Powerless

I can't get the image of our dead hawk out of my mind.

I say "our," but it is not like we owned it. The bird, perhaps a red-tailed hawk, just frequented the neighborhood.

I think it got electrocuted by the electric wires.

I couldn't believe how big it was, lying there on the ground right next to a telephone pole on Pine Street. It looked like someone had just tipped over a bird from a taxidermist's shop -- beautiful, powerful, unharmed -- except it was lying on its back in the grass.

What struck me most were its legs. They were so big and strong-looking, and its talons seemed huge. Now, it was just powerless, dead.

I am not dead but know too well the feeling of powerlessness.

I was playing Life with my little niece and nephew, which meant I was sitting on the floor making an effort to play and they were running around yelling. Their parents were out back working on our new house.

I saw my nephew stop running and just stare out the back door. I asked what he was looking at and he just said some guy. I thought it must be someone working on the house, but then I saw shadows moving on the deck outside the door, so I yelled "hello" and "come in." I assumed it was a friend or something. Who else comes to a back door?

My niece came to stand with her brother by now. I shouted "come in" again, but instead he asked the kids where their parents were. My niece said out back and he left. I called my sister and told her someone was headed back there, still assuming it was a friend.

Nope. It was some guy who wanted to pave the driveway. And I sat there on the floor while my little relatives told some random guy that their parents weren't there.

I thought back to my time in North Carolina. I was still walking. Not well, but I was still walking.

A guy knocked at my door one day and asked if he could have a glass of water. It was hot and he said he was waiting for someone. He might have said he just got out of prison -- I lived in a less-than-ideal spot.

I did not want him to see how poorly I walked, figured that would be bad, but I wanted him to have some water. So I invited him and told him to get it himself. He did and then left. No problem.

I'd have been powerless if he did something, but at least I just endangered me. This time my powerlessness threatened part of my family.