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“Snake, where’s the hawk?” Wolf threw aside the couch cushions and tore through the cupboards.
Snake was reading a book. “I tied her foot on the fire escape so she could get some vitamin D. Look, that’s her right there.” Snake gestured to the window. All that was there was a dead potted plant. Next to the plant was a black Nintendo DS.
Wolf wrenched the window fully open and leaned halfway out. “You need to wear your glasses more often.”
Wolf scrambled out and searched the street. “Little Miss Ha-awk, where aaare you?”
Snake slithered out the window and inspected the fire escape below. “She's not down here.”
A rope suddenly swished down from the sky, brushing the top of Wolf’s head.
“What the-?” Wolf swatted the thing away. He looked up..
Hawk was on the roof of the building, the rope still tied to her ankle. “Hi, Daddy, welcome home. Was the DMV busy?”
“Little Miss Hawk, get down from there, you can’t fly.”
The hawk shrugged. “Okay.” She launched from her perch and slowly began a descent in circles around them.
Snake, beside Wolf, had dropped his jaw. “You can fly!”
Wolf clapped his head with both hands. “You can- you’re flying. Our baby’s flying!”
Snake smiled. “You see, I am good at this.”
Wolf put his arm around Snake. “Sorry I doubted you, but I still think you should wear your glasses.”
One year earlier
Mr. Snake and Little Miss Hawk crouched together behind a mailbox, outside a frozen yogurt joint. It was dusk. The hour of uncertainty.
“Okay, kid. Today, you learn how to be unseen.” Mr. Snake flicked his tongue. “You gonna share with me if you pull it off?”
Miss Hawk rustled her wings. “ When I pull it off!”
“Determination, I like it.” The python hunched lower, rearranging his body as if he were a loaded spring.
Immediately, Miss Hawk took off. There was a moment of delay before Snake could leap after her. The fluffy little hawk sped through the door as it was being held open for someone with a child in a stroller. There was barely a faint clack of her nails, she had made sure to tread lightly and swiftly. Snake hurried after, keeping low, at the baseboards.
The hawk looked up at the handle for the German chocolate cake flavor, her favorite. She outstretched her wing and was just out of reach. She glanced at the little piece of frozen yogurt still sticking out of the machine; it was so close she could almost taste it. She studied the other machines, the wall, the cash register, the exits. If her dad was doing this, he would find something to hold on to or climb. However, the tile wall was too slick. Was this taking so long that someone would notice her? Hawk broke into a sweat.
The raptor looked around, searching for Snake. It took a few moments, but she could not miss her own father- he was lined up with the pronged leg of one of the tables. He stared at her, patient. His eyes looked just to the side of her, then back into her eyes.
Hawk turned quickly. She saw the paper bowls on the counter. It was crazy but it just might work…
Miss Hawk body-slammed the wall, and the tower of bowls closest to the edge wobbled. She swiped at them with her wing, which merely fanned it. She took a deep breath and ran into the wall as if she were a hockey player- no friction, only force.
In a state of semi-conscious stupor, the young raptor felt the paper bowls rain over her. They patted her on the head as a sign of a good job. The few patrons were sleepily eating their after-dinner fro-yo, too absorbed in their own food and each other’s company to notice something they didn’t have to clean up.
Little Miss Hawk hurriedly stacked the cups on the floor. She beat her wings quickly, to gain some air before landing on her fragile ladder. It held, somehow. She teetered, looked across at the fro-yo lever. The little bird flipped one of the bowls underneath her with her claw and held it out to the machine. She pushed the lever with her wing. Frozen yogurt filled to the brim- making a satisfying swirl like in pictures. The bird turned the machine off. She turned to see if anyone was looking. No one. As a matter of fact, no one was there. Not even Dad.
The bird wobbled forward and let the paper bowls cascade into an avalanche. She rode the wave on the edge of her chocolate boat.
Once she slid up close to the door, it opened, seemingly on its own. Hawk clutched her frozen yogurt with both feet and haphazardly hovered through the doorway.
The young raptor let herself finally breathe, reeling from the adrenaline. She let go of the bowl and pushed it past the mailbox. With one final sigh, Miss Hawk leaned against the blue box, in the blue dusk.
Mr. Snake finally appeared, crawling under the mailbox and resting his back on it, next to his daughter. He curled up as much of himself as he could under the mailbox.
Miss Hawk flashed a smile. “Thanks for getting the door. But I didn’t need your help, Dad.”
“I know you didn’t, but fro-yo melts fast,” Mr. Snake said. He coughed up two metal spoons. He passed one to Hawk, who had to stand on one foot now. Miss Hawk wiped the spoon on her overalls.
The little bird held up her shining spoon. “To villainy.”
Mr. Snake smirked and held up his spoon. “To family.” They clinked spoons and Snake dug in first.
He let the bit of fro-yo melt in his mouth, contemplating. “You know, I don’t really go for chocolate. But for your victory, I’ll make an exception.”
“It’s really good though!” Miss Hawk retorted.
Snake nudged her. “I’m sure I’ll grow to like it. People’s taste buds change every five years, right?”
“I don’t think that’s true… but if you like it that’s okay and if you don’t like it, that’s okay.”
“Yeah, but I’m still gonna eat it!” Snake scooped even more fro-yo and stuffed it in his mouth.
A block away, a red light turned green and some cars zipped by. The light wind from them was still enough to cause the little hawk to list to the side. Mr. Snake quickly wrapped his tail around her and held her close.
“Hey.” Miss Hawk wriggled free. “I’m not a chick anymore.” She perched with her free claw on part of Snake. (Her talons weren’t so sharp since she walked around a lot.) She continued eating her chocolate bounty, digging in and bowing toward her spoon repetitively.
Daylight was quickly fading. Snake lowered his head so that he was level with the raptor. “You were fantastic, kid. I’m really proud of you.”
Miss Hawk was quiet, savoring the frozen yogurt, clicking her beak. A street lamp turned on. She looked down at the bowl. Half eaten, with a few larger dents on Snake’s side and smaller divots on her side. She finally spoke. “Thanks, Dad.”
Mr. Snake continued eating. Under the shelter of the mailbox, they took turns until the frozen yogurt was all gone.