Presidential Shadows

by Michael Cantwell

Ewing Township is similar to many areas in the northeast United States. Families are tight knit groups. I noticed after some kids grew up; they stayed close to home. Some bought houses on the same street as their parents. Some children never left home. Grandpa told me he worked in neighborhoods where the families lived in the same house for several generations.

  Grandpa loved telling me stories about how the neighborhoods formed around the Trenton area. People migrated from Europe in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s. Our family came to the United States from Ireland and Germany. They settled in New Jersey and the eastern region of Pennsylvania. Many families, who migrated from Europe, never left the first neighborhood they had settled in after leaving Ellis Island.

  Grandpa told me, “You can almost draw exact lines on a map, showing neighborhoods of different ethnic backgrounds. There are still areas in town dominated by Italians, some are Polish and still other areas, Irish and German. Though it is not as pronounced as it was in the mid 1900’s, the neighborhoods still exist.”

  Some afternoons on my way home from middle school, I stopped by the local park. Kids from different neighborhoods would show up. The one side of the park had swing sets and a little league baseball field. The other side of the park had basketball hoops. I liked to play sports. I knew I was never going to be as good as my brother. However, he was never as good of a reader as I was in middle school.

  I knew lots of good stuff. Don’t dare ask me the lifetime statistics of my favorite ballplayers. I knew all the stats by heart. My knowledge never impressed my friends, until the day after my tenth birthday.

  On that particular day, I was minding my own business, shooting some hoops. Greg Lewis wanted to bet my entire stack of baseball cards for his one Reggie Jackson rookie that I couldn’t answer three questions from the back of his cards. Knowing he was never the smartest of my classmates, I convinced him to tell me the three questions, before I agreed to the bet. Like a dope, he did. Some of his friends watched us make the bet.

  “First question, Schuler. What’s Steve Garvey’s lifetime batting average?”

  That one was too easy. Grandpa Frank was a lifelong Dodgers fan. I knew about the Dodgers. “Lifetime he hit .294,” I said.

  Greg frowned and peeked at the next card. “What about Rod Carew, what was his average?”

  I played second base in little league, the same position as Carew. He was one of my favorite players. “He’s a Hall of Famer. I know this one. He hit .343.”

  Greg picked up a rock and tossed it to the other side of the court. A couple of his friends laughed. With a rushed voice, he asked the third question. “How many home runs did Reggie Jackson hit, dirt bag?”

  “Wait a minute, Greg, that wasn’t one of the three questions you were gonna ask,” I said.

  “I can change the rules if I want. Get it right, or hand over your stash of cards, Schuler.”

  I looked at Greg, then his four friends standing next to us. I scratched my head a few times. Not because I didn’t know the answer. I was wondering if he would give me his prized card when I gave him the correct response. I wondered if he would try to pick a fight. Either way, I had to speak up.

  “Five hundred and sixty three big flies. Now hand over the card, Greg.”

  “You cheated!” Greg yelled out. “You musta looked at the card. There’s no way you knew how many home runs Reggie hit.”

  I laughed at him and said, “Last year when I went to see the Yankees, they played the A’s. My Dad bought me a program and it had all of Reggie’s stats in it, since he played for the A’s and the Yanks. They had a whole story on Reggie. Now hand over the card, cheapskate.”

  Everyone looked at Greg. “I’m not giving you this card,” Greg said. “You cheated.”

  Timmy Morrison spoke up. “He didn’t cheat, Greg. You’re a sore loser. Pay up.”

  I had a bad feeling Greg was going to punch me instead of handing over the card from the beginning. Greg was always itching for a fight. I was hoping the others would see what a jerk he was.

  “I’ll tell you what,” I said. “We have some leftover cupcakes from my birthday. If you eat one in school tomorrow, I won’t tell everyone you gypped me on our bet.”

  Greg looked around. He wiped his nose on his shirtsleeve. “My mom will kill me if I eat another one of your mom’s poison cupcakes.”

  “That’s ok,” I said. “I’d rather tell everyone that you lost fair and square and didn’t give me the card. No one will make bets with you ever again.”

  Greg raised his fist. I was nervous. I stood my ground.

  “Ah, you ain’t worth the effort,” he said. He lowered his fist.

  I wished Greg stayed on his side of the park. I never bugged him. After some, back and forth insults, Greg and his pals walked away. I was happy Greg looked like a fool in front of everyone. However, I sure wanted the Reggie Jackson rookie card in my collection.

  I shot a few more baskets before deciding to grab my school bag and sit on the bench. After reaching into my bag and reading a chapter in the new book Grandpa gave me, an old man appeared. This person seemed to care more about his suit than the other two men I met on my birthday. His clothes didn’t smell like smoke. His hair, though white like the other men I met, was brushed better. He had a kinder voice.

  “I don’t like returning to these parts of the country,” he said. “T’was a few miles over yonder that the Hessian shot me. Almost died from that wound.”

  It seemed to me these old guys liked to fight a lot. “Why would someone want to shoot you?”

  The old man smiled. “It was the day after Christmas. I sailed across the Delaware River with General Washington and the part of his army that could make it across the icy river. T’was a bloody cold early morning. History claims the battle of Trenton was over quickly. Time passed slowly for me. A Hessian soldier shot me in the shoulder. I lost a lot of blood. The Doc never believed I would survive. I proved him wrong.”

  I was confused. “What’s a Hessian? Why fight them?”

  “You have so much to learn, Alex. A Hessian was a hired solider from Germany. They were helping the British in the war against our independence. General Washington was our military leader in the fight for independence. He later became our first president. Don’t you know any of this?”

  These old men kept forgetting I was ten years old. I wanted to know more about history, but learning about fractions and where to put the decimal point was already kicking my butt.

  “I’ve learned some about George Washington in school. I know he has a town named after him because I hear Dad yell in the mornings while he reads the paper, “People in Washington must think we’re stupid.”

  The old man wiped some dust from his jacket sleeve and smiled. “Tell me, Alex, have you ever heard these words? We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

  “Nope.”

  “Such a shame. So much suffering occurred so those words could be written. I need to speak with your school officials. Those words were written by a gentleman by the name of Gouverneur Morris. They are the preamble to the Constitution of the United States of America.”

  “I don’t know who you think you are, mister, but you don’t need to go yelling at Principal Burrell. Mom says he does a good job.”

  “Be that as it may, you are not just any student, Alex. Samuel Wilson has sent me to speak with you. You were born to lead.”

  “Mom tells me that too. I don’t believe her. I can’t even get Greg to hand over his Reggie Jackson rookie card that he lost fair and square.”

  The old man frowned then said, “You must have big dreams to accomplish big things, Alex. Many around me didn’t think it was possible, but President Jefferson sent me to France to help negotiate buying the Por
t of New Orleans. Napoleon Bonaparte, who was the leader of France, decided to sell the United States all of the Louisiana territory. My wife and I enjoyed our time in France. The exquisite wine and the clothing made it difficult for my wife to leave.”

  I noticed a smile on his face as if he were remembering his days in France. I was afraid I would upset him when I told him that Louisiana was smaller than Texas. I thought he was bragging too much.

  “By the look on your face young man, you haven’t learned about how this country nearly doubled in size by purchasing that territory from France. Have you?”

  “No, but I can count to ten in Spanish, can you?”

  “Spanish?” The old man said with a quizzical voice. “Why would you learn Spanish? When I was President, we bought land down south called Florida from Spain. Did the Spanish return? You must be mistaken, Alex. I had my Secretary of State, John Quincy Adams assist me in preparing a speech. I stated the United States would not interfere with any wars or settlements between the Europeans and other nations, if those same nations no longer attempted to colonize any land in North or South America. My plan worked. Though I must admit many before me, including General Washington and Thomas Jefferson, had the same idea.”

  I smirked. “I needed your plan an hour ago when I wanted Greg to stay on his side of the park. Your plan musta worked too much because Dad always says, “If you want a good meatball sub you have to travel across town to where all the Italian places are.”

  The old man shook his head at me and smiled. “That wasn’t my plan, Alex.”

  It was late. I needed to get home for dinner.

  “Thanks for talking with me, mister. I don’t know how you knew my name but you never did tell me yours.”

  “Monroe, President James Monroe. We will meet again. Possibly you can explain to me what a Reggie Jackson rookie card is, and why you would seek to claim it.”

  I was late for dinner. Grandpa Frank’s brown Buick was parked in the driveway behind Dad’s work van. I figured he and Grandma Marie were over for dinner. They came at least once a week.

  “You’re ten minutes late, young man,” Mom yelled as I entered the front door. “Get washed up and join us at the table.”

  I took one look into the dining room table to see Dad’s face. I hustled into the bathroom and cleaned my face and hands before sitting down.

  “Where have you been?” Dad asked with an upside down smile. “You know dinner is at six sharp, not when you decide to come home.”

  “I was at the park. I bet that jerk Greg Lewis I could answer three questions about baseball. When I won, he wouldn’t give up his side of the bet.”

  “Wait, you correctly answered three questions about baseball? That’s ma boy.” Grandpa said. “I worked at Ebbets Field ya know. I’ll never forgive O’Malley for moving Dem Bums.”

  “Yes, Pops, we all know about how you sold popcorn for the Dodgers till they moved.” Dad replied. “We’ve heard the story a million times about how you played street ball with Gil Hodges in the offseason in the streets of Brooklyn.”

  “Well it’s true.” Grandpa fired back. “Players today, they make too much dang money. I was reading the sports section this morning. The Mets are paying that Strawberry kid almost four million dollars this year to play ball. Can ya imagine? Have these owners lost their frigging minds? Duke Snider never made that kind a dough and he was one hellava ballplayer. How many sinks you gotta crawl under to make that type of dough?”

  Dad shook his head before taking a bite of meatloaf. The room went silent for several minutes as everyone enjoyed their meal. I was happy the pressure was off me. That was until Grandma Marie brought up the topic again.

  “So why wouldn’t that boy honor his bet, Alex?”

  “Awe, he’s a deadbeat, Grandma. Greg’s been picking fights with me since he moved here a couple a years ago. I wish he’d go back to wherever he came from.”

  “That’s enough from you, Alex.” Mom said. “I’ve met his mother a few times. She’s a lovely woman. You are forbidden to take anything from Greg. Do you understand? His family is not as blessed as we are.”

  “He lost a bet, Mom! I didn’t try to take it. I won it. I earned that card and he wouldn’t cough it up. Greg’s family needs to learn the laws around here and stay in their own neighborhood like my friend Monroe told me.”

  Grandpa Frank let out a muted chuckle. Dad looked up at the ceiling while Mom sternly said, “There are no laws forbidding anyone from moving from neighborhood to neighborhood. Tell me who this Monroe child is and I will explain our laws to him as well.”

  “I don’t know where Mr. Monroe is now. I met him at the park after Greg ripped me off but he vanished. Before he did, he told me that other countries can’t come to our area and pretend like they own the place. If they do, Americans will fight.”

  “Someone needs to remind Congress of that.” Grandpa said. “Darn foreigners are sneaking in here every night. Ya’ll remember Tom Waters from down the street from me? His son works border patrol, says nuttin they can do. Mark my words, if they don’t do a better job of checking who’s sneaking into this country, we’re all gonna regret it.”

  “They’re only coming here for a better life, Frank.” Grandma Marie said. “They need jobs. They need money.”

  “Our people need jobs too, Marie.” Grandpa Frank said.

  “Who wants cupcakes?” Mom asked as she got up from the table. I later hid one under the table so I could dare Greg to eat it the next day.

  After dinner, I went to my room and finished my homework. Mom came upstairs and made me take a bath even though I didn’t get super sweaty all day. I hated it when she would barge into the bathroom to make sure I cleaned behind my ears.

  “If you did as I asked, I wouldn’t have to check,” was her famous line.

  Mom left the bathroom. I hopped out of the tub with only a small cotton towel wrapped around my skinny waist. The mirror had fogged. I took my hand and wiped a spot to get a better view of myself combing my light brown hair. I sensed someone behind me. There was the outline of a man bending down to be almost eye level with me off to my left side. He was barely visible in the mirror. He was a very tall man with a long beard. It was difficult to view him.

  “Don’t be alarmed, Alex,” he said. “I bring news. You have been provided with all the information needed to remind our citizens we were brought together to form a more perfect union.”

  I wiped away more of the fog to get a better glimpse. “Who are you?”

  “Sam Wilson.” He faded away with the fog in the mirror.

  ~~~*~~~

  Chapter Three