Hero's Respite

Even the greatest of men need a place to set the world they carry on their shoulders aside

Tad sat on top of a light brown horse with his legs barely reaching the stirrups. His papa should be about done for the day and ready to head to their summer cottage. Tad loved to accompany his father home from work and would often ride the three miles downtown, only to turn around and escort his papa back.

He finally saw the tall frame of his father descending the steps. He looked so tired, Tad thought. His papa's shoulders were slumped as if the weight of the world rested on him. His eyes drooped and he had deep creases that led from the corners of his nose to the corners of his mouth. Tad thought he looked ten years older since they moved here in 1861 though only a year had passed.

“Hello there, Tadpole,” his father called upon seeing his youngest son.

“Hey, Pa,” Tad answered looking at him adoringly.

“You ready to head home, Boy?”

The August heat was pressing in town, and the stench from the canal made the air seem heavier somehow, so Tad was anxious to be off. The three miles through the Maryland woods and hills made a world of difference.

“I sure am, Papa,” Tad nodded enthusiastically as he watched his father climb on top of “Ole Abe,” his gray horse.

This ride was always the best part of Tad’s day. He loved listening to his father's laugh. He also liked hearing the stories his father would tell, so he tried coaxing one out of him.

“Did you hear any funny stories today, Pa?”

“I’m glad you asked, Tadpole. I heard a doozy of a story about a man and a mule…”

They wound their way up the green trails as his father wove his yarn, and too soon they reached the crest overlooking their summer retreat. There were two large houses side-by-side and off in the distance, a massive graveyard. Old men were lounging in the shade of one house, and one of them, on crutches with his right pant leg rolled up, hollered a greeting to them both.

“Pa,” Tad asked, “How much longer are we going to stay here before we go back to our big house?”

“I don’t know, Son,” his papa replied, “maybe until October or November or so. Why? Don’t you like it here?”

Tad rolled his eyes. Though the past four months had been cooler here, they had been boring, and now his father wanted to stay another two or three months. Tad answered hoping that maybe any argument may convince his father to leave earlier, “I kind of like all the excitement and all the people back in town.”

His father quietly laughed. “I imagine you do, Son, but all that ‘excitement’ was wearing on me. I need this place to unwind a bit at the end of the day.”

Tad shrugged again, but realized his father was right. He wasn’t hounded day and night like his papa was by folks looking for jobs or wanting favors, and that was nothing compared to running a country or fighting a war.

“And you do have to admit,” his papa continued, “it is an awful lot cooler up here on this hill with all the trees and a nice breeze blowing instead on down in that swamp turned town.”

“I guess so,” Tad agreed, “but if you’re trying to get away from all those people why did you pick a place surrounded by all these old men?”

“They're not just any ole kind of old men, Tad, these guys were soldiers who have done their share of fighting. Some of them are too injured to fight anymore, but for most of them, they’ve turned the fight over to younger men. They’ve earned their stay here at the ‘Old Soldiers’ Home.’”

“Well I’m not arguing that, Papa. I just wonder why, if you’re trying to get away from people, that you picked a summer place right by a house for old army guys.”

“Well,” his pa replied while fiddling with his hat, “I don’t have to be formal up here with these men like I do in town. Plus, up here, it’s easier to invite visitors to supper and have them stay for the night since there’s plenty of room.”

Room there was, Tad thought. Not like in the big house, but the 18 rooms in this one was plenty big enough. His papa did love a relaxing evening with friends where he could entertain everyone with a poem or maybe tell one of his famous stories.

“Not to mention,” his father said with a wink, “it keeps you and your brother out of my hair while I’m trying to take care of business.”

***

Later that evening, Tad poked his head in his father's office to say goodnight. He came up behind him and gave him the biggest hug while looking over his shoulder at the crumpled papers on the desk, and another with a few lines written on it. He hadn’t been diligent in his studies as he should have been, so he couldn’t read his papa's words.

“What’s it say, Papa?” Tad asked.

His father started to read, “all persons held as slaves within any State…”

Oh, Tad thought, papa’s working on President Business.

He listened as his pa finished reading, “shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free.”

“What’s it mean, Pa?”

“It’s an order from me, Son, to free all the slaves,” his dad simply explained.

“Oh,” Tad answered, “why don’t you write it in your circle office?”

President Lincoln smiled and answered, “The Oval Office, Son, and I’m not writing it there because I can clear my head and think better up here.”

Tad still thought it was weird that his papa could “clear his head” at the “Old Soldiers’ Home,” but he smiled, and with a final hug for the night, headed to bed.


Tina B

Word count=982
Prompt: write a tale about a woman or man who spends time in a unique place while suffering and recovering from the slurs and pricks of life.

Note: Though the conversation between Thomas “Tadpole/Tad” Lincoln and his father, the 16th President of the United States, is fictitious, much of this story is true from Lincoln’s grey horse, “Ole Abe,” to his summer retreat at the “Old Soldiers’ Home” still in operation in Maryland. I have no idea how that man survived four years of leading a divided nation. Those closest to Lincoln wrote that the “Old Soldiers’ Home” played a key role in giving him a place to unwind and recharge from the monstrous pressures he faced day to day.

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