The Flower by the Doorstep

Loren Logsdon

My grandfather discovered a box of old hand-written manuscripts that had been left in a drawer in his store. They were fragments of stories that had been written by an unknown author who had attempted to capture interesting and important events from Weeder’s Clump’s past. This box was passed down to my mother and finally to me. I have written a previous story about pioneer times, when bloodshed between the Indians and the settlers was narrowly averted. Unfortunately, in another event, outlined in the papers, blood was spilled in a sad romantic triangle. I will do my best to reconstruct the story from the fragmentary notes that were left.

The time of this story was around 1900. The area surrounding Weeder’s Clump was more populated then than now. Then there were three roads leading east from the town into the countryside. Now there is only one. Traces of the old roads are still faintly visible, but the farm houses and buildings that once stood along them have long since been torn down. Along one of those old roads, about a mile outside of town, stood a large hotel that was a health resort. There were mineral springs at that location, and people would come there to partake of the healing waters. All that is left now are mounds of dirt and an ancient well.

When I was a boy, I heard the story that a large catfish had been put in the well, and I tried several times to catch it with my fishing pole, but didn’t even get a nibble. I was fascinated by the place. It had a strange, almost eldritch, feeling about it. I remember one spring day, when I was hunting morel mushrooms, I came by the place and I noticed what appeared to be a stone doorstep for a house that no doubt had once stood there. Nothing else was left of the house except for one lonely reminder. Beside the stone step a single flower was blooming. When I bent down to pick it, I was overcome with an eerie feeling, a sensation that made me stop and look around. Nothing was amiss, but I decided not to linger there. And I left the flower untouched.

According to the manuscript, a couple from New York had come to the hotel for the mineral waters. Their names were Wilmer and Nellie Fairbanks. Wilmer was somewhat older than Nellie, who was, according to the description, a beautiful and charming lady. But the guests noticed that she seemed unhappy. It was no wonder because Wilmer was loud and boastful with a perpetual scowl on his face that would have turned the Medusa to pebbles. He was a man with a lot of hard bark on him. Understandably, the other guests did not want to spend time in his presence.

There was a local young man named Jacob Northern, who worked at the hotel as a gardener and handyman. He was probably the most handsome man in the county, with his wavy black hair, his dimpled chin, and his winning smile. He also had a wonderful singing voice and would sometimes entertain the guests in the evening with songs such as “Don’t You Remember Sweet Alice, Ben Bolt?” and “Barbara Allen.” He also drove the stage coach to convey the guests to town or to the river, two miles from the hotel.

One day, Jacob was helping the ladies into the coach. He took Nellie’s hand and she felt a sudden thrill. She looked at him. He looked at her. It was a case of love at first touch. Nellie blushed of course, and Jacob felt as if he had been struck by lightning. From that moment on they could not keep their eyes off each other. That night Jacob sang a very special song at the hotel:

“In the night the bright stars glittered;
In the sky the pale moon shone.
It was from Aunt Dinah’s quilting party
I was seeing Nellie home.”

Jacob and Nellie managed to have a hurried conversation, thinking that they had not aroused Wilmer’s suspicions. Nellie told Jacob how miserable she was and how she had longed for a knight in shining armor to come riding by and take her away from all this. Jacob responded that she was the angel he had been waiting for.

Jacob and Nellie agreed to meet at midnight by the caretaker’s cottage and they would make plans to run away. Nellie assured him she could slip out after Wilmer was asleep.

Shortly after midnight the hotel guests heard two shots. Upon investigation, they discovered the bodies of Nellie Fairbanks and Jacob Northern lying by the doorstep of the caretaker’s cottage. Wilmer Fairbanks disappeared and was never brought to justice.

(Dr. Logsdon is the much-loved English professor who has inspired students at Western Illinois University and Eureka College for many years. He lives in Eureka with his wife, Mary, and writes a weekly story for the Woodford County Chronicle.)