My Guardian Angel//Lams//Post Laurens Death

Chaper Two

Alexander Hamilton
I ride towards South Carolina casually, though I really want to ride as fast as the wind. But I don't want to seem aggressive to anyone who may pass me, so I keep to the speed limit.

I recall the way to Henry Laurens's estate, somewhere in the heart of the city Charleston. This is where John grew up. At the thought of him, I tighten my grasp on the reins.

Please be here, I pray.

I make the turn onto Washington Way (one of the renamed streets) and stroke the side of my stallion's neck. She whinnies and shakes some dirt from her head. A few people on the street stop to watch me, probably because of my blue and bronze soldier's coat.

I smile at them and go a little faster. Usually, attention is something I'm grateful for, but it's not when I have a mission to complete.

The Laurens Estate has always been my favorite place, even above the home of the Schuyler's and Church's. John's father and mother, Henry and Eleanor, have always been so kind and welcoming towards everyone who crosses their doorstep. They're the first people I ever met without African-American servants. Surprising, yes, but they have John as a son.

The beloved dark green door came into view, a bronze lion knocker upon it. A balcony shelters the door, and a woman in a silk gown stood on it. I wave at her when I stop and she takes a good look at me. Eleanor Ball is suddenly full of energy, rushing down to the front door and opening it.

"Alexander!" she hurries out to me and I get off my horse. Eleanor wraps me in a tight hug. "Oh, Alex, how Henry and I missed you!"

"You as well, Mrs. Ball," I look at her dark eyes and light skin. She's the daughter of a black man, though she's also a 'pass' as they say. She looks white so she married into a wealthy white family and had my amazing John.

"Dear me, you must've come a long way," Eleanor's fake accent is pitch perfect. "Come inside, I'll get you something to eat."

I leave my stallion by the front step of the large estate and follow John's mother. Inside, it's the same as it always has been: dark walls, bronze lamps, gold sconces, newly polished floors, and white furniture (excluding the dining table).

"Come, make yourself comfortable!" Eleanor invites.

"Thank you, Mrs. Ball," I begin, "but I actually came to see how John is after the skirmish."

Eleanor stops what she's doing in the large kitchen. A glass plate is in her hand and she is simply staring out a window.

"Mrs. Ball?" I ask. "Are you...okay?"

She turns swiftly, back to me, tears in her eyes. She shakes her head and puts the plate down on a counter.

Eleanor comes to me and takes my hand. "Henry sent you a letter, did he not?"

"Yes, he did," I reply truthfully. "But I'm sure there's a mistake. I mean, John can't be... dead."

Eleanor smiles a little. "Of course it's you who suspects a mixup. Come, Alexander. I'll show you what John would want me to."

The way she uses John's name in the past tense scares me. Have I been wrong this whole time? Has he truly been killed merely by a few red-coats without a clue about the Revolution ending?

Eleanor drapes a small cotton shoulder scarf over her shoulders. I follow her out the side door and farther into the land the estate came with. She leads me deep into it, to the heart, where the Laurens Graveyard is, her bare feet making a little squelch sound with each foot-step against the grass.

"This is my Uncle Jack's grave," John said, his curly brown hair blowing over his blue eyes.

"Jack?" I repeated.