What Is A Legacy?

Chapter Five

Thomas knew this meeting was going to be a disaster from the moment he received Washington's letter. And now, throat sore from yelling over Hamilton's, he wished he'd never agreed to show up. Sitting in the chair next to Burr with arms crossed, he raised an eyebrow at Hamilton. He was certain the rest of the cabinet members had the same expression as him.

"Wake up, Jefferson. We're talking about the present here, not the past," Alexander snapped. "Get your head out of the seventeen-eighties and start focusing on now. We're trying to build a real nation here, which you don't seem to be too keen about. I mean, if you can barely get through a day's worth of letters, I don't really have a lot of hope about your success in any other department."

Laughter from Hamilton's supporters reverberated around the small space, only stoking the flame in Thomas's chest.

Thomas leaned forward, suddenly glad there was a table dividing the two of them. "You imply I'm being lazy and ignorant, and yet I don't see you doing half the work I've been doing, Treasury Secretary," Thomas growled, hands balling into fists. "You've been breathing down my neck as my self- appointed supervisor, carrying out Washington's orders like a puppet, which appears to be all you're good for."

Hamilton spluttered, opening his mouth to cut him off. But Thomas wouldn't back down.

"You go off on so-called business trips and leave me to pick up your slack, writing all the letters and taking down all the numbers you're supposed to be in charge of. But that's not the point. For the sake of our nation, put aside your ego and focus on the matter at hand. France needs the help you promised."

Soft murmuring amongst cabinet members made a nice harmony for the verse Hamilton was about to spit.

"We're too weak to offer aid to France!" he said, exasperated. He motioned with his hands, trying to emphasize his point, but it just looked like he was shooing away flies. "How do you not get it?" He looked over at Washington, who only shrugged. And that told Jefferson all he needed to know: Hamilton was on his own, at least for now.

Thomas stood from his chair, crossing the room to the table someone had wisely put between the two men. But Thomas doubted all it would be good for was a launching pad for one of them. Hamilton strode towards him as well, and the two met nose to nose.

But Thomas continued. "The only thing I understand here is that you're willing to abandon the promises you made to our allies. They gave us money, guns, and half a chance, all of which you're so quick to overlook when they ask for our help. They fought with us when times got hard, trained us, fed us, healed us. They lost troops and supplies for a cause that wasn't theirs, all without complaining and only a promise that we would lend a hand if they needed it. Well, they need it now."

Alexander crossed his arms. "Don't lecture me about the war, you didn't fight in it. You don't know what went down out there."

Jefferson curled his lip at the man. "Your personal experience brings nothing to this table, Alexander. I'd suggest you pull your own head out of the past, shake off your pride, and open your eyes to the promises you don't want to keep." He pushed a hand through his hair, frustrated. It was either his hand through his hair or his fist through his opponent's face. Alexander was blind to his own faults, blind to everything except what he wanted to see.

"Stop being so reckless, Jefferson. You're willing to sacrifice the lives of husbands and fathers for the sake of a rebellion that will probably die down in a week. " Alexander threw his arm up, motioning to something that wasn't there. Like his common sense.

Jefferson leaned closer. "France did the same for us. If we don't help, people will die. Not just soldiers, but mothers and children too. I don't think you want that on your conscience."