The Lost Journal

by Chris Blewitt

  “That’s some story, Arthur. Is Dub-Dub still alive?”

  “Beats me,” he said. “That was the last I ever talked to him or saw him. I thought about giving it back but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.” Arthur leaned against the window in the back seat and stared at the empty fields. They were through the Baltimore tunnel and less than an hour away from Mount Vernon.

  <><><><><>

  Secret Service Agents Kohler and Pierce trailed about five miles behind Madison. Kohler was driving and Pierce had his laptop out plugged into the cigarette lighter to keep it charged. He had a wireless card in the USB slot that gave him constant internet connection during their trip. He was using a software package that allowed them to trace the car’s route down to the tenth of a mile. This was something not available to the general public, strictly government use. Every now and then, he would change websites and look at ESPN.com. That is, until Kohler would catch him and he got back to trailing them.

  “How’s a screw-up like you end up in security detail for the VP?” Kohler asked.

  “I take offense to that,” Pierce responded.

  “I call them like I see ‘em, Pierce. You’re overweight, you’ve only been an agent seven years, and you’re a hothead.”

  “Well, this time, I won’t argue with those points. Between you and me,” he lowered his voice, “my dad was in the same fraternity as Castle. Skull & Bones, ever hear of it?”

  “Shit yeah, the Bush’s were in that up at Yale. All these political guys were in that fraternity. Same time?”

  “Nah, Castle has five years on my dad. But, he called in a little favor and here I am.”

  “Aren’t I lucky.”

  “How about you? You’ve been doing this eighteen years. How come you don’t have the big guy as your detail?” Pierce asked.

  Kohler thought for a moment before responding. He didn’t need to tell his partner anything but he did anyway. “I’ll never get the POTUS detail. About ten years ago, I had security detail for him when he was first running in the primary as Governor of New Jersey. As you know, everyone that has at least a shot at becoming president gets security detail from the Secret Service.”

  “Course,” Pierce chimed in, like he knew everything.

  “Well, here I am guarding this guy on his campaign trail, which he obviously lost, and we’re stuck in a massive snow storm in Newark. Well, he pulls me into his hotel room and…”

  “And what?”

  “He asks me to get him a hooker,” Kohler said.

  Pierce laughed out loud. “That’s great, what’d you say?”

  “I told him I wouldn’t do it.”

  “Damn, really?”

  “Yeah, man. Here this guy is, running for the office of President and he wants a hooker during his layover.”

  “That took some balls.”

  Kohler nodded. “Maybe I should have, I don’t know. Maybe I’d be his right hand man during his Presidency.”

  “Yeah, but you could’ve blackmailed him. You could’ve insisted you get on his detail.”

  “Believe me,” Kohler said, eyes straight ahead on the road, “he asked me to be on his detail the week after he got elected. He almost begged me, knowing I could ruin him. But I resisted. I didn’t wanna work for a prick like that.”

  “Instead,” Pierce laughed again, “you’re working for a prick like Castle.”

  “They’re all pricks, Pierce. Every last one of them.”

  They drove in silence for a while until Castle called him asking for an update. They said they just crossed into Virginia and were making their way on the Beltway, about three miles behind the car. The traffic was light, which was surprising for DC. They knew in less than an hour it would be bumper to bumper as everyone made their way home. Kohler still couldn’t figure out where the car was going. Maybe they were running. Just driving south for Florida? That all changed a few miles later when they pulled off an exit that said, “Mount Vernon”.

  CHAPTER 18

  Large aircraft flew in low from the east as they parked their car in the visitor’s lot. The roar was loud enough, in certain cases, to cause most people to look up into the sky as the military aircraft made their way to nearby Davison Airport at Fort Belvoir. Ever since 9/11, people had their guard up whenever a plane could be seen or heard at such an altitude. Fortunately, nothing like that atrocity had happened again. Seth looked up and saw a large C-130, bank ever so slightly north, and continue its decent toward touchdown.

  The parking lot at Mount Vernon was almost full with cars showcasing license plates from all over the east coast. Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Virginia, DC, even one from Georgia. Yellow school buses parked neatly in a row towards the back of the lot, their cluster taking over one third of the available spaces. Seth and Madison got out of their car as Arthur snored softly in the backseat.

  “Should we wake him?” Madison asked.

  Seth shook his head and said, “Nah, let him sleep. Lock the doors, crack the windows and we’ll come back and get him.”

  She pushed the button on her keychain and the headlights blinked twice in recognition. They looked around and saw people walking around in small groups. They followed them to the admission gate, bought their tickets and walked through a building and out the other side onto the Mount Vernon plantation. They followed a path with an eight foot high stone wall on their left that enclosed a few sheep, and gardens on their right. As they came around the wall, they could see the house that was called Mount Vernon. Some people stopped to take pictures; others just gazed at the large house on the top of the hill. There were a few different buildings that comprised Mount Vernon. The largest was obviously the house, the others were smaller, a few barns, an outhouse, etc. They talked it over in the car and realized they had no idea where to look, so they started walking up the stone walkway toward the house.

  It was a mansion by any respect—three stories tall, but wide with large white pillars that separated the porch from the second floor. Two chimneys towered on either end of the house and a glass enclosure stood in the middle of the roof, looking almost like a lighthouse. They got in line to enter the house and were soon handed a brochure from a young woman at the front door.

  They first walked through the slave quarters which were small and then proceeded to enter the house through the back door. They stood in the downstairs foyer with about eight other people, all starting the tour. An elderly woman stood there and waited until the door closed before she spoke. “Welcome to Mount Vernon, home of our Founding Father, George Washington,” she began. “Feel free to look into the rooms on either side.”

  The rooms were blocked with velvet ropes so that you could not enter them but Seth and Madison peeked into the rooms, one by one, while the woman continued talking. All of the rooms were small and the first one on the right had a tiny piano in it as well as a small eating table. Past that was another dining room and across the hall a third eating area. The first room on the left had a small bed in it and all four rooms had fireplaces.

  “One of the first things George Washington did was double the width of the staircase. As you walk up the stairs, feel free to touch the railing and imagine who might have touched this railing before you.”

  As they walked up the stairs, Seth put his hand on the railing and looked up at the ornate plaster designs on the ceiling. They reached the second floor and a chubby fellow stood at attention waiting for everyone to arrive.

  “Here you have five of the nine bedrooms in the house. Another three are located upstairs. At one point, six-hundred guests stayed here over the course of a year, so you can imagine the need for all the rooms.”

  The landing was small and they weren’t allowed to step into any of the rooms which frustrated Seth and kept him from looking at anything of importance.

  “The crib you see here was for Martha’s grandchild who stayed in this room,” the man said. “If you continue along the hallway you will see the private wing that George had built
in 1774.”

  They followed the group of people and stopped outside of another bedroom where they were greeted by an elderly woman.

  “This is the private bedroom of George and Martha Washington,” she began.

  Madison peered in and whispered to Seth,” Pretty cool, eh?” It was much larger than the other bedrooms and featured two walk-in closets in the back. A teenaged boy to her right pulled out his smart phone and aimed it at the bed.

  “Please, no pictures!” the woman said abruptly.

  “Although it doesn’t look like it, this bed is actually the largest in the house at six and a half feet in length. This was to accommodate George’s six foot two height. This is also the bedroom where George died with Martha by his side. As was custom in the day, she moved immediately from this room to a bedroom on the third floor. Ninety percent of what you see here has been untouched in over two-hundred years.”

  Seth and Madison took their time looking around. It had a seating area and a walk-in closet, unlike the other bedrooms. They followed the group back to the first floor where they saw Washington’s office. Another gentleman told them about the four desks in the room and the large glass bookshelves. On their way outside, they passed a small kitchen.

  “Seth, there’s no way we’re going to find anything here. We don’t even know where to look, and besides there are guards everywhere,” Madison pleaded.

  He looked around, trying to decide what to do. They could check out the other buildings, but he didn’t even know what they were looking for yet. Something kept drawing his eye back to the path they had come up. He pointed his finger. “Let’s walk over there.”

  They walked the same path and turned left down a steep hill. Cows grazed to their right and they turned left at the dirt turnoff and followed the walkway to a red brick one story-building with an American flag out front. Two large obelisks stood outside the tomb of the first president.

  “On the right is George Washington and on the left is his wife Martha,” said a voice from behind. They turned and saw a tall, elderly black man standing behind them with his hands behind his back. He was dressed in the security detail that they saw at the front gates.

  “How’d they die?” Seth asked.

  “Oh, natural causes. Back in the early eighteen hundreds if you were ill, chances are you succumbed to pneumonia.”

  “Is it true that Bushrod Washington inherited Mount Vernon?” Seth asked.

  “Sure is,” the man responded. “Homes and plantations were passed around a lot in those days. People died and it was passed to the next generation. Why the interest in Bushrod?”

  Seth and Madison just looked at each other, not knowing how to respond. “Just curious, I guess,” Seth said.

  The man looked at them. “You look familiar, ever been here before?”

  Seth shook his head and before he could respond, another voice came from the entryway, this time more familiar.

  “There you are!” It was Arthur, walking toward them. “I’ve been looking all over for you. How dare you leave an old man in the car with those maniacs out there!”

  The older black man turned and stared at the man that just walked into the open-air tomb. He locked eyes with the new guest and his mouth opened wide. “Arthur,” he managed to say.

  Arthur stared back in disbelief and said, “Dub-Dub.”

  <><><><><>

  Updates were pouring into the cell phone of Vice-President Castle. His assistant/mistress walked in and even she got nudged away. The first report came in that Kohler and Pierce followed them to Mount Vernon, the site of George Washington’s house and burial site. His men didn’t follow them in the house, just waited outside in the parking lot. All the while, Bannister was calling from London so that he could update his team.

  Castle considered lying to Bannister. He didn’t want a full scale shoot-out on the grounds of a National Landmark. In the end, he updated Bannister who in turn updated Max, Evan and Chloe, who were about twenty minutes behind his security detail. Kohler had called again, upset that the Brits were there too, but Castle ignored him and told him to finish the job. He didn’t give a damn who found the document.

  CHAPTER 19

  The sun dove into the west darkening the tomb. A chill filled the air as the two men stared at each other for a few moments and recognition set in. One, a black man, was staring at his former Marine buddy from thirty years ago. The other, the man who had stolen his family heirloom, was staring right back. Arthur felt some type of embarrassment. Did Dub-Dub know that he had taken the book? He decided not to broach the subject and instead, walked slowly forward, extending his right hand. The other man did the same. Soon they fully embraced and smiles engulfed their faces.

  “Damn, I haven’t heard that nickname in twenty years. Last reunion I guess. I go by Willie now. Speaking of the reunion, where the hell were you?”

  “Ah shucks, you know me,” Arthur responded. “I don’t much care to reminisce about the war. Hell, we lost a lot of good men.”

  “Damn right we did.” He turned to face Seth and Madison. “Your grandkids, Walt?”

  “Just the boy, and that’s his girlfriend.”

  Neither Seth nor Madison objected to the term. They still couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

  “So what are you doing here?” Willie asked.

  No one answered for a split second and Willie raised his eyebrows before Arthur spoke.

  “Just showing them around some historic sites, you know? What’s more famous than Mount Vernon, eh, Dub, I mean Willie?”

  Willie turned back to Arthur then swiveled his head over to Seth and Madison. “The hell you are,” he said. “All this interest about Bushrod Washington, now I know. Who the hell knew about Bushrod anyway? Not unless you are some history buff, which I know you’re not. But, it was in Washington’s journal in capital letters, wasn’t it Arthur?”

  The blood drained from Arthur’s face, and Willie jumped all over it.

  “You stole my book you son of a bitch!” He walked two steps and got right in Arthur’s face. “All these years I couldn’t figure it out. My house was never burglarized; I never got crazy phone calls or was followed. But you, you came down here, what twenty-five years ago and were late to that lunch that you arranged. You broke in and stole it, didn’t you?”

  Arthur turned and saw a group of people approach. Willie didn’t want anyone to hear their discussion so he walked away in the opposite direction. They followed Willie down the stone path that opened up into a large circular area with what appeared to be a memorial of some sorts in the middle. Willie stopped and paused. He bowed his head for several seconds as if in reverence. Seth and Madison looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. They were curious enough to walk into the center of the memorial and this time Seth read aloud, “In memory of the Afro Americans who served as slaves at Mount Vernon. This monument marking their burial ground dedicated September 21, 1983. Mount Vernon Ladies Association.”

  “Didn’t you?” Willie asked again. He lowered his voice and stepped away. “Your lack of an answer is proof enough.” He put his hand to his head and exhaled. “Can never trust anyone, can you? Man, Arthur, we were good buds in the Corps; I never thought you’d do something like this.”

  “I’m sorry,” was all Arthur could muster.

  They looked out through the trees at the Potomac River, a wide expanse of water that stretched all the way south to the Atlantic Ocean.

  Willie swiped his hand through the air. “What’s the difference now anyway? I’m too old to care about something so long ago. But, I wanted to hand that down to my daughter. You still have it?”

  “I’m sorry,” Arthur said again.

  Seth spoke up, “I lost it, sir.”

  “No you didn’t,” Arthur said, defending his grandson.

  “Yes, Granddad, I did. Well, technically, I didn’t lose it, I gave it away.”

  “What?” Willie exclaimed.

  “You see sir, we were being chased and
—”

  “Willie, you got a place we can talk?” Arthur asked.

  He scanned the faces of all three people before responding. He was older, yes, wiser, yes, but the kindness never left him. “My shift is over in fifteen minutes. We can go to my house only a few miles from here.”

  They started walking towards the exit when Arthur stopped Willie and apologized once more. Willie just stared into the empty eyes and shook his head.

  “Mind if I ride with ya?” Arthur asked.

  Willie thought for moment, rolled his eyes, and nodded toward the exit.

  <><><><><>

  “Here we go, mates,” Max said to the other four people. The Brits had met up with the Secret Service agents and they had hunkered down at a picnic table near a small food cart on the grounds of Mount Vernon. The guys had gotten hot dogs and Coke’s, and Chloe had a soft pretzel and bottled water. Surprisingly, they were getting along, for now. All five heads turned in the direction Max was looking and saw the three people they were chasing walking down the hill towards the parking lot. They were being led by a tall skinny black man.

  “Who’s the stiff?” Evan asked.

  “Beats me,” answered Kohler. He scrunched up his hot dog wrapper and downed the last bite. While they sat there killing time Kohler said, “So, you guys government, SIS, MI6, Interpol?”

  “Maybe they’re Scotland Yard,” Pierce joked.

  “Funny, fatso,” Chloe announced, causing murmurs of laughter around the table. “You don’t wanna know what we are.”

  “’Cause then you’d have to kill us, right?” Kohler said, humoring her.

  “We could kill ya anyway,” Chloe responded, “for being so incompetent that I had to fly across the Atlantic to handle two pips and their old man.”

  Pierce defended himself. “Incompetent my ass. We had the job in hand. We don’t need you limey bastards.”

  “Who you callin’ limey?” Evan said.