Spirit of the Nation ★ Female America

8. Death of a Nation

July 20, 1932

Undisclosed Residence

Ottawa, Canada

The banner on our food drive table waved in the summer breeze. The street corner was shaded by sprawling oak trees whose leaves whispered above us. When I spotted a well-dressed housewife hurrying home across the street, I stood and waved my hand.

"Say, ma'am!" I called. "Do you have anything to spare for the sick and needy?"

She reluctantly began to cross the street.

The 1930s were a miserable, miserable time to be alive. The 1929 US market crash triggered an economic crisis that ripped across the world. Every nation felt the sting of high unemployment, low wages, bank collapses, and mass panic. On top of that, Japan was invading China, civil war was erupting in Spain, and strange things were happening in Russia.

At home, President Roosevelt worked tirelessly to ease the suffering of the American people. During our weekly private meetings, he often wept.

Canada happily sorted the lady's five-dollar donation into her cashbox. "Do you still live at the White House full time, America?"

I leaned back to recharge for the next unsuspecting housewife. "Uh, yes. I do."

She frowned in surprise. "I found it difficult living at the Hill. It seemed like I was always working."

I nodded tiredly. "I know exactly what you mean."

When a telephone rang out from the open door behind us, she popped up to answer it. I uncrossed my arms and sat up, vigilantly scanning the sidewalks of the upscale neighborhood.

"America, it's for you!"

"Washington?"

She descended the front steps, holding her sundress as it fluttered about her knees. She sealed her lips. "Mhm."

Canada's townhouse was a few decades out-of-date, but it was indeed her own. The colorful artwork and whimsical decor scattered around the house reflected her personality. I picked up the old candlestick telephone from its claw-foot table and lifted the earpiece.

"Hello?"

"I'm curious," said a voice with a foreign accent. "Do you run when you hear the words 'call waiting' or just 'from London'?"

A smile bullied its way onto my face. "England," I greeted. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Prussia has died."

I sank down onto the floral couch behind me as my eyes widened in shock. I was aware of Prussia's decline in recent years, but picturing the death of a Nation was beyond the pale.

"What on Earth do you mean?" I breathed.

"Earlier today, the German Chancellor led a coup to abolish the legislature of the Free State of Prussia," he said in an unaffected voice. "Prussia took ill and died shortly thereafter."

I shook my head in disbelief. "That's terrible..."

"It was only a matter of time, of course. But the timing of it is concerning."

When I waited for him to elaborate, I created an awkward moment of silence. I sighed shortly. "Concerning how?"

"They're centralizing power," he answered. "I recently wrote to Germany about my concerns. I received a letter from him the other day, aggressively denying the accusation. An attitude which I resent, given the level of appeasement to which we have strived."

I raised my eyebrows. Germany had never written an untoward word to me, but then again, I didn't make a habit of accusing his government of corruption.

"His letters have been completely...normal," I offered.

"'Normal'?"

Closing my eyes, I attempted to visualize his latest letter. "He writes of the Olympics...he also asked after France."

"What about France?"

Feeling interrogated, I looked away in annoyance. "Whether or not he wished to attend the games."

"And what was your reply?"

"I told him to invite France himself."

"France burns his letters before opening them."

"I know that," I snapped. "I told France about it on a telephone call."

"When was this?"

"A few weeks ago."

Finally, he relented with a thoughtful hum.

"I'm surprised you weren't listening in," I added under my breath.

I heard the shuffling of paper over the line, leading me to wonder whether he was taking notes or just ignoring me. When he didn't respond right away, I became bored. "I have pressing matters to attend to," I said, standing to my feet. "'Til next time."

As I went to hang up, I heard, "America."

I put it back to my ear with a jerk. "What?"

"I appreciate your insight," he said, softer. "Thank you."

The temptation to say nothing in reply was too great to resist. The lever gave a satisfying click when I set down the earpiece. I relished the mental image of him gasping in offense.

Sinking back into the couch, I processed the news about Prussia with a deepening frown.