The first time he heard about John Laurens was when he was 10 years old, although he thought he was old enough to not need or want bedtime stories, his father simply chose one night in August to talk about John Laurens.
John had never heard a similar name, he didn't remember him as a friend of his father or a relative, besides; he had grown up with his father's adventures which were filled with courage and honor and he also couldn't record an aparition of John Laurens.
Yet he found something in the stories about John Laurens that he hadn't found in his father's ones about his days at the war, there was a certain enigma to the character, values ​​so purely solidified, manners so perfected and ideals so lofty that quickly John choose him as a new hero, close enough to admire but somehow as distant.
Naturally, the new stories from his father woke up his curiosity and the deep admiration and emotion that the tales wake up in him is hard to ignore, he tries to search in his father's library with the thought that a patriot so perfect could just belong to the pages of a exciting novel but his results are poor and disapointing, he doesn't find anything else than lawyering books and academic texts, even finding a bunch of his letters during war that he prefers to ignore, grumpy with the insatisfaction of his search. Then, the great idea of searching in his brothers' libraries appears on his mind but in seconds he regrets it, the idea of get in Phillips' one has much pain to deal with.
Then he decides to ask James, with the hope that John Laurens is a tale already told, a nice leyend his father use for making easy their dreams, maybe, just maybe James heard stories he hadn't! But one more time, the results are supremly insatisfactories and James is totally ignorant of someone with such a name.
But- wait a minute, since John Laurens is a tale, John Laurens must be a invention of his father exclusively for him, a tale created just for John Church Hamilton, a gift from his kind father.
Therefore, with the explanation discovered, he abandons the subject with James, not wanting to provoque his jealously admitting his father has been inventing th best adventures for him.
Satisfied and happy, he goes to study Latin and Mathematic, forgetting John Laurens for the rest of the day.
The next time that his dear father tells him again about John Laurens have passed a time terribly long, he has to wait too much, too patiently for the new favorite tale, however he understands the late, the work of creating and redacting is hard and it takes time, specially the great stories like John Laurens.
And naturally, the wait and the expectative is just useful for reising his curiosity, now with new ideas about challenge his father's creativity, see how long he can go with his imagination. The tale of said night isn't dissapointing, John Laurens is as intrepid as the last time and even more, his values are intact and his patriotism raises a little flame in his own chest.
Furthermore, his father's face just apports to the deep halo of admiration and respect, sometimes John is surprised for the look in his father, he has the eyes filled with a kind of tender look, vulnerable in ways he doesn't understand or can explain, the room is invaded with warm and his father is transportaded to a mental kingdom where John cannot join him, a mental land of him and the leyend of John Laurens.
"How is he like?" John interrumps.
A distracted hum, his father too inversed in the fantasy, poor! He always is really concentraded telling this stories.
"How is he like?" He repeats.
Father looks at him with a glaze he haven't seen before, is one that makes him feel he just did something wrong but doesn't understand what could be.
A silence and dear father speaks:
"He was dignified and good, tinged with kindness and goodness, strong but sensible in the important parts" He says but that's something John already knows, he wants something different, something useful to imagine his tales.
"In the physical part, how is he like?"
Father looks at him, John thinks that there's something in his gesture that looks like pain.
"Tall, he was tall"
"How tall?"
"A head over me"
"And what else?"
"He had very masculine and hard features, a good jaw and a noble nose, his eyes... His eyes were big and kind, he always had a really tender look in them" His father continues and for the glaze of his eyes, he returned to his fantasies and the mental kingdom that John cannot reach.
"His hair was blond, a charming tone, similar to honey but he liked to powder it, some mornings I helped him and he helped me to do such... Like the gentlemans and good friends do" Now, there's something that has John's attention. Somethign that breaks his last assumptions.
His father knew John Laurens.
"Did you know him?" He asks excitely, blinded with a new enthusiasm which probably won't let him sleep.
But instantly he regrets, because now, just now he certainly can label the look in his father, because now is filled with pain and a vulnerability that he never thought would see ever.
John keeps silent, specially because he doesn't know what to say.
Luckily, his father takes the word.
"He was my dearest friend".
And, there's something wonderful to know Mr. Laurens doesn't belong to the imaginary fanthasies, something that filles him with admiration and respect, a kind of emotion that he didn't feel with the rest of his father's friends, already happy with the chance of sharing that admiration for Mr. Laurens with his father.
But again, he doesn't say anything of that, the pain that persists in his good father shuts him up, the sorrow filling every of the wrinkles.
"He died before you born" Father continues, doing nothing against the broke glaze in his blue eyes. John, as the good son he wants to be, desires to say something, comfort with words or a hug, but this new side of his father surprises him, too much to do a thing.
"Can we pray?" It's the only thing that comes to his mind, trying to abandon the subject and pleased to see the grief of his father's dissapears incredibly fast.
They take each others hand and pray, John doesn't say it loud, but he prays for the resting of Mr. Laurens.
While he grows up the stories about Mr. Laurens disappears, it's asshaming hear tales when you have 11 years old but John Laurens doesn't dissapear, he arrives as a ghost in the moments John needs inspiration, his mission in France will inspire him to study French, when the speed of the horse is too much the bravery of John Laurens will comfort him, when he thinks the discussion among hiw siblings are unfair John Laurens will remind him to keep his values and believes high and proudly.
Nevertheless, when his good, dear and beloved Papa dies, John Laurens cannot help him, he didn't lose a father, he was brave and kind, but he was the perfect gentleman anyways. Mr. Laurens didn't have to see the destruction of his family, he didn't have to hear his siblings cries or his mother prays.
But his father did.
His father already lost, he lost Phillip, dear and young and fool Phillip and he lost Mr. Laurens, bright and brilliant and affectionate Laurens. He remembers the face of his father when Phillip died, he rememebers the change in him, the weight, the eyes, the mouth, now he can recognize the look his father had in himself.
He remembers the vulnerability when talked about Mr. Laurens, the sweetness talking about their friendship and the plummet when remembering said friendship couldn't exist anymore.
And slowly, he creates his own mental kindgom, one that only he and the ghost of his father can join in, a place where just him and the memories of his father exists.
Now he understands why his father lost himself while talking about Laurens so easily and why arriving back to the reality hurted him so much.
But John has another thought which comforts him, now Mr. Laurens and Mr. Hamilton will meet again, and some far day, John will meet his father again, while now he has his mental kindgom and some days, that's enough.
