Contents of suitcase
Portland, Oregon. On an October evening, Tom Garrett carried his wife Linda’s suitcase through the front door after she returned from visiting her mother-in-law. Linda was in the shower, so he opened the suitcase to sort through her belongings. Something touched her under her clothes, and when she took them out, she found that they were old brown leather shoes. They were obviously not Tom’s, and when she checked the size, she found that they were twenty-four centimeters. Tom is 27 centimeters. The strange shoes were in his wife’s luggage. Whose shoes were these?
Size Difference
Tom carefully examined the shoes under the light. Although they were old leather shoes, they had been carefully polished and the left and right sides were aligned. The soles were quite worn, indicating that they had been carefully worn over the years. The brand was an old American manufacturer, with only a small “H.W.” written on the sole in oil-based pen. Tom thought it must be initials, and repeated those two letters several times in his mouth. There was no one named H.W. among the people he knew. Was there such a person around Linda?
Wife’s response
Linda came out of the shower and stopped at the doorway when she saw Tom holding a pair of shoes in his hand. ‘Whose shoes are these? They were in my suitcase, but they’re not mine,” Tom said, and Linda said nothing, her mouth slightly open. Tom was puzzled when Linda suddenly burst into tears, neither angry nor denying it. When he asked her to explain, she just shook her head and repeated, “I can’t tell you now. Did Linda’s words, “I can’t tell you now,” mean that she would tell him someday?
An awkward night
They spoke very little that night. Linda went into the bedroom with her shoes, while Tom continued to sit on the living room couch. Linda, who was supposed to have been in Eugene for three days visiting her mother-in-law, had returned with the shoes. That fact went through his mind. The next morning, when we faced each other over coffee, we did not engage in our usual casual conversation. Linda was staring at her cup with somewhat dazed eyes, and Tom was unable to speak to her.
Monthly outing to remember
A few days later, Tom remembered something. Linda was out alone on the second Saturday of every month. She said she was having lunch with a friend, but when he thought about it, Tom had never asked her name. He didn’t dare ask where she was going or what time she would be home. Looking back on his wife’s outings, which he had taken for granted during their ten years of marriage, he now realized that he knew nothing about them. There was no way for Tom to be sure anymore whether she was really having lunch with a friend.
Contact my wife’s friend
Tom contacted Joy, Linda’s best friend from college. Tom asked, “Do you ever have lunch with Linda on the second Saturday of every month?” Joy paused for a moment before answering, “We don’t see each other that regularly. I go out by myself about once a month,” I continued, to which Joy replied, “Where?” I asked back. Joy didn’t know either. There was no one around who knew where Linda went. So where did Linda go every month?
Examine the shoes
Tom picked up the shoe again and looked at every inch of it. The initials “H.W” on the sole. An old American-made brand. The design and construction suggested that they were made in the sixties or seventies. In other words, these are not shoes that the current generation would wear on a daily basis. They must have belonged to a very old man. When I thought of this, the outline of the story changed a little, as I had imagined a young man. But even if they were the shoes of an old man, nothing had solved the mystery as to why they were in his wife’s suitcase.
Contact Eugene
Tom called his mother-in-law. He asked, “I heard that Linda went to see you for three days. How are you?” She replied, “Three days? I only came for the first day. Where were you the other two days?” Tom could not answer. Tom could not answer, so his mother-in-law asked in a worried voice, “Is something wrong? Tom was unable to answer, so his mother-in-law asked in a worried voice, “What happened? He hung up the phone, but his destinations for two of the three days were completely blank. Where had Linda been for those two days?
Volunteer Center business card
Tom opened a drawer in his study and flipped through an old notebook that Linda had used. Tucked into one page was a business card. On the back was a small note in Linda’s handwriting. H. Walker, Second Saturdays,” matching the initials “H.W.” on those shoes. The volunteer center, the old man, the monthly outing, and the leather shoes in the suitcase. The scattered dots slowly began to connect.
Call the Center
The next day Tom called the volunteer center. He said, “I have a wife who volunteers to visit Herbert Walker, and I heard he passed away the other day.” I hadn’t actually checked yet, but I cut him off as such. The caller paused for a moment and then said, “Mr. Walker passed away last month. Was it a family member?” he answered quietly. No, I’m the husband of the volunteer’s wife,” Tom said, and the person in charge continued, “Could you please contact me once? As Tom heard those words, he wondered if there was a place where his wife had been secretly going for eleven years, why Tom had never been able to sense it.
Herbert’s Record
I went to the center and was greeted by Norma, who was in charge. ‘You must be Linda’s husband. Thank you for all your help over the years,” Norma said, and told us that Herbert Walker had died last month at the age of 87 and that Linda had been visiting him monthly for over 11 years. The records she showed me indicated that the first visit was in the spring of the year after their marriage. Norma said, “I was so grateful to Linda, especially since she didn’t have any family.” For eleven years, her husband knew nothing.
Eleven-year record of visits
Flipping through the records, I found that Linda’s visits were noted each month without fail. The only blanks were the months of birth and hospitalization; all other months were filled in. The comments section was accompanied by Herbert’s response. ‘Linda was really happy to see me today,’ ‘Linda read to me,’ ‘I played cards with Linda.’ Eleven years’ worth of words followed with each turn of the page. Could Tom really accept the fact that he had been here every month for eleven years?
Why didn’t you tell me?
Back at home, Tom turned to Linda. Linda slowly looked up when he said, “I found out about Herbert Walker.” Tom continued, “Why didn’t you tell me? Tom continued, “You haven’t told me for eleven years. Linda was silent for a moment and then said, “It was hard for me to tell you, because Mr. Herbert wasn’t the kind of man who would talk to you. What did she mean by “not the kind of relationship you talk about?”
Meet Herbert
Linda first visited Herbert in the spring of the year after their marriage. Linda said, “I happened to see a flyer for the center and thought I’d start something.” Herbert was seventy-six years old at the time, widowed, childless, and living alone in a small apartment. I was nervous at first,” Linda continued, “but when I talked to him, he was very interesting. How did Linda feel listening to an old man who had lived his life as a shoemaker in his younger years and who took deep pride in his work?
Old shoemaker
As a young man, Herbert opened a shoe workshop in Portland, where he worked for 30 years carefully making each pair of hand-sewn leather shoes. They are different from today’s ready-to-wear shoes. Herbert always said, “I can use these shoes for ten or twenty years, because I adapt them to the wearer’s feet,” Linda said. Those shoes in the suitcase were a pair that Herbert had made for his own feet when he was young. ‘Every time he came in, he would polish them and show them to me. He said it was a testament to his work,” Linda said. Why did Herbert give that shoe to Linda?
Monthly Hours
On the second Saturday of every month for eleven years, Linda visited Herbert’s room and spent two to three hours there. They read books, played cards, and listened to old stories. Linda said that Herbert told her that she was like a daughter. Herbert’s siblings had passed before him, and he had few visitors, so those times must have been precious to him. He seemed happy every time he went,” Linda said. I enjoyed going, too,” Linda said. Still, why couldn’t she tell Tom about it?
Why I couldn’t tell you.
I started out lighthearted. But the longer it went on, the harder it became to talk to you,” Linda said. You were busy. You were busy, and you came home late from work. I couldn’t tell you because I thought it would worry you. Not only that,” Linda continued, “I felt as if the time with Herbert was mine alone, and if I told anyone, it would change. Tom listened in silence. For eleven years, my wife had kept time by herself. He had never even tried to realize it.
Last visit
Last month, the day before visiting Eugene’s mother-in-law, Linda stopped in Portland to visit the facility where Herbert was staying. He was in bad shape. We were told he didn’t have long,” Linda said. Herbert, emaciated and wearing an oxygen mask, opened his eyes when Linda entered the room and said, “You came. I’m here,” Linda replied. They spent some quiet time together. Did Linda feel that this would be her last visit?
The day they gave me the shoes.
Take it,’ Herbert said, indicating that leather shoe on the bedside cabinet. I want you to take them,” Herbert said. I don’t want you to throw them away,” Linda said no. “I want you to take them with you. I don’t want them to be thrown away, so I want someone to have them,” Herbert said. Linda accepted the shoes. Thank you, for coming for eleven years,” Herbert added. How did Linda receive those words?
news of his death three days later
The night Linda returned to Portland after visiting her mother-in-law, she received a call from the center telling her that Herbert had passed away peacefully. Linda immediately took a pair of leather shoes out of her suitcase, placed the polished brown shoes on her lap, and sat there for a while, just like that. I couldn’t cry. I didn’t know if it was a good relationship to cry,” Linda later told Tom. Linda said she put the shoes in the suitcase because she didn’t know where to take them.
Tom’s Regrets
Linda said, “I thought, ‘Why did you write the divorce papers?’” Tom’s head dropped. The day after he saw the shoes, he left the divorce papers, which he had written alone in anger, in a drawer. Did you find them?” I asked, and Linda answered quietly, “I found them. She had spent eleven years protecting her wife without telling anyone, and in three days she had written divorce papers because she suspected she had done so. Tom felt the regret, for which there was no excuse, spreading from the bottom of his heart as it was.
Drawer Envelopes
Tom went to his study, took an envelope of divorce papers from a drawer, and set it on the living room table. ‘I’ll break it,’ Tom said, opening the envelope and folding it in two, then in two more. ‘I’m sorry I doubted you. I’m also sorry I didn’t try to find out for eleven years. Linda said nothing. Just kept her eyes down on the table, her eyes a little red.
Shoe Placement
A few days later, they discussed where to put Herbert’s shoes. Linda said, “He asked me to take them because he didn’t want them to be abandoned,” to which Tom replied, “Well, let’s put them at our place. Tom replied, “Well, let’s put them in our house, as long as we don’t abandon them. In the end, we decided to put them on the top shelf of the shoe box in the foyer, alongside their shoes. The old brown leather shoes stood firmly in the doorway of the Portland house. What did it mean to him to take on the testimony of the work of an old man he had never met?
Herbert’s Old Tales
Linda began to tell Tom stories about Herbert. She told him about the time when he opened his workshop, how some of his customers still cherish the shoes he made, and how his wife had died early in life and his work was his only friend. He was a good talker. He remembered the old days well and was always laughing and telling stories,” Linda said. As Tom listened, he imagined the face of an old man he had never met. For the first time in eleven years, Linda was now trying to get to know the person she had been seeing for the past eleven years.
Visit the Center
One weekend Tom and Linda visited the volunteer center. When he greeted Norma, she told him, “Before he died, Herbert was always talking about Linda’s husband. What did she say?” Tom asked. “She said he was a busy man, but that he was the reason Linda was so cheerful,” Norma replied. The old man, whom she had never met, was talking about himself. Tom had no words to reply.
New Volunteers
Norma told Linda that she had someone who could take charge after Herbert. She said that she was an 82-year-old woman, recently institutionalized, and that her family was so far away that she had hardly anyone to visit. Linda decided to start visiting the following month. Do you want to continue?” Tom asked, “Yes,” to which Linda replied, “Can I go too?” Tom said, “Can I come too? Linda looked a little surprised, but after a moment said, “You can come.
First time accompanying
On the second Saturday of the following month, Tom followed Linda out for the first time. Walking down the hallway of the facility and knocking on the door of her room, 82-year-old Agnes said, “Linda, you’re here,” with a smile on her face. Linda said, “My husband is with me today.” Agnes looked up at Tom and said, “You have a nice face. You and Linda look great together. Tom laughed. Why couldn’t Tom ever come to the place where Linda had been going alone for eleven years?
Leather shoes at the entrance
When I came home, I found Herbert’s leather shoes in the shoe box at the front door, as usual. A pair of old brown ones, twenty-four centimeters long. In my mind’s eye, I saw the face of Agnes, whom I had met for the first time today, and the image of Herbert showing Linda how he polished his shoes every month. The shoes, which she had treasured because they were “a testament to my work,” now stood in the foyer of their Portland home. I felt I understood a little better what it means to take on something that is so important to someone else.
Linda’s words
One night Tom told Linda, “Norma told me. She said that Mr. Herbert said that although he is a busy man, that is why Linda is so cheerful”. Linda was silent for a moment and then said, “I’ve never even met Mr. Herbert. That’s the kind of man he was,” Tom said, and Linda repeated, “That’s the kind of man he was.” The night outside the window was quiet, and they sat as they were for a while.
Entrance view
This spring, Tom and Linda visited Agnes on a second Saturday. On the way home, they walked together under the cherry blossoms in Portland. When we returned home and opened the front door, Herbert’s leather shoes were there as usual. Next to their shoes, an old brown pair. They don’t fit. Still, here it is. Tom took one look at the shoe and took off his own. Linda took hers off, too. The three pairs of shoes were quietly lined up in the foyer of the Portland house. *This story is fictional. All characters and events are fictitious and have no relation to real people or events. Photographs are for illustrative purposes only.
