"Wright On"

ENJOY EXCERPTS FROM "THE EPIPHANY" FROM THE ENIGMATIC FREELANCE WRITER CHIP N. WRIGHT

AS REQUESTED BY OUR VISITORS.... ADDITIONAL CONTENT FROM "THE EPIPHANY" HAS BEEN ADDED BELOW!

The Epiphany

The wooden structure reeked of animal urine and other foul odors. John knew the piles of hay stacked neatly against the seasoned pine would make a hearty fire. His mangled leg made it impossible to run. His only defense was his Colt side arm. He knew he couldn’t possibly hold off twenty angry men so blood thirsty they would rather string a rope around his neck, than hull him back to town. His injured leg would make the trip completely insufferable. “Probably make me walk anyway.” He thought to himself.

“Come on out John, we just wanta talk to ya.” The Colonel yelled cupping is hands together to carry the 40 yards to the old structure. “You hear me! Come on out!”

“What’s going on, I didn’t do anything.” John asked while crawling away form the barn door.

“Your not going to do much with that twisted leg. Got to hurt.”

“Don’t touch me. You caused this.” John said while pulling his leg back with his hand.

“Come on out, You’ll get a fair trial. You don’t wanta die in there.” Yelled the Colonel once more.

“Why me? I just want to go back to Virginia. Leave me alone. I didn’t do anything.”

“It’s not me you have to convince, John. Those men out there have the problem.”

“Come on John or we’ll burn the barn. Who the hell is he talking to?” Said the Colonel while looking in the direction of the barn. “Sergeant sneak around there and see if you can get a better view inside.”

“Shut up. I didn’t do it.” John screamed at the door.

“Looks like a pretty old barn. Won't take long to burn.”

“Why?”

“Cause it’s old and made of wood. A lot older than you.”

“No, why me?”

“Opportunity John. You were just the right person for the job.”

“Why?”

“You couldn’t begin to understand why.”

“I don’t want to die like this.”

“You have another option.”

“That’s no option. Just another way of dying.” He said while he clutched his six shooter, pulling it closer to his chest.

“We’re wasting daylight. Lighter up boys.” The Colonel knew he had several hours of daylight left, but the long journey home and the beautiful mistress waiting halfway made him anxious to get on with the task.

“Colonel says lighter up!”

“Goodbye John.”

“Honey, Eric wake up. Your dreaming again. It’s okay wake up.”

Eric pulled from her grasp as he wiped the sweat away from his forehead. He arched his lean torso up and jumped out bed. Not wanting to talk about another dream, he draped the comforter around his body and stumbled into the living room. “Shit!” He said, while grabbing his foot that just made contact with the half-opened door.

“You okay?” Said his wife, from the bed he had departed. “Come back to bed, honey.”

“No, I can’t sleep. Don’t want to keep you up too.” Lack of sleep wasn’t what he feared for his wife. He tossed and turned for several minutes until he heard her drift back to unconsciousness. It took several more minutes until he fell asleep.

In the morning Eric was careful not to wake Lucy. He wanted her rested for the long campaign. The week long road trips were exhausting and he could tell by the thinning of her waist she was not taking care of herself. Being an aide for one of America’s top politician was not an easy endeavor. Long nights and frequent fast food stops was hard on a body. Especially a body that had played collegiate volleyball and was used to running marathons. But this was Lucy, always up to new challenges and always trying to out do everyone else. Eric, didn’t mine his wife taking long trips with a good looking middle aged Senator. He was very proud of her accomplishments and her being selected by a frontrunner to head a major political campaign. Though excited for her, he was also a little envious. His life as a small County Prosecutor in the Midwest was anything but glamorous. His biggest case after leaving Harvard was a conviction of a drunk driver who ran over a mother and her three children at a shopping mall. No matter how small the case, it sealed his faith as a Prosecutor for the next three elections.

“Did you get any sleep?” Eric asked as he poured her coffee into the oversized mug.

“Yeah, are you okay?” She said, sipping the caffeine.

“Sure. What time is your flight?

“I got about three and half hours to get ready. You want to drive me to the airport?”

Eric knew the International Airport was a two hour drive from their home in the small Ohio community. This would give them a few extra minutes together and time to make plans for next weekend. This would also give Lucy time to prepare her boss’ agenda. The two of them had an unspoken agreement not to talk about departure until the last possible minute. When Lucy arrives home on Friday night, politics and all other shop talk cease until Monday morning.

“Yeah, I don’t have anything pressing today.”

Eric Johnson grew up on a small farm in northern Indiana. His mother taught high school English and his father worked as a supervisor at a steel mill during the day and farmed 1200 acres of wheat and corn at night. Eric’s older brother, William Junior took to farming like a fish to water. He loved to farm and after high school, with the help of his father, purchased most of the land adjacent to their home. Three years older than Eric, Bill was 6 foot 4 and weighed 215 pounds. The Northern Express Tribune called Bill Johnson, “Cedarville’s Finest Athletic.” Eric had a difficult time living up to his older brother’s reputation. Eric played sports and was a fine athlete in his own way, but never excelled the way Junior did. He learned first hand how hard it was not to disappoint people when he hit the gridiron. His father, being a former college football star, didn’t help Eric’s self-esteem either. So he had to find his own way. He concentrated on his studies and learned everything there was to know about English, math, and history. He loved American history and he studied it as much as he could. His aptitude enabled him to take college courses his sophomore year and also solidified his pet name of Brainiac. The wide frame glasses he wore didn’t help curtail some of the verbal abuse either. He joined the debate team and took his school to Nationals. He continued playing football until the 11th grade, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t want to disappoint his family.

In Eric’s Junior year while playing a Homecoming game he started as a wide receiver. The quarterback, who was being pressed fired a missile in Eric’s direction. Eric caught the ball and ran toward the uprights. Three yards from the goal, a defender slammed in to his lower half and crushed his right leg. He never played football again. To this day, when there is a chill in the air, his leg reminds him of that October day. After high school he was given an academic scholarship to Indiana University where he majored in history. He often saw himself returning home and teaching high school. He never imagined falling in love and getting married. When he met Lucy, he knew she was something special. An all American athlete and National Honor Student. Lucy wasn’t just the pretties girl Eric ever dated, but the smartest one too. She graduated top of her Political Science class and was accepted to Harvard Law School. She followed in her father’s steps and his father’s before him. Eric had no choice but to follow her as well. So he gave up on his dreams of returning home and teaching history and enrolled at Harvard. He completed his law degree in two years, just six month after Lucy completed hers. The two of them soon settled in western Ohio where John started practicing law for William, Thompson and Ross. Lucy also had intentions of joining the firm. However as usual, she struck gold and was opted a better opportunity. Jack Anderson, an Ohio State Senator was courting a replacement for an aide who had suddenly retired. He considered several people form various places throughout the country, but wanted a new face that would inspire a younger crowd. He wanted someone fresh from law school, someone intelligent and up to date with the generation X, someone he could mentor and groom in his own way. He contacted his old friend James Richards from Harvard. Richards was now the head of the law program. Professor Richards told Senator Anderson about a young graduate that made a name for herself in the Harvard Law Review. Anderson called Lucy in for an interview. After an hour lunch she was offered the job and went to work the following week. Three years later she found herself the top aide and campaign manager for a candidate running for America’s top office.

MORE OF "THE EPIPHANY".....

Lucy often invited Eric to campaign with her, but he had no interest in politics. So he stayed home, read books and took long walks to pass the time while she was away. In fact, unbeknownst to his wife, he would have never ran for Prosecutor had it not been for her insistence. With the help of Senator Anderson’s contacts, Jack was a shoe in. His first conviction of a unemployed drunk driver that killed three children and their mother at a shopping mall insured his re-election and a six figure income.

“Hello, hi babe. How’s things going?” Eric asked while holding the cell phone in one hand and the leather steering wheel of his Lexus in the other. “Yea, just on my way home. Took a half day off and went golfing with Don. Kicked his ass, so he bought lunch. I know, I‘ll just find another sucker to play with, if he does that. No I think he‘s going out. He already had a couple. No, I kind of have a headache. Only had one. Okay, I know, maybe two. Yea, I got to try to get some rest. Love you, bye.”

Eric was unaware he knocked over the bottle of beer he just opened. The long week at work, and the hot sun on the golf course exhausted him. He missed his beloved Lucy and was uncomfortable sleeping in their bed alone. So, he sprawled out on the leather sofa and soon found himself in and out of consciousness. With the television still on, he soon surrendered to the weight of his heavy eyelids and the alcohol flowing through his blood stream.

“So what’s it gonna be John! You gonna come out on your own or do we burn you out!” John searched his mind to try to make sense of what had happened over the last couple of days. How could a man so talented and popular become involved in murder? How was it possible he was involved in the slaying of a man he knew little about? The killing of a person quickly becoming one of America’s most beloved leaders. John never met his victim. He doesn’t remember having a dislike for President Lincoln. Especially such a strong loathe which would motivate homicide. He considered himself a tender man, a man devoted to his mother. Someone building a reputation on his acting ability. Not a murderer or assassin.

“Wait! Give me a minute.” He screamed in the direction of the door. For a moment he placed his revolver to the side of his head. He cringed at the thought of his mother living the rest of her life knowing her son had ended his, in such a cowardly way. But to him there was little difference. He knew either way, he was a dead man. The union troops had no intention of letting him walk out alive. They wanted blood. Not so much for Lincoln, but for the lost of their union brethren, the lost of time spent fighting a war they cared little about, and the lost of their innocence.

“Well John, what’s it going to be? You and I both know, there’s no chance you’ll make it out alive. That’s not the cowardly way. Go ahead , get it over with.”

John’s leg began to hurt more as the adrenaline was subsiding in his body. He felt himself becoming weak, not wanting to fight, yet not wanting to give up. “Get out, leave me alone. I’ve done as you wanted.” He cried out at the man in the barn. “Can’t you see. It’s over. Let me die alone.”

“Sorry, John I have to stay. Certain things must take place before my departure.”

“Certain things?” John asked.

“Really they don’t even involve you anymore. You’ve done your job exceptionally well, and you’ll be known for….”

“I’ll be known as a killer of a President. I’ll be a hated man eternally.” John interrupted.

“Yes, perhaps by some. But, others will build statues and museums for you. There will be people that talk about you for centuries, and your name will be tantamount with your victim’s name. Scholars will write books and papers of how you pulled off the greatest assassination in history. And John, others will study you as well. This is not the last time this has to occur. No, there are many others that will follow. That must follow.”

“Get out! You’ve done enough.”

“Remember when we first met, John. You were a struggling actor with little direction of where you were headed. Now you are famous.”

“Infamous.” John muttered.

“It doesn’t matter. When the name John Wilkes Booth is spoken, people will know everything about you.”

“Not everything. They won’t know how I was manipulated into treason by a person so evil that the devil himself would find it hard to be in the same room with.”

“John, I’m not the devil. I’m not even the evil person you think I am. I’m just doing what I’ve been told to do. Like you.”

“Nothing like me. You’re nothing like me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“There was always a choice. Just like the revolver in your hand provides you with a choice.”

“John are you gonna come out!” Yelled the Colonel from the wood line.

Eric slammed his feet to the floor before he opened his eyes. “Dammit. What’s going on?” He mumbled out loud. Flipping through the channels of the television was little comfort. He couldn’t get the details of the dream out of his mine. He knew it was a dream, but felt it was something more. What did it mean? It was like someone or something was telling him something. He couldn’t make light of it. He knew one thing for sure. This was a dream unlike any he had ever experienced before.