Taking a deep breath, Dr. Edwin Sellers patted Seth’s shoulder. The session had been a mostly silent affair, for since being moved to the Kerr Mental Hospital, Seth had lapsed into what to the staff were merely steps away from the end. Dr. Sellers had told Seth’s cousin that they could keep Seth alive, but that kind of life wasn’t equitable to what it should be. Laurie had seemed particularly pained, as had a woman who had visited Seth shortly after his arrival. Dr. Sellers had also spoken with her, a German concentration camp survivor. He’d been relieved that she seemed to assume no responsibility for Seth’s deteriorating mental health, but she had given the doctor her address, asking to be kept abreast of Seth’s condition. The doctor had noticed that she didn’t live in Miami; she was going home to Israel, and he had promised to write when there was something new to share.
As Dr. Sellers exited the room, he didn’t look back at the relatively young man who stared out the window as though waiting for someone to appear. Dr. Sellers had met with Seth before he’d been transferred to this facility, and had been encouraged by Seth’s demeanor, which was that of someone willing to try. But since the Fourth of July, Seth’s mood had plummeted to the point that the doctor and his colleagues were considering initiating electro shock therapy. All of Seth’s medical records had been delivered, and while the Gordon family had expressed their extreme reservations toward resumption of that treatment, Dr. Sellers had few alternatives. Seth’s wounds were improving, but not until they were fully healed would shock treatments be administered. Dr. Sellers stepped into his office, shaking his head as he did so. He couldn’t help but contrast this man with that German woman. Over the last twenty years Dr. Sellers had met only a few Holocaust victims; each of them possessed an incredible fortitude that was occasionally bordered by distress. Norah Wasserman had been that sort, but how much of her sorrow was tied up in the man who seemed without any purpose to live?
Yet, she was going back to Israel, was probably there now, Dr. Sellers mused, as he wrote notes in Seth’s file. The doctor had gently prodded his latest patient, but Seth had little to say, merely staring out the window. Dr. Sellers had asked who or what Seth was hoping to see, and all Seth had muttered was something about a hawk. Edwin Sellers had lived in Florida for much of his life, and had seen few birds of prey. He highly doubted that Seth had encountered any back in Brooklyn, although perhaps during his stay in Vermont a few might have appeared. Or in Minneapolis, then the doctor sighed. Shock therapy had previously lifted Seth’s malaise, but while Norah Wasserman had been the trigger this time around, until Seth could speak about why, the doctor’s hands were tied.
Those thoughts were scribbled down, then Dr. Sellers placed Seth’s file in his outbox. The doctor leaned back in his chair, lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. From all that Seth’s cousin had relayed, The Holocaust was the root of Seth’s problem, his tour in Korea having exacerbated those troubles. Dr. Seller pondered those elements, but no clear connection appeared. Seth had been a teenager during World War II, and according to Laurie, also a prolific and gifted artist for such a young age. Now he was heavily medicated, waiting for a hawk. Seth had spoken so little since being transferred that even though he’d only mentioned the hawk a few times, Dr. Sellers had appropriated significance to it.
But what did a hawk have to do with…. Dr. Sellers sighed, stubbed out the butt in an ashtray, then stood, heading out of his office. Other patients waited, and he would visit Seth again later in the day. Maybe, Dr. Sellers smiled, whatever Seth attached to the hawk might emerge, if not the hawk Seth awaited.
When Laurie arrived, Seth was still gazing out of the window. Laurie came every day, which at first Seth had appreciated. Now he barely noticed his cousin’s presence, other than daily Laurie drove to this hospital. Aunt Sheila and Uncle Mickey had tagged along on one of Laurie’s first visits, but seemed to have the good sense not to bother with another social call. Seth had anticipated them, but when Norah stepped into his room, he’d been astounded. He’d assumed she had already left, not that he had asked Laurie, but in that the few times they had spoken, Norah had mentioned her stay in Miami was temporary. When she sat beside him, probably sometime last week, Seth had kept his eyes from her. He was already lamenting his words to Laurie about Eric, hoping that man had stayed in the west, remaining as a human being. Even before Norah’s visit, Seth had started dreaming of Korea, and now every night he was back on Asian soil, a gun gripped tightly, but not for self-protection. Seth had one firm purpose for that weapon and the awful guilt attached to that resolve was now suffocating him.
The only thing Seth could do was keep watch for the hawk. If it appeared, Seth would take whatever measures were necessary to end his life. And if the hawk didn’t come…. Then what remained of Seth would slowly die within this room, so either way, Seth was finished. It wasn’t fair that Seth had sought Eric’s presence, it wasn’t right that Laurie was far away from Stanford. It wasn’t just that Norah had tried to put into Seth a semblance of…. Even Norah had tried to offer solace, clasping his hands within hers, tenderly stroking his face as if he was the victim. But it was useless, for after inquiring about Eric, the dreams had returned, dreams that Seth had suffered from for years. For a time the blue barn had relieved those terrible nightmares, then shock therapy had alleviated them significantly. But ultimately Seth couldn’t forget them, righteous anger having built into cold-blooded revenge regardless of rational explanation or artistic talent, his or anyone else’s.
That same churning cauldron now bubbled in Seth’s gut, but he ignored the pain as Laurie pulled up a chair next to him. “Hey, how are you?” Laurie’s tone was soft but chipper. He sat down, but didn’t reach for Seth’s left hand. “Another hot one out there,” Laurie continued. “I can’t fathom how Uncle Mickey stays in this god-forsaken state.” Then Laurie chuckled. “Give me New York any day.”
Seth didn’t respond with words or even a nod. As each day passed, Laurie’s chatter became more innocuous. Gone were his plaintive tone and earnest declarations. Perhaps Laurie was distancing himself, yet he hadn’t talked of going home, making Seth wonder for how long was his cousin going to stay, until Seth died maybe? But then Laurie had insisted that it would be he to go first, before he let Seth…. But it wasn’t up to Laurie when or how Seth died. Seth might be three years Laurie’s junior, but the lives they lived had long ago stopped being equitable. Seth was far past Laurie in age; hatred ate up a man’s soul, Seth knew. Some days he felt as old as Methuselah.
But why, he then wondered, a flicker of curiosity wafting through his mind as a bevy of small birds pecked along the ground just past the glass panes through which Seth couldn’t stop staring. Why did he feel so…accountable, responsible, answerable, yet those were all the same words, so many words and so few solutions other than a final solution, and Seth cracked a smile as Laurie prattled on. One idiot’s final solution had spurred Seth into action, but for what reason other than simply more nonsense. And if all he could proffer as an excuse for his vile exploits was nonsense, then how could he even be permitted to take another breath? How had Norah allowed him to make love to her, even after he told her why he’d enlisted, or maybe she hadn’t been listening. How could Eric allow Seth to view that blue barn what with so much blood dripping from Seth’s hands?
And where was that hawk? Had Eric truly changed form; Laurie hadn’t mentioned any such notion, but then if Eric was on his way east, Laurie would have no idea. Eric’s wife probably hadn’t given him a heads-up and contemptuous mirth flirted along the edges of Seth’s thoughts. Why not drag one more through the mire of Seth’s tattered gray matter, who would care if another human being was tarnished by such unpleasantness. Then Seth shivered, ruing his survival. If Aunt Sheila and Uncle Mickey had been delayed just a little longer that one night, all of this would be over.
Seth took a deep breath, then gazed at Laurie. That man’s eyes were wide and beseeching, but Seth willed back the desire to reach for his cousin’s hand. Instead he cl
eared his throat, then spoke. “I don’t want you here anymore. There’s nothing else you can do for me.”
“I don’t believe that.” Laurie’s voice was flat. Then he blinked. His lips trembled and he stared at the floor. Seth knew that when Laurie looked up again, those green eyes would be misty. But that could no longer matter. Seth had caused enough mayhem; all of this had to end.
He was no better than those who had applied Norah’s tattoo, not deserving of such misguided devotion. “Get out Laurie. I don’t need you anymore.”
No longer was Seth the younger cousin; he didn’t require Laurie’s protection, or his love. He only needed a sharp instrument, a handful of pills, or a stout piece of rope. Seth inhaled, then exhaled. He wanted Laurie back in the bosom of their family when the call came, Stanford as near as possible. Then, after time, Laurie would be fine. “There’s nothing you can do now,” Seth added, his voice carrying an air of authority. “If you stay here, it’ll only hurt more.”
Now Laurie wept, but Seth wasn’t moved. This was as necessary as all those Seth had killed in Asia, for no other intention than that was all life was about. Men were born, then they died for no rhyme or reason except to satisfy the hunger for destruction. The base of humanity was as primal an instinct as what drove animals to kill, even if one’s belly was full. Why else did war still exist, why devise such fanciful manners in which to consume a nation of people, why else did Seth join the army with one goal in mind; to shoot as many Koreans as came within his firing range. Not that one drop of their spilled blood would begin to atone, but it was what men did to other men, to other human beings. They killed one another simply for the thrill of….
A piercing squawk halted Seth’s thoughts, also silencing Laurie’s cries. Both men glanced at the window, finding a large hawk staring at them. “Jesus Christ,” Laurie exclaimed, getting to his feet, rushing to the window. But Seth was frozen in his chair, unable to look away, although his eyes burned from the bird’s fierce gaze.
Laurie stood at the window. “Seth, come see. It’s a hawk, my God, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. And I swear it’s looking right at me, at us.”
Seth shook his head, wringing his hands. The bird squawked again, making Seth tremble. “Make it go away,” he croaked. “Make it leave.”
But Laurie remained still. “C’mere, you gotta see this. It looks like something outta one of Eric’s paintings.”
“No, I don’t wanna, I can’t, I….” Seth wanted to flee, but there was nowhere to go. “Make him leave Laurie, I can’t do this, I can’t….”
“Make who leave? It’s just a bird. But come see, it’s just like….”
Laurie turned around, but Seth no longer sat in the chair. He was at the door, trying to turn the knob, yet it was locked from the outside. Laurie’s visits were monitored every twenty minutes, otherwise there was no way for him to exit the room. Dr. Sellers used a key, like the rest of the staff. But patients were confined to these premises and as Seth unsuccessfully banged on the door, for the first time he understood what Norah might have felt during her incarceration. Then Seth turned to face Laurie, who remained near the window. Seth was caught up in a most bizarre phenomenon, as that large bird could still be seen. Slowly Laurie approached Seth. “Give me your hand, it won’t bite. Just come see it, please?”
Seth shook his head. “I can’t. He shouldn’t have come here.”
“Who?” Laurie asked.
The squawk reverberated as though the window was wide open. Seth was temporarily comforted by the bird’s insistence, for that’s what it was. Eric didn’t want Laurie aware and in that moment Seth agreed. He also had to view what was making all that racket, and sure enough, as Laurie led Seth to the window, there stood a rather majestic hawk, peering at both men. Seth’s heart pounded, making his entire chest ache. “You did it,” he murmured. “You actually did it.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Laurie said softly. “But my God, isn’t it unreal? It really is just like from one of Eric’s paintings.”
Placing his hands along the panes, Seth peered through bars attached on the outside of the building. There was no escape, Seth knew, but unless he requested to be allowed outside, this was as close as the hawk could get to him. And what could this hawk accomplish from the outside? Not much, Seth snorted.
The hawk looked to the left, as if refuting Seth’s idea. Then it took some hopping steps backwards. Again its gaze was fixed on those standing at the window, making Seth tremble. It was like looking into the face of a man he’d just killed, eyes wide but alien. That bird was Eric, but his eyes weren’t human. Seth inhaled sharply; what was one bird in the face of all the havoc Seth had wrought?
Laurie’s strong grip on Seth’s hand caused Seth to choke. Then Laurie slapped Seth’s back as the hawk added another startling cry. Seth bent over, steadying himself by placing his hands on his legs. “Tell me when he’s gone,” Seth muttered, trying to catch his breath.
“When who’s gone?” Laurie asked.
Seth stood up, then pointed at the window. “That goddamn hawk, that’s who!”
But as the cousins looked out, there was nothing to be seen but gray cement and blue sky. Seth rushed to the window, banging his hands against the safety glass. “And don’t come back, you hear me? Just stay the hell away from me! Go back home, you goddamn animal, just go away!”
Chapter 122