The Silent Harp

by Gilbert, Morris

  Sharon nodded and said without much enthusiasm, “I hope so.”

  “Do you skate?” Greta asked.

  “Do you mean ice-skate? Yes, a little.”

  “Good. We play a lot of pickup hockey out on the river here. Tony’s the coach.”

  “I’ve never played hockey. I don’t think I could do that.”

  “I didn’t know how to play when I got here either,” Greta said, “but it’s great fun. I hope you’ll join us. Now if you’re finished eating, Dr. Chardoney said he would like to see you.”

  Instantly Sharon froze up. Both of her companions noticed it, but Tony said, “Tell the doctor to come join the hockey game this afternoon. It’s the only chance I get to rough him up.”

  Sharon made her way to the second floor, where she found Chardoney in his quarters. “I didn’t get to come down for breakfast,” he said, “so I had a little brought up. You don’t mind if I finish, do you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Chardoney had a plate heaped with eggs, bacon, and toast, and he ate with obvious enjoyment. Sharon was as stiff as a poker as she waited for him to finish. She had never felt very comfortable visiting Dr. Steiner. He had frightened her, even though he had always been gentle, because he insisted she discuss things that caused her much pain, and she usually refused.

  “Your father has told me about your background,” the doctor began. “Is there anything you’d like to talk about?”

  “No,” Sharon said quickly. “Not really.”

  “Well, if you do decide you’d like to talk about anything, just let me know. Now, let’s figure out what kind of work you’re going to do.”

  Sharon’s father had told her that part of the treatment was physical labor, and she told him, “I’m afraid I’m not very good at anything. I can’t even cook.”

  “I’m sure we can find something you’ll be good at. I believe in work, Sharon. I’ve done enough manual labor myself to know that it can’t hurt you. I’d like you to take the rest of this morning to walk around the camp, meeting some of the other residents and seeing the types of jobs that need to be done around here. Along with having a job to do here, I hope you’ll make friends as well. I think that’s very important too. I know you’ve come here because you need help to get your life back on track,” he said slowly and then smiled, “but it’s possible you might be able to help someone else.”

  “How can I do that?”

  “Just by being a friend to them. Open yourself up to them. That’s what friends are, people who open themselves up.”

  Sharon had doubts about this. She had deliberately shut herself off from others, and now this man was asking her to let people into her life! “I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “I think you can, and I think you should make the effort. And one other thing. I want you to allow God into your life too.”

  Sharon did not answer. Her father had told her that part of the treatment was learning to have faith in God, but she had been extremely doubtful. To Sharon, going to church and praying were rituals people followed to make themselves acceptable to God. She could not understand how such things could change anyone’s life.

  “So you see there are four components that will play a part in your treatment here: hard work, letting other people into your life, letting God into your life, and talking to me when you feel like it.”

  “It doesn’t sound like much.”

  Chardoney leaned forward and said intently, “Sharon, believe this if you can. Every patient who has done these things has been healed.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Woodchopper

  A cold blast of air struck Sharon’s face, and she pulled her coat more tightly about her. She had brought her winter clothes, but it seemed much colder here than in New York City, which was four hundred miles farther south. The sky was blue today, and the sun hung over the pristine white landscape like a rosy red wafer. The newly fallen snow crunched under her feet and was so bright it hurt her eyes. As she walked on, she smelled the acrid odor of wood burning, and from almost every cabin tendrils of gray smoke spiraled upward.

  She was pleased that Dr. Chardoney had told her to spend her first morning simply getting acquainted with her surroundings and with the people. So far she had managed to avoid most of the people except for Greta and Tony, but she had been refreshed by the snap in the air, which reddened her face and numbed her fingers, even inside the wool mittens she wore.

  She made her way down to the frozen river and started tracing its serpentine winding, following tracks in the snow that she expected were deer. Being pulled out of her old life into this one was a shock, but she could already tell that being out in the open with the snow-laden trees and seeing the hills rising in the distance with the same wintry cloak was good for her. The cold bit at her nose as she inhaled, and when she exhaled she watched her breath rise like incense toward the sky.

  The sound of barking startled her, and she turned to see a large dog bounding toward her. For a moment she froze with fear, but the dog stopped five feet away, sat down with his red tongue lolling, and regarded her curiously.

  She loved animals but was wise enough to be cautious with unfamiliar ones. “Hello, dog.”

  The dog, which she recognized as a husky from pictures she had seen, took this as an invitation. He barked sharply once, then scampered to stand in front of her, tail wagging. She put her hand out so he could sniff it, and he barked again as if in approval.

  “You’re a handsome fellow,” Sharon said, smiling. She had had a dog when she was a child, but it was a small spaniel, nothing like this one, whose muscles moved like steel springs beneath the smooth, thick coat. He had intelligent-looking brown eyes, and when she knelt down, he lifted his right paw and placed it on her knee. Woof!

  “Woof yourself,” Sharon said, taking off her mitten to stroke his fur. He sat very still while she petted him and scratched behind his ears. She finally rose. “Did you come out for a walk?” Once again she got a woof for a reply, so she smiled and said, “Come on. You can walk with me.”

  The dog wandered along beside her as she walked along the river. When her nose got too cold, she turned and headed back, but still he followed her. “I wonder who you belong to. You’re not a stray. You’re too healthy for that.”

  When she got back behind the main house, she saw a man splitting wood and asked, “Whose dog is this?”

  “He’s the doctor’s dog. His name is Rooney.”

  The speaker was a burly blond man wearing a red mackinaw coat. His hands and wrists looked strong, and he handled the ax as if the weight of it were nothing. Rooney followed her to the front of the house, and when she got to the stairs, she saw Dr. Chardoney step outside.

  “Oh, I see you’ve made a friend.” He came down the steps. “I was just going out to walk with him, but it looks like you’ve already done that.”

  “He’s a beautiful dog.”

  “Yes, he is. Do you like animals?”

  “I do, but I don’t get many opportunities to be around them.”

  “I’m a bit surprised to see Rooney following you. He doesn’t take up with everyone. You can always trust a woman that a dog likes,” he said with a grin.

  “I doubt that.”

  “Why don’t you go on inside and get warm. Lunch is nearly ready. I think it’s stew today. I hope you like that.”

  “I’m sure I will.”

  “After lunch you and I will get together and decide on some things.”

  Sharon wanted to ask, What things? but she only nodded. She paused at the door and looked back to see Rooney bounding along beside the doctor, who was running through the snow and laughing.

  She went inside and hung her coat on one of the hooks and left her boots on the large entry rug. She went into the dining room and found Tony serving the stew. She didn’t see Greta, but a middle-aged man named Frank and Helen, a woman in her late fifties or so, invited her to eat with them. As she enjoyed her stew, Frank talked about world even
ts. He was evidently a student of current events, for he seemed to know everything, and he didn’t seem to mind that the women weren’t contributing much to the conversation.

  During the meal Sharon worried about her conference with Dr. Chardoney. When she had finished her stew and Frank was between stories, Sharon excused herself and approached Dr. Chardoney, who was eating alone on the other side of the dining room. “Would you like me to wait in your office?”

  “No, sit down. We can talk here. Why don’t you get some coffee? It’s good and strong today—would float a horseshoe nail, I think.”

  “No thank you. I don’t drink coffee.”

  As Sharon took her seat, Dr. Chardoney asked her, “Have you given any thought to the type of job you’d like to do? Tony’s leaving, so you could be a server.”

  Sharon did not mind the work itself, but she had noticed that the servers, including Tony, talked a great deal. She was not ready for this kind of exposure. “Is there anything else?”

  “You could help the cook.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Sharon smiled slightly, the first smile Chardoney had seen on her face. “I’m a terrible cook. I’ve never learned.”

  “That’s all right. I’m a terrible cook myself. Let’s see. There’s always dishwashing, house cleaning, or laundry. That’s pretty tough work. That’d be my last choice.”

  Sharon immediately thought of how much she had enjoyed being outside. She would not be obliged to make conversation there. “I saw a man out back chopping wood. Could I help with that?”

  Chardoney laughed and shook his head. “That’s pretty rough work. I like it myself, but the men usually take care of that.”

  “Please, I’d like very much to try it. I know I won’t be good at it at first, but I’ll learn.”

  “There’s nothing to learn, Sharon. Chopping wood doesn’t require much intellectual activity—just muscles. But if you’d like to give it a try, that’s fine.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “You’ll have to have sturdy gloves and some warmer clothes, and you’ll have to let me know if it gets too hard so I can find you something else.”

  “Thank you, Doctor. I think I can do it.”

  ****

  Sharon had never had to work in her life. She was fairly fit physically, but chopping wood was another world. Nelson Kane, the woodchopper she had spoken to on her first day, was a big, strong man in his thirties. He simply stared at her when Dr. Chardoney told him she was to be his new partner. “You show her the ropes, Nelson, and watch out for her. We’ll have her start by working three hours a day and see how she adjusts to the physical labor.”

  Nelson hardly said ten words the first day. He showed her how to split wood with a maul, and it looked so easy that she was deceived into thinking she could do it. When she tried, she could barely lift the maul, much less hit anything. She laughed ruefully and said, “I think it’s going to take me a while to work up to this.” Later in the morning he let her help him run a two-man saw, but she knew he was doing ninety percent of the work.

  “I’ll cut the wood. You can load it,” Nelson said, which was a long speech for him. He sawed the wood off in standard lengths and split it, and she loaded it onto the trailer that was attached to a tractor. When the trailer was loaded and Nelson left to deliver it to the cabins, she insisted on staying alone and waiting for him to return.

  Actually she was not alone, for Rooney had assigned himself as a permanent companion, it seemed. He watched her carefully, and whenever she grew still he would come nudge her leg with his nose until she petted him and spoke to him.

  While Nelson was delivering the wood, she ran through the woods with Rooney and discovered he was as playful as a puppy. The two wrestled until Rooney bowled her over and then she got up and they did it all over again.

  After her first day she was so stiff she thought she’d never be able to sleep, but exhaustion quickly overtook her. The next day every muscle was sore. The work was hard, but she liked it. Chardoney was worried about her, she knew, but she told him firmly, “I like it, Doctor. Let me keep at it.”

  By the fourth day she found herself able to work for longer periods. Chardoney was afraid she was overdoing it, but Sharon found herself staying outdoors even when her work was done.

  One day Chardoney met them at the edge of the woods as they were coming in, Sharon seated on the load of wood while Nelson did the driving. Rooney was following alongside, and when she got down, he came over and sat down on her feet. She laughed and said, “Get off my feet, you big lug! You weigh a ton.”

  “He’s always liked to do that,” Chardoney said, patting the big dog and shaking his head. “I think he’s adopted you.”

  “He’s such a beautiful animal and so sweet.”

  “Not always. He can get pretty fierce at times.”

  “Really?”

  “He doesn’t like to see anyone mistreated. Once I saw him go after a man who was roughing up a boy. I think Rooney would have killed him if I hadn’t pulled him off.”

  “That’s amazing. Where did you get him?”

  “Well, there’s a little story behind that. Rooney was hit by a car when he was about a year old. The owner was afraid his injuries were too extensive and wanted to put him down, but I knew the dog, and I didn’t want to see him die so needlessly. So I took him in. I sewed him up and set his broken bones. He nearly died. I had to feed him like a baby for a time and sometimes even force-feed him. It took a long time, but you made it, didn’t you, Rooney?”

  Rooney agreed with a woof! and came over to sit down on Chardoney’s feet.

  Sharon was fascinated. “Why did you save him? Most people would have just let him die.”

  “I never like to see a good dog wasted,” Chardoney said. He looked at her strangely, Sharon thought, and then added, “Or a good young woman either.”

  Sharon straightened up. “Is it time for my treatment out here with Rooney sitting on your feet?”

  “I take my patients where I find them.”

  Sharon rather liked the approach, but she was wary. “I’ll tell you one thing, Doctor—you’re not going to make me love God no matter how hard you try.”

  “Is that right?”

  “No! Why should I love Him after what happened to me?”

  “What did happen?”

  “You know what happened.” Sharon turned and walked away, and Rooney followed her. She soon found Chardoney walking beside her, and they continued on in silence. She finally turned to the doctor with tears glistening in her eyes. “I was going to get married. Robert and I loved each other. He had a tremendous talent, Doctor. I think he could have been one of the great opera stars of our time, and he was snuffed out. God took him from me.”

  “I think the Germans had a little something to do with that.”

  Anger flared in Sharon, and she snapped bitterly, “You don’t understand what it’s like to lose someone like that!”

  Chardoney’s voice did not change. Without a hint of anger, he said calmly, “My wife and two children were burned to death in a fire.”

  Sharon stiffened. She waited for him to say more, but he stood silently.

  “We’ll talk about God when you’re ready,” he said after a few moments, his voice still calm. “I’m not going to preach to you. But I want you to find something more creative to do than chopping wood.”

  “But I like chopping wood, and I’m getting better at it every day.”

  “Everybody needs two kinds of work, Sharon. You need hard physical work, and yours, apparently, is chopping wood. No one here thought you would last at this. Me, least of all—but you have. I like that. It shows you’re tough, despite that rather beautiful outside.”

  Sharon found herself blushing at his compliment. “But what else do you want me to do?”

  “You need a hobby. Something that will challenge you creatively. Do you want to continue your singing?”

  “No!”

  Chardoney seemed to understand t
he sharpness of her reply. “All right, I won’t insist, but you’re going to have to find some creative outlet to fill up your time. I’m the doctor, and I insist.”

  “I won’t do it!” Sharon exclaimed. “I’ll go home first.”

  “Go ahead. The train leaves in the morning at seven o’clock.”

  Sharon had not expected this. She stared at Chardoney, who simply stood there. His face was peaceful, as always, but he obviously meant what he said. “All right, I will,” Sharon said. “I don’t have to stay here.”

  “No, you don’t, and I don’t want you here unless you choose to stay.”

  “I’ll leave on the train in the morning.”

  “The driver will be ready at six-fifteen to take you to the station.”

  Sharon whirled away, anger burning in her. She had not expected him to take her up on her threat, and now as she stomped off she thought belligerently, He can’t make me do anything! I’ll go home!

  She went straight to her room and began to pack her things, which didn’t take long, and then there was nothing else to do. She paced the floor and began thinking of what it would be like to go home. Somehow the thought of returning to her old routine was not very exciting. The days here had at least been different, and she found herself wanting to stay. She unpacked her bag and went to Dr. Chardoney’s office. When he opened the door after her knock, she said abruptly, “What kind of hobby?”

  Chardoney did not gloat. “Come inside. We’ll talk about it.”

  As they discussed possible ideas for a hobby, Chardoney saw that Sharon had a keen appreciation for art, but she had never had much opportunity to try it except for a little painting at her finishing school.

  “Were you any good at it?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Not great, I guess, but I didn’t try it for long.”

  Chardoney had an idea. “I see you enjoy working with your hands, Sharon. Have you ever tried working with clay?”

  “You mean sculpture? No. I’ve seen some of the great works in museums, though. But I don’t think I could ever do anything like that.”