Capital Punishment
Chapter 1
Signs of being a capitol include:
Headaches during political disputes
Man, did Danny know what that was like. Ever since this last election, he hasn't gotten a good night's rest and was beginning to feel nauseous every time congress went into session.
But he could deal, he's done it before and just because he wants to curl up in a blanket and cry whenever this new prez opens his mouth doesn't mean he has an excuse to skip work.
Danny was on break, sipping a nice cup of Starbucks mocha and annotating King's book for the second time since 1984. After he found it, he promised himself that he wouldn't freak and give it some time before coming to any real conclusions. He thought of himself as a logical thinker, and he wanted to keep it that way.
But even reading through it again in 2017, it only confirmed his thoughts that this was a real possibility. It was time to do something about it, especially since Mr. President was fucking up his Zen time. Danny was desperate for some relief or guidance, and for some reason a mocha grande wasn't cutting it anymore.
"Hey Dan! Breaks up! We need ya for the rush!" Yelled Samuel, from behind the counter.
"Yeah bro, I got you!"
Danny closed his book and stood up, finishing in his cup to jog back to his bag and put the book away for later. He'd made up his mind, and after work today, he was going to write Mr. King a letter. Not an email, a call, or whatever the internet was doing these days, but an old fashion letter. They felt more personal and congress couldn't read those if he sent them from the post office. That and he really wanted to write a letter again. He was feeling nostalgic for a more stable era.
"Man Dan, you can finish a Grande in seconds, I'm impressed."
"It's a gift." And the afternoon rush began.
A country feels a natural instinct to protect or support his or her capitol.
Wouldn't that be nice, Danny thought, somebody to pick him up when fell from sudden faintness after a failed congressional vote.
He sat on his bed, triple checking to make sure it all added up.
Countries are especially protective of their capitols in times of war, because being able catch a capitol is tantamount to surrendering to the enemy.
Well thank God nobody is trying to invade the U.S. or catch me—oh wait.
Beginning in 1995, there had been at least seven accounts of masked men trying to manhandle him into a black vehicle. Whatever that was about, Danny didn't know, but the Secret Service now keeps an agent or two on Danny's back to make sure he isn't grabbed again without back up. And he has gotten quite good at keeping both the masked men and the Secret Service off his trail to enjoy his privacy.
Most countries try to keep the human names of their capitols a secret. Allowing another country to meet a capitol in person is often viewed as a rare act of trust and alliance. I have only met three other countries (not including his brothers) in my hundreds of years of service.
Huh. Interesting. Danny didn't know how to feel about that. He didn't even know his own country, so he really couldn't relate. Anyway, it's letter time!
Danny shuffled in his American flag blanket over to his desk, turned on the light, pulled out his favorite blue pen, and started to write in his best handwriting. He wanted to make a good first impression on the British guy.
Dear Mr. King,
I am writing to inform you—
Aw scrap it, Imma be me.
Dear Mr. King,
My name in Daniel C. Washington, and I have a proposition for you. First off, I love your writing. It's really British (not an insult) and I loved your rampant rants about how appropriate times to show up for tea. I especially enjoy the fact that you're not afraid to be salty. The amount of salt in your writing should be illegal. And second, I need your help. I read your book back in 1984, and it seems that your ideas have really hit me home. I've been alive for 203 years and I've wanted to know why, and I think that I may be a capitol. But before I believe it myself, I actually would rather you confirm it for me. I don't want to assume anything and I hope that it won't be a bother, but in the light of the past election, I haven't been able to function very well and I'm beginning to feel desperate for some help. I've read in your book that a country can take away some pressure from a capitol naturally by being close, but before I meet him (or her, I don't really know), if I meet him, I want to confirm the reason of my existence. You might be wondering, why haven't I talked to my government about this? They should be the ones to ask. You would be right, but they won't tell me anything. I've tried, but by law or act or whatever, they are keeping this information from me. I have no knowledge whatsoever of anything related to countries and capitols other than what I learned in your book. Which was enlightening by the way. However, what my government will tell is that I am not allowed to leave, the Washington area or the country, and they can keep me in my room underneath the capitol if they see fit, which has made me quite adept at sneaking out. And just recently, when some agents found me snooping around the archives, they have forbidden me to look for information on my country, like they don't want me to meet him. Is that not strange? For some citizen of Washington D.C. to have all these restrictions? But even I know that I am not just some citizen. I may be 17, but I have seen more than any other man in the area and have had presidents consult me for advice, so in some way I must be special. I think. So will you help me Mr. King? I really need some help now more than ever. I don't want to fall apart…
Sincerely,
Daniel Christopher Washington.
P.S. If you wish to reply, please send it to the Starbucks on Pennsylvania Ave. with the name Rachel Jackson and the words "To a person of interest." She will get the letter to me without the Feds going through my mail.
Danny sighed. Good enough, a little emotional and desperate, but it was 3 in the morning and he was just about ready to fall over. He might actually get some sleep tonight. What a relief.