***
Washington, D.C.
Ten minutes later
***
"Holy shit, C.J." Sam waved his free hand in the air, beckoning Josh to the
extension in the guest bedroom. "It's all over the place. Joey sent e-mail from
California. Amy called Josh's cell from Canada. This is huge."
"We got e-mail from Danny Concannon. The Vice-President's trying to deny," Josh
put in. He sounded gleeful. "How much you want to bet Schiller isn't taking his
call right now?"
"Won't take that bet, Joshua."
Sam could imagine C.J.'s smile just then. Josh, who was stalking around the
house with the cordless phone to his ear, was just one big dimple. And when Sam
looked up and saw his reflection in the glass door of the bookcase, he found
that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Listen, I know you're going to want to
talk to Toby. But I wanted you to know that Josh and I are going to get started
first thing in the morning, and Matt's been alerted, too, so he'll be mobilizing
as many people as possible."
"Thanks, guys. I owe you."
"For what? You gave us a wheelbarrow full of political capital."
C.J.'s throaty laugh was as warm as sunlight. "You guys did the research. No one
at the network took me seriously until you got me documents. So, you see, I do
owe you."
"Nah." Sam remembered how many times C.J. had bailed him out of trouble - real
and imagined - and he closed his eyes for a moment. "This is our way of saying
thanks."
"Right," Josh added, sounding a little more speculative. "Anyway, good job, and
we'll be in touch."
"You'd better. And give Nina a hug for me, would you?"
"Consider it done," Josh said.
"I think she meant me, Josh."
"Ah, yeah, right, Sam, I'm sorry. Night, C.J."
"Good night, guys."
The two men looked at each other, as close to speechless as they'd ever been.
Sam could only imagine how many things were going through Josh's mind, but he
knew what was in his own. This could change everything. Politics, religion,
social justice. Everything would be up for reform, up for the changes that were
so desperately needed. With just a few words, the world could change - or not.
Something Toby had said to him during more than one late-night writing session.
It was going to be an interesting year.
Sam went into the kitchen, where Nina was sitting at the table with a mug of tea
between her hands. "Sorry to interrupt your practicing - we really needed to
talk to C.J."
"I can imagine," Nina said. Her head was bowed and her tone was listless. Before
Sam could ask any questions, Josh bounded into the room.
"Oh, man, we are going to hang these idiots out to dry. We could see a huge
overturn in the midterms, Sam. We could get the House back and keep the Senate
by a comfortable margin. Not to mention state races."
"Indeed," Sam said, getting back into the swing of Josh's enthusiasm. "Policy
initiatives - women's issues alone could be--"
Josh interrupted, looking into the middle distance as if he couldn't even hear
Sam. "It's going to be time to revisit everything. Everything! And all because
of this list."
Nina whispered something that made Josh freeze in his tracks but that Sam didn't
hear. "What?"
"I said I've read the books. All of them." She looked up at Josh, her expression
frozen in a mask of anger. "Am I going to be on someone's list?"
"You've read the books? All of them?" Josh's voice was high.
"Yes. I've read them. I enjoyed them the way I'd enjoy a movie. They're not
great literature, but they're inventive and entertaining, and they do have a
message to them."
"Do you agree with what that message?" Josh demanded as he leaned on the table
and met Nina's gaze.
"I'm a Christian."
"You--"
"Josh, stop it!" Sam interjected.
"Let him finish," Nina said, propping her chin on one hand while stirring her
tea into a froth with the other. "Let him get it off his chest."
Josh began to sputter half-formed sentences. "Get what...I haven't...you
honestly expect..."
"Okay, that's enough." Sam put his hand on Josh's arm and moved him away from
the table. "Nina, no one in this room is saying that people can't read whatever
the hell they want to read. And no one's putting you on a list. You're not a
civil servant. You don't design or implement the laws of the land."
"So only civil servants are going to be prohibited from reading certain works of
fiction?"
"That's not what I mean! I mean that basing one's political views on a work of
fiction is a pretty slippery slope." Sam paused. "And what is it, exactly, that
you think Josh is trying to do?"
"He knows," Nina muttered.
"Actually, I don't," Josh replied in a tight voice. "So why don't you enlighten
me?"
Nina took a sip of tea, then put the mug back on the table. "You and Toby have
this thing. He does the whole 'I'm a better Jew than you are because I care more
about such-and-such' routine, and you fall for it every time. Every time, Josh.
You're like Old Faithful, spouting off on some religious tangent whenever Toby
does something you perceive as condescending."
Sam thought back on a few things and grimaced.
"So you think I'm only doing this because Toby wrote some essays for the New
Yorker on the European immigrant waves at the turn of the 20th century?" Josh
shook off Sam's arm and sat down opposite Nina. "You think I only care that
these bozos who try to run our country want me gone, or preferably dead and
gone, because I need to get even with Toby?"
"Possibly," she said. "And I can see the wheels turning, Josh, so don't try to
tell me that your only interest in the C.A.P. is to ask what you can do for your
country."
Josh nodded sharply. "And don't try to tell me that your only interest in those
books is entertainment. You want to get a preview of Toby and and me, roasting
in Hell."
"Josh, no!" Nina reached out to him but he pulled away. "Not all Christians are
like that! I'm not!"
Sam pressed his lips together and said nothing. Better to let them hash this out
between them.
"I read the books, but I didn't drink the Kool Aid," Nina continued. "That said,
I don't agree with all of the ideology just because I'm exposed to it - I've
seen 'Star Wars' several times, but I don't believe in the Force."
"You didn't think that the series depicts non-Christians in a derogatory
fashion? That some people might respond to that with hatred and even violence?"
Nina glared at him. "Can't we trust the average American to read 'End of Days'
and think it's interesting without suddenly becoming brainwashed by it? I read
'Huckleberry Finn' but have never used the 'n' word, and I read 'Lady
Chatterley's Lover' without becoming obsessed with sex. Should we get rid of
books that aren't politically correct? Is that really what you want - censoring
books that you find offensive? Josh, you've always been right in front of every
movement to keep libraries free and open, to keep controversial books available
in schools. The minute you start banning books will be the moment I tell you to
leave my house and never set foot in it again."
It was the longest speech Sam had ever heard Nina make. And it was the longest
time Sam had ever seen Josh stand in stunned silence.
Then he got the biggest surprise of all.
"You're right," Josh said softly. He got up and wandered over to the window for
a moment, the cool blue moonlight washing over his face. "About all of it. I do
get juiced up over Toby's 'I'm less Reform than you' attitude, and sometimes I
get paranoid as a result. And sometimes I do think that Christians all hate
Jews. But then I remember what you said to Edgar Drummond and I know that I'm
wrong." Josh had moved behind Nina as he spoke, leaning over and putting his
arms around her neck. She leaned her cheek against his forearm and smiled.
"You can be such an advocate, Josh. You can stand up for so much that's good and
noble. But sometimes you're just so full of shit that I can't breathe."
"You want us to call this off?" Sam inquired.
"Not at all." Nina sat up straighter and beckoned Sam to join her at the table.
"These guys are complete nutcases who need to be removed from public service -
and I use the word 'service' loosely- as soon as possible."
"So what the hell...?" Josh frowned.
"Checks and balances. Donna used to be your reality check, but she's gone over
to the Dark Side and now I'm the only average person you know."
"You're hardly what I'd call average," Josh protested. "You're about sixty times
smarter than most of the people on the Hill."
"Josh, the rag I clean my viola with is...well, you know." She extricated
herself from his embrace and stood up. "Anyway. I just wanted you to think
before you lumped the whole of Christianity in with these not-so-shining
examples. And took my husband with you."
"I think she's saying we need a chaperone," Sam said, chuckling. "So we'll call
C.J. in the morning and ask her to talk to someone - maybe Al Caldwell - and get
a more moderate opinion." He looked at Nina, saw the sparkle in her eyes and the
way she held her head high. Wow. Wow. He completely lost his train of thought.
Josh grinned. "I think you two need the chaperone. Or not. I'm gonna be..." He
cocked his head toward the front door. "See you tomorrow."
Sam couldn't remember, hours later, if Josh had locked the door on his way out.
But Nina was in his arms, warm and cozy, and he'd be damned if he was going to
get up and check.
***
Washington, D.C.
February
***
"Matt, the Reverend Al Caldwell is out here, and he'd like to see you if you
have a moment."
This was the last person on earth he expected to see in his office, and he knew
he sounded puzzled as he spoke into the intercom. "Send him in," he said, then
stood up and straightened his tie.
"Thank you so much for seeing me." Caldwell was older, huskier, and carried
himself with the stiffness of increasing age. His handshake was as firm as ever,
and his expression as kindly. "I won't be long."
"Please, Reverend, have a seat." Matt waited until Caldwell was seated, then
took his place behind the desk. "I'm honored that you came to visit. And, well,
a little surprised."
"I've been to see Sam Seaborn, and he said I should come talk to you. If that's
all right."
"It's more than all right. What can I do for you?" He smiled with genuine
warmth, remembering some of Sam's remarks about Caldwell and some of what
Caldwell had been doing since C.J.'s interview had aired.
Investigations had piled up on top of investigations, and Toby wrote that the
R.N.C. was spinning like a drunk dreidl. And, in the middle of everything,
Reverend Al Caldwell had gone on a series of programs saying that he was shocked
and saddened by the real nature of the C.A.P. That he'd been wrong to support
them. That it was the duty of Christians everywhere to throw off the shackles of
mindless hatred and embrace all people, regardless of what they believed or
didn't believe.
Caldwell had been able to calm people's fears even as the fabric of America
politics began to be rewoven. Sam had been particularly hopeful, and that
optimism always managed to wear off on Matt as well.
"I'll get right to the point, Senator. I spoke with Jed Bartlet last night, at
great length, about what you and Sam - and Josh - are trying to accomplish. He
told me that it is not your intent to overthrow the government."
"Well, we sort of are the government," Matt said, "but I do understand your
concern."
"He also told me that you are a man of high principles, and that he regards you
as one of the finest minds of your generation."
That was the highest praise Matt could imagine. He had a hard time catching his
breath. "I appreciate that."
"Don't tell me, tell him," Caldwell said, waving his hand in a direction that
might or might not have indicated New Hampshire. "I know that you and Sam mean
well, but a lot of what Sam says gets run through Josh's filters. Sometimes I
don't think he understands how hurtful some of his speeches are. How divisive.
Now, I appreciate that you've toned down the rhetoric since C.J.'s...interesting
interview with John VanDyke. But I'd like to help you do more."
"To do...what, exactly?" Matt asked, folding his hands on the desk and looking
keenly at Caldwell.
"To mend the fences. To help the adjustment of millions of Christian Americans
who have always thought, in all honesty and innocence, that their way was the
only way to run a nation. To find the genuinely good people who've been
disenfranchised and make them understand that they won't be ostracized for
expressing what they feel." He paused. "I believe you understand that goal as
well as anyone in the Senate."
Tauntings, beatings. Torment. The attempted ouster from the Senate, just as
agonizing a bullying tactic as anything he'd endured as a teenager or a young
man.
"I don't believe in some of the Democratic Party's platforms. But I do believe
in you, and in Sam, and - heaven help me - even in Josh. So I'm here to offer my
support to the bipartisan effort to help heal the wounds that the C.A.P. caused.
I'm at your service."
Every positive word Sam had ever spoken about Caldwell rang in Matt's brain. "I
can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate that. And how much it means that
you came to me. After all, I'm pretty...different."
"Well, son," Caldwell said as he rose to take his leave. "some of my best
friends are..."
Matt stared at him. Surely he's not going to say...
"...Methodist."
Any meeting that ended with laughter, Matt reflected as he walked Caldwell to
the elevator, was surely the beginning of something extraordinary.
***
Part three
Washington, D.C.
Ten minutes later
***
"Holy shit, C.J." Sam waved his free hand in the air, beckoning Josh to the
extension in the guest bedroom. "It's all over the place. Joey sent e-mail from
California. Amy called Josh's cell from Canada. This is huge."
"We got e-mail from Danny Concannon. The Vice-President's trying to deny," Josh
put in. He sounded gleeful. "How much you want to bet Schiller isn't taking his
call right now?"
"Won't take that bet, Joshua."
Sam could imagine C.J.'s smile just then. Josh, who was stalking around the
house with the cordless phone to his ear, was just one big dimple. And when Sam
looked up and saw his reflection in the glass door of the bookcase, he found
that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Listen, I know you're going to want to
talk to Toby. But I wanted you to know that Josh and I are going to get started
first thing in the morning, and Matt's been alerted, too, so he'll be mobilizing
as many people as possible."
"Thanks, guys. I owe you."
"For what? You gave us a wheelbarrow full of political capital."
C.J.'s throaty laugh was as warm as sunlight. "You guys did the research. No one
at the network took me seriously until you got me documents. So, you see, I do
owe you."
"Nah." Sam remembered how many times C.J. had bailed him out of trouble - real
and imagined - and he closed his eyes for a moment. "This is our way of saying
thanks."
"Right," Josh added, sounding a little more speculative. "Anyway, good job, and
we'll be in touch."
"You'd better. And give Nina a hug for me, would you?"
"Consider it done," Josh said.
"I think she meant me, Josh."
"Ah, yeah, right, Sam, I'm sorry. Night, C.J."
"Good night, guys."
The two men looked at each other, as close to speechless as they'd ever been.
Sam could only imagine how many things were going through Josh's mind, but he
knew what was in his own. This could change everything. Politics, religion,
social justice. Everything would be up for reform, up for the changes that were
so desperately needed. With just a few words, the world could change - or not.
Something Toby had said to him during more than one late-night writing session.
It was going to be an interesting year.
Sam went into the kitchen, where Nina was sitting at the table with a mug of tea
between her hands. "Sorry to interrupt your practicing - we really needed to
talk to C.J."
"I can imagine," Nina said. Her head was bowed and her tone was listless. Before
Sam could ask any questions, Josh bounded into the room.
"Oh, man, we are going to hang these idiots out to dry. We could see a huge
overturn in the midterms, Sam. We could get the House back and keep the Senate
by a comfortable margin. Not to mention state races."
"Indeed," Sam said, getting back into the swing of Josh's enthusiasm. "Policy
initiatives - women's issues alone could be--"
Josh interrupted, looking into the middle distance as if he couldn't even hear
Sam. "It's going to be time to revisit everything. Everything! And all because
of this list."
Nina whispered something that made Josh freeze in his tracks but that Sam didn't
hear. "What?"
"I said I've read the books. All of them." She looked up at Josh, her expression
frozen in a mask of anger. "Am I going to be on someone's list?"
"You've read the books? All of them?" Josh's voice was high.
"Yes. I've read them. I enjoyed them the way I'd enjoy a movie. They're not
great literature, but they're inventive and entertaining, and they do have a
message to them."
"Do you agree with what that message?" Josh demanded as he leaned on the table
and met Nina's gaze.
"I'm a Christian."
"You--"
"Josh, stop it!" Sam interjected.
"Let him finish," Nina said, propping her chin on one hand while stirring her
tea into a froth with the other. "Let him get it off his chest."
Josh began to sputter half-formed sentences. "Get what...I haven't...you
honestly expect..."
"Okay, that's enough." Sam put his hand on Josh's arm and moved him away from
the table. "Nina, no one in this room is saying that people can't read whatever
the hell they want to read. And no one's putting you on a list. You're not a
civil servant. You don't design or implement the laws of the land."
"So only civil servants are going to be prohibited from reading certain works of
fiction?"
"That's not what I mean! I mean that basing one's political views on a work of
fiction is a pretty slippery slope." Sam paused. "And what is it, exactly, that
you think Josh is trying to do?"
"He knows," Nina muttered.
"Actually, I don't," Josh replied in a tight voice. "So why don't you enlighten
me?"
Nina took a sip of tea, then put the mug back on the table. "You and Toby have
this thing. He does the whole 'I'm a better Jew than you are because I care more
about such-and-such' routine, and you fall for it every time. Every time, Josh.
You're like Old Faithful, spouting off on some religious tangent whenever Toby
does something you perceive as condescending."
Sam thought back on a few things and grimaced.
"So you think I'm only doing this because Toby wrote some essays for the New
Yorker on the European immigrant waves at the turn of the 20th century?" Josh
shook off Sam's arm and sat down opposite Nina. "You think I only care that
these bozos who try to run our country want me gone, or preferably dead and
gone, because I need to get even with Toby?"
"Possibly," she said. "And I can see the wheels turning, Josh, so don't try to
tell me that your only interest in the C.A.P. is to ask what you can do for your
country."
Josh nodded sharply. "And don't try to tell me that your only interest in those
books is entertainment. You want to get a preview of Toby and and me, roasting
in Hell."
"Josh, no!" Nina reached out to him but he pulled away. "Not all Christians are
like that! I'm not!"
Sam pressed his lips together and said nothing. Better to let them hash this out
between them.
"I read the books, but I didn't drink the Kool Aid," Nina continued. "That said,
I don't agree with all of the ideology just because I'm exposed to it - I've
seen 'Star Wars' several times, but I don't believe in the Force."
"You didn't think that the series depicts non-Christians in a derogatory
fashion? That some people might respond to that with hatred and even violence?"
Nina glared at him. "Can't we trust the average American to read 'End of Days'
and think it's interesting without suddenly becoming brainwashed by it? I read
'Huckleberry Finn' but have never used the 'n' word, and I read 'Lady
Chatterley's Lover' without becoming obsessed with sex. Should we get rid of
books that aren't politically correct? Is that really what you want - censoring
books that you find offensive? Josh, you've always been right in front of every
movement to keep libraries free and open, to keep controversial books available
in schools. The minute you start banning books will be the moment I tell you to
leave my house and never set foot in it again."
It was the longest speech Sam had ever heard Nina make. And it was the longest
time Sam had ever seen Josh stand in stunned silence.
Then he got the biggest surprise of all.
"You're right," Josh said softly. He got up and wandered over to the window for
a moment, the cool blue moonlight washing over his face. "About all of it. I do
get juiced up over Toby's 'I'm less Reform than you' attitude, and sometimes I
get paranoid as a result. And sometimes I do think that Christians all hate
Jews. But then I remember what you said to Edgar Drummond and I know that I'm
wrong." Josh had moved behind Nina as he spoke, leaning over and putting his
arms around her neck. She leaned her cheek against his forearm and smiled.
"You can be such an advocate, Josh. You can stand up for so much that's good and
noble. But sometimes you're just so full of shit that I can't breathe."
"You want us to call this off?" Sam inquired.
"Not at all." Nina sat up straighter and beckoned Sam to join her at the table.
"These guys are complete nutcases who need to be removed from public service -
and I use the word 'service' loosely- as soon as possible."
"So what the hell...?" Josh frowned.
"Checks and balances. Donna used to be your reality check, but she's gone over
to the Dark Side and now I'm the only average person you know."
"You're hardly what I'd call average," Josh protested. "You're about sixty times
smarter than most of the people on the Hill."
"Josh, the rag I clean my viola with is...well, you know." She extricated
herself from his embrace and stood up. "Anyway. I just wanted you to think
before you lumped the whole of Christianity in with these not-so-shining
examples. And took my husband with you."
"I think she's saying we need a chaperone," Sam said, chuckling. "So we'll call
C.J. in the morning and ask her to talk to someone - maybe Al Caldwell - and get
a more moderate opinion." He looked at Nina, saw the sparkle in her eyes and the
way she held her head high. Wow. Wow. He completely lost his train of thought.
Josh grinned. "I think you two need the chaperone. Or not. I'm gonna be..." He
cocked his head toward the front door. "See you tomorrow."
Sam couldn't remember, hours later, if Josh had locked the door on his way out.
But Nina was in his arms, warm and cozy, and he'd be damned if he was going to
get up and check.
***
Washington, D.C.
February
***
"Matt, the Reverend Al Caldwell is out here, and he'd like to see you if you
have a moment."
This was the last person on earth he expected to see in his office, and he knew
he sounded puzzled as he spoke into the intercom. "Send him in," he said, then
stood up and straightened his tie.
"Thank you so much for seeing me." Caldwell was older, huskier, and carried
himself with the stiffness of increasing age. His handshake was as firm as ever,
and his expression as kindly. "I won't be long."
"Please, Reverend, have a seat." Matt waited until Caldwell was seated, then
took his place behind the desk. "I'm honored that you came to visit. And, well,
a little surprised."
"I've been to see Sam Seaborn, and he said I should come talk to you. If that's
all right."
"It's more than all right. What can I do for you?" He smiled with genuine
warmth, remembering some of Sam's remarks about Caldwell and some of what
Caldwell had been doing since C.J.'s interview had aired.
Investigations had piled up on top of investigations, and Toby wrote that the
R.N.C. was spinning like a drunk dreidl. And, in the middle of everything,
Reverend Al Caldwell had gone on a series of programs saying that he was shocked
and saddened by the real nature of the C.A.P. That he'd been wrong to support
them. That it was the duty of Christians everywhere to throw off the shackles of
mindless hatred and embrace all people, regardless of what they believed or
didn't believe.
Caldwell had been able to calm people's fears even as the fabric of America
politics began to be rewoven. Sam had been particularly hopeful, and that
optimism always managed to wear off on Matt as well.
"I'll get right to the point, Senator. I spoke with Jed Bartlet last night, at
great length, about what you and Sam - and Josh - are trying to accomplish. He
told me that it is not your intent to overthrow the government."
"Well, we sort of are the government," Matt said, "but I do understand your
concern."
"He also told me that you are a man of high principles, and that he regards you
as one of the finest minds of your generation."
That was the highest praise Matt could imagine. He had a hard time catching his
breath. "I appreciate that."
"Don't tell me, tell him," Caldwell said, waving his hand in a direction that
might or might not have indicated New Hampshire. "I know that you and Sam mean
well, but a lot of what Sam says gets run through Josh's filters. Sometimes I
don't think he understands how hurtful some of his speeches are. How divisive.
Now, I appreciate that you've toned down the rhetoric since C.J.'s...interesting
interview with John VanDyke. But I'd like to help you do more."
"To do...what, exactly?" Matt asked, folding his hands on the desk and looking
keenly at Caldwell.
"To mend the fences. To help the adjustment of millions of Christian Americans
who have always thought, in all honesty and innocence, that their way was the
only way to run a nation. To find the genuinely good people who've been
disenfranchised and make them understand that they won't be ostracized for
expressing what they feel." He paused. "I believe you understand that goal as
well as anyone in the Senate."
Tauntings, beatings. Torment. The attempted ouster from the Senate, just as
agonizing a bullying tactic as anything he'd endured as a teenager or a young
man.
"I don't believe in some of the Democratic Party's platforms. But I do believe
in you, and in Sam, and - heaven help me - even in Josh. So I'm here to offer my
support to the bipartisan effort to help heal the wounds that the C.A.P. caused.
I'm at your service."
Every positive word Sam had ever spoken about Caldwell rang in Matt's brain. "I
can't begin to tell you how much I appreciate that. And how much it means that
you came to me. After all, I'm pretty...different."
"Well, son," Caldwell said as he rose to take his leave. "some of my best
friends are..."
Matt stared at him. Surely he's not going to say...
"...Methodist."
Any meeting that ended with laughter, Matt reflected as he walked Caldwell to
the elevator, was surely the beginning of something extraordinary.
***
Part three