Sand
and Water
Sam
stared numbly from his seat in his desk chair across his office.
*****"He
was a good man. He will always be
remembered as such," the minister stated quietly. "He leaves a son and a brother. We hope- we know, that Tom Seaborn will be
reunited with his wife in the glory of Heaven and our Father. For his brother, and his son- that they will
find strength during this difficult time...."
"Lord,
hear our prayer," the congregation replied. Josh squeezed Sam's arm, trying to offer comfort to his friend,
though his own heart continued breaking at the thought of never being able to
see again the man whom he always thought of as a second father. **
Sam
sighed, with great effort. He was still in a sort of shock, unable to
comprehend what had happened. It had
only been two hours after the doctor- what was his name again?- released Thomas from the ventilator. Sam held on to the elderly man's hand,
praying prayers he had forgotten while Josh stood against the far curtain/wall
of the room, hoping to give Sam comfort, but also privacy. Then, an hour and fifty minutes later, the
complex beeping of the monitors turned into a simple hum. And that was it. Sam lowered his face against his father's mouth, pressing against
his lips. Then, somberly, he stood,
bent at the waist, and kissed Tom's forehead, whispering, "Tell Mom
hi. And that I love her." With that, he walked out of the small,
curtained room, and went directly to a payphone, starting to plan the funeral
for the following afternoon.
It
was a beautiful funeral. He was told
that so many times. A wonderful good
bye for a wonderful man. So many words,
but he didn't hear any of them. Josh
had called work earlier, telling them that he and Sam would be gone for the day
for a funeral. They had
understood.
After
the funeral, Josh dropped his mourning friend at his apartment.
"Want
me to stay, man?" he had asked, worry and sadness mixing into his voice.
"No. I need to be alone." Sam answered
stonily, while opening his door.
"Ok."
Josh answered quietly, understanding.
Sam
turned as he was about to shut the car's door behind him. "Thanks, Josh. For...everything."
Josh
nodded. "Don't mention it. I...I loved him, too, Sam."
Sam
offered a small smile to his friend, and then started to ascend the stairs of
his apartment complex. He only reached
halfway up when he turned and began descending.
He
had only intended to go for a short walk. Something- anything- to take his mind off of the day's events. But, somehow, he found himself sitting in
his office, staring idly off into the empty hallway at eleven thirty pm.
A
gentle tapping on the door caused Sam to blink and return from his
thoughts. He replied quietly,
"Come in."
A
pajama clad, robe wearing Bartlet opened the door. He entered the office carefully, not wanting to upset the already
shaken deputy.
"Mr.
President," Sam murmured, surprised. He forced his exhausted body to stand, holding onto his desk for
support. "What can I do for you,
sir?"
Jed
blinked. A secret service man had
called the president about fifteen minutes ago, awaking him from a restless
sleep. Bartlet had assumed that there
was a chance that Sam would come in after the funeral to catch up on work. He asked security to let him know if Sam
happened to come by the White House. Jed wanted to offer his young employee a few words of comfort, and maybe
friendship. However, he did not want to
force a physically and emotionally drained young man to stand and request work
at midnight.
"Sit,
Sam." The president offered as the younger man gratefully sank down into
his chair.
"Sir?"
Sam questioned, his voice wavering slightly. "What-" he cleared his throat. In a stronger, but forced voice, he continued, "Why are you
here?"
The
president pulled an idle folding chair against the wall to sit at Sam's side,
Sam swiveled his own chair to face the president, his eyes lowered slightly.
"I
heard about your father," Jed began. Sam winced softly. "All of
us- Toby, CJ, Leo, myself- we wanted to
be there with you, at the funeral," he continued gently, trying to meet
Sam's downcast glance. "We were
all praying for you today."
Sam
blinked, and glanced up quickly, only to lower his gaze again. "Thank you, sir." He answered
quietly. "I appreciate it."
Jed
ran a hand through his ruffled hair- compliments of two hours of sleep. "I guess..." He paused, searching for words to say. "I just wanted to let you know that
you're not alone, and that all of us will help you get through this. And..." He paused noticing Sam's
state. There was a shadow growing over
face, and his skin looked ashen and pale. He had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his
white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up. Seeing the late twenties young man sitting there, looking like a
defeated fifty year old....it was almost too much.
"Sam."
"Yes
sir?" Sam asked mutely.
Jed
asked the only thing that he could think of to ask. "How are you, Sam?" Jed questioned, his voice soft and
gentle, yet concerned.
Immediately
after the words had registered in Sam's mind, his lips began to quiver. He glanced up to meet Bartlet's eyes for the
first time since the president had entered the room. Jed saw the mature facade fade almost in seconds, as tears filled
Sam's eyes.
"Mr.
President," Sam searched for the words. "I don't want-- I won't cry in front of you...s-s-sir." He stuttered out the last word, a single
tear falling from his eye, rolling down his cheek.
Bartlet
inhaled slowly, his heart breaking at the younger man's attempt at strength and
resolution. "You don't have to do
that for me, son." He answered quietly.
With
that, Sam's body began to shake, and for the first time since his father's
death, tears fell from his face.
Bartlet
leaned forward and started to give Sam a hug, hoping to offer comfort. Sam's body stiffened, and was about to pull
back, but Jed continued the embrace, holding one arm around the deputy's back,
and the other holding the back of his head. In seconds, Sam leaned into the president, accepting the embrace. Sobs began to rack from his body, and
muffled shouts of mourning came from his lips.
"I
want my Dad." Sam whimpered, his voice sounding of that of a young boy,
desperate only to see his father again.
"I
know," Jed murmured gently. "I know."
They
stayed like that, the leader of the free world rocking the deputy like a child,
and murmuring soothing sounds against his hair. After about twenty minutes or so of embracing the deputy, Bartlet
realized that Sam had suddenly fallen asleep. He gently pulled back from the younger man, and leaned Sam against the
chair, lifting his legs to place on the folding chair. Then, Jed removed his robe, and placed it
over Sam as a sort of makeshift blanket.
Before
he turned off the lights and left the room, he whispered into the dark office,
"Everything's sand and water, Sam. Just remember that. Everything
but love- it's just sand and water."
All
alone I didn't like the feeling
All alone I sat and cried
All alone I had to find some meaning
In the center of the pain I felt inside
All alone I came into this world
All alone I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water, and a million years gone
by
I will see you in the light of a
thousand suns
I will hear you in the sound of the
waves
I will know you when I come, as we all
will come
Through the doors beyond the grave
All alone I heal this heart of sorrow
I can only live this day
Flesh and bone my life's bursting toward
tomorrow
And the love you send my heart still
finds it's way
All alone I came into this world
All alone I will someday die
Solid stone is just sand and water, baby
Sand and water and a million years gone
by
~end~
"Sand
and Water" is by Beth Nielsen Champan. No copyright infringement intended. No profit is made/sought from the use of her song in this fictional
work.