Presidential Shadows

by Michael Cantwell

Meeting a young George Washington and getting the signed ball was amazing. I arrived home, cold but happy. What made my day even better was the letter from Star waiting for me on the table. I ripped it open. She wrote that she, my brother and many of their friends went to all three Grateful Dead shows in Oakland. She also wrote that Phil Number Two met and tossed a Frisbee with his hero, Phil Lesh, the bass player for the Dead. She said, “It was cosmic, watching the two of them relate with each other using a circular piece of plastic.” Star always had a way with words.

  In the letter, she mentioned she enrolled in the Master’s Program at the University of Oregon. She was excited to begin in June. My brother was moving with her. She asked about Wendy and Bruce. She ended it telling me that she and Steve would be joining the Dead’s tour in Chicago. They would travel to North Carolina and to the Capitol Center in D.C before staying at our house.

  I folded up the letter and put it in the corner of my sock drawer with the other one she sent me. I wondered if she kept the two letters, I sent her. I turned on the radio to the FM station Steve told me about when he was home for the holidays. I smiled. I knew they would both be home soon.

  Grandpa and Grandma came over for dinner. Mom talked about her soap operas with Grandma. Dad talked about a young golfer named Tiger Woods who was playing on the professional golf tour. It was an uneventful dinner until Dad asked Grandpa a question.

  “What did the doc tell ya today, Pops?”

  “What do doctors know anyway? Let’s enjoy dinner,” Grandpa said.

  “They know a great deal, Frank,” Mom said. “What did he say?”

  “I don’t want to upset the boy,” Grandpa said.

  Upset me? They were talking at the table as if I were deaf. That alone should have upset me. However, I was curious why Grandpa was at the doctor’s office.

  I sheepishly asked, “Why did you go to the doctor’s, Grandpa?”

  “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Alex. When you were younger, I had a quick bout with cancer. They found it fast and cured me. Now, the doctor said it has returned. I feel fine. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “Pops, listen and do like the doc says.”

  “I will not. If I do, I will lose my hair and who knows what could happen to my teeth. I’ll beat this thing the same way I did the last time.”

  “No, you won’t, Pops. I spoke with Mom earlier. It’s advanced this time. You do as your doctor tells you even if you do lose your hair. Are you afraid Lonnie Anderson is beating your door down for a date? You don’t need your hair. You need your life.”

  Listening to the conversation scared me. I never knew anyone who died except on TV. Bruce told me his uncle died in Viet Nam before he was born. My grandfather Jack died, but I was too young to remember. I began to cry. I tried to hold it in but a few tears leaked out.

  “Alex, listen to me,” Grandpa said. “Your grandpa is going to be around a long time. Do you think I’m going to let just anyone dance with your grandma at your wedding?”

  “Grandpa, that won’t be for a long time yet.”

  “Amen to that,” Mom said.

  Grandpa snickered. “Amen to me living that long or that Alex doesn’t plan on getting married for a long time?”

  Mom frowned. “Why, both of course, Frank.”

  I left the dinner table before dessert. I headed to my room and tried to focus on my homework. It wasn’t an easy task. Grandpa was always around with an assuring smile and reassuring words. Life without Grandpa was unthinkable.

  I cracked open my assignment book from school. I noticed I had screwed up my dates. There was an English paper due in the morning. We had to write an essay on pen pals. We could pick anyone we wanted, but we had to say who we would pick and why. I knew most of the boys would pick Michael Jordan. Who knew whom the girls would pick? I could never figure out girls.

  I struggled to complete my assignment. The pressure of doing the essay at the last minute was hard enough but thinking about Grandpa made it harder. Then I remembered reading about two of the most famous pen pals ever.

  After John Adams became president, he and Thomas Jefferson rarely spoke, even though Jefferson was the vice-president under Adams. In those days, the man with the second most Electoral votes automatically became vice-president. When Adams was president, he fought for a larger centralized government. Jefferson wanted the states to keep more power. Jefferson was so opposed to Adams’ way of thinking that Jefferson found enough support to become the president after John Adams. Adams was only president for one term.

  After President Jefferson served two terms, he mentioned to friends how he respected Adams for being one of the original founders of the country and for all Adams had achieved. Adams spoke to friends about Jefferson as well. Possibly the most famous pen pals of all time were joined. Adams wrote his first letter to Jefferson on January 1, 1812, wishing Jefferson a safe and prosperous year. Jefferson wrote back to Adams. Their friendship grew through the power of writing letters.

  In their letters, they would debate politics, philosophy, literature, and other topics. The two former presidents continued to write one another until the 50th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. On that day, as Adams was dying in Massachusetts, he said in his last words how at least “Thomas Jefferson survives.” Because news traveled slower in their time, Adams was unaware that his friend Thomas Jefferson had died a few hours earlier.

  I knew unless something bad happened to me, I would live longer than Grandpa Frank would. I sat at my desk thinking about Grandpa and decided that he would be my pen pal in the essay. Only, we became pen pals after I was grown up in my essay. He would be my pen pal from heaven. Grandpa would write and tell me about all the interesting people he met in heaven. I would tell him how Grandma and the rest of us were doing on earth. I finished my homework, flipped off the lights and went to sleep knowing that Grandpa would always be around, even after he went to heaven.

  Spring break was approaching. The weather was beginning to warm. Bruce came over on Saturday to toss a baseball around. He wanted me to play in the summer league with him. We decided to get our arms in shape. We were playing catch on the front lawn when a beat up orange and white Volkswagen van puffing gray smoke and blaring music pulled to the curb. Bruce and I stood watching as the engine shut off. All the noises the van generated ceased. The side panel door slid open. Steve and Star jumped out.

  Steve came over and rubbed my head. “What’s happening, squirt? I hope Mom’s been food shopping, I’m starving.” My brother never was one for long chats.

  Star stood at the curb. A tall lean man jumped out from the driver’s side and walked towards us with Star. “Alex, I’m pleased to introduce you to Phil Number Two,” Star said. “We decided to save some cash by driving cross-country with him. The sights were awesome, but I could use a good night’s rest that’s not in the back of that van.”

  I looked at Phil Number Two. I looked at Bruce. He shrugged. I looked back at the tall man who appeared to be much younger than I had imagined from Steve and Star’s descriptions at Christmas. He had short brown hair with beads hanging around his neck. His designer sunglasses somehow seemed out of place on his nose. He wore blue jeans torn in both knees and sandals. After a quick hello, Phil returned to the van. On the back of his white shirt it said, “Last In-First Out, Local Crew, Spring 1992” with a red airplane in the middle of it. The airplane looked like one the Wright Brothers might have flown. He locked his doors and returned.

  “You can’t be too careful,” Phil Number Two said. “Even in swanky parts like these, I would hate for someone to try and steal Donna.”

  I looked at Bruce. He shrugged. I looked at Star. She smiled. “Donna is Phil’s van,” Star said.

  “Donna’s gotten me to over two hundred shows in thirty-seven states. If I could figure out how to get her to drive on water, I’d take her to Hawaii,” Phil said. “They don’t make machines like Donna no more.”

  I stood on the front lawn not knowing
what to do. I was sure it would be ok for Star to go inside the house. Phil Number Two, I wasn’t as convinced. I knew my parents could handle one hippie. I wasn’t so sure about two. This one even had a red peace sign dangling from the end of his beaded chain. How much peace, love and hippies could one house take?

  Thankfully, the decision was not mine. Mom came out on the front porch and invited Star and hippie number two into the house for lunch. Mom called Bruce and me for lunch too. Baseball season for us was still three months away. We had time to get our arms in shape.

  Mom rushed around the kitchen pulling cold cuts from the fridge and plates from the cabinet. “Ask everyone what they would like to drink,” Mom said. I looked at my brother’s two legs. They weren’t broken. Mom made me get the drinks all by myself anyway.

  Dad came home as we were sitting down for lunch. He joined us at the table. “Good thing you called me last night, Steven, to let me know you would be home today. It gave me time to go do some shopping this morning,” Mom said.

  “Yeah, I appreciate it, Mom,” Steve said. “If I have to eat another granola bar I’m gonna go crazy.”

  Dad glanced at my brother. “So, Junior, your mother tells me you’re moving to Oregon with Star. Have you looked into any job prospects?”

  “Yeah Dad. Star and I were up there finding a place to crash right before we made the trip cross-country. We go back to Oregon a week after we are done with his tour. I hooked up with a computer-training center. They’re going to train me to be a Microsoft technician.”

  “What’s that?” Dad asked.

  “Get with the times, Dad. Microsoft came out with this new thing called Windows. It’s gonna be the bomb. When people buy a computer, I’m gonna teach them Windows for twenty buckos an hour.”

  “You’re losing me, Junior. What’s a Windows?”

  Steve was right. Dad did need to get with it. Mr. Ramsey, our science teacher, told our class about how you would be able to write letters and do budgets on things called a personal computer. Microsoft made a new operating system that allowed that to be possible. Mr. Ramsey said it would replace DOS. I wanted my own computer but I knew it would take me years of helping the neighbors to earn enough money for a computer.

  Steve tried to explain computers to Dad until Phil spoke up. “He’s selling out to the suits. He’s going corporate on us.”

  “Knock it off, Phil,” Star said. “This is a good opportunity for Stevie and you know it. Our new Landlord won’t be as easy on us as you were if we’re late on the rent. This is the path Mother Nature has shown us.”

  “May I ask what do you do for a living, Phil?” Dad said.

  “I’m a stockbroker and I manage the apartment building where I live.”

  Dad laughed. “So you advise the suits what is a good investment in corporate America? Don’t you find that a bit hypocritical that you are getting on my son for working, yet you work in the world of high finance? My son needs a career in something, don’t ya think?”

  I looked at Bruce. We both shrugged.

  “Awe, Mr. Schuler. I didn’t mean no offense to your son. Yeah, I admit I’m a major league sell out. But, my father paid for college and bought my apartment building with the agreement that I would work for his stock brokerage firm for five years after I graduated. I had no choice.”

  Mom and Star laughed. “We all make our choices in life, Phil,” Mom said. I sat there remembering the time the Junior Achievement instructor came to class. He told our class the same thing. The better we do in school, the more choices we would have later in life.

  The others sat and continued to eat lunch. Phil only ate the cheese because he told Mom, “The sliced turkey is full of steroids and other things I would never put in my body.” Everyone else seemed to enjoy it. Bruce and I finished up, grabbed a cookie and went to my room.

  Later that afternoon, after Bruce had gone home, Star tapped on my bedroom door. “What’s been going on in this room since the last time I visited?”

  “It’s been pretty quiet,” I said. “Steve must have left bad mojo up here when he was home the last time. Not too many have been around to visit me lately. I did meet George Washington in the woods one day.”

  “That’s pretty rockin,” Star said as she sat in the chair at my desk.

  “So what goes on at these concerts you’ve been to, Star? Don’t you get tired of seeing the same band over and over?”

  Star giggled. “I guess. Unless you’re a Dead Head you wouldn’t understand. We meet so many people with the same understanding of the universe as Stevie and me. The Dead mix up what songs they play each night. Some bands will play almost the same songs in order night after night on tour, but not the Dead. I do admit, I’m starting to wear down from seeing them. I’m about ready to move to Oregon and start school.”

  Star looked around my room. I sat on my bed watching her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “Now this is how you get high, Alex. You connect with all that surrounds you. Between you and me, one of the main reasons I’m ready to stop following the Dead around is because of Jerry Garcia.”

  I inched closer to the corner of my bed. I was hoping to get a hint of Star’s perfume. “Why? What’s up with him? He plays guitar, right? His name is on those picks Steve gave me.”

  Star frowned. “Yeah, Jerry plays guitar and sings some of the songs. I can tell he’s fighting with his evil spirits. He’s not the same on stage. It always upsets me when I see people consumed with drugs. Don’t ever tell your parents, but your brother was a heavy pot smoker in college. I told him he could have his dope or me.”

  My ears perked up as Star continued. “Phil won’t tolerate drugs either. I’ve seen some nasty things because of drug abuse, Alex. If I ever find out you’re into drugs, you and me are no longer friends. Get high on nature is what I tell everyone.”

  I knew Star didn’t need to worry. “Nah, I don’t go near anybody who does drugs. Sometimes when I’m down at the park, some of the older kids are smoking something that doesn’t smell the same as cigarettes. Bruce told me they were smoking pot. Dad would whack my butt bright red and ground me for ten years if I ever went near those boys. This kid I know from school, Greg, he told me that he smoked dope one time. I think he was lying so everyone would think he was cool.”

  Star’s tone turned slightly angry. “That’s what I mean. It’s not cool to get high. It’s called dope for a reason. After you get to high school, kids are going to be busting on you if you don’t get high. It won’t be easy to walk away. I went through it. Drugs are everywhere, even at concerts. It’s really easy to give in to temptation thinking it will make you one of the cool kids. It won’t. I know it can be tough to stand up to peer pressure. However, being true to yourself, now that’s cool.”

  I wanted to change the topic. I reached into my sock drawer and pulled out the ball I had won for Star. “You might recognize the ball player who signed this for you. I won it because I answered ten questions about the presidents. It was no sweat for me. I want you to keep the ball.”

  Star flipped the ball to the sweet spot with the signature. She cracked open a wide smile. “No way, no way, really, really, Alex. This was signed by Will the Thrill Clark?” And you won it for me?”

  She jumped out of the chair and gave me a big hug. I could smell her perfume, though it was faint. Her hug gave me the same feeling she must have felt when she shook Mr. Clark’s hand in the movie theatre. I felt a sudden charge that stayed with me until the next day. I wished the hug could have lasted a lifetime but she sat back in the chair. She was still smiling.

  Star and I talked for a long time. I missed her. She told me how excited she was about going to school. I liked school but I was never as excited as she was. She told me how going back to school would help her get a job working at one the national parks. Eventually, Steve came looking for Star. They went out to visit with some of Steve’s friends. Phil left earlier to stay with his old college roommate.

  After Star and Steve left,
I was sad. I knew once she and Steve left in a few days, it could be years before I would see them again. Star and I promised to write and stay in touch. I sat looking at my book when I heard a voice.

  “Bully her,” a large man said sitting in the corner chair by the window.

  “She’s not a bully, mister. Who are you?”

  The large man laughed. “I didn’t mean she was a bully, young man. It means good for her. I heard your friend talking about achieving her goals by staying in touch with nature.”

  “Yeah, she really is into nature but please tell me who you are or why you’re here.”

  “The name is Theodore Roosevelt. You can call me Teddy if you wish. After all, that stuffed bear on your shelf was named after me.”

  I was confused. “My bear isn’t named Theodore.”

  Teddy shook his head and smirked. “No, son, Teddy Bears. I was on a hunting trip in Mississippi and they tied a bear to tree so that I could kill it. I found that unfitting for a sportsman and refused the shoot the animal. After that, stuffed bears were all the rage around the country. They were the original Teddy Bears.”

  “I guess that’s pretty cool. Did you ever shoot any other animals?”

  “Like your friend, I love nature. I am a big supporter of the national park system. I have written many articles supporting the outdoor life. To answer your question, the largest hunting expedition I went on was after my presidency. A group of us collected eleven thousand varieties of life from insects to elephants in Africa.”

  “Why would you kill that many animals, Teddy? That’s horrible.”

  “Many suggested the same thing. However, we did it for the Smithsonian Institute. The specimens were used in museums. It was for a good cause.”

  Mom walked into my room. “Time for bed, dear. Who where you talking with? Please don’t tell me you are talking with dead people again.”

  “No, Mom, the Teddy Bear.”

  ~~~*~~~

  Chapter Twenty Five