Page 84 of Death on Gallows Path

“The English hanged prisoners in public at Tyburn for six-hundred and fifty years, starting in the twelfth century. You can’t tell me there weren’t one-liners from any of those who died.

“There’s a story of an infamous poisoner named William Palmer, condemned to hang in the mid-1800s, asking the executioner about the trap door, Are you sure it’s safe.

“St. Lawrence, executed nearly eighteen hundred years ago by being burned on a gridiron, is said to have told those killing him, Turn me over. I’m done on this side.”

Having matched Urban in the realm of history, she added etymology.

“Sources say the phrase gallows humor comes from a literal translation of the German Galgenhumor, cited in 1909. Others attribute it to American writer William Dean Howells in 1901.”

“You know that all off the top of your head?”

“Hah. You think I know Galgenhumor in 1909 and William Dean Howells in 1901? Or the dates of Tyburn? Of course not. I’m looking it up as we talk.”

I chuckled. Mostly at myself for assuming Kit did know it off the top of her head.

“You could say the game Hangman is a form of gallows humor, call it gallows entertainment,” she added.

“Hangman. I haven’t thought of that in forever. Grandma had us cousins playing that one rainy day at her house. I’m not sure all of us could spell yet. It was not a big hit.”

She snorted. Amused, but impatient. “Is this why you called?”

“No.” Easier than talking about Teague, though.

“Didn’t think so.” That was downright smug. “You have that I’m-screwing-things-up-with-Teague-by-hiding-the-truth tone.”

“You’re back on James Joyce and secrets’ tyranny?”

“He wasn’t wrong. Secrets can bind people or separate them.”

The secret about Abandon All bound Kit and me. Then it separated Teague and me. What were his secrets doing?

“Kit, tell me about moral injury.”

She paused a quarter of a beat. “Can come from what the person did, actions that contradicted their morals or ethics or values. Can also be from what others did.”

“What others did?”

“Take a medical professional whose ethos is to try to save everybody, who had to triage patients in an emergency when there were inadequate resources to treat everybody. That person could blame him- or herself. Or could blame the hierarchy that made the decisions that led to inadequate resources.”

“Or blame both,” I murmured.

“Certainly. At different times, could apportion blame in different degrees. Moral injury can result from what wasn’t done — by the individual, by others.”

“Is it part of PTSD?”

“I believe experts would say no, though they can coexist and exacerbate each other. One guy told me the rough shortcut is moral injury doesn’t usually have the element of visceral fear that PTSD does. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if experts come around to thinking repeated moral injury can trigger PTSD. I got to know a guy who learned a lot about it. He was glad to have it added to the DSM, the—.”

“Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders.”

“Glad you remember that. What does it have to do with you driving on a highway?”

“Go ahead, gloat. You’re right. I’m on the interstate, heading back to Haines Tavern after lunch outside Lafayette, Indiana.”

“Purdue?”

“That’s West Lafayette.”

“Gloat standoff,” she acknowledged. “Why did you have lunch outside Lafayette?”