To solve this, I must re-read until I feel comfortable again. If anyone is attempting HF, my best piece of advice is, don't be afraid of re-training. Look at me. I've been into the American Revolution since I was 12, and now I have to go back to reading.
On that note, I became imersed last night. Four hours writing, and lookie what came out of it. I bring to your attention an excerpt. I love dialogue, and Hancock. He's my new favorite.
The good Doctor nodded solemnly. He reached inside his brown waistcoat, and instantly produced the book. “Are you positive she can be trusted?”
Mum leaned in, and whispered, “What’s happening? Why is someone questioning me, Samuel?”
I responded by leaning to the left and whispered also. “It is a standard procedure. You are about to be sworn in, like I, and every person in attendance today. Under the Bible, you cannot lie, as I am most certain you are aware; it would be an act of a sin. Essentially –“
“Mister Garrison, do care to enlighten us with the whispers,” Hancock said, and boldly if I might add.
“She asked about the Bible’s purpose,” I said in half-truth. Knowing full well that attacking one’s integrity, such as Doctor Warren who questioned the loyalties of my own kin, I do not think it would happen, to be thrown, dismissed, banished from a group I have known for six years, but it was possible I would no longer be a member, especially now that events have taken a horrific turn, and placing me at the forefront of the gates. It was clear by the tones that we all were irritable, perhaps more than others. Indulging in attacking morals and personal opinions currently; it would simple to strike a nerve, and cause disorder. I have made those mistakes before in past meetings. In fact, John Hancock, who God-honestly never sugarcoats the truth or shields his opinions, once remarked that I was a firebrand, and my attitude at times can be matched with Sam’s tongue-lashing against the British Parliament.
I watched Doctor Warren’s stride. It was quick and with purpose. He handed the Bible to Paul. Before he accepted it, I watched Paul look within the direction of Doctor Church, who appeared to be standing rigid. Then it dawned upon me. The other doctor has not spoken a word, yet there he stood, not straying away, nor displayed signs of regret in joining us. I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, and pondered about the situation silently.
He took the book, and handed it to Sam. “Pass it on down to the young Garrison,” Paul instructed.
“Ye do realize,” he stopped, and faced the entire group, “that time is precious. We cannot appear so conspicuous in our approach. Before Boston rejuvenates, we should move to the safety of a sanctuary. Perhaps, with John’s coach, he can fit five people inside, then we move this party elsewhere, and continue.”
“Yes, I do believe my coach is capable of that task,” Hancock replied.
“Just pass the Bible, Samuel Adams, and pipe down. We are the only fools out and about.”
I managed to grin slightly, and envisioned Sam scowling in Paul’s direction.
“Here, Master Garrison. Do it, and be quick,” Sam commanded irritably.
I gripped the book, and just looked at the gold lettering stupidity as if it was the first time I set eyes on it. I glanced up at Sam questionably. “You are allowing me to swear in my own kin?” I asked one of the original leaders.
He sighed, and it was apparent he did not approve of the question.
“The lad is still young, Samuel. He is not from an affluent family whose backbone was politics. He-“
“Hancock, hear with open ears, and cease on mocking of my social standing in society,” I warned. “That is the fifth remark, and yes, I have kept track.”
I watched Hancock nod, and I accepted the gesture as an apology.
“Master Garrison,” Sam spoke, and then tugged the laced cravat lightly. He pointed an index finger directly into my face as if I were being accused of a crime. Before I was able to protest, he flashed me a wink, and I relaxed slightly, but I remained on guard. I now was somewhat aware that my longtime mate was essentially putting on a show for the others. He was fully in his public character, and I suspect he was also conscious of the bond shared between us, and wished to prevent leaking information. I will never understand the reasoning but every person exhibits a weakness, and Sam Adams’ has chosen sadness and loneliness as his defects.
“Master Garrison!” I heard a familiar voice yell. “Where is thy mind today?” Sam asked.
I had expected Paul to protest or say something witty in his typical, sarcastic form but no, he remained silent, and so did the others. It was most unusual but instead of further dwelling on his peculiar behavior, I turned my attention to the right, and faced Sam. “I presume you are calling upon my duties?”
Sam nodded. “Remember who ye are. Do you know it?”
I nodded also, but there was little pride on this day. I responded, emotionless, and without enthusiasm, “In a vote, I was elected to become another leader but it would never have happened without a Samuel Adams and a Revere who refused silence, argued my case, and eventually, after much debate, I was accepted. I am a Loyal Nine, one of the originals who joined so long ago.”
“By default,” Hancock replied, in which I ignored his comment. He means well, but his mannerisms are deplorable at times. I do have one quality over Hancock. I am a leader now, yes, but I am the youngest Whig within the radical party, and rose to that rank in only four years at the age of nineteen. I presume no other can hold that recognition in a political group.
I like this part too.
Mum,” I said.
“Give me the Bible, Samuel.”
I produced a faint smile. It was the best I could muster. I was pleased she seemed to be accepting the situation, and more so, my position but I had hoped Mum would have contributed something, since it was her and others that were responsible for the deaths.
Keeping my composure, I shook my head, and spoke firmly. “No, I do apologize but you have no authority here.”
“You sound like Welcome,” mum whispered grudgingly.
“I am his son,” I responded, letting her know I heard the comment. “Regardless, to be inducted, let it be heard, known, and accepted by every person on this eve of retribution, an individual stands before us today. She is a women but she is one such person I have had the pleasure to know my entire life. She is a strong spirit. She is thoughtful but cunning.” I halted with my speech, and licked my lips for the next part. “Her name is Martha. She is my Mother, and she was a witness to the crime.” I looked into her eyes for council, preparing myself for revealing everything.
“Go ahead. Tell them the truth,” she said.
Mum was astoundingly calm and collective or so she seems physically. There were some whispers between Paul and Sam, and I noticed through the corner of an eye John, Doctor Warren and Hancock were also exchanging whispers. Doctor Church stood silently but for some odd reason he appeared content or at least he did not seem the least threatened by not being included in private discussions.
“I am a witness to the crime,” I continued after the brief pause. “No, no, Hancock. Please put your hand down, and do not interrupt. We both have assembled today to offer our accounts of the Mass –“ I shook my head sullenly, and groaned. I felt Sam touch my right shoulder, and patted it.
Accepting the gesture as a sign of affection, and happy he finally was willing to display it in public, I pressed on, but now with a newfound burst of energy, thanks to Sam.
“We both have assembled to share our accounts of the incident upon King Street. May March fifth be remembered, and my fellow Bostonian’s deaths be avenged!” I shouted angrily. “I was there. I saw those God-awful Lobsters shoot with no remorse. I saw bodies crumple. And where was the help? No, those soldiers just stood, and watched those who were still alive. They just stood!”
“Easy, Master Garrison,” Sam replied. He stopped patting my shoulder.
“You are going off course. Make it fast,” I heard Paul say.
My happy go-lucky Paul Revere is disappearing. Bummer...
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