I started writing this story while I waited for my tuba lesson to begin one day. It's a one-part story and is not connected in any way to any other stories that I either already posted or will post in the future. Just a heads-up because my next story is also along this same premise, but in a different form.

DISCLAIMER: All characters except Sarah, the principal, and anyone else not in the show belong to other people with much more power than me. I am not making any profit off of this, just having fun and taming the plot bunnies.

Another Name In a Textbook

She sat in a seat specially reserved for her on the side of the stage. A podium was set up a few feet to her left and a few feet in front of her, a hundred eighth graders were filing into the auditorium. Soon she would stand up at the podium and share her most terrible memories with these children.

She saw her granddaughter Sarah come in with her class. Sarah waved to her and she waved back, trying to keep her hand from shaking. It was because of Sarah that she was doing this. She'd been eating dinner with Sarah and her parents the other night when the conversation had turned to what Sarah was doing in school. Right as dessert was being served Sarah had turned to her and said, "Grandma, the other day we watched a documentary about what happened. I told my teacher about how you used to work there and she said that if it wasn't too much trouble, she'd love to have you come and talk to the classes."

And it hadn't been too much trouble. But now, sitting on this stage, watching them come in, she wondered if it was.

Soon they were silent, or as silent as a group of thirteen and fourteen year olds can be. The principal went up and made a few remarks, then introduced her. Sweeping her now mostly-gray blonde hair behind her ears, she stood up and walked over to the podium.

"Hello." She said, "My name is Donna Moss. I was Senior Assistant to the Deputy Chief of Staff during the Bartlet Administration. Meaning I worked for Josh Lyman."

She couldn't see anything except the spotlight they were shining on her. Were they listening?

"My granddaughter, Sarah Brewster, told me that you learned about the shootings at Rosslyn. Your teachers asked me if I would come in and tell you my version of what happened. So here it is.

"I was sitting at my desk playing Solitaire on my computer, but pretending to work in case Josh came back earlier than I thought. The TVs were on in the bullpen and when a special bulletin came on, another assistant, Kathy, came and told me what had happened. They only knew about the President's injuries right then, but I knew I had to get to the hospital. We had our procedures and my job was to be with my boss. When I got to the hospital they told me that the President was going to be okay. Then they told me about Josh. He'd been shot once and it didn't look good. We sat there in that small room for hours, waiting and praying. But then the doctor came out. I only had to see his face and I knew my boss was gone.

"There was a beautiful service and they dedicated a plaque to him in the White House lobby. They hired another man to take his job. He did a good job, got some important legislature passed, but wow, was he boring! Whenever he needed something, he'd always come up to my desk and ask nicely, not scream from his office. The Chief of Staff, Leo, never came in to yell at him. I have to admit though, that the rest of us were pretty cold to him at first. We wondered at the audacity of this man, trying to butt his way in. we never became close friends, but eventually we had a civilized professional relationship. But there was just something in the position that, no matter how hard he tried, he could not fill.

"Eventually we all moved on. Everyone but Charlie, that is. You've probably heard of him. Charlie Young, he was the President's aide and the shooters' target. He felt responsible and thought that we all blamed him for Josh's death, which none of us did. We tried to tell him that constantly but he never believed us. But eventually he pulled away from us entirely and exactly a year after the shootings, he killed himself in his home. But as for the rest of us, life slowly got better. The President served another several years, and then we all disbanded. I got married, had kids, and got old."

She looked up and was blinded by the light. "If you could please dim that." She said to the principal. He pressed a button on the podium and the light dimmed.

"But I've never forgotten Josh." She continued. "You all probably see him as just another name in a textbook, another thing to study. But he was so much more than that." Her voice wavered slightly. "He was a great man. Not everything he did worked. He never moved mountains. He always seemed to be in trouble with one person or another. But no matter what he was doing, he gave it his all. The night he died, so did everyone who knew him. We all died a little."

Toby suddenly popped into her head. He'd found him there, hovering near death. Donna had never forgotten the look on his face when the stone-faced doctor came in. Poor Toby who was now in his eighties, dying of bone cancer.

They seemed to think that she was done, because they all burst into applause. Donna felt like she should say more, but couldn't think of anything. So she smiled, feeling the tears building up on her lower eyelid. They continued to applaud politely. "Thank you." She said, and sat down.

A police officer escorted her out of the auditorium. She walked with her head bowed. Had she made any impression on these children? Did they have more of an idea who Josh really was or was he still just a name in a textbook to them?