Destination Hope - Book 5 - Reconciliation - Chapter 9

Our Constitutional Republic is under attack from both foreign and domestic enemies. Radical mobs are provoking a 2nd bloody civil war. Leftist sponsors are funding Illegal aliens mounting an invasion of our southern border. And Democrat leaders are calling for incivility. Will this government of the people, by the people, for the people, perish from the earth?

For new readers of this story, I linked Chapter 1. Chapters 2-4 are linked under September. Chapters 5-8 are linked under October.

Destination Hope – Book 5 – Reconciliation

A Novel By:

Charles J. Patricoff

Copyright © 2014 by Charles J. Patricoff. All rights reserved.

Chapter 9

Disclosures

The grandfather clock struck its single, half-hour chime. Its deep, resonating bong drew Paul’s attention away from the pressing legal matter at hand. He sat with quiet uneasiness in the new high-back, burgundy leather chair set in his father’s former, now redecorated office, which appealed to well-to-do clients. Across the expanse of what seemed a desk large enough to suit the President of the United States sat his attorney reviewing a document, which he held before him with both hands. He grunted, or hummed, every now and again as he read.

Another five minutes passed. The attorney set the document down, rose from his chair, and strolled across his office. He stood in front of Paul’s father’s ceiling-to-floor jurisprudence library.

“What is it?” Paul asked.

“We might have a slight problem.” Paul’s attorney said. “It’s not insurmountable. However, there is a formality we’ll have to pursue before you can legally exercise the contract provision.”

“I’m curious, what formality.”

“I’ll have to file a petition with the court requesting that it declare the one party to the contract deceased.”

“Will that be a problem?”

The attorney pulled a book from the shelf and leafed through its pages. “Only if…” He seemed to find what he sought. He read aloud completing his sentence, “…someone disputes the petition. According to case law here, we need to publish our intentions.”

“Like in the newspapers?”

The attorney’s eyes rose from the book and connected with Paul’s. “Yes, exactly and if after ninety days no one raises an objection, we can request a hearing and ask the county judge to make a final pronouncement.”

“Then, we could proceed?”

“Yes, we can complete the ownership transfer.” The attorney crossed the room and stopped his chair. “As I see it, for the most part, you’ll have to come up with enough money to cover the court costs and, of course, my fee.”

Paul scanned the place of business he spent so many hours in as a child opening mail for his father with a letter opener embossed with an ornamental design. Angrily, he said, “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

Several seconds passed with the ticking of the old walnut grandfather timepiece. “I see,” the attorney said. “By the way, how is your sister?”

Paul shifted his posture to relieve some nagging lower back pain. He looked away, clenching his jaw. “I suppose in a small town like this everyone knows or assumes they know something. Let me first apologize for her. I’m sure you must have been surprised when she broke off your engagement, Mr. Merritt.”

“Yes, I must admit I was taken back. I couldn’t imagine why.”

“I think I know, but mind you, it is only speculation on my part. I can’t tell you how angry I am at her. I never thought my sister would become…”

Merritt probed. “Become what?”

Paul stared across the office. “A loose woman.”

A grin surfaced on Merritt’s face but shifted to a frown. “I see. How do you…I mean, what gives you cause to think this of her?”

“Well, at least she had the decency to break off your engagement so as to not implicate you in her wrongdoings.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She’s about to have a baby.”

Merritt’s eyes widened. “Oh, you don’t say…a baby.” He paced behind his desk, then walked into the open area where he kept a couch and coffee table. “I guess that explains her disappearance…why no one has heard from her.”

“Again, I’m sorry.  She claims the baby is a result of a man raping her.”

Merritt placed the book on the tabletop. “Did she say who?”

“No, that’s why I think she got herself in trouble. But I can guess.” Paul blinked. Maybe she met with her Rebel friend. “There are a few scoundrels in this town.”

“Do you think it was Mr. Burgess?”

“I don’t know, but the whole thing is a terrible mess. She’s ruined any chance she might have for a decent future.”

“Where is she now?”

Paul suspected Mr. Merritt knew the answer anyway. “With the Moody family in Chicago.”

Merritt nodded. “They will take good care of her.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Well, it’s all water under the bridge now. Let’s see if we can get the shop back into your hands. What do you plan to do with it?”

“I became quite proficient with mending uniforms during the war. I’m going to turn the shop into both a men’s and women’s clothing store.”

“That is a terrific idea. Maybe I’ll have you make me a new suit.”

“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Merritt. When would you need it?”

“Not anytime soon, so let’s not get ahead of ourselves. However, the Federal government has offered me an administrative position as part of their reconstruction plans for the South. I haven’t decided if I will accept it, yet. But if I do, I imagine I would need a new suit. I should look my best, don’t you think?”

Paul smiled. “Yes, and you won’t be disappointed. You will look brilliant. I personally guarantee it.”

Merritt approached Paul and extended his hand. “Then I suggest we make you the rightful owner of your mother’s shop.”

“Thank you, Mr. Merritt. You’ve always been a good friend.”

On Friday, July 7, 1865, the Federal Government took the life of a civilian without due process of law. Thus began a false doctrine that the Federal government must concentrate its powers to act with greater efficiency and effectiveness. It descended to a new, unchecked low.

Mary Surratt owned and operated a boarding house in Washington, D.C. The mock trial proved that Lincoln’s assassin, John Wilkes Booth, knew her son, met in her house, and that she sympathized with the South. They failed to prove that she knew anything about the plot to kill anyone. If anything, they proved that she was guilty of not revealing the whereabouts of her son, John, hiding somewhere in Canada. What reasonable person would expect a mother to trade her son’s life for her own? Regardless, at 1:31 in the stifling July afternoon heat, Mrs. Surratt hung until dead with the others who carried out different acts associated with that fateful, Good Friday night.

After the news of the final execution reached the remaining prisoners on Johnson’s Island, Nathaniel delivered another sermon in the hope he could set a reconstruction tone for the men. Many would be counted on to help reform their respective communities. Nathaniel sensed a need to remind them of the firm foundation upon which they must build.

Nathaniel held up his Bible. “Men, I cannot emphasize enough your personal responsibility to study His words and apply them to your life.” He laid his Bible down on the podium and picked up a copy of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution. “Our founding documents are based on the Holy Scriptures. Our founders understood the Republic will survive if a moral and virtuous people govern themselves by the tenants contained herein.” He patted his Bible. “Remember, government cannot do anything God prohibits people from doing. For example, Scripture is clear. His word bars me from committing murder. Would you all agree? Have I correctly interpreted and applied His word?”

The mixed audience of a few faithful attendees and assorted others who had little else to do in these lazy days of summer heat and humidity all grunted assent, nodded, or otherwise kept silent so as not to raise an objection.

Nathaniel limped to his right. “I cannot steal from another man, woman, or child, correct?”

A similar response followed.

“So before we allow any government to tax us for all the rebuilding, we better make sure we agree to the taking. We must remind our people that our local town counsels should only do things that individuals cannot do for themselves. For example, from the mail I have received, my hometown will need to repair or rebuild the bridges crossing the Harpeth River. I’m confident the people of Franklin will want this done. But we must be careful not to allow a bridge construction project turn into a perpetual building program. Otherwise, we will lose sight of the benefits to our local community members and the builders will usurp control as they have done throughout history. Recorded here,” Nathaniel used his Bible like a pointer, “men attempted to build their own bridge to God. The Bible calls it the Tower of Babel.

“The same holds true for the State and Federal governments. The State of Tennessee should only do things that we as a local community cannot do. Also, the objective of whatever is done must benefit the whole State of Tennessee, not one city, county, or region.” Nathaniel pointed to the Constitution. “According to this, the Federal government should only engage in acts the states cannot do for themselves and for things that benefit the entire country, not a single state or enterprise. If we keep these keys in mind, and teach them to our children and children’s children, they and we will be able to guard against government abuses and corruption that are sure to come because we have all sinned and come short of the glory of God. Due to our sin nature, we are corruptible. Once corrupted, we can use the power of government to do evil, even if we think we are doing good deeds.”

Cheers erupted from outside. It sounded much like the feared Rebel yell of their military glory days long past. All heads in the chapel turned for the windows or entrance doors. Below the high-pitched shouting, tuba-resonating footsteps approached, clomped up the narrow wooden steps, and then the chapel doors burst open. Private John Sanders Hicks, “Newsy,” to those in camp, the man who had been incarcerated longer than any other prisoner, panted as he yelled with all of his might, “We’re free!”

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