Chapter 137: Chapter 126: The Death of George Washington

Mount Vernon, Virginia, the United States of America
January 29th, 1806

"Sir, you have visitors."

George Washington glanced up at his former slave, now butler and longtime friend, Nathan Cook with a tired smile, "Bring them in, Nate."

Nathan nodded somberly and followed his instructions. A group of men entered the room and George, despite his frail state, recognized all of them: Samuel, Richard Allen (a former black Methodist bishop that joined his Vicinusum sect), Jefferson, Madison, and many other members of Vicinusum and the Watchmen Society. Washington felt his heart warm as he realized that all these men and women took some time out of their busy schedule to see him depart from the world. He knew he was going to die, but he was unafraid, not with the people he came to respect and care for by his side.

"George," Samuel was the first by his side and gently shook his hand, "How are you feeling?"

"Better, but I am at my ends, Sam."

The former president, this world's "Father of the United States," shook his head, "I'm sure you still have some time left. You're not that old."

Washington cracked a small smile at the subtle joke, despite the heavy atmosphere, "I lived longer than I should have. I have lived a fulfilling life doing good for this country, and for this world. If the Almighty believes that I should go, then it is time for me to go."

The others watched silently as Samuel grimaced. Washington was suffering from Parkinson's Disease. It was incredible that his memory and his mental state were not deteriorating, but his body was slowly shutting down. Without any modern medicine to treat him, his death was all but certain. Some therapy and exercise helped prolong his lifespan. However, Washington was going to pass away within weeks, if not days.

"You still have much to do. We still have much to do."

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"You do, Sam. I am finally at peace. You and I have achieved much together. Well, mostly you but..." Washington let out a weak chuckle which made him cough, "The republic lives, an idealistic and equal republic. The dreams of millions have been made into reality. Our nation will serve as a beacon of light for centuries to come. Just keep one promise for me, Samuel, and the others as well."

Everyone looked expectantly at George, who raised his hand as if he was blessing them, "Promise me that the republic continues to live for its ideals. That this republic, anointed and approved by the Lord Almighty himself, will continue to bless those that live within its borders. That my sect Vici will continue to serve the poor, the needy, the oppressed, and the persecuted. Never let the future generations forget what we fought for, what we died for. That is all I ask, my final request."

He had seen it all. He had seen a time traveler appear before his very eyes and push him towards a path different than his "other self." At first, he accepted the words of the time traveler because he believed he was God's prophet. However, over time, he gradually accepted the man's words for what they truly meant. Over his life, he realized that Samuel's words were correct. Minorities were not that different than white men like himself. His former slave, Nathan, was a testament to that. He was a good friend, even though he was Washington's slave in the past. He was smart and certainly capable of thinking and voting for himself. It took years for his thought process to come around, but it did. And when it did, he began to promote it, work for it. He knew he didn't want to be president this time around, so instead, he worked to improve the United States through charity and through religion.

He didn't care about glory or honors. He didn't care about politics or becoming the first president. No, he just wanted to make a greater United States, an America that stood for all its ideals and egalitarianism. He was unsure if he succeeded, but he had done his best and the United States was a much better place than it was just twenty-six years ago.

Washington already included Nathan to be his successor in the Society in his will. Martha had died a year before, so he left all his properties and belongings to Nathan as well. He also appointed Richard Allen as the new leader of his Vici sect when he died.

Now all that was left for him was to pass on. He had met God, and he knew he was going to enjoy speaking with him again, this time face to face.

"Of course," Jefferson muttered as he looked down at his fellow Virginian.

"Then I can finally be laid to rest. The Creator awaits me."

Those were the final words of George Washington, who died next to his friends and followers on January 29th of 1806. Despite his death, his legacy would continue through Vicinusum and his life would never be forgotten by future generations. His statute in front of the Hall of Heroes would stand as a testament to his military abilities. His Vicinusum sect would go onto become one of the most charitable Christian denominations for generations. And monuments and statutes of him would be erected in Nova Scotia and various other locations as a constant reminder of his contribution, and his legacy, to the United States of America.

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