John Adams - Abigail (F)

[zakandsara]

"Mother! Come quick, please! I'm frightened!"

Abigail stood from the floor of which she had been scrubbing for an hour or so. She wiped her stained hands on the front of her apron and headed purposefully toward the room of her son, Charles. She arrived to see him sitting on his bed, covers pulled up over him. 

"Charles? What's the matter, darling?"

"I've had a nightmare of terrible ghouls and goblins. I can't sleep," he whimpered, tears forming in his innocent eyes. 

"Be still, Charles. You've nothing to fear but for men and muskets. No sense in worrying over the toils of imagination, hmm?" she whispered to him, pulling him into her chest as she sat beside him. "Rest, my dear boy. Tomorrow shall begin before you've even forgotten this day." 

He looked up at her with such trust only a young boy could possess for his mother. She smiled at him with her kind eyes and leaned in to kiss him on the forehead. 

"G'night, mother," he sighed. 

"Good night, sweet boy. Dream of only happy things." She rubbed his back and rose to exit, but was stopped by something within. "H'knsssht! I beg your pardon," she responded, slightly offput. 

"God bless you, mum," Charles mumbled, sleepily. 

"Thank you, my sweet son," she smiled again and kissed him one last time.  She stood and left the room, careful to shut the door quietly behind her. As she readied to continue the cleaning, she heard another familiar sound; the rustling of parchment at her husband's work desk. She tiptoed in, so as not to disturb him, and peeked around the wall at him. He was sitting by candlelight with stacks of parchment about him. She smiled to herself, knowing the man would be awake for hours yet fulfilling whatever duty this was. She stayed but for a moment when suddenly she was overcome with a strong urge. "Kntschh!" At that her husband looked up, frightened. "Pardon me, John, I meant not to distract you," she apologized.   

"No trouble, madam, you only startled me. You are awake yet?"

"Cleaning. Finishing the floors. Is it in your plans to work until dawn?" 

"Well, I certainly wish that not the case, but I cannot say. The good General Washington has asked of me a letter and I cannot and will not live to disappoint him. As for you, madam? The cleaning can wait until morning, can it not?"

"Of course, John. I merely wondered if you would be to bed at a decent hour. I wish you to bed before day has dawned," she admonished. 

"I must finish, Abigail," he said, growing frustrated.

"John Adams, don't you grow angry with me. For I have done nothing to deserve the fury of your moods and you know this. I am to bed. Good night, John." He merely stared, defeated, as she turned to leave, but stopped before she was gone. "Knxschht!" 

"Bless you, madam. Have you fallen ill?"

"Thank you, John. I know it to be merely dust, I am sure. I feel quite well. I pray you will have the good sense to feel as healthy when the morning arrives," she warned, eyes locked on him. "Good evening."  

Sooo, let me know if I should continue drabbling. Or just tell me if you like/hate it.

   

[alpha_dog]

I love this!! Please continue!!!!

[Alexandria]

I would like to see this continued as well : )

[snuffle-bunny]

This is great. Please, continue it!

[count tiszula]

Wonderful stuff! Brilliantly written, and amazingly I enjoyed huge quantities of the tv programme [not sure if it counts as a shpw in the US] especially the bits when he is in France and England and all the silly accents. But I suspect Abigail stays at home, doesn't she?

Anyway, yes, yes, there must be more of this; I can just see her sneezing messily all over Franklin while at the tea-table.