The Heavy Hackberry

It was still dark outside. The wind was howling more than it usually did that June morning in Blighton Virgina. Michael woke up from the heat. The AC had kicked out some time in the middle of the night and he found himself drenched in a puddle of sweat. This coupled with the yellowing walls were an all too familiar scene. He would lay awake in bed for a good fifteen minutes before waking up to start his day and this morning was no exception. It wouldn’t be long before he’d hear his mom burst through the door with the same cutting speech as the day before. “You shouldn’t still be here.” followed by a cold stare. “At 28 years old, you should be out of this house, starting a family of your own. I don’t know where we went wrong with you, Michael.”

Until the words crashed into his ears, he’d watch the trees gently sway back and fourth and take in the familiar chatter from outside his window. Their words didn’t mean much. The same dull exchanges from one neighbor to the other about the latest game or talk of the weather. Besides, he was fixated on the hackberry tree directly outside of his window. Before long, the owl would soon be appearing.

Just as he began to reconcile with the notion that he had imagined it the morning before, the largest limb on the hackberry bounced from the weight of the great owl. The same barn owl he had seen so many times before. He got up quickly and headed for the stairs to relay the news. Running downstairs of the small two story house, time seemed to slow. With every step to the first floor he felt himself filling with doubt. “Was that really the owl? I wish I would have looked longer to be sure this time.” He considered that the branch may have moved so vigorously from the amount of wind this morning, or the owl-y figure could have been mistaken for something else due to the unusually dark morning.

By the time he had reached the bottom of the stairs, Michael found himself quite conflicted. He looked across the hall to see his mother and sister busy in the kitchen until their eyes finally met his. A disappointed look quickly washed over both of their faces. Devra was only 18. She had long curly hair, bright blue eyes. A younger looking version of her mother but with aspirations far beyond that of which her mother had dreamed for herself. She had plans to be a doctor and had begun the rigorous task of applying to as many nearby schools as she could afford to. She was a golden child, and he was Michael.

Upon meeting Devra’s gaze, he felt his cheeks get hot, and he swallowed all doubt in what he had seen as he entered the kitchen.

“I saw it this morning.” He said firmly. There was no need for further explanation. Devra and her mother knew exactly what he was referring to. Devra collapsed her head into her hands. His mother stared at him in disbelief. Her eyes were tired, her body frail. She opened her mouth slowly, but before she could begin, Devra spoke. It was clear how upset her mother was.

“Please show me the owl, Michael.” Devra said calmly. The three walked up to his room toward the corner window by his bed. There stood the hackberry with naked branches. Michael felt his heart sink. He knew he had seen it. At least he thought he had definitely seen it this time. His mother began to twist her wedding band quickly. She was nervous. “I’ve got to make a call.” she meekly said as she and Devra walked towards the door.

Michael left the house in a hurry. “Where are you going?” Michael’s mother asked frantically, but he did not answer. He walked aimlessly throughout the town for hours . Was he clearing his head, or searching for the owl? The questions danced delicately in and out of reality.

It was dark again by the time Michael had returned home. Alone with his thoughts again, he put in his headphones and sat on his bed replaying the events that had transpired that morning. That’s when he heard it. The screech, the distinct screech. He quickly ripped out his headphones and listened carefully. Confused, he looked out the window. No owl. The music was still blaring loudly from the headphones. “How could I have heard anything with my headphones turned up so high?” The thought scratched the surface of his mind, but he could feel any rational piece of him start to slip into submission. That’s when the pacing began.

Michael’s heart began to race as a million thoughts bounced through his brain in one single moment. He felt sheer fear inside his soul when he screamed, “I saw the owl, and I know something terrible is going to happen. Just like it happens every time I see the owl.”

Michael was so emotional, he had not noticed that Devra was now in the room with him. She brought him a glass of water and said that Dr. Moore would like to see him tomorrow. Michael didn’t like Dr. Moore. He had always questioned whether what Michael saw, heard, and felt was real or not. Michael did enough of that on his own. He started to scream again and insisted he would not be seeing Dr. Moore tomorrow. Devra’s eyes filled with tears and she left her brother’s room. His mothered entered shortly afterwards. The same bewildered look from this morning stained on her face. She told him she loved him and things will get better, and that he should think about seeing Dr. Moore tomorrow.

Even with these re-assuring words, Michael screamed until the morning until he found himself too exhausted to carry on. In his final moments before he fell asleep, he found himself at peace. He reassured himself that he had not seen an owl this morning, and the sound was due to the owl being on his mind that afternoon. He felt tomorrow would be better, and he looked forward to normal morning and even his visit with Dr. Moore.

After a brief sleep, Michael lay awake with the morning light the way he always did. He waited for his mom to come in with her same harping words.

He looked out his window and couldn’t believe his eyes. The owl was there on the tree branch.

Outside neighbors found themselves talking to one another.

“Did you hear that screaming last night?” Said one neighbor. “It’s getting worse” another chimed in. “It’s a sad story really. Almost six years since his accident. I don’t think he’ll ever come to terms with having hit that icy patch that killed his mom and sister.”

“What were they doing out in that area anyway during such a storm?”

“Bird watching.”