Clarence Rupert fondly remembering his old Alma mater, O’Brien Middle School issued a challenge to the third-grade students to write an essay explaining why they thought America was the greatest country in the world. Mr. Rupert was partial to the third grade because his granddaughter, Melissa was enrolled in the third grade and decided he would send the entire third-grade class, with families included on an all-expenses paid, one-week vacation to Washington DC. to tour the historical sites around the capital and an opportunity to meet their local Congressperson.
Old Rupert over the years had accumulated more money than he knew what to do with, so giving this class an opportunity to visit Washington, D.C. was his way of giving something back to the community. And to impress his granddaughter, Melissa. Melissa, his granddaughter, and closest living relative to Rupert. His daughter had already visited Washington, D.C., Disneyland, and every major tourist stop in the country. In some cases, more than once making this just another trip to please her grandfather.
Allison, a member of a loving family, saw this as an unbelievable opportunity to view life outside their small farm that she only knew about from reading books on American history. With total concentration, Allison sat down and began studying American history in preparation for her trip to Washington. She focused on this country’s ancestors, reading about the history of the founding fathers of this great nation which was so vast she hardly knew where to begin! She wanted to be well prepared when they landed at Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C.
Rupert, with the support of the townspeople, managed to put together a small parade, ending with the town’s mayor speaking and Mr. Rupert, getting up so choked up, speaking to the large crowd that had gathered to wish the small class a fun-filled and safe trip to Washington. Following the breakup of the parade, the ebullient Dawkins family rushed to prepare for their historical trip to Washington DC.
Rebekah kiddingly said: “Pity Old Rupert didn’t choose to send us to Disneyland or Disney World—just think of all the fun we could have had!”
“I promise, said Allison. When I become rich and famous, I will take us all to Disneyland and visit historical Savannah on our return.”
Washington, D.C.
As Allison and her family boarded the plane with the other passengers en route to the capital, it was near impossible for the third-grade families to contain their excitement, with the excitement soon becoming contagious after the other passengers learned the nature of their excitement. Some of the national networks aired a part of the story in which some of the passengers were aware of paying the families their congratulations. But poor Allison! She wanted to put on a happier face, but the truth was: that she would have been just as happy to remain home, not being much of a traveler. A trip to Washington must have seemed like a walk in the park. compared to her previously unrecorded trip—planet Zorbus to planet Earth.
“I’m glad we are on this trip, but I’m already missing Billy and the other farm animals,” offered Allison.
“Allison, added Rebekkah, “You are weird. Lighten up! Have some fun. You know they will be well taken care of by Uncle Bubba.”
“I know, but it’s just not the same as the care I give them.”
Soon after that rather interesting conversation, they arrived at Washington DC, with Allison quickly getting over missing home and her animal friends. It was time to take in Washington and all of its historical sites and Allison was ready!
Arriving on time at the Dulles International Airport, a tired and happy Dawkins family, ready and anxious to reach their hotel to prepare for days of sightseeing. The rooms, previously reserved, were available on their arrival, with one room assigned to the three girls, Pauline, Rebeka, and Allison. Paul and Charlie had their own room. Mrs. Dawkins had an adjoining room next to the girls. She could not remember the last time she was able to sleep in a room by herself. There were no interruptions by children or Riff and Raff whom she missed terribly.
None of the families got any sleep that first night. All the sites and amenities of the hotel lobby and dining areas were fully explored by the Iowa visitors. When the children, eventually becoming bored with the indoor activity, wandered outside the hotel as far as allowed to observe the other guests and sit by the pool. Meanwhile, Ms. Dawkins, and the other mothers, as typical concerned mothers, ran around behind the children to make certain no one disturbed the other hotel guests.
By noon the next day, the proud families from Iowa, playing tourists could not decide which historical site to visit first. Their tour guide offered these choices: the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History, National Museum of American History, United States Capitol, Lincoln Memorial, National Gallery of Art, U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, Library of Congress, National Air and Space Museum, National Vietnam Veterans Museum, National Mall. National Portrait Gallery and Korean War Veterans Museum.
“We should save some sightseeing tours for the night, spoke up the mothers. “It should be nice traveling around by trolley at midnight when it is not so hot, a fun time —not to miss nighttime sightseeing tours of Mt. Vernon which there were many.
There are so many excellent restaurants in D.C. the proud visitors had a hard time making up their minds about which ones to choose. The Barman, very popular with the drinking crowd., seemed a choice for locals, but too expensive for out-of-town visitors from Iowa. Making the first stop: Joe’s Seafood Prime Steak and Stone Crab, turned out to be a hit for the entire group. You do not find a lot of seafood restaurants in rural Iowa. Ms. Dawkins’s favorite is the Tortino Italian Restaurant/Italian Cuisine.
The Capitol Grille, serving up delicious hamburgers turned out to be the favorite of Charlie and all the little boys on the trip. Which shouldn’t come as any surprise!
The girls' favorite, including Peggy and Allison: Sweetgreen Capitol Hill, specializing in all kinds of salads. Loaded with practically anything you wanted. For Allison, she made sure her salad contained no meat from the farm. Accepting shrimp in lieu of beef or chicken which she felt was O.K. since seafood, for her, was safe to eat.
The Dabney, a restaurant located in Blagden Alley required reservations in advance, but the restaurant welcomes walk-ins at their bar grill where the patrons ordered a la carte from their menu—a preference because of the restaurant’s nearness to where they were staying.
A visit to Washington, D. C. would not be complete without a visit to Capitol Hill to meet the Iowa’s congressional representative of their hometown district. The young representative was well versed on who the group was, having looked forward to this opportunity of personally meeting his young constituents—too young to vote, but never too early to start making selections for the future. Typically, cheap Washington D. C. Souvenirs were passed out, thrown in with the rest of their luggage and soon forgotten.
*****
Recovering from several nights of restful sleep from her historic trip to Washington, D. C. Allison awoke, realizing she had just had her first dream. A rather strange dream at that. She found herself visiting the ‘real’ Allison’s gravesite. Surprised the gravesite, once choked with weeds, was in such good shape. After all, her siblings were convinced, (weren’t they?) the real Allison had died and miraculously brought back to life. So, “Why take such good care of an empty grave?”
In her dream, Allison, lacking any type of organized religious belief, made a point to kneel and ask forgiveness for her namesake. Sorry that her namesake’s life had had such a bitter ending. Racine felt privileged and honored, given the opportunity to carry on in her behalf. “Never, never shall the name ‘Allison’ be dishonored,” she pledged.
Nearly awake, Allison’s thoughts began to wander. What if I had landed in the middle of the ocean and not in some Iowa cornfield? With no other human around to protect or save me. Attacked and eaten by a hungry white shark. Or worst yet, landing in a remote African village. Where the appearance of a little white child with blue eyes and red hair was so shocking, the excited natives immediately offered her up to one of their pagan gods as a sacrifice. Ending up in her dream, being boiled in a black cauldron, with total intent of being eaten by the natives. Ugh! What a terrible thought!
Or landing in the Arabian desert, picked up by some shifty Bedouin with my life ending up as the property of some roving rogue. Or, taken to a local mosque, blindfolded, and beheaded. I thought dreams were supposed to be sweet, surrounded by gentle nymphs gliding through the puffy clouds, gazing at the stars---not demonic, she screamed inside her mind.
When she finally fully woke, Allison was convinced: her arrival in that cornfield was an act of providence. Some unknown force, greater than all mankind, decided planet Earth was where she belonged; not planet Zorbus. Her being here in Iowa had a purpose. Now all she had to do was fulfill that purpose.
Standing at five feet and ten and one-half inches, Allison was by far the tallest student in the school’s entire history. Her striking beauty turned all heads—including some girls. Having any type of a close relationship with either girl or boy was not Allison—her beauty may have been a distraction to others, but not her—convinced, there must be more to the meaning of life than just being another pretty face.
Following her return from Washington, DC, Allison set aside her childish ways, ushering in the first phases of being a responsible adult. She was now a serious academician, continuing her studies while in high school, striving to learn something new—no longer having time for childish games. The usual type of pastime other students engaged in, but not her.
The football senior-class football quarterback, Spence Lambert, obviously did not get the memo—Allison is off limits.
Spence, a renowned bully, surrounded by members of the school’s elite, senior football team players, the types that don’t have a life of their own, who revel in another’s popularity with the girls—mistakenly thinking being friends with the team’s quarterback was a cool thing. This was Allison’s third day in the new school—new because ninth through twelfth-grade students were assigned to a separate building specifically set up to teach grades ninth through twelfth.
Entering the ‘new’ school, Allison, unexpectedly, meets the ingrate, Spence, for the first time. A meeting destined not to go well.
“Well, hello beautiful, where have you been all my life? Give old Spence a big hug and kiss!”
His lips were about a quarter of an inch from Allison’s before the reality of what Spence was up to, flashed through Allison’s mind: “This is as good a time as ever to release some of that built-up energy I have stored up for a very long time,” she thought.
Exhaling as hard as she could, sending forth a blast of exhaled energy from her mouth, propelling Spence, and his entire entourage thirty feet down the hall. Breaking Spence’s right arm, dislocating his right shoulder, and placing him on the ineligible playlist for two months—which was practically the entire season. Spence’s teammates suffered similar fates.
The school principal, who also subbed as the school’s head football coach, rushed out of his office to see what all the commotion was about thinking it was probably a sonic boom from a passing military jet. And was just in the process of ringing up the Air Force to complain, but changed his mind, convinced the noise was too close to be a sonic boom.
That is when he began to assess the damage before him. Seeing one-third of his entire football team players lying like broken bowling ball pins on the floor, he did a turnabout and headed for his office. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he was heard to speak. Anyone witnessing this amusing incident would have wondered if this was the work of some demonic spirit of ancient times---or perhaps the continuation of Allison’s dream.
11
11 Religion
Clarence Cleghorn, pastor from the little church on the slanted hill probably never paid for a meal during his entire adult life. Always had the uncanny ability to show up at the home of one of his parishioners just as they were about to sit down to enjoy their evening meal. Just as he was doing that night at the home of Ms. Dawkins. Making himself at home as if he lived there.
