The Night Gardener

“Under other circumstances, Molly would have admired a woman who so boldly contradicted her husband. But now it only felt like some wicked joke.”

Here, Constance has just discovered Kip and Molly on her property and is displeased by the stories Molly is telling Penny. When Molly tries to explain that Mr. Windsor hired them, Constance is unmoved, arguing that she’s doing fine without help. This passage shows Molly’s reaction, and it demonstrates several key dynamics. Firstly, it introduces Constance’s subversion of the image of socially appropriate Victorian-Era women who obeyed their husbands without question. Secondly, it sets Constance up as someone Molly comes to admire, even if it takes much of the book for those feelings to blossom. Finally, the cruel joke Molly refers to is an example of irony; Molly admires Constance for her boldness even when that boldness could be the thing that keeps Molly and Kip from finding work. The joke is also cruel because Molly goes on to note how disarrayed the house is and how much Constance needs someone to take care of things.

“‘Kip, I said that to protect us. It was just a story.’

‘Was it?’ He fixed her with as hard a gaze as he could. ‘Do they count as stories when the other person thinks they’re true?’”

This conversation between Molly and Kip comes shortly after Kip’s fight with Alistair. Kip attacks Alistair because Alistair is being cruel to Penny, and Molly tells Constance Kip was only defending himself against Alistair’s attack. Kip is angry because Molly saw what happened and told Constance a lie to protect him. Molly argues that it wasn’t a lie—just a story—which raises the question of how stories and lies differ, a topic that persists throughout the rest of the book. Molly feels the story is justified because it will keep them from being fired. Kip feels the story is untrue and, thus, not justified simply because it is a lie.

“Ma and Da believed that if you suspected a monster was hiding under your bed, you should get down on your hands and knees and find out for certain. And if you were lucky enough to discover one down there—fangs dripping, eyes glowing red—you should be quick to offer him a blanket and a bowl of warm milk so he wouldn't catch a chill.”

This passage illustrates Molly’s thoughts when she becomes aware of the Night Man’s footsteps for the first time. Initially, the footsteps frighten her, and she wants to curl up under the blankets and hope that he will simply go away. However, recalling her parents’ words gives her the courage to investigate, and the contents of the memory offer a different take on the “monsters” that can terrorize people’s minds. Rather than trying to convince their children that monsters didn’t exist, Molly and Kip’s parents assured them that there are indeed monsters to face and that the word “monster” here is a metaphor for anything frightening. Furthermore, rather than advising the siblings to ignore what frightens them, their parents urged them to face it head-on and treat it with kindness so the monster wouldn’t be frightening anymore.

“She thought of how different this was from her own parents, who disagreed plenty, but always out in the open and with half smirks and teasing jabs—like a pair of actors in a play. Molly preferred the out-in-the-open way, for it meant that neither parent would ever say something they couldn't bear for their children to hear. It meant there were no secrets.”

Molly thinks this during the game of Catch as Catch Can. From the moment Mr. Windsor arrives at the manor, he and Constance exist in a nearly constant state of disagreement, neither willing to entertain the other’s perspective. As a result, there is a lot of tension in the house. Molly compares this dynamic to that of her parents, who disagreed loudly for all to hear. While this may have been uncomfortable in the moment, it meant that disputes were resolved more quickly and with less uncertainty. She prefers her parents’ arguments because they felt more honest. By contrast, Mr. Windsor and Constance try to keep their disagreements private but do so poorly, resulting in an uncomfortable vibe throughout the entire house.

“Molly walked to the mirror above her dresser and looked at herself. She had hoped that the dress might make her appear transformed, statuesque even, but it did not. The gown was loose around the bodice, and the skirt hung limp around her legs. She looked exactly as she was: a fourteen-year-old servant wearing a rich woman’s cast-off clothes.”

In this scene, Constance has gifted Molly with an old dress that no longer fits her. The giving of the dress foreshadows the differently sized rings in Constance’s possession and how the Windsors are losing their vitality as a result of the tree’s influence. This scene represents the idea that changing one’s appearance does not change the essence of the self. Molly has never owned clothing as fine as the dress, and she hopes that the fineness of the fabric will somehow make her finer, too. In reality, however, nothing about Molly changes except for her outfit. If Molly wants to see true change, she has to work toward becoming a different person, not rely on a quick external change to alter her.

“‘No!’ She jolted awake, eyes wild with terror.

‘It's just me.’ Kip knelt in front of her, taking her shoulders in his hands. ‘We’re all right, Molls.’ He tried to make his voice calm, the way his father used to when Kip got frightened by storms. ‘We fell asleep outside, but we’re all right!’”

These lines come in the chapter after Kip and Molly stay up to catch the Night Man in action. They fall asleep watching the Night Man tend to the tree and wake to Penny and Alistair standing over them. Molly is terrified the Night Man has found them, and here, Kip shows that he has the potential to be brave, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Up until this point, Molly has been the one to comfort Kip or make up stories when he’s scared. Making up stories has never helped, and here, Kip tells Molly exactly what happened in order to calm her, something Molly later learns is better than creating a falsehood to avoid the painful or frightening truth.

“‘The brother and sister cared for the princess, and they grew to love her very much. But one day...’ She took a deep breath. ‘One day, the red-haired children had to leave the house behind. And it was very sad, and they were heartbroken, but it was the way things had to be.’ She held Penny tighter. ‘And after that, every night, no matter where they were, the girl and her brother would look up at the moon, and they knew that same moon was shinin’ over the princess in her house, and it was like they were never really apart.’”

Molly tells this story to Penny after the outdoor encounter with the Night Man. Molly and Kip have decided to leave because they are afraid of the house and the Night Man, and rather than just telling Penny the truth, Molly makes up a story about Princess Penny saying goodbye to her friends. Molly does this for two reasons—because saying goodbye is too painful for her and because she wants to soften the blow to Penny. However, the story helps with neither of these. Saying goodbye is just as painful with the story as it would be to simply say goodbye, possibly more so because the story only prolongs something that is already difficult. Following this passage, Penny sees through the story and understands that Molly and Kip are leaving, which only angers her because she wants them to stay.

“‘Kip, it’s just a tree.’ Molly’s voice was sharp. ‘If you don't like it, then stay away from it. Mistress Windsor told us as much when we came here.’

He sat up. ‘You dinna think she knows somethin’, do you?’

‘Here’s what I think: if she found out you'd been sniffin’ around her tree with spades and rakes like that—you’d have a lot more than a sore finger.’ She looked flustered, as if she were trying to form words that wouldn't come together. ‘Just ‘cause the tree’s ugly don't make it evil.’” 

This passage comes when Kip tells Molly about how the tree tried to bury him alive. The chapter is told from Kip’s perspective, and so Molly’s thoughts are unknown at this point. Later, however, it becomes clear that Molly is frightened by what Kip tells her. She also doesn’t want to believe anything bad about the tree because it delivered a letter from their parents, and she wants to think that the tree knows something and is trying to help them. Molly’s flustered speech and actions are meant to cover up her own fears. The final line of this section thus represents an ironic truth. Molly is correct that ugliness doesn’t make something or someone evil. However, the line is ironic because the tree is in fact an evil force.

“The doctor raised a finger. ‘The roads are less traveled.’ Kip's embarrassment must have been plain because the doctor gave a conciliatory smile. ‘Chin up. I wouldn’t expect an Irishman to know grammar any more than I would expect a baboon to know table manners.’ He chuckled. ‘Better minds than mine have tried to civilize your species—to little effect, I might add.’”

Here, Kip meets Dr. Crouch for the first time and immediately dislikes the man, both because he seems pompous and because he is insulting. Dr. Crouch’s dialogue here represents the dominant attitude of the British toward the Irish during the Victorian Era. Within this time frame, the British considered the Irish to be below them: little more than animals. Dr. Crouch therefore thinks nothing of correcting Kip’s English or of comparing him to monkeys. The doctor goes so far as to say that the Irish are another species, suggesting that Kip isn’t human because his people are too inferior to be the same species as the British. More broadly, Dr. Crouch’s attitude symbolizes the self-importance and arrogance that comes with prejudice.

“Bertrand Windsor appeared in the hallway, coat over his arm, hat in hand. Molly was surprised by the look of him. His time in town had apparently had an invigorating effect. His cheeks were flushed with color, and his black hair was now streaked with auburn. He looked ten years younger.”

Here, Mr. Windsor has just returned from a business trip that presumably lasted a short amount of time, given that he left a few chapters ago and Molly has only been at the house for a couple of weeks. While first touring the house, Molly sees the portrait of the Windsors from a year ago when they looked younger and healthier. The last year in the house with the tree has turned them into shadows of their former selves, and Mr. Windsor’s appearance here, followed by the way he deflates after a confrontation with Constance, suggests that the health of his soul is tied up in his relationship with her.

“‘Why didn't you tell me?’

He blinked in the darkness. ‘I thought you wouldn't listen. And don't say it ain’t true, because it is. You looked in a mirror every day for weeks and didn't see nothin’. If your own eyes canna convince you, what chance do I stand?’”

This exchange between Kip and Molly comes when Molly confesses that she has noticed her appearance change since they arrived at the house—her red hair has dulled to black, and her skin is starting to turn gray. Kip noticed a while ago but said nothing because Molly didn’t seem receptive to his thoughts, and this short section shows how bias and fear keep the characters from noticing things or listening to the wisdom of others. It also demonstrates the human tendency to keep potentially helpful information unsaid for fear that it will be ill-received. As the younger sibling, Kip is used to Molly taking the lead, and so he says nothing about her appearance changing because he doesn’t feel she will listen to him. Molly has repeatedly told Kip there’s nothing wrong with the house, which is a lie because she doesn’t want to frighten Kip. In addition, Molly shoves away any talk of the house or tree being dangerous because she’s afraid of the implications. If there really is something wrong with the house, they might have to leave, and Molly has no plan for where they will go next. Her fear prevents her from facing the truth and makes her less observant.

“Molly picked her way through the bustle, brushing against shoulders and pushcarts and locals. She saw a few girls her age who looked to be selling milk and needlepoint pictures. Stray livestock and the occasional small child skittered under her heels. Molly closed her eyes, savoring the smells and sounds. She found it comforting to be close to so many other people, to so much life.”

This passage comes while Molly and Kip are in town at the market. This is the first time they have been away from the house since being hired by the Windsors, and the juxtaposition of the bustling market to the quiet, deathly atmosphere of the house makes Molly feel as if she’s living a different life. She has become accustomed to the dark solitude of the house, and she doesn’t realize how isolating it is until she’s around other people. The crowds make her feel comfortable in a way she can’t quite understand. This dynamic, combined with Molly’s reluctance to admit that there’s anything strange about the house and tree, demonstrates the human tendency to rationalize away one’s inner fears and observations. Molly breathes easier around the crowds and life of the market, and it is this contrast that finally makes her question the nature of life at the house. Away from its baleful influence, she cannot completely believe the lies that she has been telling herself—that the strangeness of the house is all in her mind.

“Don’t confuse what you do with who you are, dearie. Besides, there’s no shame in humble work. Why, Aesop himself, the king of storytellers, was a slave his whole life. Never drew a free breath, yet he shaped the world with just three small words: ‘There once was.’ And where are his great masters now, hmm? Rotting in tombs, if they’re lucky. But Aesop—he still lives to this day, dancing on the tip of every tongue that’s ever told a tale.”

Hester says this after she helps Molly get a better price from the market vendors, when Molly insists that storytellers are nobodies. Hester counters Molly’s claim by citing Aesop, a Greek storyteller famous for fables about anthropomorphic animals. Though Aesop’s existence can’t truly be verified, it doesn’t matter because his name is associated with the stories. Whether he told them or not, he’s credited with them, and as Hester says here, he lives on centuries after his death thanks to the influence he had in the storytelling tradition. By comparison, the people who supposedly enslaved him have been lost to history, even though they would have been important people in their own culture.

“‘It tastes like apples!’ Kip said, licking the foam from his top lip.

Molly sniffed her own drink. ‘Rotten ones.’

The old woman raised her cup. ‘To differing opinions: may they ever stay apart.’”

This conversation between Kip, Molly, and Hester comes while the three sit in the tavern where Hester tells them about the Night Gardener. Hester orders a round of ciders for the table, and the drink is taken differently by each of them. Kip and Hester enjoy it while Molly dislikes it. Kip and Molly’s lines show how people have differing opinions about the same thing, and they also demonstrate how people can experience the same thing in different ways. Accordingly, Hester’s closing line speaks to the importance of differing opinions. She hopes that differing opinions will forever stay apart, meaning that she hopes they never come together and fuse two opinions into one.

“‘Stories come in all different kinds.’ Hester scooted closer, clearly enjoying the subject at hand. ‘There’s tales, which are light and fluffy. Good for a smile on a sad day. Then you got yarns, which are showy-yarns reveal more about the teller than the story. After that there’s myths, which are stories made up by whole groups of people. And last of all, there’s legends!’ She raised a mysterious eyebrow. ‘Legends are different from the rest on account no one knows where they start. Folks don't tell legends; they repeat them.’”

Here, Hester has just asked for payment for the legend of the Night Gardener, which prompts her to discuss the different types of stories and what they are worth. The first three types—tales, yarns, and myths—are grouped together as types of stories that people tell, either as individuals or as a group. In particular, yarns show that one’s storytelling style reveals as much about the storyteller as it does about the story itself, especially during a retelling. Myths represent how stories come to be widely spread beliefs, and as such, they are most similar to legends. According to Hester, the biggest difference between myths and legends is that myths may be traced to an original teller, whereas legends just exist, possibly baked into the very fabric of existence.

“‘Lizards aren’t snakes, but they can still bite. Worse, they’re bad luck in a garden. So folks have an old trick for gettin’ rid of ‘em. What you do is wait till just before sundown, when the air’s cool but the lizards ain’t yet gone into their holes. You take a red-hot rock from the fire and set it in the middle of your garden. The lizards—why, they hate the cold, and they’ll come runnin’ straight for that rock and curl up right on top o’ it. Come mornin’, you’ll wake to find ‘em still on that rock, their bodies cooked alive.’ She turned back. ‘You see: the rock saves ‘em from chill only to kill ‘em in its own way.’”

Molly says this shortly after she finds Mr. Windsor begging the tree for a cure for Constance. Mr. Windsor has just revealed the misfortunes that led to his family losing everything and how his stress is like a snake choking the life out of him. Molly offers this story, and while she prefaces it as a comparison to snakes, it’s really about the tree. The lizards are a metaphor for Mr. Windsor’s actions. Like the lizards, he rushes headlong into a desperate solution, only to have that supposed solution become more of a problem than the original issue. Mr. Windsor was in trouble with his debts, but now that he has enlisted the aid of the tree, he’s in twice the danger from the debts and the tree’s magic combined. Debt is to Mr. Windsor as the cold is to the lizards, and the tree is to Mr. Windsor as the hot stone is to the lizards.

“Of course stories are made up, my boy—otherwise, they’d be called ‘facts.’ We in the modern age should know better than to believe in such flimflam. Returning to our magic tree: clearly the surrounding soil provides a unique balance of nutrients that perfectly suits its nutritional needs.”

Dr. Crouch speaks these lines in a debate with Kip over dinner. Kip has revealed the tree’s nature, and the doctor insists that such nonsense is the product of the Irish imagination, yet another example of how the British viewed Irish customs and beliefs as less than their own supposedly refined views. Crouch argues here that magic is simply a manifestation of unexplained science. Caught up as he is in the advancements of British science, he refuses to entertain the idea that the supernatural might actually exist, which becomes especially ironic when the Night Man kills him and his body becomes an energy source for the tree. Under normal circumstances, the doctor’s explanation of an exact combination of nutrients and environment makes sense, and juxtaposed to this explanation, the tree symbolizes that not everything in the world follows a set scientific code.

“‘When I pull the lever on this handle’—he showed her a small trigger—‘it will ignite the powder-creating enough light to capture the subject’s likeness on one of these plates.’ [...] ‘You said you’d trap him and take him with you.’

‘And I am...in a manner of speaking!’”

This exchange between Molly and Dr. Crouch exemplifies Dr. Crouch’s inflated sense of his own intelligence. He believes that he is brilliant, having outsmarted two Irish children by finding a way to capture the creature without actually having to do what he promised. Dr. Crouch is entirely motivated by using the least amount of effort to make himself look good, and he plans to earn credit for discovering something new while leaving the actual work of documenting and researching the phenomenon to others. Crouch’s plan shows that he never believed a word Kip or Molly said about a magic tree. He saw only an opportunity to advance himself, and he cares less about helping the children and more about securing evidence of a new phenomenon whose discovery will cover him in acclaim.

“Molly heard this and felt a pain within, for she knew what it was to see a story vanish even as she told it. ‘You could just write ‘em down,’ she said. ‘Make a book.’

‘A book!’ Hester laughed. ‘Can you imagine it? Me hunched over a little desk, quill in hand, putting down all those fancy scratches on paper?’”

This snippet of a conversation between Molly and Hester comes while Hester is dying. Hester is sad because she has so many stories left untold, and Molly suggests that Hester write them down, even though she knows that Hester will not live long enough to complete a book of tales. Hester scoffs at the idea of writing a book. To her, stories are something she tells, not something she writes for others to read on their own time. Her existence is woven around being the person who entrances others with her voice and words. To her, writing a book, though it does something similar to oral storytelling, is too foreign an idea to contemplate. This attitude speaks to the essence of traditional oral storytelling. Everyone experiences stories differently, including both the storyteller and her listeners, and there is no right or wrong way for stories to be shared.

“‘I think I figured it out.’ She sniffed, looking up at the stars. ‘Hester asked me what the difference between a story and a lie was. At the time, I told her that a story helps folks. “Helps ‘em do what?” she asked. Well, I think I know the answer. A story helps folks face the world, even when it frightens ‘em. And a lie does the opposite. It helps you hide.’”

This passage comes shortly after Hester’s death. Molly has just admitted to Kip that she lied about their parents’ deaths, and Kip has shown her the balm that the tree gave him for his leg. The two siblings cling to one another, both feeling they’ve done something terribly wrong, and in this shared strength, Molly resolves her inner conflict about the nature of stories versus lies. She has grappled with the difference between the two for the entire book, and here, she decides that stories help people face the world while lies help them to hide from the truth. Applying this to the lies and stories she’s told allows her to complete her character arc and understand the harm she has caused with her lies, as well as the help she has given with her stories.

“Molly removed a stuffed bear to find a stack of Princess Penny books. The gilded pages shone bright even in the shadows. ‘Things like these?’

The girl nodded. She touched the topmost book, picking at its corner. The cover was adorned with a bright picture of the princess battling an ogre who looked surprisingly like Alistair. Molly put a hand on the girl’s shoulder, looking her straight in the eye. ‘Miss Penny, there’s better stories in the world than these.’”

Here, Molly finds Penny packing to leave the house. Penny struggles with deciding what to bring, as well as with fitting her possessions in her suitcase. She has packed all the Princess Penny books the tree gave her, which offers insight into her character. Prior to coming to the house, Constance told Penny the Princess Penny stories, and when she stopped after they were at the house, Penny got the books from the tree. Presumably, if they are leaving the house, things might return to how they were with Constance telling the stories, but Penny has spent so much time at the house without her mother paying attention to her that she fears leaving the Princess Penny stories behind. She doesn’t realize that taking the tree’s gifts would only allow the tree to continue influencing her, even after she escapes from it.

“Kip grinned, feeling a thrill that was altogether new to him. He and Alistair were working as a team—doing something that neither of them could have accomplished alone.”

This short section of Kip’s thoughts comes while he and Alistair lure the Night Man away from the house so Molly and the others can escape. This marks the moment that Kip and Alistair overcome the last of the animosity between them. Both realize their loved ones need them, and they’ll do anything to protect the people they care about. Kip acknowledges that this feeling of teamwork is new, suggesting that he and Molly, despite being a team of sorts, never worked together in quite this way. This section also shows Kip coming to understand that he doesn’t have to think of himself as being different because of his disability. He is just as smart and capable as anyone else, and he brings just as much value to a situation as someone without a disability.

“‘There once was a little boy named Kip.’ She swallowed again, forcing back tears. ‘He was a very special little boy, like none other. He had red hair like his father, and green eyes like his mother, and a fightin’ spirit like the devil himself. But most of all...he had a sister who loved him more than anythin’ in the whole world.’ She pressed her lips together. ‘But one day, that sister made a mistake...And she didn’t care for him like he needed, like he deserved. And she didn’t tell him the truth.’”

Molly tells this story after they have defeated the Night Man. Alistair has rescued Kip from the river, and Kip appears to be dead. In this moment, Molly feels as if she has lost everything, and this story is her way of saying goodbye to her brother and apologizing for all the times she lied to him. Molly doesn’t realize how much Kip means to her until this moment, reflecting the human tendency not to appreciate precious relationships until they are gone. Kip wakes shortly after this, asking what happens next in the story, implying that Molly’s storytelling ability truly is magic and has the power to revive him. Alternatively, it may be that her voice helps Kip to find the strength to overcome death.