While Ann and Paul settled into their new home, Stanford presided over a bidding process like none he had ever experienced. While this wasn’t as if he represented Picasso, the flurry of prospective buyers had startled not only Stanford, but his father too. Michael expressed fatherly pride and personal pleasure that one of Eric’s paintings was so sought after, as well as joy for the reason this particular canvas was being sold. Stanford was happy for those orphans, but to his slight surprise, he was more pleased for the Aherns. And when the final bid was accepted, the landscape would head to Switzerland, not to a pompous American collector who had dropped out early in the proceedings. Stanford had been thrilled when that man no longer made overtures, and if he ever saw him again, Stanford had half a mind to bring up this sale. Yet, Stanford held his glee in check; he wondered if Eric even knew about this, well, he must. Lynne surely had informed her husband about the Aherns’ good fortune, both in becoming parents, then in being made quite wealthy. However, what Eric understood about those events was far beyond Stanford’s scope.
He spoke little about it with Laurie, who had expressed his unwillingness to talk about Eric. Laurie didn’t even wish to speak about Seth, who was still in Miami, but would probably be home before the end of the year. Sometimes Stanford wondered if Laurie had been away too long; he’d returned so altered, although Stanford had a hard time qualifying exactly what about Laurie was different. His hair, of course, but Stanford liked that new style, it made Laurie look…. Not younger, but not necessarily older either. He seemed weathered, but not aged, then Stanford would find himself considering Eric’s landscape, which would soon be shipped from the West Coast, heading across the Atlantic. Better to ponder work than anything else.
Laurie was thrilled for Sam and Renee, and while he had yet to speak to them, he’d talked to Lynne, who had met the children. They had been wary, although Ann and Jane seemed to have hit it off. Lynne had remarked at how attached both kids were to their new parents, and how much those children looked like Sam and Renee. She would send Laurie a snapshot once the youngsters were feeling more comfortable around the Aherns’ extended families. The Canfields were going to be introduced in the coming week, mostly because the two youngest were the same ages as Paul and Ann. Laurie had committed those names to memory, but had yet to tell Seth about them.
Lynne hadn’t seemed to care whether or not Laurie shared this news, but he felt odd about acting as an intermediary for a wife and her husband. Seth had written to Laurie, not much more than therapy was at times difficult, but he was grateful for Eric’s presence. Thorazine was still being administered, but the dosages were smaller than before. Seth didn’t go into further details, and Laurie had already answered that note, telling his cousin he loved him, and that Laurie would see him soon.
Yet, it wouldn’t be in Florida, and if it happened before 1964 rolled around, Laurie would be happy. If it was later…. Laurie didn’t wish to think about Lynne having her baby with only Renee and maybe Fran Canfield to assist the doctor. Eric had to be home by then, an idea that made Laurie sigh out loud if he was alone, or inwardly stew if Stan or Agatha were present. Work was the only manner to distract Laurie, but he avoided long lunches, not wanting to again fall into a drunken stupor. He didn’t trust himself, especially around Agatha, who now gave him knowing looks as though he had told her everything.
Lynne hadn’t minded that Laurie had left open a door with that woman, in fact she was relieved, if that for nothing else, Agatha no longer fretted over Eric. Of course Agatha was concerned about Lynne, so was Stanford. But Stan also carried a nearly invisible burden when it came to his favorite client. Laurie and Agatha saw the weight sitting on Stan’s shoulders, but only Laurie could relieve it, late at night when the men were alone, usually in bed. Many months was still being accounted for that when they made love, Stan never exhibited any anxiety. Laurie made sure of that, but intimacy only took up so much of their time. Stan was still seeing Dr. Walsh, just once a week. Stanford never said what he and the doctor discussed, but Laurie would bet money Eric’s name never surfaced. Stanford carried the painter’s whereabouts far back in his head, yet Eric remained upon Stan’s mind, no way to erase him.
On Monday morning, Laurie rose early, leaving Stan still sleeping. Agatha wasn’t due for over an hour, but Laurie would wait for her coffee. He wandered around the apartment, occasionally staring out at the still quiet city, though traffic hummed below him, autumn apparent in falling leaves and the lessening daylight. He’d missed an entire New York summer, yet Laurie felt like he’d spent those months on Mars for all he had learned, and how much had changed here at home. It seemed that other than lovemaking, Laurie couldn’t properly communicate with Stan, even if their conversations still flowed.
They talked about work; their clients and art in general. They spoke about how good it was Laurie was back, and they discussed current events, that church bombing in Birmingham alongside the Partial Nuclear Test Ban Treaty which had just been ratified by the Senate. A terrible hurricane had just hit Cuba, several thousand people killed. Yet all of those events, while striking, didn’t capture Laurie’s interest. It was hard to juxtapose them with what he had discovered in the Kerr Hospital, what he was still keeping from Stan.
Maybe Lynne had been right, Laurie mused, going into the kitchen as if Agatha was making the morning brew. The room was dark, the healing scent of her coffee absent. Laurie sat at the table, trying to reconcile the two sides of his life, knowledge that was far too much for one man to accept alone. Was that why Eric had told Lynne, not long after they had started dating; he hadn’t wished to carry that burden by himself. Laurie tried to imagine what Lynne must have thought, but he shook his head, too many factors complicating the idea. Then he laughed at himself; he felt aged. To conjure what a nineteen or twenty-year-old must have assumed seemed just as ridiculous as attempting to put into rational context that very unreal fact. Then Laurie considered Seth, about that same age when he’d enlisted. Youth was wasted on the young, Laurie sighed. Then he considered those orphans.
By the time he met them, they would be used to life in the Ahern household. Sam and Renee might still be adjusting, and not only to parenthood. Renee would become a full-time mother, and while Lynne seemed happy in that role, might Renee feel differently? Then Laurie shook his head; who was he to wonder about more than coffee in another hour? He had to set Florida, and Eric, aside. Then Laurie permitted a smile; he hadn’t included Seth in that, or not as the main focus. For how long had his cousin invaded Laurie’s mind, or more rightly, his worries? But it would do Eric no good for Laurie to lose sleep over him, and as for Stanford…. If Stan mentioned the Snyders, Laurie would smile, concentrating on Lynne, Jane, and the baby. He had to treat Eric as if he was…. Then Laurie shivered. Seth wouldn’t be in Miami forever. Maybe Eric would be home even before Seth stepped off a plane. And when Laurie next saw that painter, a new baby would be the emphasis, not a man who had turned into….
Laurie stood, feeling his age in aching knees. That was new, perhaps he needed to take in more exercise. Instead of using the elevator this week, he’d try the stairs. If he lost a couple of pounds, so what? Forty wasn’t too many years away, half of his life already over. The first half had been a mix of good and bad. What might the second half entail?
As that passed through his mind, Laurie heard footsteps approach. Stan opened the kitchen door, then flipped on the light. “You okay?” Stanford asked, clearing his throat. “Laurie?”
“Couldn’t sleep. I didn’t wanna wake you.” Laurie stood, then smiled. Stanford wore his robe and slippers, but graying chest hairs emerged at the base of Stan’s throat. “You’re gonna catch your death in nothing but your dressing gown.”
Stanford clucked, for Laurie’s tone teased. Then Stanford gripped Laurie’s hand. “Come back to bed. It’s early still.”
Laurie nodded, hearing a need in Stan’s voice. If they made love, Laurie wouldn’t have to think about anything but this man. They lef
t the kitchen still holding hands. In reaching their bedroom door, Stan tried to speak, but Laurie placed a finger over Stan’s lips. Laurie didn’t want to consider anything; he simply wanted to forget.
That afternoon in Miami, Seth expressed similar notions to Dr. Sellers. Nightmares left Seth rattled, although the doctor felt those dreams were beneficial. Eric seemed to agree, although both accepted they weren’t the ones suffering from intense visions. Seth often woke screaming, but Eric was never far, reminding Seth that part of his life was over.
Yet, it was hard to displace those memories, the level of violence so close to the surface that Seth wondered if regaining his sanity was possible. When stirring in the middle of the night, he was certain this was Korea, his rifle was missing, and he was a dead duck. It was what he deserved, he told the doctor, his past actions so inhumane. Why was killing men permitted in combat, then pronounced illegal in civilized society?
What was the difference, Seth asked over and over, but Edwin Sellers gave no indication that Seth’s query was a step backwards. There would be many awkward moments as Seth made gains, and sometimes the doctor felt he wasn’t merely addressing his patient’s concerns. That hawk seemed as attentive as ever, and Edwin had decided that perhaps Seth and his cousin were right. That bird possessed human traits, or maybe the doctor was himself a bit touched. He remarked upon that to Seth, making his patient snicker. “If you’re crazy, what happens now?”
“I don’t know.” Dr. Sellers smiled. “But as I told your cousin, as long as no harm is done, I’ll accept most possibilities.”
Seth nodded, then shook his head. “I feel bad for his wife.” Then Seth sighed. “How many have to suffer?” He walked toward the window, placing his hands on the panes. Eric waited in the courtyard, but Seth wasn’t sure if he’d heard him. He usually didn’t mention Lynne, that seemed cruel. But Seth had felt unsettled for days. Then he faced the doctor. “Maybe you need to increase my Thorazine.”
“I’d rather not. I know you’re anxious, but I’d like to ascertain if we can move past this hurdle without medication.”
“But hawks are acceptable?”
Now Dr. Sellers chuckled, stepping to where Seth stood. “Can you tell me what you see out there?”
“Well, it’s a bird, but it’s also….”
“No Seth. I mean past Eric.”
“There’s concrete, it’s pretty bleak. Why in the world someone would design a space but no access to it is beyond me.”
“There’s a tree,” the doctor said softly.
Seth peered out the window. “Lizards too. Eric likes them, says they’re better than squirrels.”
“Has Eric ever had to kill to protect himself?”
“No, but….” Seth looked at the doctor. “I’ve told you about the barn, you know why he painted the barn.”
“I do. He painted it after attacking the falcon.”
“He only did that because it attacked him first.”
The doctor nodded. “After he painted the barn, did he continue painting hawks?”
“I guess, I mean….” Seth sighed. “I didn’t really pay attention to his other pieces. He painted portraits of his wife, some were disguised as landscapes, then actual nudes. He also painted a portrait of his pastor with Eric’s….” Now Seth shivered. He motioned for the doctor to follow him, and both men walked to the other side of the room. “Of his daughter. Jane was just a few months old then.”
Dr. Sellers nodded. “But he eventually stopped painting hawks altogether, correct?”
“Yeah.” Seth stared at the doctor. “What’re you getting at?”
“What do you think the hawks meant to Eric? Were they facets of his transformations or….”
Seth hadn’t considered that, and he looked back to the window. “I just assumed that’s what they were, he’s been changing since he was a kid, so there were plenty of hawks for him to excise.”
“Do you really think he’s never killed other than to satisfy his appetite?”
“Well, not that he’s told me.” Seth crossed his arms over his chest. “His father abused him and he beat Eric’s mother too. For a while Eric wasn’t sure if he wanted to be a father, even if he and Lynne could have children.”
Seth and Eric had shared much of their histories, but the doctor’s question lingered in Seth’s mind. “Maybe he killed something when he was younger, but I don’t know for certain.” Seth uncrossed his arms, then put his hands in his pockets. “I do know that for years he wanted to paint his wife, but she wouldn’t let him. Then once she did….” Eric had started with the impressionistic versions of Lynne, then she had permitted him to paint the nudes. No hawks had intruded, or none that Eric had kept. Seth walked to the window, finding the hawk stalking a lizard. Suddenly Seth didn’t want to see what happened next. He returned to where Dr. Sellers stood. “He keeps all the hawks he ever was inside the barn, but not for the same reason all the people I killed are in it, or all those from….” Seth swallowed hard. “He keeps them in there so they won’t hurt anyone.”
“Maybe he does. But was he still painting hawks when others learned about him?”
“I dunno.” Again Seth peered back to the window, then he faced Dr. Sellers. “Very few people know. For years no one but Lynne did.”
“I wonder if it’s more of a hardship now that others are aware. It’s something he can’t ignore, not that he could before, but he and his wife could pretend it wasn’t part of their life. Yet now they have a child, another on the way. And here he is, not merely separated from them, but again existing as something not human. And while the reason is indeed positive, somehow I wonder if Eric remains here to satisfy more than just the desire to assist in your recovery. You say he’s been changing all of his life, and while I assume that stemmed to escape his abusive father, why might that have still taken place once he met his wife? What purpose did it serve?”
“You’ve got me.” Seth removed his hands from his pockets, then cracked his knuckles. “I guess you’ve given us something to talk about.”
“Perhaps I have. Maybe this isn’t merely about you.”
Seth stared at his doctor. “What’re you implying?”
“Just a point for discussion.” The doctor gazed toward the window. “Much of what I want to accomplish needs to occur via dialog. For years you’ve held all of this inside, fearing what your family would think. There is no judgment here, just the search for personal truths. I’m sure that’s inspired Eric as an artist, not to mention yourself. But I do find it fascinating to consider what has spurred these alterations. And why now, at this critical juncture, Eric is so far from those he loves.”
“Are you his doctor now too?” Seth’s tone was mischievous.
“Let’s say I want to explore all avenues related to your treatment. And let me add this; what if that creature is merely a bird, no more, no less. Yet what it is to you is fully relevant and I want you to appropriate whatever meanings necessary. Your release is my ultimate goal, and I’m prepared to work in whatever manner best befits that aim.”
“Even if it means psychoanalyzing a hawk?” Seth smiled.
“Of course. Nothing can be taken for granted.”
The honesty within the doctor’s voice reminded Seth of Laurie. “But what I’ve done is so ugly. Okay, maybe Eric has killed for more than just….” Seth glanced to the window, then met the doctor’s gaze. “But he’s here to help me. He left his family and….” Seth bit his lip, but inside he trembled. “He can’t stop it any more than I could.”
“That I do believe. Yet something puzzles me.” The doctor took a deep breath. “You’ve made tremendous gains, he could fly home today. Why doesn’t he leave now?”
“He said he’d be here as long as I need him.”
“Do you still need him?”
Seth nodded, but guilt swirled within him. Then he sighed. “Maybe I’ll never be well. I just feel safe when he’s here, when he’s outside my room. It’s like he won’t let me…hurt anyone.”<
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“Especially yourself.”
“Nothing in here I could use.”
“No?”
Seth stared at his doctor. “Like what?”
“Bedsheets, the ends of the chairs, they’re not exactly smooth. We can only do so much in making these rooms safe.”
“No padded cells, huh?”
The doctor shook his head. “Seth, I don’t want to increase your meds, because believe it or not, you have come so far. And while I don’t want Eric to leave either, I do find his presence intriguing, for both of your sakes. You told me there was still something for you to do, something good. I believe you said the same to your cousin. Assuming that’s true, then we can take the next step and presume you will leave here of your own accord. And if that’s the case, why is Eric still here if his wife requires his presence? You said that Laurie told his partner that Eric admitted himself into an institution. Maybe that’s not entirely false. I can’t fathom what it must be like to endure the existence Eric has led. Thank goodness you’re my patient.”
Dr. Sellers smiled at Seth, then grasped his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. Then the doctor released Seth, noting he would stop by later that evening. Seth sat on the edge of his bed as Dr. Sellers left the room, hearing that familiar click. But instead of reassuring, the sound was ominous, but not merely on Seth’s behalf. He gazed at the window, wondering if Eric was still in the courtyard, and if so, how many of the doctor’s comments had been noted.
Chapter 146
The Hawk: Part Eight Page 10