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Richard Lawrence returned to his shop, one of his very few possessions he had left. He quickly changed out of his clothes he had been arrested in, still with mud on them and changed into new clothes. The clothes were a soft red, almost a pink, it was adorned with gold buttons that ran up and down the opening of the long overcoat. He stripped naked, stepping into the coat and only the coat. He admired himself briefly in the reflection of his windows. After he was satisfied opened the door to his shop and stood there menacingly staring at the plot of land he had purchased down the road. He couldn’t necessarily see it, but he stared in it’s general direction. This would become a pastime for Lawrence as he would stand in his doorway for over two hours straight a day and stare. He left the wind open his coat, completely revealing himself to those below. He grew an untamed mustache, a sign of depravity in those times. People would decry this as they walked by and kids would point and giggle. As the days went on, his garments would change, but he would remain, semi-nude, staring pointlessly.

A neighboring shopkeeper approached Lawrence one day in his shop after he had been standing in the shop’s threshold.

‘Richard! How’s the painting business going?’ Richard was hunched in the nook by the window reading the newspaper.

‘Can you believe this! How could he?’ Richard said brandishing the newspaper violently in the air.

‘That Jackson is stopping the second bank!’ He continued. After a long pause, Lawrence finally answered the question.

‘It’s been slow, John.’ He sighed.

‘Well, listen, I have a friend that needs a stable painted, if you could, I would gladly-‘

‘Oh, no, no, no. You’re so kind, but I don’t paint anymore.’ Lawrence interrupted.

The neighbor was confused, ‘I thought you said it was slow?’

‘Oh yes, it is, but that is not my concern anymore. You see, I have a significant amount of money.’ Lawrence informed.

‘Ah. I didn’t know that.’

‘Yes sir, I am a king, it seems to been lost knowledge among the Colonists.’ Lawrence continued.

‘A king? What? We aren’t Colonists anymore, we’re Americans.’

Lawrence began cackling, still facing out the window.

‘Americans!’ He laughed and laughed, to a point of choking. Lawrence lay on the ground by his window, newspapers sprawled around him, coughing. In between his chokes he would let out wheezy gasps and laughs, crying. The neighbor was disturbed.

‘You need to get well Mr. Lawrence.’ He said, leaving immediately. The man stepped into the street, still hearing the monstrous cackling that reverberated from the dark shop. Other passerby’s on the street would stop only briefly to hear, then hurry along.

Inside, Richard’s laughing spells were dying down, his body curled as it began to cool. These laughing fits would leave him sweaty and exhausted. He slowly rose to his feet, calmly got dressed in his commoners clothing, and made his way out of the shop. He locked the door and turned to his neighbor’s shop. In the window he could see the man who had visited early, watching through his shop windows. Lawrence gave a wide grin, with soulless eyes, and waved. The man scowled and turned away from the window and went back to work. There were a group of children in front of another shop, one pointed at Lawrence.

‘Look at King Richard!’ He teased. Lawrence unable to tell the children were indeed taunting him, took their teasing as genuine recognition to his crown.

‘Yes young children, you will be spared in my reign!’ he shouted. The children’s’ mother quickly gathered them up and ushered them away from Lawrence as he walked away.

Lawrence made his way to the center of the city, he walked for hours until he stumbled upon the White House, he began fixating on it while he muttered about Jackson. As he lie in wait, Jackson and his crew came out of the White House and headed for another governmental building, Lawrence followed. He would try to get as close as possible, listening to the group talk about policy. He was certain that Jackson would see him and grant him access to the funds that were rightfully his. Lawrence would be able to get so close as to be next to Jackson’s horse drawn carriage, sometimes even petting the horses while he lay in wait.

‘The bank was a financial monopoly that granted ‘titles, gratuities and exclusive privileges to make the rich richer and the potent more powerful’ Lawrence could hear Jackson talking about his money.

‘Yes! That’s the point! They hold MY titles!’ Lawrence shouted, revealing his position. The group all looked at Lawrence, but continued moving Jackson in to the carriage and moving the president along. Jackson, thrown off by the presence of this man, and his need to interject, scowled at him through the carriage window as he began to pull away.

Lawrence, remained still, smiled and waved at Jackson as he left.

This stalking continued for days, Lawrence began learning President Jackson’s every move, becoming well aware of members of his posse and his daily routine. Lawrence would dedicate himself all day to Jackson. On a cold January morning Lawrence gathered his pistols and waited outside of the Congressional building, he knew Jackson would be leaving soon, he never stayed long with Congressmen at their own place. Jackson liked to be in control, including where he met people. Jackson left the building and began walking back to the White House.

Lawrence stepped out from the cover of the awning of the building he was hiding under and began to step towards Jackson. Lawrence’s breath created a cloud as he walked into the cold air.

‘I wish I was better dressed, perhaps in black’ he thought to himself, as he reached for a pistol. Before he could extract his weapon from his coat, two women approached, rubbing against him, grabbing his arms.

‘Are you cold, my lord!’ One said, grabbing his chin and forcing his eyes to meet hers.

‘We could warm you, for a few half dollars.’ Another said. Just then two more women approached and began crooning over Lawrence.

‘Unhand me! I have work to finish!’ He hollered.

‘All work! You can work after. How could you keep me waiting.’ Another said reaching into his pockets. She touched one of the pistols and began to recoil. before she could remove her hand from his coat, Lawrence clutched her wrist and pulled her close. Fear was in her eyes as his soulless gaze captured hers.

‘Unhand me.’ She desperately whispered.

‘You have unfinished work.’ He mocked, ‘I will not harm you.’ He reassured her. The other women started to dissipate as they saw Lawrence was focused on only one of them. Lawrence looked past the prostitute and could see Jackson was too far in the distance now. He growled and thrust the lady to the ground, who silently got up and ran back into a building, hiding from the armed man. He spun back around to the prostitute who was nervously watching from the pub. Lawrence stormed into the pub, fuming at the woman. He flung the door open, with his hand thrust in his coat, gripping the pistol.

‘Don’t do anything foolish now, Richard!’ The barkeep shouted, already with a rifle in his hand.

‘I heard how you acted a few days ago at Thompson’s pub. We won’t have that nonsense here.’

Richards teeth were clenched, he was heaving with angry breaths, unleashing all his rage through his looks at the prostitute who crouched under the table. She was brave looking Lawrence directly in the face.

‘Go on, do it then!’ She taunted.

‘You will leave here Mr. Lawrence, on your own accord, or on mine.’ The barkeep reminded, raising his rifle to kill Lawrence.

Lawrence let his hands down, fanning his fingers out to show he held nothing, slowly turned to the barkeep.

‘I owe this lady payment, that’s all.’ He smirked, reaching into his coat and throwing change at the cowering lady. She quickly clawed them up.

‘Good day.’ Lawrence said and left.

As he headed home, he thought about his conversation with Mr. Peabody.

‘Everybody knows me!’ He shouted to himself and he thrust his fist at the air.

‘Those whores were sent by that Peabody. I’m sure they gave that money right to him.’ Kicking mud.

‘He’s lucky it wasn’t him. I’d rather get Peabody before Jackson.’

There was a servant girl who was cleaning his shop when he returned, one of the last luxuries he could afford. She greeted him and he said nothing.
He promptly changed his clothes again, this time into an equally flamboyant outfit. The servant girl giggled slightly as he admired himself. His vanity turned to rage as his gaze moved from himself in the mirror to her, his eyes fixated on her through the mirror.

‘I’m sorry sir,’ immediately correcting herself.

‘Go now.’ He said.

She began to put the broom away.

‘NOW!’ He screamed, pulling his pistol and firing at the floor. The girl screamed and fled. Lawrence continued to groom himself as he heard the footsteps receding. He began to plan how he would outmaneuver Peabody and Jackson’s usurping of his rightful claim to his estate. He knew now there were enemies and spies at every junction, he could trust no one except himself now.

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