Chapter Twenty-Four

Josh and Sam were next to useless at work the next day. Toby had known something was not right the moment he had stepped into Sam's office. Josh was sitting in Sam's chair, his head resting on his folded arms on the desk. Sam was sitting in the visitor's chair in a similar apathetic state.

"Did I miss something? Was there a speechwriting emergency that I missed?" he asked as he walked over and pulled up the blind. Sam began to reply but the sudden influx of light made him groan. Toby turned and looked at Sam's confused squint. "I'm asking if your current state of lethargy is due to having to work all night or is it perhaps possible that you are both hung over." He shouted the words 'hung over' and it caused Josh's head to shoot upwards. Toby caught sight of Josh's swollen lip but concentrated instead on his fumbling words.

"Me and I and Sam got together last night and we were…strategising…about…" Josh looked at Sam helplessly.

"The plight of the small business owner," Sam replied and the hidden reference to Team Toby's Tidies made Josh giggle in a way most unbefitting of a member of the President's Senior Staff.

Toby wouldn't dare admit it, but the sight of his deputy finally looking relaxed and happy made the fact that he and Josh had come into work in such a state irrelevant. He didn't even mind that the private joke between the two men that had caused the grin on Sam's face was probably about him. He guessed they had fought last night but whatever had caused the disagreement certainly seemed to be behind them now. "Get out of my deputy's office," he shot at Josh. Sam smiled but it vanished when Toby turned his attention to him. "And you, get some coffee and put on a tie or something you look like…like…un-Sam-like is what you look like."

It took more than one coffee to make Sam feel even semi-Sam-like again. He didn't see Josh until late in the afternoon. Donna passed his office on her way to the Mess and told Sam she was going to get Josh some water and soup and then scolded him for letting him drink so much. Sam smiled; this was normal, things were almost normal again.

Twenty-four hours later, Sam was being driven by Toby along a street he didn't recognise, wondering what the hell he was doing and craving the relative normalcy of being told off by Donna for getting Josh drunk.

He glanced at the house numbers but stopped looking when he saw John Delaney standing by the road further ahead. His stomach churned as he recognised the hedge that he had walked beside when he had escaped from the house. Like a distorted childhood memory, the size of the hedge was considerably smaller than he had remembered it being.

Toby pulled up behind John's car and switched off the engine. "You don't have to do this, you know. No one's going to think worse of you if you don't want to do this." When Toby had found out about Sam's plans to visit the house where he had been held captive, he had told him that he thought it was a bad idea. But, as the days passed and Sam became even more determined to go through with his plan, Toby stopped objecting but insisted on going with him.

Sam opened the door but turned to Toby before getting out. "I'll think worse of me," he answered simply and walked over to meet John who was waiting for him outside his mother's house. "I'm really grateful for this, John. Were the realtors okay?"

"I told you, it's no problem." John studied Sam who looked like he didn't have a clue what to do next. "Listen, I know you said that you wanted to do this on your own but if you want me to hang around I'd be more than-"

"No, it's okay, really. You've already taken time off work to get the key and meet me. I'll be fine. I just want to go in, have a look around and then get back to work myself."

John felt his stomach lurch at Sam's detached words. He made it sound like he was a prospective buyer of the house rather than going to revisit a building in which he must have experienced hell. "Okay, if you're sure. I've left it unlocked my mom's got the key and she'll keep an eye out and lock up after you. You can go up the drive or cut through here and go by the back." Sam nodded and absently shook John's hand before turning and squeezing through the gap in the hedge that took him to the house where he hoped to rid himself of some of the fear that was still invading his life.

Sam walked around the back of the house. None of it held any memories for him and he congratulated himself on how he was coping. His sense of composure soon dissipated though as he walked around to the front. The door was open and the same streak of light that had heralded his bid to freedom cut across the hallway. He pushed the door slowly and then closed it behind him causing the light to shrink and then vanish. Sam stood for a few moments until he had grown accustomed to the dim light inside. The doors to the rooms had been left open. Sam stood still looking at the doors and trying to decide which room of memories he wanted to enter first. Slowly he walked towards the end of the hallway where Incul, Javier and Mael had slept. He had never been in the room and whenever he had used the toilet the door to it had been closed. He pushed the door with his toe and peeked inside. The room was completely empty. He shut the door firmly and walked to the other side of the hall.

The bathroom was just as empty as the first room had been. Sam pictured his captors' possessions scattered around the sink. He had a sudden desire to know what had happened to the can of deodorant he had used to facilitate his escape. He wondered if it was in a bag somewhere in the precinct waiting to be returned to Javier or Incul. Sam frowned at the bizarre thought and pulled the door closed.

There were two rooms left. He walked back towards the front door. On the left was the kitchen and the right was the room he had been held in. As he walked, he passed a door on his right. He couldn't remember there being another room and for a moment his curiosity outdid his fear. He saw a light-switch by the side of the door and flipped it before pushing the door wide open. As soon as he did, a damp, musty smell made his stomach churn. He had forgotten the basement. He had forgotten being dragged down the stairs and then lying on the floor after being beaten until he was dragged back up them. His breath caught in his throat and he held onto the doorjamb until he had recovered from the onslaught of memories that the smell had reawakened. He pulled the door to so violently that the bathroom door rattled in sympathy.

Sam closed his eyes and slowly forced the images out of his mind. He looked at the kitchen across the hallway and pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards it. Sam knew he had failed. He knew that his plan to come here to try to put some of the fear to rest, had failed. All he was doing was reawakening memories to add to his already crowded nightmares. He had to finish it though. He couldn't leave now and let fear beat him again.

He hadn't remembered the squeak of the kitchen door until he heard it again. The squeak had meant that food, uneatable, foul food was on its way. He tensed now like he had tensed then and unconsciously rubbed at his neck as he walked further into the room. The loaves of bread were gone; that was his first thought and again he chastised himself for having such unrealistic notions about what he would find in the rooms. He walked over to the table and stood by it for a while. His fingers brushed over the pine surface and followed the grooves that Incul's gun had made when it had missed Sam's hand. He closed his eyes tightly against the sight of the gun held above Incul's head before the first blow. In a flash of rage that took him by surprise, he slammed his fist hard onto the table, the sound managing to lessen the echoes of Incul's gun hitting his hand and helping to dissipate the images of his hand being held down by Mael.

Sam turned abruptly and walked from the room. Again he pulled the door tightly closed behind him. He hoped to trap all the memories in the rooms, he hoped to lock them away but he knew now that it would take more than a closed door to trap the images and fear that haunted him.

There was one room left. Sam stood in the hallway and stared at the door that was slightly open. He kicked it fully open with his toe but remained standing in the hallway. A deep breath, a quick swallow to quell the sudden nausea and he walked slowly into the room. The bed had moved. It had been placed against the far wall and above it the boards had been pulled from the window. The piece of curtain that hung from the window now lay on the floor by the bed. Sam pulled at his collar which had become unbearably tight and walked towards the sink. There weren't any cigarette butts floating in the water, there was no water just a steady drip from the faucet that beat out a rhythm three times slower than Sam's heartbeat.

Sam felt a prickly sensation run down his back and he spun round. Blood was pumping furiously in his ears and he had to strain to hear anything else. He peeked out at the hallway and finding it empty returned to the room and sank down on the bed. The bedding was gone but the thin mattress remained, its smell instantly taking Sam back to the hours he had spent coiled up on it. He jumped up from the bed and ran from the room slamming the door behind him. Images, long repressed, were bombarding him and with them came the fear as raw as when he had first felt it.

He fumbled with the front door, the action only serving to remind him of his fumbled escape from the house. He ran outside leaving the door swinging behind him. In his haste to get away he ran along the path and stumbled against the bush that led to the road. The memories continued to assault him compounded by his unwitting reconstruction of his escape from the house.

Finally, he found himself in an open space and bent over, resting his hands on his knees and taking deep breaths. The curtains twitched behind him as Mrs Delaney peered through them. In front of him, Toby folded his paper, threw the cigar out of the window and got out of his car.

"Come on, it's okay." Sam felt his arm being pulled and followed Toby to the car. He heard the door shut and felt the car rock as Toby got in beside him. "I knew this was a bad idea," Toby mumbled before saying more loudly. "You alright? Can I…what can I do?"

Sam shook his head and continued to take deep breaths his knuckles white from their death grip on his knees. Toby waited. Once Sam's breathing had evened out Toby pulled his seatbelt across and clipped it in beckoning for Sam to do the same. "Where do you want to go?" he asked as he watched Sam fumble with the belt. He was so sure that Sam would say home or work that Sam's reply made him turn in his seat towards him. "You sure?" Sam nodded and Toby shook his head and pulled onto the road, headed for the National Art Gallery.

"Josh brought me here," Sam explained as he led Toby through the ticket barrier and towards the Sculpture Garden. "He comes here to think."

"Does he?" Toby asked equally impressed as Sam had been when Josh had said it to him.

"No," Sam replied and smiled as he walked towards the fountain in the centre of the green.

The sound of the water coupled with bird song conspired to rid Sam of the images that lingered from the house. He placed his hands behind him on the ledge of the fountain and lifted his face to the sun. Toby uncrossed his legs and tried to make himself comfortable. Both men removed their jackets and loosened their ties. "Do you want to grab an ice cream?" Sam asked and he was up and walking towards the kiosk before Toby could answer.

A little girl ran by Toby a balloon bobbing above her. Toby remembered the elevator and the child with the balloon. 'It a girl, it a girl, it a girl'.

"Toby?" Sam's voice brought Toby back to the present. "I was saying, what time do we need to be back?"

"No time, there's no rush, I've got nothing scheduled." Toby scooped the last of the ice cream from his tub and threw the container in the trash. "Where do you want to go now?"

The man seemed to know so much about the bells at the Old Post Office Tower that Toby wondered why he didn't set up as a tour guide and charge for the service he was unwittingly offering. He and Sam stood behind him and listened as he told his wife the history of the bells. The man's homily was interrupted though when his wife complained that she didn't spend five dollars on a guide book to listen to him droning on.

Sam stepped up to where the man had been and looked at the diagram of the bells.

Toby put his hands in his pockets, uninterested in improving his knowledge of DC history and happy to just watch the people passing and to enjoy his unexpected time out of the office.

"We should get back to work," Sam said as he turned away from the notice board and walked towards Toby.

Toby stayed where he was. He knew the last place Sam wanted to be was the White House and so he waited for him to tell him the real reason for his sudden desire to leave. Sam sat down on a bench and Toby joined him.

"Tell me about the bells again. Ron told me but I didn't really take it in. He said something about a man called Gordon or Gary-"

"Graham," Toby interrupted and proceeded to tell Sam about Graham and his wires and machines and how he had taped the sound of the bells when Sam had called Leo.

The popcorn and soda that Sam and Toby had while they watched a documentary about Washington in the Post Office theatre was enough to keep them going as they walked around the tropical greenhouse room at the Botanic Gardens.

After a lengthy speech by Sam on the possible relative humidity in the room, Toby stopped and sighed. "What am I doing?" he asked as he wiped at his moist forehead.

"You're playing hooky, Toby," Sam explained. "We're hookying."

"Well, there's no such word and even if there was, we're not, we're just-"

"Playing hooky, is what we're doing, and I gotta say, you're turning out to be quite a fine hookying partner."

"There's no such word! It's just hooky, I am playing hooky, we are playing hooky, yesterday we played hooky, tomorrow we will be playing hooky."

The gardener tending to the giant ferns turned as the men walked behind him and stared after them until he could no longer see them or hear their bizarre conversation.

"I'm hiding behind a pillar," Toby mumbled, "I'm standing behind a pillar in the US Department of Commerce because Sam wants to see the giant shark tank in the Washington Aquarium."

"You're overreacting. It's not my fault the aquarium's in the basement of the commerce building. Anyway, that probably wasn't Senator Matthews, probably just someone who looked like him. You know what, I think if we make for those stairs now we can get there before the Senator comes back."

Toby mumbled something and followed him as he walked quickly towards the entrance to the aquarium. Minutes later he was silently standing beside Sam watching the sharks gliding effortlessly through the water. He turned and looked at Sam. The light reflected from the water rippled across his face. Toby smiled at the look of wonder on Sam's face and then turned his attention back to the sharks.

"Forty-four," Sam announced as he hurried to catch up with Toby.

"Forty-four what?"

"That's how many Elms we've walked by. There are 2000 along the Mall and

they're-"

"You're counting the Elms?" Toby asked incredulously.

"Well yeah, aren't you?

"No!"

"I'm just not convinced that there are 2000. I mean, you think the guy that planted these planted exactly 2000? I don't know much about botany, but I know that seeds are pretty small and I think that if-"

"Oh God, I think I preferred it when you were trying to conjugate the verb 'hooky'."

They walked on enjoying the sunshine punctuated by the shadows from the Elms. "If I was the guy who planted the Elms I think I'd have planted 2003 just to see if-"

"Shut up!"

"Okay," Sam agreed and they walked on in silence.

When they pulled up outside Sam's apartment later that evening Josh was sitting on the steps waiting for them.

"Where have you been?" he said before they had even reached the first step.

"We took some personal time," Toby explained.

"We work at the White House, we don't get personal time."

"We were playing hooky," Sam whispered as he passed Josh and keyed in the code to open the door.

"Leo said you were called away to the Hill." Josh was close to whining.

"Leo obviously places personal time more highly for his staff than you do." Toby pushed past Josh and followed Sam up the stairs.

"Why didn't you ask me? I'm great at playing hooky. They used to call me the Hooky Master at high school."

"It was spontaneous," Sam explained opening the door to his apartment and throwing his coat over a chair.

"The best hooky usually is," Josh said as he went straight to Sam's fridge and pulled out three beers.

"We got you something though." Sam picked up his coat and rummaged in the pockets. "Here."

Josh took the proffered gift and pulled it out of the bag. "I saw the sharks at Washington Aquarium," he read from the bright green pen. "Thanks but, you know, I didn't see the sharks. It should say 'I would have seen the sharks if my friends had let me play hooky with them'."

Sam sat down heavily on the sofa and reached for a beer. Josh passed him one before sitting down next to him. "The next important piece of paper I sign, I'm gonna sign it with this," he said holding the pen up before tucking it into his pocket.

"Atta' boy," Sam mumbled as he closed his eyes and let his head sink into the cushions. They sat in silence, enjoying the cold beer. When Sam fell asleep, Toby told Josh about the events that had led to their day out of the office. He told him how proud he was of Sam and how, for the first time since he had been kidnapped, he had glimpsed the old Sam that at times they had feared would not return.

"You should tell him that," Josh replied as he peeled the label from his bottle.

"I will, right after I tell him that I think it's time he talked to the President."

"You should probably tell him you're proud of him before you tell him that. In fact, I'd tell him before and after just to be on the safe side."

"I will and I'll keep telling him because I am proud of him, and I don't think I've told him that enough, and I thank God everyday that I got the chance to."

They sat in silence then. Happy to wait for Sam to wake before they left for home, thankful they had been given the chance to do so.