Chapter 154: Chapter 138: Regret

Columbia, Federal District, the United States of America
December 1st, 1812

President-Elect Andrew Jackson sighed deeply as he sunk into a chair in a guest room of the White House. He unconsciously covered his face with both of his hands and looked down at the ground. His mind was reeling from the shock he received upon learning about his... "other" self in the "other" history. After being told about his other self by President Hamilton in a private room, he almost wished that he had forgotten about it.

Jackson was raised his entire life to value the ideals the nation stood for. He spent his early years in President Kim's army group and encountered people from all aspects of life. He hunted with Native Americans (who taught him the proper method for smoking and preserving meat), cooked with African Americans, and cleaned with whites. Some of his fellow whites mumbled about being stuck with "savages" and "Negros," but Jackson never saw it that way. The Korean-American general, a man he looked up to even to this day, always instilled him the importance of treating people by merit, not by appearance. That belief was reinforced when a Senecan warrior named Guyasuta saved his life from a stray British bullet. The warrior was injured, but he survived his wounds and laughed off the incident after he recovered. In his mind, there was no doubt that Indians and African Americans were just as brave and intelligent as their white counterparts. His family "employed" a number of African Americans (when in reality, it was the other way around) and he worked with them for many years before heading off to the Marine Academy. He still remained in contact with Guyasuta and a few of his former comrades from the Revolutionary War and studied Native American customs during his time as an officer in training.

But in the other history... Samuel Kim never traveled into the past and thus, the Revolutionary War dragged on longer. His family was killed during the war, leaving him by himself. He became hot-headed, even more than he was now. The "other" Jackson was a mad man, drunk on his ego and viciousness. He dueled a man that insulted his wife (a woman that was still married to another man, of all things!) and exterminated thousands of Indians under his presidency. He owned numerous slaves and profited from slavery. As if that wasn't bad enough, apparently, his other self was an extremely tyrannical and brutal slave owner as well, whipping and beating slaves on whims.

It was a polar opposite of "his" life, a fact that did not escape him. He would have been the "other" Jackson if his former commander wasn't a time traveler.

While he thought over the meaning of his life, he wondered if the first president interacted with him to change the destiny of a potential evil-doer. Now that he thought about it, it made sense. Although he was the one that founded President Kim (well, he and his brothers), the man had taken an interest in him right away. And while he never interfered in the North Carolinian's life, the time traveler did check up on him from time to time. And during that trip to Asia, he took a peculiar interest in the young Marine officer...

Exactly how did the former president feel about him? Disgust? Amusement? Worry?

"Sir, the others are waiting in the Oval Office." A voice said from the other side of the closed door.

"I will be right there," Jackson replied as he took a deep breath and straightened the collar of his dress shirt. He wore a suit that was like the "modern" suits designed by the first president. The only key difference was a long feather tucked into his breast pocket, a gift sent by an aging Guyasuta when he heard that Jackson was elected into office.

As he walked down the hallways of the White House, Jackson steeled his nerves and formed a calm smile on his face. He was about to see the current president and all the former presidents in the Oval Office. He was elected by the people for his deeds in this world. Though, because Jackson knew what he did in the "other" history, he was going to make it up for it in this world and double the "goodness" he had planned for the American people. And triple for the Natives and African Americans, for the atrocities his other self committed upon them.

"Mr. Presidents, President-Elect Andrew Jackson of North Carolina." One of President Hamilton's aides announced as the former Marine officer walked into the Oval Office.

The Oval Office was spacious and grand, which wasn't surprising since the office was a place where history was made. The Faithful desk, the official work desk of the president, stood in front of a pair of windows that were letting in beams of sunshine. The smell of ink and smoke wafted through the office, which was created by the burning fireplace and a number of open ink bottles. The office was neat and organized, with the current president and the previous president all sitting comfortably on several couches that were placed in front of the fireplace. Jackson looked up to see a portrait of the previous president, James Madison, intensely staring at the small crowd from its position above the fireplace.

"Ah, Mr. Jackson! Please, come in," President Hamilton greeted him with a handshake, "The photographer is ready."

"Will it really take a life-like portrait of me?"

"Of course! I think I explained it to you before," The sitting president said with a sly grin, "It shouldn't take long. ARPA has refined the process. I believe it's called "daggertypes."

"Dodsonotypes," Jefferson, who was leafing through a small book, stated as he sharply glared at President Hamilton, "Mr. Wayne Dodson invented the process, in Boston."

"Right. Now let us gather together and take the picture. After all, the future generations will need something to remember us by."

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After a few minutes of adjustments, the group was finally ready to take the picture. Samuel Kim sat in the middle (upon everyone's insistence, including the photographer) with a kind expression on his face. Jefferson sat to his right, his book firmly in his right hand. Hamilton stood directly behind the first president, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his lips curved into a small smile. James Madison stood next to Hamilton and looked at the camera sternly. Finally, Jackson himself sat to his former mentor's left. He chose to display a warm and welcoming smile, as he wanted to be remembered as an approachable and friendly president.

The process took an hour to complete (as the photographer wanted to take multiple pictures). By the time it finished, everyone but the current president, the former presidents, and the president-elect left the room.

Samuel turned to the new president and patted his shoulders, "I heard that Alex told you about your history?"

"He did," Jackson replied nervously. He was forty-five years old, yet he felt like a kid when speaking with President Kim. It wasn't the awe-struck feeling he had when he was younger. No, it felt more like his adoptive father was talking to him. Especially since Samuel's hair was finally graying and he looked a bit closer to his actual age.

"Are you displeased about yourself or anything else?"

"I am in a stage of self-loathing."

"You're not the first, nor will you be the last," The Korean-American reassured him, "Believe me, I think Benedict had the worst reaction out of everyone that has been told of their "other" history."

"What did he do?"

"Betrayed the United States and sold it out to the British. Nearly succeeded in giving West Point over to the British with no resistance. His name was synonymous with "traitor" in the other world."

"Oh."

"Listen," President Kim lightly gripped his shoulder, "Do not worry about what happened in the other world. You are your own man. I apologize if I may seem manipulative since I completely changed the course of your life. I'm unsure if you will be able to forgive me for what I have done..."

"You're joking. If anything, I should thank you. It's because of your efforts that my family still lives on and that I'm not some terrible monster that owns slaves and duels people on sight."

Samuel nodded, "I know, but still, I played "God." I just want to let you know that I am very proud of you, Andrew. When I first met you, you were a small boy. I knew your destiny and tried to help you change your views and your life. And I'm proud that you have managed to turn out to be an outstanding person. Though your life has been radically different than your life in the other history so far, it seems like you were destined to become president. I know, you will do great things for the country."

Jackson's back straightened as he embraced his mentor, "I will not let you down. And I will make sure that I will repay those that I hurt in the other history."

Jefferson coughed, his silver hair and wrinkled hands moving as he did, "I am... touched by this scene. But we are also gathered here today to fill Mr. Jackson in on the other history and the Oracle. I'm not as young and chipper as you, Samuel, so let's get it done. I want to return home to Martha as soon as possible."

"Spoilsport," Samuel teased, "Alright Andrew, it's time for you to see the White House bunker..."

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