The next days were hectic for Theodore Roosevelt. He had little enough time to spare with wife, much less Alfred. Where he felt he was going to slow, Conservatives felt he was pushing things much too quickly. Hence they fought him with every move he made in the public and accusatory way possible.
With things as they were, and how exhausted he was, Roosevelt felt justified to decide that he shouldn't have been dealing with this, right now.
"What is the meaning of this?!" he fairly roared, struggling to be heard over the shrieking maid.
Cortelyou could be seen huffing and puffing towards them, suit rumpled in his hurry. "Am I too late?" he wheezed, stopping to catch his breath.
"Too late for what?" Roosevelt reared on his secretary. "What in God's name were you unable to prevent that sent this woman into such hysterics?"
The equally overworked secretary, in answer, pushed past the twittering female, threw the pantry door open, and dragged a familiar bespectacled blond out by the collar. "Ask him."
Roosevelt blinked, not entirely expecting that. Then he saw the carrots and cabbage heaped in the Nation's arms. "What are you doing?"
"There was a rabbit in the garden," America explained with careful neutrality. "It's had babies, and I'm going to feed them." He sounded prepared to argue, if necessary.
'Curiouser and curiouser.'
The president felt his irritation subsiding, giving way to amusement. "Did the prospect of rabbits truly scare this poor woman so terribly?"
"No…" He almost sounded sheepish, and apologetic. "I just know she hates when I take food, so I kinda…toldhertherewasagiantratinthepantry.
Roosevelt managed to discern his rushed confession, but was unable to quite stifle his snicker. Cortelyou only looked on in disapproval. "I told you to let the gardener deal with the rabbits."
"He would'a done something mean," Alfred resisted petulantly, stressing the last word like a child might. "He doesn't like them."
Roosevelt laughed outright, clapping his secretary on the back. "There's no law against preserving nature, Georgie. Let's leave the lad be."
Cortelyou pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, sir. There's someone in your office, by the way, when you're done here. Called himself Perkins."
Message delivered, he washed his hands of the matter, took a deep breath, and left them to their own devices.
America's mask was firmly in place again, however ridiculous this forced dignity looked with his armloads of self-proclaimed rabbit food. "Was there anything else, sir?"
"For now, no," Roosevelt assured. "You should probably go see to those rabbits, lad."
The blond nodded, inching his way past the president as he made his escape. Roosevelt heard his relieved sigh as he turned the corner, and chuckled. So underneath all that caution and habitual isolation, was indeed the young Nation from Thomas Jefferson's writings.
It was heartening to finally see.
"My secretary tells me that your name is Perkins," Roosevelt greeted as he entered his office. "Do you not have a first name?"
"George," the man offered promptly. "However I'm here on behalf of someone else."
The president paused, appraising his guest anew. He took in the expensive clothes and thick gold watch chain that even had a small medallion on it. Tendencies of the wealthy or well-to-do. "And who is this unnamed benefactor of yours, might I ask? Furthermore, why is he not here, instead?"
"Mister Morgan is a busy man," George answered. "He has important things to do."
"More important than visiting the White House and seeking a meeting with the President of the United States," Roosevelt finished flatly, and a trite coolly. "My, my, it must be life or death."
Perhaps catching his offended tone, Perkins switched tracks. "We are here to inquire as to your…intended direction, for the Presidency."
"I've made countless statements as to that subject," Roosevelt reminded. "Perhaps you should refer to those. As I have important things to do as well."
"We have," the businessman said. "However the South is nearly up in arms over your recent appointments to certain public offices. McKinley would not have found this prudent to do."
Roosevelt clasped his hands behind his back stiffly. "I cannot pretend to know who McKinley would have appointed. I can only do the job as best I can and hope that things go well."
"Many believe that things will not go well at this rate," Perkins warned. "The scandal alone will hurt the party-"
"I havehelped the party," Roosevelt interjected harshly, "by cleaning out much of the rampant corruption that infected it so thoroughly. I shall not be one hairs breadth milder in my message or my methods."
Perkins fell silent, leaning back slightly in surprise at how quickly the president's patience had worn. Then he pulled his last card.
"Mister Morgan will not be pleased when I relay your intentions."
"J.P. Morgan Chase," Roosevelt began lowly, "is a businessman. His opinion matters even less to me than that of the common man. His empire only exists because America allows it to."
George Perkins gulped audibly.
"Morgan would be wise to remember his place," Roosevelt continued, "lest I feel the need to remind him of the difference between his thinly disguised monopoly of a company, and the government that he is subject to."
A break from all the angst this story has. I felt it needed bunnies. So there, cute fluffy bunnies.
HISTORY STUFF:
George W. Perkins was a prominent partner to Morgan & Company. I wrote him to reflect that, along with his quoted warning to Roosevelt: "…to do nothing at all, and say nothing except platitudes." Further research revealed him to have later been one of the men to later help Roosevelt form his Progressive Party, though, so I suppose they made up at some point. (Though there was a certain failure with an anti-trust plank that is suspected to have been largely Perkins's fault, so maybe not…)
Aaaaaaanywho, thank you all for the favs, follows, and reviews! It's nice to see people taking an interest in my humble offerings.
Later dudes. ^J^
