Read Living with the hawk for Free Online

car around, making a U-turn in the middle of the block.
    â€œOhhh! Off-a-me.”
    â€œYou keep her head out that bloody window.”
    I was as gentle as I could be, but I held her head out the window till we turned onto Avord Drive, pulling up at a bungalow, the only house in the block with its front light still on. Sure enough, it was number twenty-two.
    â€œOkay. Get her the hell out.”
    She had her elbows on the doorframe now, her chin cupped in her hands. I went around to her side of the car, lifted her chin and pulled the door open.
    â€œYou think you can walk?”
    â€œFeeter tiedup.”
    â€œNo, you’re in a garbage bag.”
    â€œWha . . . ?”
    I reached for her feet and lifted them out of the car, pulled her upright. She flopped back against the doorframe.
    â€œIvan, I think I need a hand.”
    â€œNo way!” He cranked his head around toward me, but he didn’t open the door. “This was your idea, you get her up to the house.”
    I grabbed the top of the garbage bag, pulled it down, the acid smell of urine stronger now than that of vomit. When she started to lean, sliding sideways toward the trunk, I ducked under her arm, pulled it over my shoulders, wrapped my other arm around her back, and stepped away from the car. She had no choice but to come with me. Her right foot caught in the garbage bag, and I had to force the bag down with my foot, at the same time jerking her away from it. I got her started up the sidewalk then — she wasn’t as heavy as I thought she’d be, must’ve been carrying most of her own weight — and once we were moving, instinct took over, she began picking up her feet, shoving them ahead. Still, the porch light was a long way off.
    It was crazy, but with her dragging along against me, I noticed the peonies beside the front porch, and I thought, if they were still in bloom, maybe that would be enough to mask the smell, but they were shrivelled, wasted, their blossoms blown away weeks ago. They looked like old men with shrunken heads, mummified sentinels from an ancient army, left on guard beside a door where there was nothing left to defend. I felt her arm begin to slip from my shoulder.
    The door swung violently open, the peonies caught in the sudden breeze, leaning away from the door, as if something awful was coming, something they didn’t want to see.
    A big man filled the doorway, hair tousled, rumpled grey pyjama top, blue jeans, his mouth twisted in a frown. I stopped when I saw him, almost dropped the girl. He charged toward us, staring at his daughter, a low moan in the air, hers, I thought, but then I saw the way his mouth had fallen open and knew the moan was his.
    He reached for her — no, a fist, I tried to back away, but I couldn’t let her fall, it caught me high on the cheek, hard as a rock on the side of my face, sparks in my vision, but I managed to turn, swung her between us.
    â€œBastard!” The word like a cry wrenched from a pet struck by its master.
    â€œHey!” I heard a car door slam, saw Ivan, a dark hulk at the curb, wavering, my eye filled with tears. “For Christ’s sakes, he’s trying to help.”
    A sudden hand on my arm, a claw, yanking me away from her. He held her with the other hand, steadied her against his hip, kicked out at me, but I jumped back, the blow just grazing my shin. When I looked down, I saw that he was wearing brown slippers, his pyjama cuffs sticking out from underneath his jeans.
    â€œGet the hell out of here.” His voice fierce, but human now. “I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”
    I backed away, turned and ran for the car.
    Ivan jumped inside, leaned across the front seat and shoved the door open. “Shit,” he said, “I think you better get yourself a new girlfriend.”
    â€œShe’s not my girlfriend.” My eye stinging. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. “I never saw her