7b: The Old Folks At Home (continued)

And thus it was that, about thirty minutes later, Barry drove back into the small parking lot of Gilmer's Gardens, and he and Decker got out of the Lexus and strolled back into the garden. It only took a few moments of scanning to spot Mrs. Stone in her wheelchair, next to a rose bush.

"Mrs. Stone was out here when we first came here with her son," Decker mused to Barry. "Yet he never spotted her, or even looked for her. There aren't that many people here. You'd think he'd have noticed her."

"Not necessarily," Barry signed back. "He couldn't keep his eyes off my crotch."

"Are you serious?" Decker's jaw dropped in an exaggerated way. "I didn't see that."

"He was between us as we walked in. Trust me, I...notice these things."

Decker noticed a slight blush on Barry's cheeks as he signed, but said nothing, as by now the men had reached Mrs. Stone in her wheelchair.

Decker had Barry try to speak with the woman, to no avail. Decker then tried to sign to her directly. Her eyes seemed fixated on one of the roses; even when Decker placed himself between her and the flower, she stared as if she could see through him. On a hunch, he pulled his keychain from his pocket and opened the small Swiss Army Knife connected to it. In a flash, he had snipped the rose from the bush and placed it in Mrs. Stone's hand.

She kept her eyes on the flower for a full 60 seconds. Then, trembling, she lifted the rose to her nose, inhaled, and smiled.

And then she lifted her eyes and locked them on Decker's.

In at least a minor way, they had connected.

He made the sign for "Hi!" so she could see it, made it again, then gently took one of her hands and molded the arthritic fingers into the finger-spelt letters H and I. He made the sign again, assisted her again, and repeated. When he released her hand, she drew her fingers into the unfamiliar pattern, as if trying it out.

Barry suddenly began signing, and Decker realized that the woman's doctor, Thaddeus Martin, had again joined them. "I'm afraid it's against Gilman policy to allow people access to our patients without permission," Barry translated.

"But we have permission," Decker insisted. "You saw yourself, we were here not an hour ago with Reverend Stone."

"Actually," the doctor corrected, "Stone specifically did not give permission for you to communicate with his mother when he isn't here. Which, frankly, I thought was odd."

Decker rose to his feet. "That is odd," he agreed. "I wonder what harm he thinks I might do his mother?"

"I can't say," Martin replied.

"Well," Decker signed with a sigh, "we just had a little breakthrough. Watch." And he signed "Hi!" to Mrs. Stone, and she slowly made the sign back.

Doctor Martin stared, speechless.

"I suggest you get a therapist up here to see if Mrs. Stone can be taught sign. Lots of people can detect thunder but can't hear a normal range of sounds. She may simply be deaf."

Martin nodded. "Thank you, I will," he promised. "But I still am required to ask you to leave."

Decker nodded, patted Mrs. Stone's hand and smiled at her in farewell. She smiled back, once again making the sign; the movement dislodged her loosely-wrapped robe, causing her right sleeve to drop down, revealing a bare shoulder with a fading tattoo, holding up her nightgown. Decker instinctively restored the sleeve of her robe to its proper position; and he and Barry turned to the car, but Barry put his hand on Decker's shoulder and turned him around. The doctor was still speaking, and Barry translated.

"As you know, I can't share Mrs. Stone's medical condition with you," Martin said. "But I can suggest one thing you might wish to check out. Who do you supposed owns Gilmer's Garden?"

"Easily determined," Decker remarked. "Thanks for the hint." He reached out and shook hands, and then was surprised when Barry initiated shaking the doctor's hand as well. But he didn't say anything until they had reached the privacy of the Lexus.

"What was that about?" Decker asked.

"What?"

"Shaking hands with Doc Martin. He's one of the few Hearies we've dealt with who looked at me, not you, when I was speaking."

"It just seemed the polite thing to do," Barry said, blushing again. "After all, we now have a clue to look up, though I must say I can't imagine why the ownership of this place should matter to a competency hearing."

"We have two clues to look up," Decker corrected.

"Two? What's the other one?" Barry asked, then turned the ignition key.

"What's the mother of a television evangelist doing with a tattoo on her shoulder?"