Warren the catatonic

"Warren doesn't do well around people," Dale explained. "He doesn't respond well to commotion. We'll want to speak in low voices inside."


"I thought you said he was catatonic," Seth said.


Dale stopped. "He hasn't spoken since he turned albino," he said. "But you can sometimes read reactions in his eyes. It's subtle, but I can tell. And he responds to touch."


"If you guide him, he'll move around. If you put food to his lips and prod the corner of his mouth, he'll eat. Left to himself, he'd starve."


"Tell them about the hoeing," Tanu prompted.


"That's right," Dale said. "One evening I started him hoeing out in the garden. I put the hoe in his hands and started moving his arms. After a while he was doing it on his own. I'd had a long day, so I sat down to watch him. He kept going and going, hoeing and hoeing. I rested my eyes, leaned back against the retaining wall, and fell asleep. Next thing I know, I wake up in the dead of night, during the chill before dawn. Warren was still hoeing. He'd churned up the whole garden, and much of the yard beyond. His hands were a bloody mess. I could hardly get the gloves off."


"How terrible," Kendra said.


"Can't say I'm proud of dozing," Dale said. "But it taught me never to let him do anything unsupervised. Once you get him started at something, he just goes on and on until you stop him."



Chapter 7