Chapter Thirty-six
Thousands of people waited at the national mall in anticipation.
“Is that a true story, grandpa?” A little girl in a bright yellow dressed asked an old man seated on a bench near the wading pool, the Lincoln Memorial, so close the man needed both hands to hide the dead president from sight.
The man looked at his descendent and smiled tenderly. “What do you think?” he asked in reply.
“Pay no mind to your grandpa’s stories,” the man’s wife said from the side of the bench with a playful pat on his shoulder.
He smiled at his wife, then looked at all the people surrounding them on the bright, warm day.
“True,” the little girl declared with the certainty of youth. A woman seated on the other end of the bench huffed disapproval despite her smile and the humor in her eyes. The man did not know the woman, but they were all there for the same reason. They all waited for the same event with the same hope.
“Look at all these people,” his wife said softly in amazement. “I’ve never seen so many of us in one place.”
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“Was Karl an evil man?” the little girl asked. With the effort of age, he lifted the child to his lap and helped her straighten her dress as he spoke.
“That is one question I have asked myself many times.” He replied sadly, his once black hair now white and thin, the lines of life etched deep into his face as he regarded his granddaughter with love. “I think he was until the end and there was nothing on God’s green earth that could stop what happened to him. If we live by evil and do evil, we become evil. That is a hard place to escape.”
“Don’t frighten the child, Silas.” She bent to look her husband in the eyes. “Not on this day.”
“The question I ask,” Silas asked his wife with a deep sadness, “is, did Karl know what he was going to become?”
“Dear.” She held a hand to his face, cupping his cheek. “He gave you a chance to live. That must be worth something to the Almighty.”
A gasp from the crowd drew their attention. A man was walking to the podium in front of the memorial.
“It’s him, it’s Reverend King,” excited voices said.
Her hand drifted to Silas’s ear, brushing the scars of flesh ravaged by frostbite. Kneeling, she faced her husband while a great man prepared to speak and her granddaughter touched a hand to the tear descending the woman’s cheek.
“When we stand before our maker, it will be the good we have done that shines bright. That man had one blinding moment of humanity before he died. Perhaps it will be enough to bring him peace.” She replied.
They held each other, a family alone amongst thousands of people standing close, the bond of love a truth in its own manner.
“Now shush,” she smiled and stood to watch the speech.
As applause and excitement claimed the multitude of people assembled in the mall; there were no winter storms on the horizon and for the moment Silas felt at peace in his skin.
The End.