Twibell said. “He was a young man studying to be a botanist before the Great War. Frankly, I think he signed up to serve just so that he’d have a chance of seeing plants in France that might not grow here. But that’s just a guess.“
“Shell shock?“ Walker asked.
Miss Twibell said, “Yes, the worst kind. The silent kind. He wouldn’t even talk to his parents when he came home from the war—thin and looking ten years older than he was a year and half earlier. They were frankly embarrassed by having a grown son at home who apparently couldn’t or wouldn’t speak. They were in the habit of having parties back in those days before the Crash in ‘29, and their guests were always asking where their heroic son was.“
“How did you become involved?“
“They didn’t want to take him to Dr. Polhemus. He’s a gossip.“
“Don’t we all know that? I can’t tell you how many people he’s told about the newspaper editor’s warts.“
“He doesn’t gossip about my patients though,“ she said. “I made him swear on his mother’s grave that he’d never speak to anyone else about them. And, surprisingly, he seems to have kept his promise. Anyway, that’s why Mark’s parents brought him to me. They wanted to tell their friends that Mark had taken a job in a distant city. When, in fact, they live barely ten miles away.”
Lily was supposed to be tidying the storeroom, but now she had to do so in complete silence as she continued to listen.
“They offered to pay you to keep him here?“ Walker asked her.
“They offered. But it was a stingy offer. And in all fairness, they might not have been able to afford much more. And there were no more payments after the Crash. They must have lost their money like most people did. But I took a liking to Mark the first time I saw him, and it didn’t matter by then.
“When they brought him here, there was a flower arrangement on the table right in front of us, and he stared at it with a faint smile thewhole time the family was here,“ she went on. “I thought that slight smile was a good sign.“
“So you kept him on? How long has he been here?“
“Since I came home to take care of my mother in her final years. That was in late 1923, and the grounds hadn’t been cared for in years. It was a jungle out there. I thought if he liked flowers, he could occupy himself in the yard.“
“And that worked out?“
“Wonderfully. His parents took him to the front door to say their goodbyes, and when the door had closed, he turned to me and said, “Your yard is a mess. I’ll fix it.”
Lily almost gave herself away with a gasp of surprise.
“He really could talk?“ Walker asked.
“He can. But he doesn’t like to. He seldom comes into this room and when he does it’s only for special occasions like birthday parties for the old ladies. Then he just sits and smiles. They think he’s a mute. He spends most of his time outside. There’s a little shed on the grounds behind the pines that has heat and light. He spends most of his time out there, even in the dead of winter. And in the spring and summer, he creeps in here and sets out lovely flower arrangements. Even Miss Jones and Miss Smith haven’t figured out where they come from. I tell them it’s from a secret admirer of mine,“ she said with a girlish giggle.
“Does Mr. Farleigh still talk to you?“
“Not often. But my suite of rooms are close to his. I’ve often heard him crying in the middle of the night. Not loudly and not for long. He gets up and dresses and goes to the shed to recover. I’m allowed to talk to him, however. And when I ask him to take on some project or another, he agrees and says, ‘I’ll start it right now.’ And if I compliment him on his work, he thanks me.”
With a smile in her voice, she continued, “One time, three years ago, I asked him what we should do about a part of the backyard that was eroding, and he just said he’d take care of it. He spent the whole
“Shell shock?“ Walker asked.
Miss Twibell said, “Yes, the worst kind. The silent kind. He wouldn’t even talk to his parents when he came home from the war—thin and looking ten years older than he was a year and half earlier. They were frankly embarrassed by having a grown son at home who apparently couldn’t or wouldn’t speak. They were in the habit of having parties back in those days before the Crash in ‘29, and their guests were always asking where their heroic son was.“
“How did you become involved?“
“They didn’t want to take him to Dr. Polhemus. He’s a gossip.“
“Don’t we all know that? I can’t tell you how many people he’s told about the newspaper editor’s warts.“
“He doesn’t gossip about my patients though,“ she said. “I made him swear on his mother’s grave that he’d never speak to anyone else about them. And, surprisingly, he seems to have kept his promise. Anyway, that’s why Mark’s parents brought him to me. They wanted to tell their friends that Mark had taken a job in a distant city. When, in fact, they live barely ten miles away.”
Lily was supposed to be tidying the storeroom, but now she had to do so in complete silence as she continued to listen.
“They offered to pay you to keep him here?“ Walker asked her.
“They offered. But it was a stingy offer. And in all fairness, they might not have been able to afford much more. And there were no more payments after the Crash. They must have lost their money like most people did. But I took a liking to Mark the first time I saw him, and it didn’t matter by then.
“When they brought him here, there was a flower arrangement on the table right in front of us, and he stared at it with a faint smile thewhole time the family was here,“ she went on. “I thought that slight smile was a good sign.“
“So you kept him on? How long has he been here?“
“Since I came home to take care of my mother in her final years. That was in late 1923, and the grounds hadn’t been cared for in years. It was a jungle out there. I thought if he liked flowers, he could occupy himself in the yard.“
“And that worked out?“
“Wonderfully. His parents took him to the front door to say their goodbyes, and when the door had closed, he turned to me and said, “Your yard is a mess. I’ll fix it.”
Lily almost gave herself away with a gasp of surprise.
“He really could talk?“ Walker asked.
“He can. But he doesn’t like to. He seldom comes into this room and when he does it’s only for special occasions like birthday parties for the old ladies. Then he just sits and smiles. They think he’s a mute. He spends most of his time outside. There’s a little shed on the grounds behind the pines that has heat and light. He spends most of his time out there, even in the dead of winter. And in the spring and summer, he creeps in here and sets out lovely flower arrangements. Even Miss Jones and Miss Smith haven’t figured out where they come from. I tell them it’s from a secret admirer of mine,“ she said with a girlish giggle.
“Does Mr. Farleigh still talk to you?“
“Not often. But my suite of rooms are close to his. I’ve often heard him crying in the middle of the night. Not loudly and not for long. He gets up and dresses and goes to the shed to recover. I’m allowed to talk to him, however. And when I ask him to take on some project or another, he agrees and says, ‘I’ll start it right now.’ And if I compliment him on his work, he thanks me.”
With a smile in her voice, she continued, “One time, three years ago, I asked him what we should do about a part of the backyard that was eroding, and he just said he’d take care of it. He spent the whole
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