Second Place -- Short Fiction
Sunday, July 12 2009 @ 12:00 AM MST
Views: 164
Views: 164
INDEPENDENCE DAY CONTEST -- SHORT FICTION
SECOND PLACE: "Independence Day, 1826" by Steve Barber
The judges loved this patriotic look back at some of our nation's founders, and the editors confess to quite a fondness for the chosen subjects. We hope you feel the same. Editors
John Adams sat up in bed and stared out the open window. Judging by the light, it had to be late afternoon, yet the air was foggy as a typical early spring Massachusetts morning even though it was well into summer. He yawned and stretched his ancient frame, and it was with some surprise he discovered his joints didn't complain about it. How long had it been since he had left his bed? He couldn't remember. In fact the last thing he could remember is that he'd thought he was dying.
He slid the covers down and swung his legs over the side of the bed until his feet touched the floor. He stood up gingerly, but his knees didn't give way and his balance seemed fine.
John stuck his head out the window and looked around. In the distance, through the mist, he saw a lone, tall man staring back at him. "Hello, the house," the man shouted, then walked closer, finally stopping outside the window.
"What might I do for you, stranger?" John said. "Stranger? And how can it be you no longer recognize an old friend, John? Come, open the door."
John hurried to the door, fully aware he was still in his nightclothes. What might this person think of him, lolling about the house at this time of day? He opened the door and stared into the face of
"Thomas? Thomas Jefferson? Is that really you?"
"None other."
The two old friends embraced for some time, then stood back and examined each other. "Oh, but what you must think of me, afternoon already and me still dressed for bed," John said.
"If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly dressed for a state visit myself." And of course it was true. Thomas was similarly attired.
Despite his curiosity, John had far more important questions to ask. "Thomas, how in the world did you get here? Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"
"I cannot answer your first question, sir, for I have no idea how I managed it. And as to your second, I assure you I had no idea I'd be making the trip."
"Well, regardless, you must be hungry. Come in, come in. I'll have food brought in. I'll have --"
"John."
"A room fixed up for you, and clothes. You must --"
"John."
"Have some clothes. I'm sure we can find something your size here."
"You don't know yet, do you, John?"
"What don't I know?"
Thomas put his arm around John's shoulders and directed him back toward his room. A body lay on the bed, a sheet drawn up over its head.
"Oh, my."
With some trepidation, John approached the bed and pulled the sheet back from the face of the corpse. It confirmined what in his heart he already knew to be true.
"Well, then. It appears I've outlived my usefulness."
"Indeed."
"And you?"
"Yes. A few hours before you."
John pondered this new information for a few minutes and decided he wasn't particularly happy about it. "You, me both gone? This is not good. This is not good at all."
"Let me ask you a question. Have you enjoyed your old age? Has it treated you well?"
"Sir, old age is an abomination. I should wish it on no one."
"Then, sir, might I ask what it is you find so troubling about your new found freedom?"
"Well, I...I mean to say, it's...well...I don't have the words for it."
"You mean to tell me the great John Adams has finally run out of words? I knew it! There is a God."
This brought a smile to Adam's face. "I was going to say I felt spiffy, but I thought you might laugh at me." Thomas couldn't help himself and roared with laughter. John couldn't help but join in.
Thomas was the first to regain his composure. "I think it's fair to say I feel 'spiffy' too. And although I have no idea of what we are supposed to do, let me suggest we start by celebrating our personal Independence Day. Come. Let's take a walk outside."
#
They tramped through John's garden, stopping now and then to admire the flowers. Thomas was particularly taken with the Great Blue Lobelia and the Cardinal Flowers. "Oh, John, I so wish I could try to grow some of these at Monticello. They're absolutely beautiful."
"Apparently, we're both done growing flowers--at least from this side of the dirt. I do wonder what is in store for us, though. This isn't quite what I expected."
"Don't be despondent. I have a surprise for you. Come, now. It's just up ahead."
They moved on a little further, with Thomas dawdling from time to time to admire one flower or another, until they noticed a young woman standing in the path ahead. Thomas approached her and took her hand. "Thomas, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" she said.
Thomas led her back to where John waited. "I don't believe you ever met my wife. Martha, let me introduce you to John Adams."
John looked from Thomas to Martha and back again. His face broke out into a wide grin. "Why Thomas, this is marvelous, and she is quite the beauty. You've described her before, but I never imagined...."
"It's wonderful to meet you too, Mr. Adams," Martha said, taking his hand. "Abigail's told me so much about you."
"Abigail?"
"Well, look. Here she is now."
Abigail stood in the path where Martha had previously appeared. She smiled and approached the others. "My Dearest Friend. How are you, John?" she said.
John was dumbstruck. His eyes filled with tears, and he was quite certain he had never felt such joy in all his life. Thomas nodded to Martha and they made a graceful exit, allowing the devoted couple time to become reacquainted.
#
It was night now, and the fog had finally dissipated, revealing a clear sky and the light of a million stars. The old friends sat quietly on a bench in the garden admiring the moment.
Until the night exploded.
Off to the east, rockets fired and guns boomed. Faint pipes and drums could be heard in the background. It sounded like the Revolution all over again.
"What in the name of God is that?" John said.
"Why are you so startled?" Abigail said. "You, yourself said this would happen, remember? You said 'the second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forevermore. '
"Of course, you got the date wrong."
John patted her hand. "Indeed I did. But it wasn't the date of Independence that was important. It was the fact of it." He leaned back on the bench and watched the ballistics show overhead with a great deal of satisfaction.
"We did a good thing, I believe, Thomas. A very good thing. If we accomplished nothing else in life, I think that would be enough."
"You might have given women the vote," Abigail said.
"And slavery," Martha said. "Such an evil institution it is."
"Then let us trust to our descendants to attend to our oversights," Thomas said. In the distance several rockets exploded, showering down a trail of beautiful gold and red sparkles.
"How long do you suppose it will really last, this new country of ours?" John said.
"A long time, I should hope, but we've done our part and it's no longer up to us. I would so like to stay around and see how it all turns out, though."
"As would I, but I sense we have a different mission now. So instead, perhaps we should pray our descendants are wise enough to make the right choices. And if they happen to remember our words and deeds from time to time, I'll rest contented."
"Our deeds are not that important, John. As mortal men, we were flawed. We made our share of mistakes. But our words, John. Our words. I'm convinced they were inspired. Do you think they'll be remembered?"
"I hope so. With all my heart I hope so. For I do not want to consider what might happen if they are not."
***
"...the second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America.....from this time forward forevermore. "
Quoted directly from a letter dated July 3, 1776, from John Adams to his wife, Abigail.
SECOND PLACE: "Independence Day, 1826" by Steve Barber
The judges loved this patriotic look back at some of our nation's founders, and the editors confess to quite a fondness for the chosen subjects. We hope you feel the same. Editors
John Adams sat up in bed and stared out the open window. Judging by the light, it had to be late afternoon, yet the air was foggy as a typical early spring Massachusetts morning even though it was well into summer. He yawned and stretched his ancient frame, and it was with some surprise he discovered his joints didn't complain about it. How long had it been since he had left his bed? He couldn't remember. In fact the last thing he could remember is that he'd thought he was dying.
He slid the covers down and swung his legs over the side of the bed until his feet touched the floor. He stood up gingerly, but his knees didn't give way and his balance seemed fine.
John stuck his head out the window and looked around. In the distance, through the mist, he saw a lone, tall man staring back at him. "Hello, the house," the man shouted, then walked closer, finally stopping outside the window.
"What might I do for you, stranger?" John said. "Stranger? And how can it be you no longer recognize an old friend, John? Come, open the door."
John hurried to the door, fully aware he was still in his nightclothes. What might this person think of him, lolling about the house at this time of day? He opened the door and stared into the face of
"Thomas? Thomas Jefferson? Is that really you?"
"None other."
The two old friends embraced for some time, then stood back and examined each other. "Oh, but what you must think of me, afternoon already and me still dressed for bed," John said.
"If you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly dressed for a state visit myself." And of course it was true. Thomas was similarly attired.
Despite his curiosity, John had far more important questions to ask. "Thomas, how in the world did you get here? Why didn't you let me know you were coming?"
"I cannot answer your first question, sir, for I have no idea how I managed it. And as to your second, I assure you I had no idea I'd be making the trip."
"Well, regardless, you must be hungry. Come in, come in. I'll have food brought in. I'll have --"
"John."
"A room fixed up for you, and clothes. You must --"
"John."
"Have some clothes. I'm sure we can find something your size here."
"You don't know yet, do you, John?"
"What don't I know?"
Thomas put his arm around John's shoulders and directed him back toward his room. A body lay on the bed, a sheet drawn up over its head.
"Oh, my."
With some trepidation, John approached the bed and pulled the sheet back from the face of the corpse. It confirmined what in his heart he already knew to be true.
"Well, then. It appears I've outlived my usefulness."
"Indeed."
"And you?"
"Yes. A few hours before you."
John pondered this new information for a few minutes and decided he wasn't particularly happy about it. "You, me both gone? This is not good. This is not good at all."
"Let me ask you a question. Have you enjoyed your old age? Has it treated you well?"
"Sir, old age is an abomination. I should wish it on no one."
"Then, sir, might I ask what it is you find so troubling about your new found freedom?"
"Well, I...I mean to say, it's...well...I don't have the words for it."
"You mean to tell me the great John Adams has finally run out of words? I knew it! There is a God."
This brought a smile to Adam's face. "I was going to say I felt spiffy, but I thought you might laugh at me." Thomas couldn't help himself and roared with laughter. John couldn't help but join in.
Thomas was the first to regain his composure. "I think it's fair to say I feel 'spiffy' too. And although I have no idea of what we are supposed to do, let me suggest we start by celebrating our personal Independence Day. Come. Let's take a walk outside."
#
They tramped through John's garden, stopping now and then to admire the flowers. Thomas was particularly taken with the Great Blue Lobelia and the Cardinal Flowers. "Oh, John, I so wish I could try to grow some of these at Monticello. They're absolutely beautiful."
"Apparently, we're both done growing flowers--at least from this side of the dirt. I do wonder what is in store for us, though. This isn't quite what I expected."
"Don't be despondent. I have a surprise for you. Come, now. It's just up ahead."
They moved on a little further, with Thomas dawdling from time to time to admire one flower or another, until they noticed a young woman standing in the path ahead. Thomas approached her and took her hand. "Thomas, aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" she said.
Thomas led her back to where John waited. "I don't believe you ever met my wife. Martha, let me introduce you to John Adams."
John looked from Thomas to Martha and back again. His face broke out into a wide grin. "Why Thomas, this is marvelous, and she is quite the beauty. You've described her before, but I never imagined...."
"It's wonderful to meet you too, Mr. Adams," Martha said, taking his hand. "Abigail's told me so much about you."
"Abigail?"
"Well, look. Here she is now."
Abigail stood in the path where Martha had previously appeared. She smiled and approached the others. "My Dearest Friend. How are you, John?" she said.
John was dumbstruck. His eyes filled with tears, and he was quite certain he had never felt such joy in all his life. Thomas nodded to Martha and they made a graceful exit, allowing the devoted couple time to become reacquainted.
#
It was night now, and the fog had finally dissipated, revealing a clear sky and the light of a million stars. The old friends sat quietly on a bench in the garden admiring the moment.
Until the night exploded.
Off to the east, rockets fired and guns boomed. Faint pipes and drums could be heard in the background. It sounded like the Revolution all over again.
"What in the name of God is that?" John said.
"Why are you so startled?" Abigail said. "You, yourself said this would happen, remember? You said 'the second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward forevermore. '
"Of course, you got the date wrong."
John patted her hand. "Indeed I did. But it wasn't the date of Independence that was important. It was the fact of it." He leaned back on the bench and watched the ballistics show overhead with a great deal of satisfaction.
"We did a good thing, I believe, Thomas. A very good thing. If we accomplished nothing else in life, I think that would be enough."
"You might have given women the vote," Abigail said.
"And slavery," Martha said. "Such an evil institution it is."
"Then let us trust to our descendants to attend to our oversights," Thomas said. In the distance several rockets exploded, showering down a trail of beautiful gold and red sparkles.
"How long do you suppose it will really last, this new country of ours?" John said.
"A long time, I should hope, but we've done our part and it's no longer up to us. I would so like to stay around and see how it all turns out, though."
"As would I, but I sense we have a different mission now. So instead, perhaps we should pray our descendants are wise enough to make the right choices. And if they happen to remember our words and deeds from time to time, I'll rest contented."
"Our deeds are not that important, John. As mortal men, we were flawed. We made our share of mistakes. But our words, John. Our words. I'm convinced they were inspired. Do you think they'll be remembered?"
"I hope so. With all my heart I hope so. For I do not want to consider what might happen if they are not."
***
"...the second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable epoch in the history of America.....from this time forward forevermore. "
Quoted directly from a letter dated July 3, 1776, from John Adams to his wife, Abigail.