Two Abes, Wrong Adress

February 12, 2024…

This day of the year had always been the busiest, a time when every resident of this small town gathered to celebrate one extraordinary day: Abraham Lincoln’s birthday. The whole city was abuzz with shoppers and excited chatter, for a barbeque would be held to commemorate everything Lincoln had done for his country, and as the slogan was “No one goes hungry on Lincoln’s Birthday!” everyone was a tad more than excited.

Ian Holston, a nineteen-year-old boy, strolled down the street, his cerulean jacket keeping out the early month chill that otherwise would have frozen the marrow in his bones. Today was particularly special for him, taking into account that he and Lincoln shared blood. Yes, you heard that right. Ian was a descendant of President Abraham Lincoln. Every year, the whole town pitched in and donated one present, then proceeded to make today a special memorial for him and his grandpa.

Ian’s breath puffed out before him in small clouds as he breathed steadily through his mouth. His nose was too runny to be of use right now, and he kind of wished he had spent the afternoon in a warm restaurant somewhere. He exhaled in the crisp air, putting his hands snugly in his pockets.

Customarily, his photograph would have arrived in the mail by now, sent by Selene, the girl he took a particular interest in. She, in Ian’s opinion, put the most effort into the celebration, staying all day at the party to make sure the preparations went smoothly. She always sent a card to him with a photograph of the party to get his opinion.

He supposed he should swing by his house now and see if the letter had come. Selene would send the birthday card at 2:30 every afternoon, and after confirming the time on his phone, he began his walk.

Ian waved to friends and neighbors as he approached his house, but all of them were in too much of a hurry to stay and chat. He appreciated this, as social anxiety practically held the reins of his life. Ian knew his parents weren’t home, as they were two of the essential helpers in making Lincoln’s birthday special. They also used this excuse to spoil their son with gifts, which he didn’t mind in the slightest.

Ian opened the mailbox and reached his hand inside, the sleeve of his jacket rasping as it brushed against the mailbox’s interior. It was empty. He removed his arm and peered inside, hoping that maybe he’d just failed to grab it. Nope. There was nothing.

Just then, Ian’s phone began to vibrate, and with it, played the annoying ringtone that his dad had set as a joke. He held it up to read the name of the caller. It was Selene. Something stirred within him at seeing her face in the profile picture. He swallowed, a strong feeling of excitement humming in his chest, then tapped the green button, holding the iPhone to his ear. “Hey!” he said into the speaker. “What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“I was actually calling to ask you the same question,” came Selene’s voice on the other side of the phone. It was followed by a rustle that sounded like cray paper. “I sent the card a little while ago, but you haven’t sent any feedback on it. I was wondering if maybe you’d forgotten to text, or maybe you weren’t home?”

“Hm…,” said Ian. “It’s strange; I just checked my mailbox before you called. There’s nothing here. Postage must be slow.” He squeezed his eyes shut, the crisp air drying them out.

“Yeah…,” Selene’s voice was slow and hesitant, and she seemed to be in deep thought. “Normally, Ozzy brings it straight to your house, per my request. I don’t understand what could be wro… Oh no.”

Ian’s stomach bottomed out at her tone, and he pulled the phone closer to his ear. “Everything okay?”

“I’m not so sure. I…I didn’t exactly mail the letter.”

Ian shrugged, placing the phone between his cheek and shoulder. “Pfft, that’s not a problem. You can just send it now; I’ll be home, and I guess I’ll have to binge Netflix until it arrives. Oh, darn.” He added a chuckle for emphasis, but Selene offered none of the same mirth. “Hey, are you alright?” he asked, now genuinely concerned.

“Um… It’s not really something I can just send. I… kind of gave it to my dad… I was busy with the cray paper, and I thought that maybe he’d know who to send it to.”

Oh…, Ian resisted the urge to say. “I can…see how that might be a bit of a problem,” he said aloud. “But not one too big for us to tackle. Have you asked him where he sent it?”

Selene exhaled, the noise sharp over the phone speaker. “There’s no need. I know whose house he sent it to.”

“Great! I can drop by and ask. Once they figure out I’m related to their favorite resident, I’ll maybe even get a tip for showing up. Can you text me the address?”

“This house isn’t just anyone’s,” Selene replied slowly. “It’s…the mayor’s….”

Ian’s world froze. “The mayor? As in, our mayor? Mayor Abe?”

“Yep. That’s the one.” She sighed.

“How do you know he has it?” asked Ian, hoping to bring some light into the conversation. “I mean, there’s gotta be thousands of places it could have gone.”

“Because I wrote, ‘Happy Birthday, Abe!’ on the card. And there’s only one person—other than Lincoln—who’s famously named ‘Abe’ in this town.”

“And, with your dad’s ‘O so intuitive mind,’ of course, that’s where he’d send it.” All fell silent as Ian began to think. Retrieving it from the mayor couldn’t be too hard, could it? He’d just have to walk in and out. But the caveat here wasn’t retrieving the letter; it would be convincing the mayor to surrender it. Abe was a…what’s a nice way to put this?…an idiot. He wanted every day to be his birthday and for someone to clip his nails and feed him chocolate cake. Once he truly thought today was his birthday because of the card, there was no hope of reversing that damage. This wasn’t just about the card anymore. This was about preserving his grandfather’s birthday. “Okay, I can fix this,” Ian said, already thinking, and he heard Selene stir. “I’m going to the mayor’s house to get it back. Maybe he’ll give it to me once I tell him who I am. Or, better, maybe he hasn’t seen it!”

“No,” said Selene firmly. “This is my mess. I’m going to fix it.”

“Your mess?” Ian exclaimed, crossing his arms but keeping the phone by his ear. “Last I checked, this was your dad’s problem. I certainly can’t let you take the fall for this.”

“I guess. But I shouldn’t have given it to Dad. I know what he’s like—”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You were trying to make today special for me, and you were doing your best to pour your whole self into this celebration. So what if you were too busy to mail a letter? I’d be a monster if I blamed you for that. We’re going to solve this together, okay?”

He could feel Selene’s resistance through the phone, but after a time, she conceded. “Alright. Where should I meet you?”

“How about outside the cafe on Civil Street?” Ian replied, elated that Selene had accepted his help. “But definitely wear something warm. I see another storm approaching, and it’s coming fast.”

“Noted. Alright, I’ll see you there?”

“See you there.”

After waiting for Selene to hang up, Ian pocketed his phone and began his walk to the cafe.

***

It was about twenty minutes later when Selene arrived. She wore a thick red coat, and her hands were shoved deep in her pockets. Her brunette hair cascaded to her shoulders beneath a scarlet hat, and her golden eyes were affixed to the asphalt beneath her. She was lost in thought, obviously contemplating their situation.

Ian’s heart leaped at seeing her, and he was aflutter to give her the latte. As she approached, she looked up to see him, and her face went from thoughtful to excited. She flashed him a knowing smile, which he returned. “I should have suspected something when you said to meet up at the cafe,” she said, removing her right hand from her coat pocket.

“No comment,” Ian said, then handed the steaming cup to her. “I just thought you’d need a little comfort before our Mission: Impossible.” He sipped his own latte. It was scorching hot but creamy and sweet.

Selene chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go save your granddad’s birthday.”

They walked through the bustling streets, trying to walk beside one another as the crowd pushed back the opposite way. Everyone there was going to the barn to drop off a gift, Ian realized. The party started at 5:30. Certainly, that was enough time to convince the mayor to return the letter.

Their stroll didn’t take long, and the air only continued to get more and more bitter as the blizzard approached. Their cups were practically empty now, and both their noses were running from the cold.

Selene did a swift check of the mailbox while Ian approached the house and knocked. There was only silence. He knocked a few more times and then turned to Selene, who was striding up the mayor’s walkway towards him. “Nothing in the mailbox?”

“Nope. Any luck here?”

“I wish. I’ve knocked a few times, but he doesn’t seem to be answering.” He stepped back and bit his lip.

Selene walked passed him, then pressed her thumb into the doorbell, releasing a prolonged ding! from inside.

Ian smiled sheepishly. “Yeah… I should have thought of the doorbell.”

Selene ignored him, a grin on her face.

Suddenly, there was a clatter of items inside the house, accompanied by smashing glass and quick, curt shouts. “I have an alibi! Ow! AHH!! Don’t look in here just yet! I need to hide something!” It was the mayor’s voice. Ian recognized it instantly. He’d seen the man when he was younger, only on different terms. Last time, Ian was giving a birthday card to the mayor, not taking one.

Suddenly, the door was flung open, and a man stood there. He was a heavyset man, with an upturned mustache and a long, brown beard tied into braids. “Hello, little urchins. What can I do for you today?”

“Hello,” said Selene, jumping in before Ian could speak. “A card with a photograph was sent here earlier today, and we were just wondering if you had it?”

“Oh, thank goodness!” the mayor exclaimed. “I thought you were coming about the teapot I didn’t steal from the antique store. I thought you were the cops!” He released a massive, wheezy guffaw, then continued to laugh while Ian and Selene stood in awkward silence, hands folded. “Oh, you two are hilarious. And cute. You should get married when you grow up.” He said this passively before sniffing.

Ian felt his ears burn, and he was suddenly grateful he was wearing a hat. “Look, sir. We think you might have that letter we nee—”

“I do have a letter!” exclaimed the mayor, his bearded face lighting up. “It’s my birthday letter! I got it because…” He squealed. “Today’s my birthday!!”

Ian’s mouth nearly dropped open. No…, he thought. This is going to be more challenging than we thought.

A glance from Selene confirmed that she was just as nervous as him. “There’s been a misunderstanding regarding that letter, sir,” she said. “It’s actually—”

“Ap! Buh, bup!” the mayor interrupted, holding up a meaty finger. “Peasant girls don’t talk to royalty that way. You may call me ‘My Lord,’ ‘Your Highness,’ or ‘Min Konge.’ That’s Danish.” The mayor flashed a smile that demonstrated how smart he thought he was.

Ian suddenly felt the urge to kick this man, but he instead put a hand on Selene’s shoulder. “…Your Highness, there’s been a misunderstanding. That letter wasn’t supposed to be sent here. The delivery was wrong.”

The mayor waved him off. “I don’t think there was any misunderstanding,” he said, then fell silent, picking at his teeth.

“Oh, and just because you don’t think so means it’s the truth?” Selene snapped.

“Yyyup. That’s what my momma said. By the way, can you trim my nails? I’m too tired, and they’re getting long. And the boy needs to make me chocolate cake.”

Selene stalked forward, looking as if she were going to punch him. She stopped in front of him, her face displaying anger. “How you got elected is beyond me, mister! You knew your birthday before, and suddenly, you get someone else’s birthday card, and you’re questioning your previous knowledge?”

“Pfft!” scoffed the mayor. “Who else’s name would be Abe? I must have just been getting my birthday wrong. My dad was always a liar. He always told me how good vegetables were, and this only confirms his life-long deception!”

“Mayor Abe!—”

“—Your Highness!” corrected the mayor. “Actually, no. You both must call me Min Konge for the rest of your lives, or I won’t speak with you!” He crossed his arms and looked away like a pouting five-year-old.

Ian saw that Selene might just explode on him, so he placed both his hands tenderly on her shoulders, drawing her back slightly. “It’s okay,” he whispered. “Just a few more minutes of this. I can take it from here.”

Selene released a pent-up breath through her mouth, then nodded. Ian walked in front of her, looking straight at Abe. “Excuse me…Min…Konge…” He felt stupid saying it, but it was the only way to get the mayor talking. “Today really isn’t your birthday. I hate to break it to you, but it’s true.”

The mayor’s eyes widened, and as they did, his mouth began to open. Slowly. Really slowly. Ian suddenly became scared. The mayor began to shout at the top of his lungs. A prolonged, ear-splitting shout. Or, at least, that’s what they thought. Really, he was laughing.

Ian and Selene exchanged irritated looks as the mayor’s voice rang in their ears. “Okay, stop that!” Ian shouted.

The mayor stopped, but his look was stern, serious, and intimidating. It was as if he had suddenly been possessed.

“Min Konge,” Ian said hastily. “Please stop that, Min Konge.”

Abe nodded, his face relaxing. “Okay.” Silence reined for a handful of moments, but then Abe’s face lit up. “I know what I’ll do!”

“Return the letter?” Ian asked hopefully.

“No, ya mule!” The mayor chuckled, admiring his own insult. “I’m putting myself up by my granddaddy!”

“Oh, that’s great,” said Ian, confused. “But I don’t—”

Mayor Abe extracted a chisel and mallet from somewhere behind his back, and Ian stepped back, holding out his arms to protect Selene if he were to attack.

“I gotta go to Rushmore!” Mayor Abe exclaimed suddenly, and he began to flap his hands wildly, and his breathing grew fast “I GOTTA GO!!!” And with that, he hopped off, giddily leaping off his porch.

“Wait!” cried Selene indignantly. “Where are you going?!”

“To change the course of History!!” cried the mayor, not casting so much as a glance over his shoulder. He wrenched his gate open, and the door detached from its hinges with a horrid CREAK! “Crap…,” the mayor breathed, allowing the gate’s door to dangle from his fingers. “Uh…can you kids fix that after you make my cake? Thanks!” And then he was gone, laughing and howling like a rabid wolf as he raced down the streets.

With wide eyes, Selene and Ian faced one another, perplexed. “What…did we just witness?” Selene asked.

“I don’t know,” Ian replied. “But, what I do know is that this whole situation isn’t as bad as we realize. The mayor didn’t ruin the day!”

“Yeah, but if I gathered what I think I gathered, he’s gonna carve his head on Mt. Rushmore.”

“Oh…,” said Ian. “Well, hopefully, it won’t be noticeable.”

With a renewed sense of hope, Ian and Selene started home, their coats keeping them warm as snowflakes began to fall.

***

The party turned out to be amazing. It comprised nearly a thousand people. Jubilee thrummed in unison with the live music from the stage. Ian thanked roughly everyone for the fantastic party but tried to spend most of his time with Selene—the only person he didn’t feel socially anxious around.

 “I guess you’ll never see the photo I took,” said Selene. “But, I suppose it doesn’t matter since you get to see it live.” She gestured at the party around her. “The view is better in person, anyway.”

“True,” Ian said. “But, only better because I get to see you in this picture.”

Selene was taken aback by his words, but eventually, she steeled herself. Beaming widely, she tapped him on the shoulder with her knuckles. “Come on. Let’s go see if the burgers are ready. And maybe Lincoln’s grandson will get a free pass.”

“Or even a free lemonade!” Ian exclaimed. “Oh, how I want lemonade.”

Chuckling, Selene stared into his eyes. “You always want lemonade.”

And with that, she took him by the hand, and they both went to find the burgers, highly anticipating the great time that would ensue.

***

POST-ENDING SCENE

Mayor Abe had finally completed the carving of his own head on Mt. Rushmore. Well, it wasn’t really visible from the street, and it did look like a stick figure’s head with angry eyebrows, but it was his head! And, regardless, he had changed the course of history! He had done it! Sure, he was being questioned by the cops about both his audacity and his sanity, but history was forever changed!! Oh, how he couldn’t wait for his birthday next year.