Children of Liberty

by Paullina Simons

  He pretended to think. “How about ‘Are You Washed in the Blood’?”

  She pretended to be aghast. “Harry! You’re joking, right?”

  “Why?” he said with a straight face.

  “For our wedding?”

  “Oh.” He thought. “How about ‘Till the Storm Passes By’?”

  She gave him a quizzical look.

  “‘In the Hour of Trial’?”

  “If you’re not going to be serious …”

  “I gave you three suggestions and you don’t like any of them.”

  “I picked ‘The Voice that Breathed over Eden’ and ‘Oh Perfect Love.’” She took his hand.

  He forced his mouth into a smile. “See how easy that was? We’ll go with your choices then.”

  A beaming Alice moved on to the guest list. “The District Attorney, the Honorable Mr. Pritchard, should sit at the table close to us in the center, don’t you agree?”

  “Who? Oh. I suppose.”

  “And you said earlier you might have found two extra ushers?”

  “I said that?”

  “Yes. Remember I told you I have twelve bridesmaids, but you have only ten ushers?”

  He tried to remember. “I told you, you had to cut two of your maids loose. Ten is tops, Alice. No more will fit in the church.”

  “They stand behind us.” She giggled. “Silly. We can fit fifty.”

  “Heaven forfend.”

  “I can’t cut two of my friends. They’ll be very upset.”

  “And I can’t, as a last-minute invitation, suddenly ask two men to attend a wedding. Everyone else was invited eighteen months ago.” He lowered his head in shame.

  She sighed. “I know, darling. We’ve been planning this a long time. We’re almost home.”

  “Tell two of the ones you like least,” he said, “that you’ll buy them a new dress as recompense. And they’ll still be invited to the reception.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll see.” She chewed her lip. “Did you remember to order your gifts for the ushers?”

  Now it was his turn to chew his lip. “No.”

  “Harry! You’re running out of time. Do you know what you’re going to get them?”

  “No.”

  “Oh my goodness.”

  “What? I suppose you already have the bridesmaids’ gifts?”

  “The gifts for the rehearsal and the wedding. Of course. Weeks ago. My maid of honor Belinda gets a pearl brooch. Very fancy. How about a humidor?”

  “For Belinda?”

  “For your ushers, silly boy.”

  “What’s a humidor?”

  “Harry! What are you going to get for Ben?”

  “A mosquito net?”

  They stood as if at an impasse in the middle of the vast room with floor-to-ceiling windows.

  “I thought we could sit under a shower cascade of white and crimson roses?” Alice said, pointing. “Wouldn’t that be lovely? Over our bridal table?”

  “Yes, if you like.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Did you get me something beautiful?”

  “Did I get you something beautiful?” he repeated. “Like what?”

  She tutted. “You are such a joker,” she said. “Maybe you should try for a career at a carnival instead of a college. Have you decided where Ben and Mr. Veer should take you for your bachelor evening?”

  “When Ben gets here, he can decide. Or the Dutchman will choose, but Ben won’t like it.”

  “Oh no, Harry, I really hope you’re joking this time. You know you had to reserve a place weeks ago. Ben couldn’t do that from Panama. You’re joking, right?”

  “Of course, dear.” He walked around the tables, in a haze.

  “We will have a Viennese dessert hour at midnight,” Alice cooed. “The chef will make Bananas Foster on the spot. Ben will be pleased.”

  “Why would Ben care?”

  “Um—because of the bananas?”

  “Oh.”

  “Harry, what’s wrong with you today?”

  “Today? Nothing.” A grimace contorted his lips. “So much to think about. Why Viennese hour? Don’t we have a bridal cake ten feet high?”

  “Because it’s beautiful at midnight to have a buffet of sweets with the violin quartet serenading us.” Lightly she grazed his cheek. “Don’t worry, darling,” she murmured. “Oh, and about the flowers … I thought of having not just ferns and palms at the church, but also Japanese maples and Himalayan blackberries, tied with ivory satin ribbons, and then to cap it off, lilies of the field!—to symbolize our humility,” she explained. “And white sweet peas. Sarah said sweet peas smell terrific—the Book of Life began with the man and woman in the garden full of flowers …”

  “And ended with the Revelations,” Harry said blackly.

  “What?” Alice frowned. “Oh, before I forget, please don’t forget to invite George Lyman to your bachelor evening. Because my friend Clara is hoping he will get the hint and follow suit, right after us. Oh, darling, I don’t know what I’m more excited about, the wedding itself or our two-month-long wedding trip to Europe.” She lowered her voice and looked around before she proceeded. “Or perhaps just the wedding night?”

  Harry, who was touching the white linens on the tables, stared grimly at her. “Hold on about the wedding night a moment,” he said, also lowering his voice. “We are having a wedding to which five hundred people, including the Governor of Massachusetts, are coming, and you stand here and talk about humility? Perhaps the lesson of the lilies is lost on you, Alice.”

  Color drained from her cheeks as she searched his closed and cold face. “The Archbishop of Boston is going to marry us,” she said in a tremulous voice. “You think that’s too much?”

  2

  Harry was rushing, late for an appointment and then the train to Chicago, when Louis knocked on his door.

  “I can’t right now, Louis. Whatever it is, it’s going to have to wait.” He still didn’t have his tie on or his belt. He was taking a surreptitious bag with him, and didn’t want Louis to see it. He pushed it with his foot behind him and stepped forward toward the open door.

  “All right, sir. But you have a visitor downstairs.”

  “I don’t have time for a visitor, Louis. I just told you. I am egregiously late. Who is it?”

  Louis’s eyes were twinkling. Harry bolted past his semi-retired butler and took the stairs three at a time.

  In the parlor room, Ben waited.

  Harry must have looked shocked to find Ben at his house. Even as they hugged, Ben laughed. “Harry, why are you looking at me as if you’ve seen a ghost? I’m Ben. Benjamin Shaw. Remember? Your best friend.”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Also your best man. You remember that part too?”

  “Also hard to forget.” Like the assembly line full of robots that Henry Ford was foolishly trying to string together, Harry repeated key sounds to try to pretend there was logic in his speech pattern, all to cover his terrible confusion.

  “Why do you look as if I’ve drained your blood? Where’s your sister? Is she happy I’m back?”

  “Happier than she has any right to be.”

  “We should all go have lunch. I’m starved.”

  “Ben, I … I’m so sorry. We have so much to catch up on …”

  “I’ll say.” Ben was thinner, tremendously tanned. His drawn face was now framed by a trimmed and neat beard. He still looked happy, but older too, and hardened, like he had gained wisdom through experience.

  “You don’t look as if you’ve had malaria.”

  “That’s because you didn’t see me when I had malaria. Though I will admit, I looked better than you do right now.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m not contagious, if that’s what you mean. Esther!” Ben called happily up the stairs.

  “She’s not here. She had to …” Harry looked around in desperation. His sister could save him. “Esther!”

  “She is not here, sir,�
�� Louis said. “She went to town to buy a new purse for the wedding.”

  “Esther needs a purse for the wedding?” said Ben. “I find this peculiar.”

  “Many things are strange, you’re right.” Harry cracked his knuckles tensely. “But Ben, right now I’ve got an appointment that I simply can’t skip. I never would’ve made it had I known you were coming.”

  “Old friend, what do you mean? You knew I was coming. I sent you a telegram, telling you I’d be arriving on the 25th of June. Which is today. And you sent me one back saying you would meet me at the Freedom Docks. Do you remember?”

  Harry did not remember. He didn’t want to admit to Ben that upon receiving his telegram, he promptly sent Clarence to compose a reply. Clarence did as he was told, but the downside of delegating this sort of thing meant that Harry had no knowledge of what he had agreed to.

  Right now he was painfully aware of the date. And of the train bound for Chicago in two short hours.

  “Have you ever known me to pay attention to dates, times?” Harry smiled, pacing like a restless stallion about to be let loose in the wild. “Please have lunch with my sister. You’ll make her day. She’s been waiting and waiting.”

  “No, she hasn’t.” Ben laughed. “Why do you always make up stories?”

  “I’ll be back in a while, and then we’ll catch up good and proper. Are you staying with your mother?”

  “My mother is living with another man.”

  “Doesn’t answer my question, but yes. She is seeing Tobias. I met him a few weeks ago. Quite argumentative.”

  “For you to say that, he must be unbearable.”

  “Quite.”

  “She’s living with him in the upstairs room, and downstairs, my poor Aunt Effie has taken over the entire floor.”

  Harry’s gaze clouded. Not noticing, Ben proceeded. “There is no room for me. Mother tells me I can sleep on the floor of their bedroom. I told her I had yellow fever and was terribly contagious. I was hoping you’d let me bunk here. Can Louis help?”

  “We’d love to have you. Esther will be delighted. Louis will fix you up, talk to him. But loudly. Now … I must run. Forgive me?”

  “Don’t think twice about it. How is teaching?”

  “Great!”

  “How is Alice?”

  “Excellent.”

  “Esther? Still married to that medical moron?”

  “The head of surgical obstetrics who is upstairs putting on his socks and listening to your every word? Yes.”

  “How little I care for his title or his presence.” Ben grinned. “Though I wish he weren’t here. I don’t want to hear him taking me to the woodshed about Panama and the mosquito hunters.”

  “Don’t worry, he won’t. He’s never here.”

  At that moment, Esther walked in through the front door carrying five large bags. Harry groaned with naked frustration.

  “Ben!” She dropped all the bags onto the hall floor.

  “Esther!” He opened his arms.

  They embraced like old friends. Esther patted Ben’s back gently, and held on to him, for an extra moment or two. They kissed on both cheeks, stood and grinned at each other. Harry tiptoed past them on his way upstairs.

  “You’ve gotten quite thin,” Ben said. “Is it because you’ve stopped eating bananas?”

  “That must be it. And you’ve gotten very tanned. I barely recognize you.”

  “I have no choice, standing all day long in mud under the sun.”

  She still held his hands. “I’m so happy you’re back. Are you hungry?”

  “I haven’t eaten properly since the day I left.” He smiled to let her know it was only partly true. She smiled back to let him know she knew. Food problems for the Panama Canal workers were legendary.

  “Come with me, Benjamin. I’ll have Bernard make us some lunch.”

  In his coat and hat, Harry, with a bag in hand, was squeezing past them in the hall.

  “Esther, you look rather splendid,” Ben was saying. “Like aristocracy. Marriage agrees with you.”

  “Does it? But you look so thin, Ben. It must be terrible down there. Why do you insist—”

  “Esther, the man is starving,” Harry called to her from the door. “Stop nattering and feed him.”

  Absent-mindedly Esther glanced at her brother. “Where are you off to again?”

  “To see a man about a horse.” He tipped his hat. “See you two later.”

  “Your friend just came five thousand miles!” She turned to Ben. “He is never home anymore. And I mean never.”

  “Harry,” Ben called after him, “you’ll be back for dinner? We have many things to discuss …”

  Harry did not answer. He was afraid it was going to rain in Chicago, and had brought down a raincoat, carelessly throwing it over the umbrella stand, where it still draped, waiting for him. He was also out of words. He bolted out the door, in his best suit and shiniest shoes.

  “Why are you taking a raincoat?” Esther called after him. “It’s a beautiful day.”

  “Is it a beautiful day everywhere?” Harry called back, running down the steps to the street.

  3

  Esther wanted to sit in the formal dining room, just the two of them, but Ben insisted on the casual family dining area overlooking the back garden. Louis served them cold shrimp salad, asparagus with Hollandaise, mustard chicken, white wine, bread, butter, and a plum tart for dessert. Ben barely spoke for the first ten minutes, eating voraciously while Esther watched him.

  “I’m sorry I missed your wedding,” Ben said. He swallowed his food, and smiled. “Perhaps if you would’ve made me best man, I would’ve come, like now.”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking,” said Esther, waving off Louis and herself pouring Ben more wine and serving him more shrimp salad. “It was fine. It wasn’t the ostentatious pageant you’re about to witness.”

  “Did you go on a wedding trip too?”

  “We did, but only to New Hampshire. Elmore had to be back for work. We had two weeks.”

  Ben shook his head. “Well, your brother, as always, couldn’t have picked a worse time to get hitched, let me tell you. Our entire Panama operation is hanging by the bitterest thread, and I just found out my boss and staunchest ally, chief engineer John Wallace has handed his resignation to Roosevelt—while I was en route. What a nightmare.”

  “Resignation! Oh, no. Why?”

  “I keep writing to you why. The whole thing is a complete shambles, that’s why. It’s barely held together with spit on paper. Everybody is always sick, there is no good food, sanitation is non-existent and the trains run on broken rails. Now that we’re actually down there …” Ben looked skeptical. “And if I feel this way, me, the biggest proponent of the Panama experiment—I’m telling you, Est, the Americans are going to have another civil war over this, and this one is going to be worse than the last one. It’s a good thing Elmore isn’t here.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I know I’m going to catch hell for it from him.”

  “But Ben, you didn’t have that many illusions, did you?” said Esther. “All you did was study this for the Isthmian Commission before you went. You knew the terrain wasn’t going to welcome your little digging experiment.”

  “Did I know about the mountains, and the lakes? Did I know about the river that needs to be crossed fourteen times if we’re to build a sea-level canal? I think that’s why my dear friend finally has had it. Roosevelt was demanding results—let the dirt fly and all.” Ben scoffed. “Let the dirt fly indeed. We’re digging, digging, and we know the railroad is too old to sustain the millions of pounds of excavated spoils, and the river keeps flooding, and the mountains keep sliding into the ditches we’ve just dug … Wallace finally threw up his hands.”

  “Have you?” Esther said quietly.

  “What?” Ben blinked with exasperation. “Not yet. But only because I’m like my mother—a stubborn mule. I’m going to lose my job. You’ll see.”


  She hid her excitement. “Because you came here for Harry?”

  “No. Because I’m one of the few who is telling the president we can’t build a sea-level canal.”

  “What?” Esther sat puzzled. “What other kind is there? A flying canal?”

  “You’re funny.”

  “You’re the only one who thinks so.”

  “That’s why they’re bringing in John Stevens. He’s a civilian, not Army Corps like we really need, but he cut his teeth on the Great Northern Railroad, he knows what he’s doing. He says we can’t build a sea-level canal either.” Ben rolled his eyes and laughed lightly. “Poor Stevens hasn’t even arrived yet, and is already having a fist-fight via telegrams with Congress, with the Army Corps and with the president himself about the best way to build the canal. Mr. President prefers detonations through shale. It yields visible though impermanent results.”

  “When do you think you’ll know if you lost your job?”

  “But Stevens asked him,” Ben continued, “do you want to build the canal in ten years or fifty? Because that’s what’s at stake. Do you want to spend two hundred million dollars or four billion? Because that’s what’s also at stake.” Ben shrugged. “I give poor Stevens a year, two at most.”

  “Ben,” she was concentrating, “what are you talking about? How can you build a canal that’s not sea-level?”

  “You’re absolutely right.” Ben spaced his hands on the table, three feet apart, palms down. “But what do you do when the left side”—he raised his left hand eight inches off the table—“is that much higher than the right side?”

  “Sea-level is not level?”

  “Correct. The Pacific has more salt. So it’s less dense. It has stronger currents. So it’s higher on that end and lower on the Atlantic side. The canal would have to be built much wider than we’re planning, to accommodate the changes in the water flow. But there are mountains and a lake in our way.”

  “Ben … it sounds insurmountable,” said Esther. “You know, I’m sure the Army Corps will transfer you back. There is so much you can do around here.”

  In a familial amused gesture, Ben patted Esther’s constricted fist. “Est, you want me to leave too? Stevens will have no one left to help him. I’m the guy on the ground, the guy who’s been there from the starting gun of American involvement. I can’t quit now. Not when doom and failure are so close. Who will they blame when it all turns to dross?” He squeezed her fist. “Tell me about Harry. How has he been?”