Gently walking through the hallway, the angular man traded his curiosity about his peculiar situation, (that of being back in his old home), for purpose. The purpose was containment of a problem. The problem was that of a young president gone astray.

The charge of his visit was given to him by Washington, who was not feeling very confident about a recent visit of his own. (See: “The Ghost of George Washington.”)

Mr. Lincoln was never one to forgo the instruction of the Founding Father, as Washington had visited him in spirit, and was always close to his heart in troubled times. So, like a soldier – on he walked.

He saw the rooms that are now filled with new-fangled boxes and cords, and wondered what purpose those glowing boxes could possibly serve. He stopped to view a room where once long ago, his dear sweet son played. His mouth opened slightly with emotion as he viewed the now silent room – and he had to fight back tears.

He thought to himself; why dear George did you send me here? I have found real peace, please let me go back.

However, being no stranger to persevering through adversity – Lincoln knew he could not linger; he needed to complete his job and get back to the angels. This ghost business, although not for him, had been put to him twice before; once during the Cuban missile crisis, and once right after September 11th, 2001.

On he walked until he reached the new young President’s bedroom. He hoped he would not scare the man or his wife, but knew that since Mr. Kennedy all presidents since have been made aware of the possibility of “the visits.” Explanation of “the visits” is part of their final security briefing, and certainly the part that brings the most surprise.

He tried the President’s bedroom door but it was locked. Locks are nothing to ghosts he thought, but still he could not penetrate the door or even simply open it. He tried and tried but the doorknob would not turn. Strange, he thought – and he let out a little chuckle.

With that, a more sinister laugh leaked out from a dark mouth behind him in the hallway. Then words followed.

“Going somewhere Abraham? – He’s not there.”

The man with the wild hair and beard chuckled again, as he stepped out of a shadow.

“He’s in Europe, meeting with the rest of my new prospects.”

“What the devil are you doing here?” Lincoln calmly declared, righting himself from jiggling the door.

“What the devil, or whom the devil indeed, comrade Lincoln. As I recall, the devil himself almost had you at one point. Then, you cowardly caved-in to that whole freedom nonsense. And for whom … slaves? You fool.”

Lincoln stood tall and said; “You enslaved millions with your ruse of the poor workers. You really cared for your people eh?” Lincoln smiled and added; “And it worked out so very well, didn’t it?”

Karl Marx seethed, though he quickly squashed it and went back to his all too familiar verbal shell game.

“Washington is so stupid, he didn’t even realize that Obama was in Europe, sending a poor old wretch like you on a fools run.”

“Mr. Marx, his eminence President George Washington, never did or does anything he doesn’t mean to, and now I know, that he knew, that you’d be here.”

Lincoln bellied a rare laugh.

Marx moved quickly almost treating Lincoln as a friend; “AMERICA CAN BE SAVED UNDER THIS LATEST CRISIS, ABRAHAM! She will surely see that the big corporations are stealing from the poor workers, and that the United States government must centralize its power and shut down evil free enterprise before it is too late! They must seize the gold barons; they must take from the wealthy and spread it on the fields of the dear workers. Lincoln, even China is instructing your precious Democracy to toughen up. And wait ’till my European friends work him over. I will teach him to do two things: kill the big companies, then overtax and kill the little companies until the only place you be able to get a job is with the state. Yes, and what a glorious state it will be. I’ve always said the biggest prize will be America but I did expect it to happen sooner. Well, good things come to those who wait,… isn’t that what you say?” he chuckled.

Marx then stopped realizing that Lincoln’s long sleep had not dulled his sense of purpose, and that he should save his pitch for his third and final visit to Pelosi.

He then tried to get under Lincoln’s skin;

“I am winning him over, Lincoln… I am gaining his confidence… he sees the way to Socialism, and is so very clever as to disguise it in this moment of financial crisis.”

“I know not what is in his heart, Mr. Marx, but I do know that if he truly prays to the God that I do,… that if he truly loves his children as I love mine, that somewhere along the way, he will see your game and right the ship. I’ve plowed a bit too in my day, Mr. Marx… and your plowshares… well, here they just won’t scour.”

Marx eyes glowed almost red with anger. This one he could never ever hope to reach. Marx turned quickly, stepped to his left, and then slowly faded away.

With Marx gone, Lincoln smiled slyly – adjusted his hat, and then of course – easily turned the doorknob and walked into the bedroom to wait.