Gold Coins
The tension in my stomach felt like two knots squeezing and tightening as I walked down the halls of the White House. The Civil War left a lingering tension in the air. Let’s add to that tension with a request for money to the Indians back in Minnesota. It was as possible as snow in July. If I am unsuccessful, Indians would lose our trust to an extent I did not want to know. The quick pitter-patter of feet and laughter broke one of the knots brewing in my gut. Laughter by young male voices loosened another knot. I slowly pushed the door open, upon entering the room, it was darker than I had imagined. Dark velvet curtains hugged the side of the windows. Light streamed through the windows and bounced off his dark hair. He sat perched over the large dark oak table. He was steady with concentration and did not acknowledge my presence. Hmm, hmm, I said clearing my throat and building up the bravery inside of me to speak. He stood up, which seemed to go on and on as if he would not stop rising. He appeared as if he had enough length on him to touch the ceiling. I had to impress upon him the dire nature of the situation. If I was unsuccessful, men would starve or worse.
