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Alexander was just running around their little place in Harlem. Where did he put his pack of paper again? He just wanted to write a letter to Lafayette to ask him if he had safely arrived in France.
To be honest, he was kind of worried about his favourite French. He shouldn’t be, Lafayette knew how to fight better than anybody else Alexander knew, maybe even better than Alexander himself, but it’s okay to worry for one’s friends, right?
After all, France wasn’t the safest place in the world to live in right now… Actually, it wasn’t really save to be anywhere right now, and Lafayette was striving for the French Revolution. But Alexander just wanted to make sure, that he was still alive and in one piece.
If he could find his paper, that is. Why wasn’t it on his desk, where it was usually always present for his ecstatic impulses of writing? He was quickly pacing the rooms of the little house and letting his eyes wander through every room, on the search for what he was looking for.
When suddenly a voice called for him. “Alexander?” Eliza did not sound too sure of herself and he wasn’t imagining that little urgency in the voice of his wife.
“Yes?”, he did not turn around to see her entering the room he was standing in because he was sure that the paper he was looking for was hiding in one of the drawers of their tiny sitting room.
“There’s a letter for you from South Carolina!” Why was she telling him that? She never did, when she saw letters lying on their table. He started to think of possible reasons why Eliza could be telling him that.
“It’s from John Laurens, I will read it later!” It must have been. In recent months his wife started to get a tiny bit suspicious of the eager letter-exchange him and John had going on. Oh God, hopefully she didn’t read the letter. She would not be happy of what she would find in those lines John wrote to him nearly every week…
If he thought about it, John was quite late with his new letter. It had been three weeks ago that he had sent the latest letter, begging him to join congress. Alexander’s heart started to beat faster at the thought of it.
What if John finally agreed to his suggestion? Clearly, he had to think about it for some time. It would have been a hard decision for him after all. John didn’t like the world of politics and he felt much more comfortable on the field, fighting for his believes and not holding a speech about them.
With his straight-forwardness and impatience he could never ever convince those stuck up politicians in congress, Alexander was sure of that. But that is why John had him, right? He had always done an excellent job of calming his best friend and expressing his feelings and thoughts for him in a more coherent way than he could ever manage to explain.
But at the end of the day: the war was over! There was no battle John could fight in right now, his only plausible next step was to return to New York and join Alexander again after all this time apart.
He could finally see him again after this long time and not only that: He had the chance to see him every single day for the rest of his political career! Jesus, he missed those wonderful brown eyes and freckles in his best friend’s face more than anything in the world. More than the Caribbean, more than his brother and maybe even a little bit more than his mother.
He needed to read the letter of John’s agreement later, when he was alone, because he could never read it in front of Eliza. He didn’t want her to see his face lightening up and didn’t want her to believe that John was more special to him than her. Which was true, but Eliza held no right to know this.
Furthermore, there still was the unlikeable possibility of John not agreeing to join congress. In that case Alexander would need to be alone in any case because crying in front of his wife was not in it for him. That would only prove that he was weak, which wasn’t true. Alexander was strong and Eliza knew that, there was no reason to prove her wrong.
“No it’s not!” What? From who was it then if not from his dearest John? The rising panic in his wife’s voice wasn’t too comforting either.
“It’s from his father.” That was it. He had caught them. Somehow he must have gotten a hold of his letters to John. His father had always suspected that something was wrong with John and he wasn’t too eager of his friendship with Alexander either. This was the letter of John’s father telling him to get lost and never write to his son again, Alexander was sure of it.
Eliza would be angry if she read the content of the letter but he couldn’t move a limb. It felt like he was made from stone, his heart had stopped beating but he still needed to hear this letter. So, he asked of his wife the only thing that made sense right now.
“Will you read it?”
She slowly opened the letter and took the piece of paper carefully into her delicate hands. After scanning it quickly Alexander did not miss the pained expression her face changed into before starting to read aloud in her bell-like voice as always.
"On Tuesday the 27th, my son was killed in a gunfight against British troops retreating from South Carolina. The war was already over.” Her voice was slightly shaking while reading the lines.
Silence. All Alexander could hear was silence. His thoughts were blank and his vision started to blur. What did his wife just read aloud? John was… John… dead? It must be a sick joke of her! It couldn’t be true.
Eliza seemed to hold back tears as she mumbled the last lines of the letter. "As you know, John dreamed of emancipating and recruiting 3000 men for the first all-black military regiment. His dream of freedom for these men dies with him.”
Was his heart still working? He couldn’t feel it, just a stabbing pain in his chest. He also seemed to have lost his lungs because his breath was missing. How was he supposed to breathe again when the reason he was breathing for had left him all alone? His knees felt useless as well as they slowly gave up what they were supposed to do. He was kneeling on the floor, his long hair hiding his face that was facing the ground. He closed his eyes and forced himself to take a careful breath.
No crying! He wasn’t giving Eliza another reason to believe that he was weak.
But… John. He was… gone? Is a person ever truly gone? What about legacy? Could he make sure that no one on this earth ever forgot the name John Laurens? Maybe then he would still be alive in people’s heads and fantasies.
He could never be forgotten! John and his fiery passion for absolute equality for every man needed to live on.
But still Alexander found himself staring at the carpet on the floor. No more letters, no more freckles, no more laughter. John would never join congress. He could never see him again.
He could never truly tell him how much he loved him, it was too late.
John's probable last moments shot through his head. He was alone. Maybe he was frightened. Or maybe he saw it coming. Did he run? Did he fight? Or did he let it be? Why did his time had to run out so fast? Did he even get his last letter? Maybe John could have been saved if he had left South Carolina earlier...
“Alexander, are you alright?” His wife was kneeling next to him and had an arm wrapped around his back. How did he not notice?
He considered her eyes. They held the wrong colour. Not chocolate brown. And her face was also wrong. No freckles and much too soft.
Alexander freed himself from his wife’s try of a hug and stood still, looking to the floor so that Eliza could not see his eyes that had started to water.
This was the moment that he finally found his pack of paper sitting in front of their fireplace.
“I have so much work to do.” He stated with a shaky voice and started to walk towards the fireplace, away from his wife, away from the letter.