The Orchid Man

A Story by

Judith Jones-Ambrosini

The Orchid Man

It happened on the day that my Polish cousin Sophie and I were the only ones waiting for a train in the Moreton-in-Marsh station in rural England. We spotted an elderly gent approaching the station. He was dressed in a time worn tweed jacket a bit too large for his slight frame. His trousers were a tweak too short. He walked quickly reminding us of the white rabbit character in Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland who was always late. “I’m late I’m late for a very important date.”

 Sophie and I sat on the only bench in the empty station. We were bogged down with bulging, travel weary suitcases wedged between cumbersome backpacks and two walking sticks. Sophie wore an ankle-to-thigh leg brace.  I sported a heavy plaster of Paris cast set in a sling on my left arm. Our plan had been to spend ten days hiking from village to village in England’s lovely Cotswold district. However, Sophie had an accident shortly before embarking on the trip. We made the decision to go forward with the hike and do the best we could despite Sophie’s broken patella. Things went along swimmingly until we strolled through the village of Lower Slaughter. While stepping back from a group of pensioners exiting a bus, I stumbled, unaware of a high curb. I fell, went flying in the air and landed on my wrist. 

I was taken to the new hospital. Diagnosis - a broken wrist. At the hospital, a nurse bandaged me up in a plaster of Paris cast, gave me a soft sling for resting the cast and sent me on my merry way. This mishap further complicated our hiking adventure. However, optimism and the beauty of the Cotswolds prevailed. We surged ahead with our planned trip determined to make the best of the circumstances at hand. 

As we hobbled along, we met many concerned villagers, all of them anxious to know about my mishap … and what the new hospital was like. Apparently, the new hospital had just opened and was the main topic of conversation throughout the countryside. By sheer chance I was the first patient treated there. It was a big deal. Had I broken a leg or something that warranted an overnight stay, the curiosity would have reached fever pitch!  Still, because of our multiple injuries and our perseverance we became celebrities of a sort. Locals invited us to afternoon tea in their charming cottages. This attention added to the adventure. We continued, finding ways to travel from village to village by public transport, with kind locals and by hiring private drivers.

Now back to the elderly gent we spotted at the station.

At the sight of us he came to a sudden halt. Oh my! he said, peering through the rimless glasses that rested half way down his nose. As he observed our injuries and awkward circumstances he gasped. With concern he asked.  What happened? Oh My!

We told him a little about what led to our current condition and what was supposed to have been a rigorous hiking tour through the Cotswolds.  The elderly chap listened, smiled and nodded his head as we spoke. He seemed a bit hard of hearing. Otherwise, he appeared spry and fit, He waited for us to pause. He then began to tell us his story.

He had spent most of his life researching rare orchids in Madagascar and other exotic sounding places. He spoke about the flowers as though they were his children.  Upon retirement he sold his many acres of orchid labs and greenhouses.

 Sophie and I gave a wink to each other and nodded …. He’s The Orchid Man!

His story continued. He told us how when returned to England he settled in Blockley, a small village in the Cotswolds. Today he was taking the train to Kingham to visit his dear friend Elsbeth. He carried a large rumpled leather bag filled with gifts for her. It was her eighty-fourth birthday. Elsbeth had been a concert pianist with the London Philharmonic but now she suffered from dementia. Saddened by this, the Orchid Man bowed his head towards his chin. Tears welled in his eyes as he went on to say that even doctors could not stop this terrible condition. Sophie and I tried to comfort him. We reminded him that he was a kind and loyal friend to visit Elsbeth on her birthday. 

The Orchid Man rambled on a bit then changed the subject to talk about his life in Blockley. He told us of a good friend who was also his neighbor. He said he felt privileged to have such a friend who was a former professor at Oxford and a man of high esteem. The Orchid Man pondered for a moment. He said he wished that he had attended Oxford but thought he probably wasn’t clever enough. He told us he thinks Oxford is the best of all English cities. Its architecture, history, culture and intellectual nurturing make it grand.  He said that perhaps he had made a mistake by settling in Blockley rather than Oxford. We suggested that perhaps he would consider moving to Oxford in the future.

A loud alert whistle blew giving notice that the London bound train would be approaching momentarily. We wished this sweet chipper man well and thanked him for his conversation. He smiled and bid us good travels and speedy recovery. He then hurried off to board the train towards the back of the platform, clutching his rumpled leather case filled with birthday gifts for Elsbeth. Sophie and I boarded the front of the train with our complicated collection of baggage. We tried to settle in.    

                                                                                                                     A few stops later the conductor announced Kingham. When the train pulled out of the Kingham station we could see the Orchid Man making haste with his brisk, almost musical step, to cheer up Elsbeth on her 84^th birthday.  We were happy to have met him. Sophie and I stole glances at each other. We both had the same thought. The Orchid man had inspired us.  On our next trip to England, we would visit Oxford!