The Beard

Get ready NOW for the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Beard Party on Saturday February 12th.

The Beard by Thom Fletcher

James Garfield straightened his tie. Thankfully there would be no newspapers present but the

interview with the retiring president Hayes was a historic event and he meant to bestow upon it the

dignity that the meeting occaioned. He knew Hayes from his service to the Union Army and to the

great state of Ohio and surely Hayes would understand the necessity of a new administration

reconstructing itself from the decimated atoms of the late troubled term. His wits were sharp. He

would listen to experience. Still, Garfield was president now.

Hayes stood next to his desk as Garfield walked in, and Hayes practically rushed to the door to

meet his guest.

“Mr Garfield. James. It is good to see you. I hope Crete is well. May I fetch a glass of

lemonade?”.

“I would be grateful, thank you, sir.”

The drinks poured and the gentlemen seated, the conversation continued in this personal vein

for awhile. After a silence Rutherford Hayes looked thoughtfully at his guest. Garfield watched a

congress of notions play themselves across the President's brow. For a moment, surprisingly, Hayes

grinned and then assumed a look of calm gravity.

“Mr Garfield, you have been making hay while the sun shines. I commend you on your

industry. I know urgent tasks await you so I will keep our visit as brief as possible. As you know,

there are matters attending this office that are known in full only to the president. I am aware that I

leave office with a much tarnished reputation - no, no, sir, I have heard the name Rutherfraud

mentioned when the speaker was unaware of my presence, and my eyes are not so narrowly focused

that I cannot read what is written in the newspapers on my account. You and I have known each other

for many years. I trust you will believe that I have served this office as completely and as consciously

as my abilities allow. The challenges of the country change rapidly. I will not presume to own

intimate knowledge that will save you from the future's trouble. I will only say that the knowledge

encased in this office is exclusive by design. Not only for the security of the country, but for the

security of the office holder. You may not be surprised that the population of the Unites States has

exploded in the last ten years to fifty million souls, to form a host that I now leave in your charge. Mr

Garfield, that is one hundred million eyes upon you. Take care to guard yourself lest you be devoured.”

Here, President Hayes leaned back in his chair and sighed in a manner that spoke of a great

burden lifted. He extended a finger and tapped a brass hinged case that sat on the desk.

“There are letters in this box that will gain you insight to the true state of the union. I do not

need to remind you that these letters are to be read by nobody but yourself.”

Both men stood up. Garfield extended his hand to Hayes, but Hayes held up a finger indicating

for him to wait a moment more. Rutherford Hayes lifted his right hand to his jaw, and slowly peeled

off his beard, succeeding in removing it in one piece which he placed on top of the case.

James Garfield's eyes were large as saucers.

Hayes smiled sublimely and shook Garfield's absently offered hand. He left Garfield to wonder

next to the desk and walked himself to the door.

“James, I have great faith in you. If it does not greatly discommode you, I will call again in two

month's time.” And then Hayes left.

In two month's time James Garfield was getting around to stocking his liquor cabinet. The

modern man, knew Garfield, does not remove himself from the world's comforts. He had a bottle of

brandy in his left hand and a bottle of bourbon in his right when the woman walked in.

“Mr President,” she surprised him “I see you are rebuilding your cabinet.”

Aghast, Garfield put down the bottles.

“Madam, this is a public office but I own there is still such a thing as an appointment.” And

then, collecting himself into a more cordial attitude, “Who's refreshing company to I have the privilege

of sharing, Madam?”.

“Sir, my name is Myrtle Hayes. I pay this visit on behalf of my brother, the former President

Rutherford B Hayes. I hope I have not caught you at an inconvenient time”.

Garfield swept an arm toward a chair. “Not at all Mrs. Hayes. Not at all. How is Mr. Hayes

doing?”.

“He's quite happily returned to Spiegel Grove and sends his fondest wishes.”

Myrtle Hayes struck Garfield with a shocking, and perhaps regrettable, resemblance of her

brother Rutherford. The eyes, the large brow were the same, as was her carriage.