Two hawks stood atop a telephone poll in suburban New Jersey eating breakfast. Just another cycle in their daily routine, though today was different in one respect. The entire vibe of the world changed yesterday evening, and now, well…
The male hawk took another nip of guts, chewed, glanced at her. “You want any of this or did you suddenly go vegetarian?”
“Both of us can’t fit on top of that tree. I’ll wait.”
“Tree? It’s a pole.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Life. Function. Location. Sheesh.”
She clucked and looked away. “You don’t think this is weird?”
Another nip. Muscle this time. Still warm. “We’ve had chipmunk plenty of times.”
“Talking, I mean.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess.” The male hawk considered moving onto the adjacent wire to let her eat but saw a choice morsel. Noshing it, he shrugged his wings. “Ultimately, it might be good for us, you know? We can get to know each other better. As long as those little birds don’t start yammering. Annoying bastards never shut up as it is. They try to chat with us, I’m gonna eat’em.”
“We are getting to know each other. So, you approve of cannibalism?”
“Cannibal-? What? No. Wait. They aren’t even related to us.”
“Racist, too.”
“Who’s a–! Wait just one damn minute. We can’t joke around anymore? What are you, woke now?”
She slapped her wings against her body. “Wow. Just, wow.” She stared at him for a long uncomfortable moment. “I thought I knew you.”
“Oh, stop.”
Her gorgeous golden eyes widened. “No. You do not get to tell me what to do.”
He raised and dropped his folded wings. “We’re just talking here. Get over yourself.”
She gave him the fierce look she assumed during their hunts. “Get over myself? Who do you think–”
His brown eyes gleamed. “Gotcha! Heheheh, I knew that would work.” He moved over so she could eat.
“We’ve been able to talk less than a day and you’re using this gift to tease me?” She hopped over to the kill. “I don’t even know why we’re together!”
The male hawk sighed, turned to fly off. “I’m gonna go hunt.”
“Of course you are.”
That stopped him. “What does that mean?”
She studied their meal. “You always hide in the work instead of talking to me.”
He hopped closer, leaning down until their eyes met. “C’mon, hon, we’ve only been able to speak for a few hours! What’s this ‘instead’ business? But if you want to hear me say the words, it’s my pleasure. There’s no one else I’d rather talk to, hunt with, share kills with … nest with.”
“You are incorrigible.”
“Anything to get you going, you know that.”
“Men!” She plunged her beak into the rodent, pulled out a string of guts, chewed, swallowed. “God forgive you.”
“Ah, the Great Winged Creator. I like that hawk’s style.”
“You’re religious?” She nipped at some muscle. Delicious.
“Privately spiritual. I don’t broadcast my faith or get into the politics of it.”
She eyed him. “Interesting.”
Below her hawk she noticed two humans staring up, their small boxes raised in the hawks’ direction. She whispered. “Uh, honey, I think those humans can hear us.”
The male hawk glanced quickly, then leaned close to his mate. “Let’s have some fun.”
“Here? I am not an exhibitionist.”
The male hawk spoke loudly. “Let’s get dessert, hon. Human eye is delicious. Today on the menu - brown AND blue!”
She clucked a chuckle. “There they go, running back into their weird nests.”
The male hawk nodded. “Love it.” He turned to her. “Speaking of nests…”
“You animal!” She turned her head bashfully. “Okay, but after breakfast.”