Why I wrote The Hawk

A possible cover shot for an upcoming installment of The Hawk. This was the view at our second residence while living in England.

Sometimes, well into writing a manuscript, I realize the true purpose for said story. Occasionally it's not at all related to why I began telling that tale; The Enran Chronicles qualifies, as do drafts I'll never publish, yet just as vital to me are those yarns spun for reasons only I needed to grasp.

When I started writing The Hawk, I thought it was going to be a short story. Laughing Out Loud! As it became something far more encompassing, I accepted it was a way to work through massive personal issues; becoming a grandmother as my father died, finding my role as a woman no longer that young, etc, etc, etc. But well into a third of the saga emerged previously unplanned characters and story lines which are some of the most meaningful I have been blessed to translate from my heart onto a virtual page. The scene that follows is but one example, as Sam Ahern learns why a Polish pastor matters greatly not merely to help Sam's wife Renee heal from depression, but in manners beyond what Sam could dream.

On Tuesday, Laurie called Eric, passing along the news. Eric rang Sam, then Sam called Frannie. Fran expressed her dismay, asking Sam if this would affect Jane’s party later that week. Sam said that no, the party was still on. And that if Fran wanted to bring deviled eggs, Lynne would appreciate it.

Sam had added that caveat, for Fran had been pestering him about what she could take on Saturday, and it was easier for Sam to sort that issue than calling back Eric, who would have to question Lynne. Sam didn’t want Lynne fretting about anything in addition to her usual concerns, which now included the Taylor family. But from what Sam knew about those folks, the passing of their matriarch wasn’t the worst they had suffered.

Now they could mourn her properly, not how they had been living with her ghost for the better part of a decade. What Sam knew about them he’d gleaned from Eric, and from Laurie. Sam didn’t know anything from Stanford; that man acted like other than his father, he had no relatives. Or rather, his relatives were all on the West Coast, well, the Snyders. Sam didn’t lump himself and Renee in that tiny clique, though he felt differently about Laurie. Sam truly liked Laurie Abrams and now felt quite ashamed when he considered his poor reaction to the men’s relationship this time last year. It wasn’t any of Sam’s business for one thing, and Renee had been right when she noted that Sam hadn’t seemed bothered by the rumors concerning his wife and Lynne. Yet, all that nonsense seemed like someone else’s life, for neither woman worked at the hospital. Lynne was a mother and Renee was…. She was speaking with Pastor Jaworski at that moment, or Sam hoped she was. And when she came home, after she shared whatever she felt was necessary, Sam would tell her about Stanford’s mother. They would discuss that during supper; Renee would probably want to send a sympathy card to Michael, but Sam wasn’t sure if she would get one for Stanford. He’d leave that up to her.

Other than waiting for Renee, there wasn’t much for Sam to do. That night’s meal was leftovers and now that he had spoken to Frannie, there wasn’t anyone else who needed to know about Constance Taylor, other than Renee. Maybe Eric had called Pastor Jaworski, perhaps right after he informed Sam. Sam had spent that day at home, for Renee had needed the car for her appointment. Tomorrow Sam would drive her to work and he’d do the same on Friday. But on Thursday she would see the pastor again and Sam sighed. They needed another vehicle, which might seem ostentatious to their neighbors. Yet Renee worked full time and they had the money. Sam didn’t want to flaunt their good fortune, but it was what it was. Maybe Eric and Lynne were happy with one car, but the Aherns were different.

Briefly Sam winced, then his stomach growled. He went into the kitchen, retrieving a few saltines from the cupboard. Normally he and Renee ate at a little past five; truthfully, he had supper waiting as soon as she stepped through the door. That night all he had to do was heat up spaghetti and cut a few slices of bread. Then Sam smiled. Why had he been so averse to Laurie and Stanford when his role wasn’t the norm?

For all intents and purposes, Sam was the housewife, Renee the breadwinner. She did the ironing, a task Sam loathed, but he tackled all the other chores, mostly because Renee had little time to dust, mop, and vacuum. Their household was more akin to Laurie and Stanford’s than the Snyders or Canfields. And it wasn’t merely childlessness that set the Aherns apart, Sam allowed.

Sam wondered if Renee was speaking about this with Marek. Then Sam pondered if Renee had gone to meet with the pastor. Last week she nearly hadn’t, which hadn’t surprised Sam, yet he’d been dismayed to hear about Mrs. Harmon’s tirade. Renee had made clear that woman’s disdain for Marek, which Renee believed was based solely upon Marek’s nationality. That had bothered Sam, but people were prejudiced, and he’d been no better than Mrs. Harmon a year ago, learning about those New Yorkers. Until then, Sam had thought he was a fairly accepting person; he’d witnessed plenty of bigots in the army and had always thought himself above those hypocrites. But no one was free of assuming biases, it was human nature. How many people laughed behind his and Renee’s backs, plenty Sam was certain. They might take Sam’s time overseas into account, if they knew. And if they knew that, they also might understand the Aherns’ childless home. However, they would probably think it odd a Catholic couple hadn’t sought out other means to make a family. Then Sam sighed. No one truly understood a person until they had walked in that man’s shoes.

Fifteen minutes later, spaghetti simmered on the stove, the table was set, bread sliced. Butter waited on the counter alongside the parmesan cheese; Sam would place those items between his and Renee’s plates when he heard the front door rattle. His stomach still rumbled, but he’d been busy that day, not only speaking on the telephone, but fixing custard and cleaning house. He glanced at the clock; it was almost six, Renee would be home any moment. They would eat, then he’d tell her about Stanford’s mother. Depending on her reaction, maybe they would cuddle on the sofa. They hadn’t made love since…. He sighed, it had been a good number of weeks. She’d been so upset and he felt guilty. If he hadn’t been so afraid, their home life would be more like everyone else’s. But now Sam wasn’t sure if Renee would change her mind. He didn’t expect her to accompany him to Jane’s party on Saturday, although he wasn’t looking forward to going alone. He wouldn’t have to make an excuse, well, only to the kids. Fran and Louie knew, or Sam assumed they were smart enough to get the gist. Marek obviously needed no explanation and those were the only invited guests. Suddenly Sam was glad for the New Yorkers’ absences. The reason was unfortunate, but at least he wouldn’t have to lie to them.

As Renee opened the front door, Sam put the butter and cheese on the table. Then he cleared his throat, walking into the living room. “Hey honey, how was your day?”

Sam glanced in his wife’s direction, not finding tears on her face, nor were her eyes red. But she didn’t look calm and he took her coat and purse, placing them on the nearest chair. “Renee, you okay?”

She nodded hesitantly. “I’m hungry. Time to eat?”

“It sure is.” Sam smiled, then led her into the kitchen. She sat at the table while he spooned pasta and sauce onto her plate, setting it in front of her. Then he dished up his own portion and sat beside her in their usual seats. He had a few bites, glancing at her in between them. Renee ate with gusto, which pleased Sam. But she still looked troubled.

It was her eyes, for she wouldn’t meet his gaze. She seemed turned away from him, but Sam didn’t pepper her with questions. He had much to tell her when she was finished.

It didn’t take them long to clear their plates. Renee even had seconds, which led Sam to having a bit more. Which also was a relief, for her appetite had been slight, even after talking to Marek last week. Then she inquired about dessert, to which Sam smiled. “Made some custard today. No pie to go with it, but….”

He wanted to slap himself, but Renee seemed to take no offense. “Pie always goes well with custard,” she smiled. Then her grin faded. “Sam, there’s something I need to tell you.”

He nodded, wondering if maybe Marek had shared the news about Stanford’s mother. “Well, there’s something I need to tell you too.”

“What?” she asked.

He sighed. “Laurie called Eric today. Stanford’s mom passed away last night.”

“Oh no, really?”

Sam nodded, then embraced her. “Yeah, but it sounds like she went peacefully. They were all there, well, all but one of Stanford’s brother-in-law’s. I don’t know when the funeral’s gonna be, but if you wanna send a card….”

Renee pulled away. “Oh, I will. Um, to Michael.” Then she gazed at Sam. “Do you think I should send one to Stanford and Laurie too?”

Sam couldn’t hide his small grin. “Well, I was wondering the same. Was gonna leave it up to you.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Hmmm, I probably should. At least for, well….” Now Renee wore a little smile. “For Laurie, but that sounds horrible. For both of them.”

“Yeah, I agree.” Sam took a deep breath. Those men were as committed to each other as Sam was to his wife. And they’d been together longer, since 1946, whereas Sam didn’t meet Renee until 1947. For over fifteen years Stanford and Laurie had been…. Sam flinched; there was no proper word, for they weren’t married and any other term was more than Sam could ponder. Yet, the essence of that duo’s relationship was identical to what Sam shared with Renee and what Eric had with Lynne. “Eric said that Laurie sounded okay, but then it was Stanford’s mom.”

“They’re probably relieved it’s over, or that part of it’s over.” Renee grasped Sam’s hands. “Sometimes death’s not as awful as people think.”

Sam nodded, but he wasn’t as certain as his wife. All the deaths Sam had witnessed were without purpose, and that included Frannie’s babies. But Sam didn’t dwell on that. Renee hadn’t known about Stanford’s mother, she had something else to tell him. “So, what were you gonna say?” he asked gently.

Renee gazed at him, but her eyes were odd, not the hue, still that gray-white which would always make Sam weak in the knees. Since 1947, he’d been in love with this woman; he had been twenty, she was nineteen. They had been each other’s first and God willing would be each other’s only. Children weren’t meant to be part of it and Sam inhaled that notion with more calm than ever in his life. Some couples didn’t procreate, whether it was due to injury or biology. But Sam wouldn’t hesitate to bet that for as much as he loved Renee, Laurie loved Stanford. And Stanford loved his…. Better half, Sam decided, then smiled. Sometimes he called Renee his better half, so of course Stanford could be Laurie’s better half, or rather his other half. Of the New Yorkers, Sam felt Laurie was the nicer person.

“Renee, you can tell me anything.” Now Sam gripped her hands, which trembled. “Honey, I love you. Unless it’s something you think needs to stay between you and the pastor.” Sam said that with some hesitancy. No other man had ever come between himself and Renee. But therapy was to help Renee; Sam had no problem using that word in connection with Pastor Jaworski. Renee needed therapy just like the vets did.

No one could gauge a person’s need for mental health care other than a qualified doctor or someone equally trained in such a field. And after all these years, Sam permitted he was that capable. Yet it hurt, realizing his wife was in need of assistance he couldn’t provide, but better for her to seek help than end up a wreck. Pastor Jaworski wasn’t a psychiatrist; he wasn’t even a certified therapist. But he was a man of faith and he’d seen how many atrocities. That was Sam’s criteria and Marek filled in all the blanks. He was a Christian, he knew loss firsthand, and Sam trusted him. That was solely a gut reaction, but Sam had deep faith in his gut. Whatever Renee needed to tell him, Sam wouldn’t turn away.

He stroked her face, then kissed her cheek. She nodded, then motioned for them to leave the kitchen. Sam helped her to stand, then led her to the sofa. They sat and she snuggled beside him. He would have encouraged her attentions, but was curious about what was on her mind. “Renee, I love you. Whenever you wanna tell me is fine.”

He wouldn’t pressure her, but didn’t want her to think he’d forgotten. Although, as she continued to cuddle, maybe this would take precedence. Sam would let Renee dictate their pace. If they happened to make love first….

It had been so long and Sam was ready. He kissed her and she responded and for several minutes they necked, which stirred such longing within Sam that if she didn’t tell him now, she’d just have to wait. He pulled away, catching his breath, then he smiled. “You wanna go to bed?”

She giggled, then spoke. “I love you so much. I don’t tell you that enough, but I really, really love you.”

“I love you too baby.” But he knew that wasn’t what she wanted to tell him.

Renee nodded, then she sighed. As she did, Sam’s libido plummeted, which didn’t surprise him. That happened occasionally, but depending on what she had to say, maybe it wouldn’t take much to revive it. Sam stroked her face, then traced around her exceptional eyes. Then he kissed her cheeks, near those eyes. Her skin was so soft, her heart was too. She could be as crusty as Stanford Taylor, at times. But underneath was a tender, precious woman that Sam would die for. He would do anything to keep Renee safe and make her happy.

The latter had only been true for the last few months. Sam swallowed that unpleasant fact, then grasped her hands, offering a quick squeeze. “Baby, what is it?”

“Marek knows. He knows about Eric.”

For a few seconds, Sam had no idea what Renee meant; was something wrong with Eric? Sam stared at his wife, trying to ascertain what Eric could be keeping from him. Then the full meaning of Renee’s statement pummeled Sam like bricks falling from the sky, hard lumps that seemed impossible to believe, yet they fell in the same manner in which Eric landed when he was changing from a bird back into a man. “He knows,” Sam mumbled. Then he shook his head. “Are you serious? How could he know?”

Eric hadn’t altered form in over a year. Sam was glad for it, but occasionally he wondered how hard the next transformation might be, and for how long it would last. Seth seemed all right and Sam used that man’s health as a yardstick. Eric’s father was dead and while so was Stanford’s mother, Sam had no concern that Eric’s dealer would need that kind of care. Renee was seeing Marek, no use for Eric to change form for her either. How in the world would Marek know unless….

Unless Eric had told him. Sam stumbled over that; why would Marek need to know? Only Sam and Renee knew and jealousy reared within Sam. It took him a moment to quell that unpleasant feeling, then several deep breaths followed. If Eric felt it necessary to reveal that detail, Sam had to respect that decision just like he’d had to accept Laurie and Stanford being together. This didn’t have a thing to do with Sam; this was about Eric and his pastor and…. “So, how’d this come up, I mean….” Sam inhaled again, letting it out as slowly as possible. “Did he just say it or….”

Renee shook her head. “No, though he did a lot of the talking. I wonder if that’s normal, I mean, when you’re at work, the vets do the talking, right?”

Sam nodded. “Sometimes I don’t say anything.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know if Polish therapists are that way.” She grinned briefly, which again made Sam wary. Then her mirth slipped away. “He asked me about the blue barn, if I missed it. I said yeah I did, but I knew others were enjoying it.” Renee took a deep breath, exhaling quickly. “He asked what I saw in it, or rather, he asked if he could ask. He’s so polite, you know. I told him I saw farm animals, pigs and chickens, and then, oh Sam, every time I think about that barn, I end up seeing poultry inside it, which now, well, it’s not a big deal anymore. But I must’ve frowned or something, because as soon as I said chickens, Marek stared at me. And I couldn’t look away from him. I know he’s just a minister, but he might as well be a priest. I never can look away from either Father Markham or Father Riley. I think Father Markham’s harder to ignore, maybe because he’s younger or….”

“Renee, how does he know?”

“Oh, well, he asked about poultry, was that due to all your cooking or was there another connotation. He’s so well spoken, I mean, his English is so good. Connotation he said, and I, well, he is just like a priest, and I couldn’t lie, I mean, I said it was due to all the hawks Eric had painted. Which is close, I mean, I assumed he’d think it was the truth. Sam, when you’re done with confession, do you feel like Father Markham knows when you’ve left something out?”

Sam nodded absently, then shook himself. “What, uh, I dunno. Renee, did Marek tell you point blank that he knows about Eric?”

“Well, not point blank. That would’ve been a little much for my first real therapy session honey.”

Her tone was back to its brassy inflection, which made Sam’s heart leap. He hadn’t heard that brazenness in ages, yet his joy was tempered; maybe Renee was taking too much on board regarding Marek. If he didn’t come out and say he knew about Eric…. “You’re right. That would be, um, a bit much.”

“Well yeah, plus Mrs. Kenny was still there, in the beginning. She’s so nice, she didn’t make me feel at all strange.”

“Good, that’s good.” Sam spoke slowly. Then he coughed. “So honey, what makes you think he knows, about Eric, I mean.”

To Sam’s shock, now Renee tenderly grasped his hands. “He told me what he sees in the barn Sam. At first, I was just embarrassed I’d brought up chickens, but then I mentioned the hawks, and he seemed placated by that. But that man’s eyes, my goodness, so much sits in his eyes. He said Eric has a great gift, not just artistically, but that he manages to convey such hope and healing in his paintings. That was why he wanted to see as much of Eric’s work as possible, why he arranged the exhibit last summer.” Then Renee grew teary. “He apologized for bringing that up, but I said no, that’s why I was there. And he smiled and said yes it was, but he didn’t want me to feel compelled to talk about things till I was ready. And Sam, when he said that, I felt ten tons lighter. The elephant in the room wasn’t there anymore, well, not until….”

She paused, making Sam squirm. “Not until what Renee?”

She sighed. “Not until he brought up Eric again. He said the first time he saw the barn, he was so taken aback he wasn’t sure how to respond. That he felt Eric had been looking into his soul as he painted it. Sam, his voice was, oh my Lord, so pained, but not in a bad way. Pained isn’t the right word. It was….”

She gazed at the boysenberry vines, then at the landscape. Then she faced her husband. “It was like why I was there, trying to deal with the most difficult part of my life. I love you Sam, I truly do. And I understand why it took you so long, I mean, to wanna….” She bit her lower lip. “To adopt. And even though it’s the last thing I want now, maybe I had to understand you. I needed to know why you didn’t wanna do that because then I can love you better, be a better wife to you. Sam, I just wanna be the best wife in the world for you.”

He didn’t search for any meaning past her words. “I love you Renee. You’re the best wife I could ever have.”

“Well, maybe one of these days.” She rolled her eyes, then sighed. “I didn’t know what to say to him, I probably sat there looking like an idiot. But he smiled, then looked at me. And this was when I knew Sam, without a doubt. He stared right at me, then said as his family was being rounded up to be killed, he was following a hawk through the forest. His mother had sent him to look for berries, but instead he spent that day, all day, following a hawk. He said he’d never seen it before, but it flew around him, settling on a low tree branch, and he’d been so drawn to it he couldn’t keep away. It nearly let him touch it, then it flew off, but not far, just to another low branch. And by the time he realized how late it was, he was so far into the woods there was no way he could go home till the next day. He fell asleep right on the ground, then woke the next morning to that hawk watching him. It led him back, not all the way, but most of the way. And when he got home, oh Sam, oh my God….”

Renee burst into tears, collapsing against her husband. She wept hard, then pulled away. Sam gave her his hankie and she blew her nose, wiping her eyes. Then she peered at Eric’s paintings, but Sam didn’t think she was admiring those on their wall. She was searching for the blue barn.

“He didn’t tell me what happened to them, thank God for that.” Renee then crossed herself, sniffling as she did so. “But he said that hawk had saved his life. The hawk and his mother, which made him go quiet. Then he looked at me, maybe he’d been looking at me the whole time. He said Eric painted that barn because he knew, he knew….”

“He knew what Renee?”

“He knew Eric knew far more about human nature than most people. I guess Eric told him about his dad, but it’s not just that Sam. Marek said a hawk had saved his life and he never expected to see that hawk again. But in Eric’s paintings, he did. Marek knows why the mice are so frightened. He knows Eric is all those hawks Sam, I know he does.”

After Renee stopped speaking, an eerie stillness permeated the room. Sam was glad to be seated; if he tried to stand, he’d be dizzy. He gazed at his wife, wondering if she had heard Marek correctly; why would he have said all that, it made no sense. Renee was there for the pastor to help her, not the other way around. Suddenly Sam felt foolish for having sent his wife to Marek; he might be a good man, a man of faith even, but he wasn’t a licensed therapist, he had no qualifications. Sam should have asked around at the hospital, though it would have compromised Renee’s privacy. But at least she would have talked with someone who could truly help her. All she had learned that day was far too much about Eric’s Polish pastor. “Honey, my goodness. That’s, uh, well….” Sam smiled, then patted her hand. “That’s plenty for one day.”

She nodded, then squeezed Sam’s hand. “I’ll see him again on Thursday at five. Not sure where we’ll go from there, but….”

“Renee, why don’t I ask for some names at the hospital? I mean, maybe our friendship with Marek clouds the issue.”

Renee shook her head. “I trust him, Sam. After what he told me he sees inside the barn, oh Sam, I trust that man with my life.”

Sam stared at her. She’d mentioned Marek told her that fact, but had she shared that detail? She’d told him plenty else, too much for Sam’s liking. When he next saw Marek, how would Sam greet him, what would they say, or not say? “Renee, maybe I missed it, but I don’t remember what you said he sees in the barn.”

Renee nodded, then stroked her husband’s hands. “Oh honey, he sees his family, all of them. He lost his entire family and, and….” Renee choked up, but calmed herself. “He was the only one left because that hawk kept him alive. It kept him away while the Nazis, while they….”

Now she broke down completely, but Sam shed tears too. Perhaps a rational person would think they had all lost their grips on reality, but despite wishing to the contrary, Sam had to agree with his wife. Inside that barn Eric had put Sam’s most precious desire, right down to the truth of Sam’s shortcomings. And for Marek, an equal treasure waited; Renee hadn’t said it, but Sam knew Marek’s family was alive and well inside that barn. They were being held for safekeeping, Sam realized, wiping tears from his eyes, until the day Marek was reunited with them.