The World Was Wide Enough
~Ship: Logicality(Background)~
The pen dropped from his hand, and Roman Sanders collapsed to the floor, misery and pain filling every part of his subconscious.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
Roman’s hand shook as he wrote out the letter, the events of earlier that day.
There are 10 things you need to know. Number 1, we rode across the Hudson at dawn. My friend Terrence signed on as my number 2. Logan then arrived with his crew, Joan Pendleton and a doctor that he knew.
Just thinking of Logan made Roman write faster, harder, as if he didn’t have enough time in the world to get this all down. How ironic, considering he always told Logan to slow down; Logan, the one who wrote like there would never be another moment but now.
Number 3, I watched Logan examine the terrain. I wish I could tell you what was happening in his brain. This man is poisoned by political pursuits, most disputes die and no one shoots.
A barking laugh, but Roman didn’t let himself write that out. No, the people needed to know everything he was thinking, every word running through his brain.
Number 4, Logan drew first position, looking to the world like a man on a mission. And this is a soldier with a marksman's ability. The doctor turned around so he could have deniability. 5, now I didn’t know this at the time, but we were near the same spot his son died, is that why…?
‘Stupid, you should’ve chosen somewhere else, ANYWHERE else!’ Roman cursed himself, continuing his hurricane of writing and remembering.
Number 6, he examined his gun with such vigor. I watched as he methodically fiddled with the trigger. 7, confessing time, here’s what I got. My fellow soldiers will tell you I’m a terrible shot.
Roman nodded, taking a small moment to breathe, albeit a bit shakily.
Number 8, your last chance to negotiate. Send in your seconds see if they can set the records straight.
They won’t teach you this in your classes, but Logan was wearing his glasses.
Just remembering the way Logan shifted from fidgeting to his clothes to straightening his glasses sent Roman into tears.
Why? If not to take deadly aim! It’s him or me, the world will never be the same! I had only one thought before the slaughter! This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.
Theodosia filled his mind, calming his rage of writing and tears. He’s alive for her. He has to life for her, and her mother.
Number 9, look him in the eye, aim no higher. Summon all the courage you require, then count!
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The bullet was moving in slow motion towards Logan. He shook, and his mind raced, delaying the inevitable.
‘I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory… is this where it gets me? On my feet, several feet ahead of me? If I see it coming do I run, or fire my gun, or let it be? There is no beat, no melody. Ro, my first friend, my enemy. May be the last face I ever see…
‘If I throw away my shot, is this how you’ll remember me? What if this bullet is my legacy- legacy! What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you’ll never see. I wrote some notes for the beginning of a song someone will sing for me, America, you great unfinished symphony! You sent for me! You let me make a difference, in a land where even orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and rise up, I’m running out of time I’m running and my time’s up, wise up, eyes up.’
Logan’s eyes raised to the sky, and he smiled, tears running down his face. ‘I catch a glimpse of the other side…
‘Missy leads a soldier’s chorus on the other side… my son is on the other side, he’s with my mother on the other side, Pranks is watching from the other side, teach me how to say goodbye! Rise up, rise up, rise up, Patton!’
A shaky breath, in and out, and he smiled slightly. ‘I’d love to take your time… I’ll see you on the other side.’
His mind was made. He looked down at the gun, and slowly raised it to the air. ‘Raise a glass to freedom.’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He raised his pistol to the sky -WAIT!
Tears were now dripping to the parchment below him, blurring some of the valuable words he’d hastily scribbled as everything overwhelmed him. If he’d been a moment faster… hadn’t shot quickly…
I strike him right between his ribs. I walk towards him, but I am ushered away.
He remembers how Logan had looked up at him, eyes teary, chest and stomach covered with blood. He’d smiled at Roman, and mouthed two words Roman will never forget. ‘Thank you’.
They row him back across the Hudson. I get a drink.
Unlike his earlier writing, this is clear, written deliberately. He’d slowed down from his frantic scratching, and was slightly more calm.
I hear wailing in the streets. Somebody tells me you better hide. They say Anxiety and Patton were both at his side as he died.
Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints. It just takes and it takes and it takes. History obliterates every picture it paints, it paints me and all my mistakes. But Logan, rained down the sky, he may have been the first one to die but I’m the one who payed for it…
I survived but I paid for it.
Another shaky breath, but he knew it was almost over. He was almost done. Just a few more lines.
Now I’m the villain in your history. I was too young and blind to see. I should’ve known, I should’ve known the world was wide enough for both Logan and me.
The world was wide enough for Logan and me.
The pen dropped from his hand, and Roman Sanders collapsed to the floor, misery and pain filling every part of his subconscious.
//Tagging @prinxietys because they like Hamilton and somehow haven’t seen the other 3 I’ve posted
