Midnight Liberty League - Part I

by Brock Law

guidance, but tempering in hardship, violently, that made their personality. That was their charisma. They treated him as the same.

  Greene motioned to their surroundings, “I suppose everyone is just seeking a little comfort.”

  “The pursuit?” Jefferson smiled. “Yes Nate, I think you are right. Too much comfort isn’t always favorable though.”

  Wayne agreed, “And here we are. Back where we started.”

  “In a manner,” Jefferson replied. “At least the food is still good.”

  Washington smirked, “Certainly better than what we had at Valley Forge. A satisfied stomach doesn’t make vigilance any easier though.”

  “Really? You should see what the linebackers get to eat,” Will added, delighting the Generals.

  Greene chuckled, “I’m with you Will. I never turn down a hot meal. You don’t always have the opportunity when life gets tough. I learned long ago how important it is to make up for each missed communion. Too many winters away from home will remind you.”

  “Cheers,” Washington held his glass up.

  With an overtone of thankfulness, they all toasted in perfect unison.

  Washington looked strangely at Jefferson, “Ale, Tom? I thought wine was a necessity of life?”

  “Did I say that?” Jefferson asked.

  “Once or twice,” Washington reminded him with a smile.

  “Must be true then. However, beer softens the temper, cheers the spirit and promotes health,” Jefferson grinned and took another drink.

  Wayne drank as well, then worriedly changed the subject, “The length of this endeavor is getting abusive. I’m used to being met openly. It makes me wonder at Lafayette’s state if he’s been captive for so long.”

  Washington responded, “The burden of this ordeal is certainly becoming cumbersome, and its end still appears distant. Unfortunately, we can spare no expense. The cost of exposing the artifact would be catastrophic.”

  “Gentlemen, I’ve begun to consider that seclusion may elude us this time,” Jefferson said gloomily. “Even if we can rescue all offended parties and evade the embezzlement of the Grail, the eradication of the knowledge of its existence will be impossible. At every immortal turn, there has been some aggressor intent on disrupting its possession. With the rate at which information currently travels, the next slip will be the one that illuminates everything.”

  “Illumination seems so frequently to demolish what exists,” Washington said. “An interesting choice of words Tom.”

  “It was intentional,” Jefferson replied.

  “One half glory, one half guilt,” Wayne reflected. “What a chore immortality can be.”

  “Which is why we as men cannot make this decision,” Greene asserted.

  “Despite what we spent our lives building,” Jefferson said, “a departure of sole authority is somewhat relieving.”

  “But that doesn’t reduce our responsibility,” Will said.

  The four immortals looked at him with slight surprise and contemplated silently for a moment. Collectively, their heads tilted forward as they realized the truth in Will’s comment. Jefferson and Washington shared a pleased look.

  “Spoken like a true play caller. Then I’m confident we have the right man for the job,” Washington complimented.

  A young woman dressed in a modest colonial maiden’s wardrobe arrived to take their order. Having only drunk so far that evening, they eagerly requested a couple of courses to begin. Another round of beer arrived shortly thereafter, which spurred another toast before food was brought. Again, exactly the way Will had come to expect, each man’s fare was a statement on his upbringing centuries ago. With respect to the first and third Presidents’ comments on the matter, people’s tastes didn’t seem to change all that much. Wayne’s plate was meaty and starchy. Greene’s was similarly savory but seasoned. Washington’s was wild, freshly caught and rich. Jefferson’s was lavishly accented with uncommon spice and European dressing. Will opted for something seasonal and fishy.

  The night wore on as the company proved enjoyable for Will. Even Jefferson began to loosen up a bit after a few drinks and shared some personal anecdotes from the last hundred years. Each decade included another rift and reunion, until the country was capable of managing itself without patriarchal meddling.

  Before the 20th Century, warfare was always desperate, particularly for those who remained in the military. Protests, philosophical movements, political arrogance, governmental blunders and international relations were all hotly debated or openly mocked. Washington and Greene had condemnation for most, and Jefferson critiqued every famous personality that had come to prominence. His quotation was flawless, and his impression of Teddy Roosevelt was perfect. Will rolled with laughter as Jefferson pinched his nose to raise the tenor of his voice and recite descriptions of his Rushmorian roommate’s African hunting excursions. With the same zeal of mimicry, Wayne took pride in the customary spats he had with anyone who attained his strategic posts, Grant and Patton included.

  Will noticed that they remained quiet on their affairs during the Civil War. Wayne, however, made a few allusions to their separation during the 1860s. A series of fiery arguments and public brawls caused them to go their separate ways for a time. Even the Virginians didn’t talk to each other during the conflict. Later, it was the allied fighting in Europe and subsequent nationalism that finally brought them back together. While Washington seemed committed to forgiveness for the sake of unity, some relationships still appeared to be strained.

  Sports analytics was a staple amongst them as well. As they frequently mentioned, the only thing left to do if you couldn’t participate in modern affairs, was to watch and gamble on it as often as possible. To the present day, Washington regretted his premature divestiture from the unprofitable beginnings of the first professional baseball league. Franklin liked to message him about it every time the Phillies won. In the same fashion, Jefferson bragged about his and Franklin’s encyclopedic memory for the minutia of modern trivia. Whenever he came to visit, they dominated Quizzo contests across the city.

  Apart from the childless Washington, they commonly remarked on the expansion of their genetic lines, gossiping both favorably and otherwise on the success of descendent familial branches. Will couldn’t help but be entertained by the absurdity of whose great-great grand something-or-others were in the most prominent schools, biggest companies, or had the highest sales in the entertainment industry.

  They joked with Will, evoking what words his ancestors might say about him while sitting around a dinner table. While mostly funny and good spirited, there was something about it that made him uncomfortable. It was the same nagging question he’d had since his journey began. Why was he here and none of the representative generations of the immortals themselves? In what way he belonged amongst them had not revealed itself. This doubt continually perplexed him. He couldn’t decide whether he was truly a useful contributor, or the latest sacrifice in the battle between good and evil. He knew an answer was looming.

  After they had devoured everything that was delivered to the table, they noticed that the restaurant was clearing out. It was 11, and apart from the staff, they were the last ones left upstairs. Gorged sighs bubbled up as conversation tapered.

  “So that we don’t get tossed out, how about a last drink in the owner’s lounge,” Wayne affectionately referred to the basement that connected to Franklin’s house via tunnel.

  Jefferson checked his watch, “Sounds fine. I didn’t have anything else in mind.”

  After the bill was paid, the table was abandoned for the solitude of the hidden tavern within. As with many colonial establishments, there was a separate stair case for servers to travel unnoticed throughout the building. This particular one originated right outside the second floor dining room, behind an alcove used to hang coats. As the men filed out into the hallway, each took a look into the adjacent rooms for anyone who might be aroused by their strange activity. There was someone bumping around in the pantr
y, but otherwise the floor was vacant. Washington approached the paneled door and yanked on the latch. Tightly, they descended the creaky stairwell that was barely wide enough to carry up a tray of food. Two flights down, they emerged into the worn cellar where Will had originally encountered Greene and Wayne.

  The subterranean coolness of the room provided instant relief. Wayne made for the bar. He filled a glass for each of them and returned to the group who had reconvened by the mantle. Lounging in a ring of chairs, they held their glasses up again and took a collective swig. Silence followed a dozen eager gulps. The men stared into the vacant fireplace.

  “So William,” Jefferson inquired, “we’ve dished on ourselves and everyone else you’ve ever had to study in history class.”

  “And my vision of the past is ruined now, thank you,” Will laughed. “It’ll be impossible to separate truth from legend if anyone ever asks.”

  The four immortals chuckled as Jefferson continued, “I hadn’t considered that. You’ll just have to play dumb in class then.”

  Wayne remembered, “I met John Heisman once, Will. He was a product of Penn football as I recall.”

  “He was,” Will affirmed. “What was he like?”

  “Insightful in discussing strategy,” Wayne recalled.

  Greene added, “Too bad there were no collegiate athletics in our time. You would have made a fine coach,