Skyward. Mary Monroe Alice

“You call and the eagle comes to you?”

      “That’s right. Like I said, we look out for each other. And she knows I’d brung her something good to eat. Anyway, this morning I called to her like I always do. She was banking in a nice loop, coming for me.” His expression darkened. “Then them gunshots rang out. They shot her down.” His cheeks stiffened in anguish. “What kind of man would do something like that? Why would anybody shoot such a fine creature of God?”

      “I don’t know,” he replied soberly. It was a question he’d asked himself every time he pulled pellets from a bird. “Did you happen to see who shot the bird?”

      Lijah paused while his face clouded with mixed emotions. “Yes, sir, I did. Leastways, I caught sight of two men with guns back in the woods when I went to fetch Santee. They were standing right where the sound of the gunshot came from so it was most likely them. But I didn’t approach them or ask them nothing. Things being the way they were.” He shook his head and his eyes flashed. “But it was them, most likely.”

      “You should report it to the police.”

      “I called them already. The woman let me use the phone and they came by while you was in surgery. We talked a bit, I told them what I know, then they left.”

      “Good. I hope they catch the bastards.”

      Lijah’s lips pursed in thought. “You did say you pulled buckshot out of Santee? Not a bullet?”

      “That’s right. A mother lode of it. Why?”

      “No reason. Just curious.”

      “Another thing. This eagle—” He paused and smiled briefly, conceding the name. “Santee. She has a brood patch. Did you say she had a nest somewhere near here?”

      “Yes, sir. Not too far away. They’re good parents, Santee and Pee Dee—I named ’em after the rivers. It’s the second year they bred in that nest. Had two babies last time. That’s what brings me this far north, you see. I be from St. Helena, but I been following them to check out the nest. Sometimes I camp, sometimes I stay with friends. It’s a hike, but I don’t stay long. Santee likes to nest up here. I figure it most likely be where she was born.”

      “Most likely. It’s still early in the season. She may not have laid her eggs yet.”

      “Can’t tell you that. Only just arrived myself. I been watching them, though. They been busy up there.”

      Harris weighed the lecture building in his mind about how humans needed to keep away from raptor nests so as not to disturb them, but decided against it. This man seemed pretty knowledgeable, and at the moment, he needed his help.

      “Could you show me where this nest is?”

      Lijah rubbed his jaw with his brow creased, then said with hesitation, “I suppose I could.”

      “Lijah, it’s going to be hard for that male to incubate any young that may have hatched. Damn near impossible, in fact. We’ll have to watch the nest carefully, in case he abandons it.”

      “I intend to.”

      “Maybe if we…”

      Harris’s attention was diverted by a gentle tug on his trousers. Looking down, he saw the sweet, pale face of his five-year-old daughter. Marion’s hair was pulled back into an elastic that was slipping off center. The clothes he’d seen her in that morning were now slightly soiled and a smudge of grape jelly lingered at the corner of her pouting lips.

      “Daddy?”

      His face softened at the sight of her. “Yes, baby?”

      “Are we gonna go shopping yet?” she asked in a soft whine.

      Shopping. Christmas Eve. Dusk. All these realities hit him like a bucket of cold water dumped down his back. How could he have forgotten the outing? It was always this way with him. He’d get so caught up in his work he’d lose track of time and anything else that was on his calendar.

      His daughter’s eyes were filled with childish expectation and longing and Maggie’s admonitions played again in his mind. He swung his head around to look out the window. It was only four o’clock but already the sky was dark. A few flakes floated in the dim light outside the door, but nothing to be worried about. He had to make good on his promise. If he hurried, they’d be in town and back before too late.

      “Why, sure, honey,” he replied, jostling her hair, sending the elastic flying. “Just give me a minute to close things up here.” He looked again at the old man, who had already reached out to grab his hat.

      “I best be going,” he told Harris. “It’s Christmas and looks like you’ve got an evening planned.”

      “We do. Heck of a night to hit the roads, though, isn’t it. Can I drop you somewhere?”

      “No, sir. Thank you but I’ll find my own way.”

      “But didn’t you say you walked here?”

      “I did. But don’t pay me mind. My friends live a short way down the road.”

      “But the closest house is a long walk through the woods. I insist. Let me drive you.”

      Lijah shook his head and began heading toward the door. “I been sitting here all day. My legs’ll enjoy the stretch. Thanks again for tending to my bird. I’ll stop by tomorrow, if you don’t mind. Just to see how she is.” Before leaving, he bent his snowy white head and smiled warmly at Marion. “Merry Christmas to you, little missy.”

      Marion smiled shyly and ducked behind her father’s legs.

      “We’ll talk again. I’d like to go to that nest,” Harris said.

      Lijah nodded, then left, quietly closing the door behind him.

      Harris stared after him a moment. The man left a lingering impression. With a sigh, he peeked out the window at the smattering of faint snowflakes dancing in the gray-blue afternoon. Placing his arm around his daughter’s slim shoulders, he bent close to her ear.

      “Will you look at that?” he asked. “It’s been a long time since I last saw snow for Christmas right here in South Carolina. In fact,” he said, squeezing her close, “I’ll bet this is the first time you’ve seen snow at all. Guess it’ll help ol’ Santa.”

      “You told me there’s no such thing as Santa.”

      His brows rose. “I did, huh?”

      She nodded her head.

      Even though he never encouraged belief in such things as fairies, Santa and the Easter Bunny, he believed firmly in the magic and beauty found in the wilds of nature and human nature alike. Life was full of hard realities, like people putting buckshot into an eagle for sport. And though he was dog-tired and hungry, at least for tonight he’d do what he could to keep the magic alive.

      

      Harris felt blinded by the fluorescent lights as he strolled into the Wal-Mart store with Marion in tow. There was so much stuff everywhere. Who could need so many things? Bright red bows, gold tinsel and moving Santas seemed to jump out at him from the shelves. Compared to the silence of the woods, the loud and persistent Christmas music was grating to his ears. He squeezed his daughter’s hand and fought the urge to walk faster through the aisles. Other shoppers racing through the store brushed clumsily as they passed in a buying frenzy. He couldn’t wait to get back outdoors.

      “Daddy, I’m thirsty.” Marion’s face peeked out from the hood of her pink parka, a hand-me-down from one of Maggie’s girls. It was too small; Marion’s shoulders were squeezed and the cuffs were inching up her forearms. He thought of buying her a new coat, since they were already here, then thought again. Money was tight and it wasn’t cold for that long in South Carolina. He figured this parka would make do awhile longer.

      “You had a drink