Chapter Twenty-One
The sound of passing traffic was muted when Josh pulled the car door closed behind him. He sat in darkness for a few moments before reaching up and switching on the interior light. He pulled the plastic bag from his backpack and ran a hand over the crinkled label that was stuck to it. Sam's full name was written at the top followed by a reference number and a list of contents. Where it read 'Nokia Cell Phone' someone had written by hand, 'retained for evidence'. Josh sighed and chewed on his lower lip before unsealing the bag and emptying the contents onto the passenger seat.
Sam's wallet was the first item that he picked up. It was empty apart from a few credit cards and three photographs of Sam's parents, a dog on a beach and a couple of children that Josh didn't recognise. He placed it carefully to the side and rummaged through the other items. He picked up Sam's keys and fiddled with the brass letter H that hung from them. Sam had told him once what it stood for but he couldn't remember now. Next, Josh picked up a pen and held it closer to the light. It was expensive and had Sam's initials engraved on it. He placed it next to the wallet. He picked up a folded piece of paper and was struck at Sam's fluent script as he read the list of notes Sam had jotted down in preparation for his meeting at the Colombian Embassy. He pictured the scrawl that Sam had written to Laurie and shook his head at the disparity between the two.
There were only a few items left. Josh ignored the watch that lay in the middle of the seat and raked his hand through the remaining objects without picking them up. There was a comb, a button, a few coins, a packet of mints and Sam's pager. He put all of them back into the bag and then picked up the item that he had saved until last: Sam's watch. Josh knew that it had been a gift from his mother. It was engraved on the back with Sam's name and his official start-date at the White House. Josh winced and instinctively stuck his thumb into his mouth. He tasted the iron tint of blood as he turned the watch over and saw the broken face and jagged glass that remained on the edge of it. The hands were intact but the rim of the face was scratched. Josh wrapped it in a handkerchief and put it in his pocket. He reached up to switch off the light, started the engine and pulled into the road. Above him, Jessica watched him drive off, closed the curtains and headed back to her cathartic cleaning of Sam's home.
The first twenty minutes of Sam and John's meal had been filled with safe topics such as John's journey to Boston and a discussion about whether the restaurant was part of a chain or not. They talked briefly about what John might be asked in court the following day but John sensed that the subject was making Sam uncomfortable so he started to tell Sam about his mother. He explained that she still felt awful about not realising that he was in the house next door to her. Sam looked at the bowl of pasta as it was placed in front of him. He had really wanted a steak but he had been worried about not being able to cut it in front of John.
"There was no way she could have known. I heard him talk to her, he was very convincing," Sam explained remembering the feel of the gun against his head as Mrs Delaney has stood just feet away from him.
"Well, she feels bad anyway but she said to tell you she's thinking of you and that the flowers you sent were beautiful."
Sam smiled and shrugged. After their plates had been cleared, Sam broke into a coughing fit. He rolled his eyes at John and took a long sip of water. "I think it must be the Boston air," Sam explained. Their coffees arrived and the two men sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Sam placed his cup down and leaned forward. "I know I've said this in my letter but I hope you realise how grateful I am to you for what you did."
John waved his hand dismissively. "Anyone would have done the same thing. I was just in the-"
"No, they wouldn't, they didn't," Sam interrupted. "There was a man who drove right by me. I walked up to his car, begged him to help and he locked the door and drove off. There was a woman who saw me and she ran back into her house. Not everyone would stop, John. If you hadn't stopped I'd be dead now. It's as simple as that." John stared at Sam. He had always assumed that he had arrived just as Sam had escaped and had no idea of the scene that had played out before. "I've been thinking about it a lot, about why you stopped and that other man didn't. I wonder if he ever thinks about it, if he even remembers it." Sam picked up his cup and drained the dregs of his coffee. "Why did you stop?"
John shook his head and shrugged. "I really don't know. It's not like I made a conscious decision about whether I should or shouldn't. I suppose because it was so close to my mom's house maybe I felt what was happening concerned me. I only intended on pulling over and asking you if you were alright. Everything happened so fast, that guy with the gun appeared and I suppose some people would have driven off when they saw him but somehow you were already my responsibility. I suppose the man was as much as a threat to me as he was to you so, by then, we were pretty much in it together." John run his hand over his face and when he removed it he was smiling. "You sure picked a great person to drive the getaway car though. I didn't have a clue where I was." John had spent many nights haunted by his ride to the hospital. In every dream he was unable to find it and Sam would end up bleeding to death in his car. He was still able to appreciate the almost comic nature of his journey though and the bizarre feeling of being escorted by police cars and outriders to the hospital in his beaten up old Ford.
"I don't remember much," Sam told him.
"It's just as well! You'd have probably bailed out on me if you'd known how out of control I was. Man, I couldn't stop shaking for hours afterwards."
Sam smiled at the amazed expression on John's face as he recounted the experience. They sat for a while longer talking easily about a variety of subjects. They made plans to stay in touch and Sam told John that the President was going to arrange for him and his mother to visit the White House. As they were leaving the restaurant, John stopped in the doorway when he felt Sam's hand suddenly grab his arm. "I want to go back to the house. I want to go back. Will you arrange it for me? I don't know where it is you see. Nobody has told me where I was taken but I thought that you-"
"I'll do it, Sam. I'll phone the realtors and arrange to get the keys." Sam relaxed and held his hand out. John shook it, holding Sam's hand in both of his. Their farewells were halted by the hovering agent who ushered Sam into the car. John watched as the car disappeared from his view and then he sat on the wall outside the restaurant and phoned his mom.
Sam entered the house as quietly as he could, tiptoed across the dining room and tried to make his way to his bedroom in the dark. The room was suddenly filled with light and through squinting eyes Sam saw Laurie standing in front of him with her arms folded. "And what time do you call this?"
"Hot chocolate time?" Sam asked hopefully.
"It is," Laurie smiled and told Sam to get into bed. After the first few nights of nightmares, Laurie had made hot chocolate for them and it had become a routine. She returned with two cups and got into bed.
They snuggled under the covers together. On the TV, Columbo worked doggedly to find the killer as Sam told Laurie all about his day in court, his panic attack and his evening with John. "It's been quite a day." He placed his cup on the bedside table and went into the bathroom and Laurie followed.
"Is John taking the stand tomorrow?" Laurie asked with a mouthful of toothpaste.
"Yeah, we didn't talk about it though." Sam rinsed his mouth and then leaned against the sink and looked in the mirror at the pale man staring back at him.
"Two more days, Sam, that's all," Laurie said as she came and stood behind him.
Sam nodded and they walked back to bed together. Laurie reached over and switched off the lamp and wondered how much sleep she'd get tonight before a fist, moan or cry woke her.
John Delaney recounted his experience to the lawyer with ease. It was a tale that he had told many times. Sam sat and listened as memories of that day flashed through his mind. He knew he would be called later in the day and tried to make sense of the muddled pictures in readiness for the questions.
Sam met briefly with his lawyers after lunch and then sat down outside the courtroom and waited to be called. Jake sat silently beside him. Both men sipped from bottled water and watched the people coming and going along the corridor.
"Sam Seaborn," a woman announced from outside the courtroom and Sam handed his bottle to Jake before rising and walking towards her.
"Many people who I have spoken to have commented that Sam Seaborn seemed unwell as he took the stand on the penultimate day of this trial." The reporter stood in front of the courthouses and Toby walked towards the television and turned the volume up. "Today was spent examining the last few hours of his ordeal and his escape from the house. John Delaney, the man who rescued him from the street, testified and a number of police officers also took the stand. But today was really a summing up by both sides of Mael Gacha's role in the abduction. The jury are expected to be freed tomorrow afternoon to start their deliberations although both legal teams say they are expecting a very quick conclusion to that."
Toby switched the set off and walked back to his desk. He wanted to phone Sam but knew Josh would have been watching the coverage and would already be on the phone.
Sam sat back against the car seat and closed his eyes. The defence lawyer had been relentless in his questioning. Sam had gone over and over the final moments that had taken him from Mael's clutches and to John's car and now he found he couldn't get the reawakened images from his mind. His head hurt, his mind was reeling and he was exhausted. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket as it started to vibrate and glanced at the screen before answering. "Hi, Josh." Sam couldn't help smiling as he heard Josh's anxious voice.
"Cindy Brooke, says you looked unwell!" Josh stated as greeting.
"Cindy Brooke phoned you!" Sam replied. He knew Josh would have seen the attractive reporter on CNN but he couldn't help teasing Josh and avoiding the subject at the same time.
"On the news, Sam, it was on the news. She said you looked unwell in court today!"
"I am unwell. I'm tired, my head hurts and I've had to listen to a pile of crap about Mael's motivations all day."
"Sam-"
"Josh, I'm fine. I'll phone you later." Sam slipped the cell phone back into his pocket and stared out of the window for the rest of the journey back to Laurie's. He had already decided that he wouldn't go to court tomorrow. He couldn't face it again and he certainly couldn't face hanging around until the jury returned their verdict.
Once home, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Laurie had asked him to stay for the weekend and Sam had decided to accept. He had no desire to return to Washington and the idea of delaying the inevitable was too tempting to resist. He let the hot water stream down on him and felt the tension begin to leave his shoulders and neck. By the time he had got out of the bathroom and changed, Laurie was home.
She had become very good at gauging Sam's moods and she knew that he wasn't ready to talk about what had happened in court. Instead, she told him how her day in court had gone. Sam listened as he helped her unload the groceries.
"I think I will stay this weekend, if it's alright?" he asked as he put the last item in the fridge.
"Of course it is. I won't be home until late tomorrow though, I've got a dinner. I have to go to New York. It's for our biggest clients, I have to go and-"
Sam held his hands up, "You don't have to explain. Anyway, I think I might like a bit of time to myself."
Laurie nodded, walked over to Sam and wrapped her arms around him. "When I get back I'll show you the sights." Sam raised his eyebrows and grinned until Laurie whacked him on the head and set about pouring them both some wine.
Laurie noticed Sam left most of his meal but didn't comment. She didn't comment on how pale he looked either. It was only when she was woken by the sound of Sam retching in the bathroom that she decided to say something. "There's a clinic just round the corner, why don't you go there tomorrow and get something."
"It's fine. I'm just rundown, it's not like I've got pneumonia!"
"Not funny, Sam," she said as she rubbed his back before handing him a glass of water.
"Okay, if I still feel bad on Monday I'll go see my doctor when I get back to DC."
Laurie knew she would have to be satisfied with that but she couldn't help but worry as she lay back down next to him.
When she woke the next morning she could feel the warmth radiating from Sam. During the night he had pushed the covers away and lay on his front, one arm over Laurie and the other dangling down the side of the bed. "You're ill!" Laurie said instead of good morning. "You're hot and you look like shit."
Sam's head burrowed further into the pillow. "Been a long time since a woman woke me up to tell me I was hot…one told me I was a shit a while ago so…"
"You look awful," Laurie repeated as she reached towards him and lifted his face from the pillow.
"Laurie, it's…" he squinted at the neon digits, "five a.m, everyone looks like crap at five in the morning."
"Not you, you're the freaky immaculate type." She pulled at his shoulder until Sam reluctantly rolled over and faced her. He was about to tell her he was fine when he winced at the light in the room and covered his eyes. When he had removed his hands he could only look at her sheepishly.
"I'm going to call a doctor," Laurie said decisively as she moved from the bed. Sam's hand grabbed at her wrist.
"Don't, I'm okay, it's just been a hard week and I'm-"
"Rundown, yeah, I've got it." Laurie studied Sam as she reached over and felt his head. "You don't feel as hot as you did in the night," she agreed reluctantly.
Laurie got ready for work and then brought Sam some juice and coffee. She sat on the bed and watched him drink. "The newspaper's here, there's a carton of soup and some more juice in the fridge. I've left some painkillers in the bathroom, you know, for your thick head," she said as she tapped Sam's head ignoring his cries of protests.
"I'll be fine, phone me when you get there and thanks for all this."
"Just spend a day in bed, get some rest and be better for my tour of Boston."
Sam nodded, smiled and shuffled back down under the covers.
"Am I allowed to do that?" Bartlet asked Charlie as they walked towards the Oval Office.
"I don't think so, sir."
"I don't want to maim these people…just scare them off," he reasoned as he walked towards his desk.
"Mr President, I don't think wearing flip-flops is against the law."
"But on this carpet it should be," Bartlet said as he pointed at the seal beneath him. "I have enough to deal with, without having to look at people's feet. Couldn't I just lay down a few well-placed drawing tacks?"
"No, sir," Charlie said as he turned to leave, raising his eyes at Josh, Toby and CJ who were on their way in.
"I'm thinking of introducing a footwear code for the Oval Office," The President announced as his staff gathered around him. "The first item will be no flip-flops to be worn at any time."
"Unless for medical reasons," Josh added.
CJ was about to ask what reasons they might be when a groan from Toby stopped her. "Can we, please, can we not do this? We have issues of real importance that need discussing and as far as I can recall, nowhere on today's schedule did I see a mention of flip-flops."
Bartlet looked at Toby and then at Josh. "We can do this later, Josh," he said as he sat down behind his desk and started discussing the pressing matters of the day.
At the end of the meeting, Bartlet asked Toby and Josh to stay behind. He walked over to the sofa and gestured for them to sit down. "How's Sam?"
Josh glanced quickly at Toby before replying. "I spoke to him yesterday. He said he was fine. I think he's a bit rundown."
"When is he coming back to DC?"
Toby answered cautiously, he knew that he was really asking when Sam was coming back to work. "He's due back on Monday. I'm going to meet with him on Wednesday and we'll see where we go from there."
Bartlet nodded thoughtfully. "I want him back here."
"With all due respect, Mr President, I think the last place Sam wants to be right now is here, and I think the…"
Bartlet looked up at Toby. "Go on, Toby, you were about to say that you think the last person he wants to see right now is me."
Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes."
"I think I am too, and that's why I'm asking both of you to let me know what's happening. I don't want Leo handing me Sam's letter of resignation to be the first I hear of it. If there's a chance for me to speak to Sam…if you think that he might be ready for that then I want you to do everything you can to make sure it happens." Bartlet looked at Toby and then Josh only satisfied when and both men nodded and assured him they would.