To tame a hawk you must starve it. For three days the bird sat in a cage in the barn starving while Jake lay in a hospital bed unconscious, his mouth and nose full of tubes, his skull ringed in a titanium halo designed to immobilize his neck. The O'Connor children became obsessed with visiting both of them. It was another contest. Ellie won with Jake. She would sit with him all afternoon until she fell asleep and the Ambassador carried her away. Peter and Jake were in a fierce battle where the hawk was concerned. Each tried to wake up earliest in order to go to the barn to watch the hawk, and each crowed the latest information to Leroy or the Ambassador. The hawk had moved closer to them, or had come down to the bottom of the cage, or had screamed louder than normal. The job was to approach the cage with one gauntlet outstretched and thrust a piece of raw meat between the bars. When the hawk was hungry enough, it would come and take the piece of meat. Until then, it starved in its pride.

 

A Cooper's Hawk is about the size of a large crow. It's an accipiter, the kind of predator that is built less for soaring than for steering through trees to catch its prey. The one that Chris caught stood about eighteen inches high on a driftwood branch that Leroy had fitted into a big birdcage. Its head was black on top and it's eyes an orangey yellow, almost red. Standing, the length of its body and tail made it look tall and thin. Its legs were covered in a ruff of feathers. The feet were a bright yellow and looked friendly as chicken skin right up until the long black killing-talons. Its chest was a white and brown mottle, its back and wings blue-brown and its long tail feathers bore three distinct grey horizontal bars. Whenever anyone came into the barn, the hawk began to shift from foot to foot and ruffle its wings. If anyone got close to the cage it would open its mouth, exposing a small black tongue, and scream.
For Chris and Peter, each time they extended the meat was a chance to become the hawk's master. The hawk, for his part, did not know what to think of the frequent visits, had even stopped screaming at the boys, but had not as yet deigned to take the bait. It was the fourth morning of Jake's unconsciousness and Chris woke up before Peter and Ellie and slipped out of the room quietly. He put his clothes on in the hallway and tiptoed downstairs. The Ambassador stopped him in the kitchen.

 

"Good Morning Christopher," he said. "I never knew you to rise so early."
"Morning Grandpa. I was going to check the hawk."
"The hospital called. They wanted me to come see Jacob. Why don't you come along with me?"
Chris had woken with the premonition that the hawk would take the meat from his hand and he did not want to leave the chance alone.
"Maybe we should wait for Peter and Ellie," he said.
The Ambassador smiled.
"I'm going over to the hospital now," he said. "I just thought you might want to come along with your Grandpa and see your brother."

 

The Ambassador was extremely tall and his nose and ears and the bags under his eyes were all exaggerated in size. Folded up next to the kitchen table he looked like some kind of sleepy giant with huge hands wrapped around the steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He placed his hands on his knees and pressed himself upright. Chris had a knot in his throat. He wanted to go see the hawk and he knew it was wrong. He wanted to see the hawk's red eyes and its sharp feet and watch its wings ruff up to feel the breeze. He did not want to see Jake, with his eyes close, his paling skin, and all the tubes. He did not want to see the metal halo, especially where its titanium points made pinprick scabs at Jake's temple. All of those thoughts made him feel sick and unsure. The Ambassador walked towards the door, picked up his brown faded fedora off the counter, and patted the boy on the head.

 

"Do what you want, Christopher. I won't be long."

 

The knot in Chris's throat tightened some more. He couldn't speak. He couldn't decide. He heard the door of the truck slam shot and heard the flywheel screech as the engine started. He wanted to be with the hawk and to master it, but he knew that his grandfather and brother needed him. He heard the truck begin to move. Chris ran out the screen door and climbed up into the big blue Chevy alongside the Ambassador.

Chris was very surprised to see Jake with his eyes open. The tubes were gone. The metal halo remained. The Ambassador smiled very wide when he saw his grandson awake.

 

"Well, hello Jacob," he said. "It looks like you're back with us."

 

 Jake tried to smile, his lips turned up slightly. Chris was scared of his brother, of hospitals, of sick people. The Ambassador walked over to the side of the bed and grabbed his grandson's hand. Jake's eyes closed at the touch.

 

"I brought your brother along," the Ambassador said.
"Chris," Jake said, his voice weak and hoarse.
Chris walked tentatively across the tile floor to his brother's side.
"Lean over so I can see you," Jake said.

 

Jake could not turn his head. Chris grabbed the restraining bar on the hospital bed, got on his toes, leaned over the bed, and looked straight at his brother for the first time since he'd fallen. Jake's brown eyes were soft and sad. They did not scan rapidly, fix, and pierce the way Chris remembered. Now they were like their mother's eyes, quiet, deep, and still. Chris blinked his eyes rapidly to clear them of tears. Jake's welled up too. His voice was strained and creaky but clear.

 

"How you doing lil bro?" he said.
"Fine, Jake," Chris said. "I caught a hawk for you."

On the ride home Chris was very quiet. As soon as the Ambassador parked the truck, Chris jumped out and ran up the hill to the barn. He had a bad feeling. When he got inside the barn he realized why. Leroy and Peter were there and the hawk was gorging itself on the meat in Peter's gloved hand. Peter's face beamed triumph.

 

"He's eating," Peter raid.
"No turning back now," Leroy said. "You have yourselves a hawk."

 

Chris turned around and ran back out the barn door and down the path through the cornfield to the ravine. He ran down the ravine as fast as he could, using the trees to break the line of his fall. When he got to the river and the sound of its power filled its ears he turned upstream and picked his way across the loose boulders until he came to the base of the big promontory rock that Jake perched on in the mornings. He grabbed a piece of the rock and pulled himself up and then as Jake had told him it would, he found one handhold after another until he was on top of the rock panting on his hands and knees. When he had regained his breath, he crawled to the edge of the rock and sat cross-legged like he'd seen his brother do. Tears streamed down his face. He did not know what he was supposed to feel but he closed his eyes and let the rush of the water in the big river beneath him fill his ears. He saw Jake's face in the darkness and with his eyes still closed he got to his feet. Chris tiptoed forward on the rock until he could feel the edge of it under his toes. He spread his arms out wide, tipped his head forward, and screamed.