The Tesla Gate (23 page)

CHAPTER 25

Capital Secrets

“Vision is the art of seeing what is invisible to others.”

—Jonathan Swift

Dinner was greasy and good. The honorable Abraham Lincoln seemed to have a special affinity for hamburgers. I don't think they had them in his time, but if they had, I don't think he would have had such a slender frame.

Even though I did not use the term Impal publicly anymore, it was still the descriptor of choice in my head. I took notice of each and every one sitting at our table. Many were from Esther's time, I would say about 50-100 years before Lincoln. There were a few from the Civil War, as evidenced by the uniforms and clothing they still wore. Another dozen or so were probably from the early 20th Century, and then a potpourri of time periods was represented from the 1920s all the way up to present day.

A small boy, not much older than Seth, watched us with keen interest from two tables over. When he got up and walked to get a refill on chips, I could see that he was wearing a green Lego
Star Wars
t-shirt. His silvery shimmer gave the two characters on the front, R2-D2 and C-3PO, a surreal animated appearance like they were moving about, as if they were doing a droid jig. When I saw his shirt, I thought to myself how well that Seth and the boy would get along with their common interest in
Star Wars
, but to my surprise, he kept his eyes on me most of the time, hardly noticing Seth.

When dinner was over, Mollie stood up and hobbled to the center of the tables on her cane. She looked around at the room and smiled brightly at everyone.

“I would like to thank everyone for being here tonight, and I hope you enjoyed the wonderful food provided by my son from his favorite burger place.”

As it turned out, Mollie's son owned a chain of the Martian joints in the Maryland and northern Virginia area. I guess it's good to have connections, especially when you have this many mouths to feed.

She proceeded to introduce Seth and me to the group. I felt like I was at an Impal Alcoholics Anonymous meeting as the unanimous response came back like it was spoken from inside a tin can.

Hi, Thomas and Seth.

“All are welcome here, souls and fleshers alike,” she said, pinching the sagging age-spotted skin on her right forearm, I would guess to demonstrate her status as a flesher. “It's terrible times out there right now, terrible for us all.”

There was a murmuring of agreement from the crowd.

I didn't want to offend, but I also wanted to know two things: why we were all eating burgers in a cave, and what else was going on that was more terrible than just rounding Impals up and relocating them? I slowly raised my hand.

“Yes, Mr. Pendleton,” Mollie smiled.

“You have a beautiful home, ma'am, and I'm happy to be here,” I said, cautiously. “But, what is this place we are in?” I asked, gazing up at a rather jagged stalactite above my head.

“Why, thank you, Mr. Pendleton!” she said, her pearly-white dentures in full display. “As to what this place is, I think Mr. Lincoln would be more qualified to give you a thorough explanation.” She gave a quick cackle of a laugh and said, “I have no doubt you will find it both fascinating and useful!”

When Mollie's pep talk was over, everyone contributed in the cleanup and the Impals slowly made their way to an unassuming set of rock steps on the opposite wall of where Seth and I had entered. I tried to strike up a conversation with Lincoln again, but he politely interrupted me as he reached the base of the steps.

“Excuse me, Tommy,” he said. “I have to go up and purge. Gotta keep Mollie's dogs fed and our house clean,” he said with a chuckle.

“Seth, you probably ought to go up and squench,” I said patting him on the head.

Lincoln emitted such a loud belly laugh, I jumped. His tinny laughter echoed through the cavern.

“Squenching … I like that!” he said in between guffaws. “Would you mind if I used that term? It sounds far less nasty than purging.”

“Be my guest,” I said, a little bemused. For a man that history reported to be somewhat melancholy, he sure liked to laugh.

He held out his hand for Seth and said, “My lad, would you care to join me for squenching?”

Seth couldn't help but laugh and eagerly took Lincoln's hand and followed him up the steps.

“We'll be back shortly,” he promised as they rounded a bend at the top of the stairs and disappeared.

It made me nervous to let Seth out of my sight, if only for a few minutes, but my gut told me we were safe. I had no reason to believe otherwise. I turned to face the cavern in time to see the stuttering feet and cane of Mollie as she reached the top of the stairs leading to the secret passage. Shortly I heard the door in the bookshelf creak open and then clang shut a few moments later. I was alone in the cavern.

I stared around at the lanterns ringing the cave. They provided ample light by which to navigate, but they also gave the cave a mysterious aura like I was standing inside an ancient tomb that had just been lit for some sort of sacred ceremony. The only thing that dispelled that illusion were the rows of beds on the far wall. I had not noticed them at first because of the viewing angle I had when we came down the stairs and the fact that they were slightly obscured by a couple of rotund stalagmites.

I walked over and examined what I guessed must be the sleeping quarters for all the Impals that lived here. Actually, “lived” here might not be the correct word; it was more like they had taken refuge here with Mollie in her basement cave. The beds were in neat rows, much like the tables had been and were made up so tightly you couldn't see a wrinkle on any of the sheets. I had counted up to 35 beds when I heard everyone coming back down the stairs from their squenching expedition.

I quickly stepped back, as not to appear snoopy, and turned to face the stairs. A man and a woman came down first. They were dressed in garb that suggested that they might have lived during the Great Depression or slightly before. They looked at me warily, obviously aware that I had been examining their sleeping area.

“Hello,” I said.

“Good evening, Mr. Pendleton,” the man said with a pensive smile. The woman did not speak but nodded at me with a wistful smirk.

“Where are you from?” I asked.

“Fairfax,” the man said then grabbed the woman by the hand. “Excuse us, Mr. Pendleton,” he said, then led the woman over to the farthest row of beds. They took a seat facing each other on adjoining beds and engaged in muted conversation, casting me an occasional furtive glance.

They were obviously frightened of me. It bothered me, but I understood their reaction. After all, it was people like me that were causing all the problems. What did Mollie call us … fleshers? I didn't have time to consider this because I heard more people returning down the stairs. Several of them revered me the same way that the man and woman had, while some were quiet pleasant, smiling and speaking and asking how my trip was. There were none as friendly as Abe Lincoln who showed up a few minutes later with Seth in tow.

But before Seth and the president made it back, I was surprised when I felt the strange cold and warmth sensation as I had so many times when Seth took my hand. I looked down expecting to see him smiling up at me, but instead of Seth it was the little boy I had seen earlier with the green Lego
Star Wars
shirt.

“Hi,” he beamed with a broad, toothy grin that stretched his freckles from ear to ear.

“Hi,” I said. “What's your name?”

“Patrick,” he said maintaining his goofy kid-like smile.

“Well, Patrick,” I said, shaking his hand up and down. He had not released his grip. “Where are you from, young man?”

He shrugged. “Around.”

“Are your parents around?” I asked.

He didn't say a word, just shook his head in the negative, his smile drooping slightly.

I didn't know what to ask him. Did your parents move on? Are they alive and moved to another part of the country? Did you run away? The book of etiquette would need to have a new chapter or two written as a result of this phenomenon. In the end, I decided not to push it.

“Well, I am glad you are here Patrick,” I said. “Have you met my son, Seth?”

He frowned and shook his head. It was at that moment that I heard Seth and Lincoln coming back down the stairs. I looked up for a moment and when I looked back down, Patrick was gone. I glanced around and did not see him, but I had little time to look as Seth ran up and grabbed my leg, the sudden cold sending shivers up my spine.

“Daddy, you should see all the animals! There's horses, cows, and a whole bunch of doggies!”

Abe Lincoln walked up behind Seth with a nostalgic grin on his face.

“Yep, I haven't seen that many critters since my days on the farm when I was a lad. Of course, we only had one dog because that was all we could afford to feed.” He frowned with a puzzled look on his face. “I still can't understand this eating thing, though.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Well, I get hungry as a horse, just like I did before, before, well …” his voice trailed off distantly.

I nodded my head in understanding.

“Well,” Lincoln continued, “when I eat, I get full.” He shook his head disconcertedly. “And chewing … I guess our teeth are more solid than the rest.” He said this in such a tone I couldn't decide if it was a statement or a question. He chuckled loudly, drawing stares from several others in the cavern.

“And then there's squenching,” he said between snorts. He leaned close to my ear and whispered confidentially, obviously not wanting Seth to overhear.

“What is squenching, anyhow? Ghost scat?”

He let loose with another echoing belly laugh. No, Mr. Lincoln was not melancholy; he was as jovial as good old St. Nick and as crass as my great uncle who had an affinity for potty humor. If my uncle had decided to remain when he passed 15 years ago, I could only imagine the field day he was having with squenching.

He furrowed his brow and frowned slightly, trying to put the humor aside, at least for a moment. He extended his index finger and made a circular motion.

“I guess it's kind of a circle of life thing. We eat the food, we purge the food, and the animals clean up. I just don't understand why we souls need to eat; we obviously don't need it, at least as nourishment, anyhow.” He shook his head dismissively. “I know that's not what you want to talk about. Tommy and I could go on all night and not understand it a bit better in the morning. I guess we should just go on and accept it, cause we sho' can't change it,” he said with a wink.

He pulled up a chair at one of the tables and beckoned me to sit across from him. He leaned back and crossed his hands over his slender belly. It was surreal talking to this man who was not only an American hero and my personal hero but he was also famous around the world. He was an icon to say the least, but still he was not what I expected. I expected a serious and deliberate man, someone who demanded respect and reverence, in short I expected a stiff. But his light-hearted personality took me by surprise. I was pleasantly surprised and instantly felt at ease, like I was talking to a lifelong friend. That was a good thing, but it only enhanced the fantastic nature of our conversation each time I thought about who I was actually speaking to.

“Well, Tommy, I know you want to know where we are. All you have to do is ask.”

I did ask.

As it turned out, the cavern that we were in was the end of a very old tunnel system that had been started and finished prior to the Civil War and reinforced in 1862. The tunnel was around three miles long, and was designed for the sole purpose of sneaking people and supplies in and out of the city. Primarily for the safety of the president because of what happened when the British invaded the capital city in the War of 1812, and the reinforcement was done years later because of the potential threat of a Confederate invasion.

“The other end comes out in the basement of an old townhouse a few blocks from the White House. I managed to elude my pursuers the night I made the decision to leave the place I had dwelt in for the past 150 years. I got into the basement and into the passage which has been sealed for years now, probably a century. I was fortunate enough to find a kind heart like Mollie's on the other end, and the rest is history, as I believe that is the expression nowadays.”

I nodded and started to stupidly ask how he made it through a sealed passage. I guess I was getting tired. I smiled when he demonstrated how this was accomplished by slowly pushing his hand through the table.

We must have talked for at least three hours, but it seemed like only ten minutes. I was fascinated to learn about his stay in the White House up until the time he left almost a week ago. It was then that he told me everything he had observed in the Oval Office since the storm arrived. He watched and observed what was transpiring and made the conscious decision to leave and get as far away as he could. Lincoln was and is an intelligent man, and he could see where circumstances were headed; he got out while he could.

“I knew they were following me every time I left,” Lincoln said. “I guess they suspected I was up to no good, because I would take my walks around an older, less visited area of town. The truth is I was checking on the townhouse, and quite frankly I didn't want to be recognized and molested. Things aren't what they were in my day when I could walk to the Capitol and back without anyone hardly noticing, especially when I left my hat at home,” he said pointing to the top of his head, which was completely devoid of eternal headwear.

Lincoln was relegated to his eternal existence in his classic black suit and tie, but his iconic stovepipe hat was not part of his attire. I have to admit, I found that small detail a little disappointing.

“Anyway, when I heard their plan to round up Impals,” Lincoln said then stopped and held up his hand with a wry smile. “It's okay, Mollie's in bed. Besides, I don't find it offensive. Sticks and stones …” he trailed off with a wink and a grin.