. And that since then the hawk had appeared outside Seth’s window every time Laurie visited, which was daily. Seth didn’t respond much, and while Laurie knew it sounded crazy, until that hawk hit the road, he felt compelled to remain in Florida. Laurie took a deep breath after speaking, like he’d confessed a major indiscretion. Stanford kept his voice even, telling Laurie to do what he felt was appropriate. And to please call his mother, explaining as much of this as Laurie thought Rose could understand.
After that conversation, Laurie felt a weight had been lifted, if only that now Stanford knew what Laurie had observed. Maybe Stan thought Laurie was losing his own mind, but since that afternoon in the parking lot, Laurie had accepted his role in Florida wasn’t merely that of an advocate for an ill relative. The hawk’s arrival had initially seemed innocuous, but then so had Seth’s decision to enlist in the army. Had Seth known he would be as gifted a marksman as he’d been with clay? Sometimes Laurie considered that, but trying to ask Seth such a question would be as successful as asking the hawk why he was there.
Sometimes Laurie broached that query, but the hawk never did more than caw, or occasionally poking at its right wing. Then Laurie would turn back to his cousin, who usually wouldn’t make eye contact. Laurie wasn’t sure why that was; maybe Seth didn’t have the cognitive ability, or he didn’t want to meet Laurie’s gaze. For since the hawk had basically dragged Laurie back inside this facility, Laurie had spoken the truth to Seth; he knew about Seth’s role in Korea, and why Seth had chosen such an assignment. And that the only way Seth was going to leave the hospital was if he could talk about it to Dr. Sellers, or with Laurie. Or with the hawk, who seemed a vital member of this team. But Seth refused to utter more than the random expletive, or muttering that Laurie needed to leave. Yet Laurie returned day after day, and now he considered a few practical matters. He needed more trousers, having only packed shorts. He might look into buying a cheap car, although Sheila and Mickey insisted he use theirs. And he wanted a haircut. That was the easiest issue to amend, and as he sat near the window, the hawk right outside, Laurie mentioned it aloud. “If I don’t find a barber soon, I’ll be looking like you used to.”
Seth stared at the door, not acknowledging Laurie’s statement with more than a mild grunt.
Laurie stood from his chair, then peered at the hawk, who seemed to gaze absently into space. “I wonder if the hawk will recognize me afterwards. Well, he probably will, but who knows?” Laurie’s tone was flippant and he wanted to turn around to see if Seth responded. But now the hawk glanced at Laurie, then seemed to nod. “That damned bird, it’s like he knows everything I’m saying.”
In the last weeks, Laurie had to admit how this creature exhibited an air of authority, but it was ethereal in nature, or maybe Laurie had attached that sentiment after the bird had chastised him in the parking lot. That’s what it had felt like, as if Laurie was a teenager and his dad was reprimanding him for some infraction. Rose had kept her daughters in line, but it was Aaron to enforce the rules with the couple’s only son. Not that Laurie had been disobedient, but kids got into scrapes and parents had to deal with the fallout. But most of Laurie’s energy had been channeled into sports, leaving his folks with the impression that their youngest required little censuring. Seth hadn’t needed much in the way of attention either, spending most of his free time sculpting. Laurie turned around, finding his cousin still facing the door. “Do you wanna get out of here for a while?” Laurie asked. “I could see if Dr. Sellers was around, maybe we could get a wheelchair and….”
Slowly Seth faced Laurie. His hair was still shorn; maybe it was easier for the staff to keep Seth clean while he was so debilitated. Seth rarely got out of bed, although he did eat. Usually Laurie visited around lunchtime, bringing with him a cheeseburger and French fries. He always offered Seth some fries, which Seth refused. Laurie gazed at him, but Seth’s eyes were vacant. Laurie sighed, then looked back to the window, where the hawk remained.
“What am I supposed to do?” Laurie didn’t lower his voice; he needed to say these words, even if neither party would respond. Then he sat down, placing his arms on the hand rests. “I’m here, you wanted me here, but it doesn’t seem to be doing a damn bit of good.” Laurie shook his head, his hair waving from side to side. He ran his fingers through it, then had a sarcastic chuckle. “Stan wouldn’t like my hair this long, he’d say I was looking….” Now Laurie laughed. “Like a queer. It does look pretty effeminate.” He spoke that word with force. “I’m surprised Uncle Mickey hasn’t said something about it yet.”
Then Laurie sighed. “Jesus Christ, why am I here?” He stood, then stared out the window. “Nothing’s changed, he’s not any better. Maybe you don’t have anything going on, but Stan’s waiting on me, and God knows my mother wants me home, not to mention my clients, Christ, if I have any left.” Laurie shoved his hands in his pockets, fighting the urge to turn around. He had spoken aloud about Seth’s tenure in the army, the figurines in the library, even about The Holocaust. But none of those subjects had raised any dissent. “Shit, I’ve been here for ages and for what? So some bird can harass me and my hair’s too long and, and…. And I miss home. I miss Stan, Agatha, my God, how I miss her coffee.” Laurie smiled. “I miss New York, Jesus, that’s funny to admit. And all my pictures of Jane, well, I’m getting quite a collection, but….”
A piercing screech made Laurie turn around; he found Seth sitting bolt upright, gazing at the window. Laurie shivered, for Seth’s eyes were wide, as if finally a spell had been broken. “Jane’s a year and a half old now,” Laurie said softly. “We don’t know how long Eric’s been gone, I wonder if she misses him as much as I miss Stan.”
And you, Laurie wanted to add, but Seth still gawked at the window. He also gripped the sheet, and Laurie approached him, wishing to touch Seth’s right hand. Instead Laurie stood near the bed, watching how Seth never took his eyes from the window. “Eric’s been gone since sometime after you were admitted here. Maybe he’s in a similar place, we don’t know. But if he’s really unwell, I hope Lynne or Sam will tell us.”
“He’s, he’s….” Seth’s voice trembled, then he met Laurie’s gaze. “He’s right outside that window. He’s been here the whole time.”
“Oh Seth, no.” A chill ran through Laurie, then he sat on the mattress, stroking his cousin’s hand. “That’s just a hawk.” Then Laurie shook his head. “Well, it’s not just any hawk, but it’s not Eric.”
“It is Laurie.” Seth’s voice was plaintive. “Eric Snyder is right outside my room.”
“Seth….” Laurie sighed. “Listen to me. That is just a bird. Eric’s painted a lot of hawks, but….”
The screech made Laurie flinch, then he stared toward the window. The bird hovered just past the panes, then it flew off. Laurie stood, stepping to the window, gazing upwards. Then he stared at the cement. As he did so, the hawk returned, shaking ou
t its feathers, then poking at its right wing. It affixed its gaze directly at Laurie, taking him back to that afternoon in the parking lot when he’d been mesmerized by a creature that seemed to know him. Laurie glanced at Seth, who nodded, then sighed. “That bird is Eric. He changes into a hawk, although don’t ask me how or why. But I wouldn’t lie about something so….”
“Stop, just stop it Seth.” A sick ache bubbled in Laurie’s stomach, then he shook his head, trying to conjure a reason for Seth’s claim. There was none, Laurie inhaled. Yet as he exhaled, staring at Seth, Laurie knew his cousin believed all he was saying.
“I wasn’t gonna tell you,” Seth muttered, as if trying to make the peace. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now. I’d wondered if he’d be able to fly that far, wasn’t sure he could do it, but he did and….”
“Seth, shit, stop this, stop….” Anger now swirled through Laurie, although he wasn’t only mad at Seth. Glancing at the window, Laurie wanted to throttle the hawk, who continued to peer at Laurie with the most intense stare. How was that possible, Laurie permitted for a moment; it was merely a bird, maybe a little tuned in with what was going on here, but people didn’t morph into animals. Eric was a talented artist, nature in his proverbial backyard, and…. “This’s bullshit,” Laurie muttered under his breath. He turned around, finding Seth sitting on the edge of the mattress. Laurie looked back to the window, where the hawk waited.
“Oh for Chrissake!” Laurie again shook his head, then ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve gotta get outta here. I’ll see you tomorrow Seth. You and Eric can have a grand old time together. Or actually,” Laurie snickered. “Maybe I should introduce you, since you haven’t actually met. Seth, that’s Eric.” Laurie motioned to the window. “And Eric….”
For a second Laurie shivered. Then he laughed. “Eric, this is my cousin Seth. Now, if you two will forgive me, I need to see a barber.” Laurie stomped to the door, then turned the handle. But it was locked from the outside, which he had forgotten. He sighed loudly, then swore.
As he did so, Seth stood from bed, then made his way to the window. Laurie looked up, finding his cousin gazing at the outside world, his hands placed firmly upon the panes. Laurie thought he heard Seth speaking, and he tried to tune out, but Seth’s voice filled the room, pleading with Eric to go home to his pregnant wife, that there was nothing he could do here. Laurie shut his eyes, feeling trapped, but not due to the locked door. The bird’s screech tore into Laurie’s heart as fiercely as Seth’s erroneous statements. Then the room was silent.
Opening his eyes, Laurie turned around. Seth now sat in the chair near the window, his hands folded in his lap, his head bowed. Laurie squinted, but couldn’t see the hawk. He walked to where his cousin sat, then he peered out of the window. The hawk’s wings were folded in front of him, and he was looking at the ground, as if he was praying. “What the hell’s going on here?” Laurie said softly. But no one answered him. He tapped his foot, then sighed. Then Laurie closed his eyes, pleading for someone to let him out of this room.
The door opened immediately, Dr. Sellers poking his head through the crack. “Mr. Abrams, are you ready?”
Laurie jumped at the sound of his name, nodding his head. Quickly he joined where the doctor stood in the corridor. Yet unlike how he usually made small talk with Seth’s physician, Laurie didn’t speak. He rushed to where the car was parked, but once inside the vehicle, he didn’t start the engine. Laurie broke down, beseeching anyone listening to end this madness for all of their sakes.
Chapter 131
The Hawk: Part Seven Page 11
