It's a good thing too, because if I hadn't known him for such a long time, I probably wouldn't understand his reluctance to discuss much in the way of his fledgling presidential campaign.  Jed would prefer to run the damn campaign out of his home on nights and weekends, and just expect his incredible political luck to hold out.

But America is not New Hampshire.  It ain't gonna work his way.

Judging by the perplexed look he gives me when I tell him my destination, Life Outside New Hampshire remains an unexplored mystery.  "D.C.?" he echoes, as genuinely puzzled as if I'd just told him I was flying to Uzbekistan for a couple days.

"Yeah." I give him a quick nod, and then concentrate on my omelet.  I don't see why we had to drive twenty minutes to some small-town, kitschy diner for breakfast, but Jed insisted.  Claims they have the best food in town, though if I may say, there doesn't seem to be evidence of a town anywhere in a two-mile radius.  How do people keep businesses afloat when their restaurants are in the middle of farmland?  I was skeptical at first, but the food really is quite good.  Especially the omelet.

"Why?" Jed asks, stirring his coffee for a little longer than he needs to.  I can tell he's distracted, working on why I'm going to Washington.  I swear, it's a mystery to me how a person could serve three terms in the House and still remain so deliberately clueless about national politics.  The fact that he thought I showed up in New Hampshire to tell him that I was considering a run -- me, who called him from a hotel parking lot for help when I finally realized that I was splayed flat on my own personal rock bottom -- was just more proof, as if I needed it, that Jed's naiveté isn't affected.  It's not a mannerism he adopts and sheds at will, like that Every Farmer folksy charm thing he can project.  Yes, he's an incredibly grounded, charming guy, but he's certainly not from the wilds of New Hampshire like many of his constituents, who honestly believe that Jed's life experience mirrors their own.  That's his political gift.  That's why I think he can win this election -- he genuinely cares about the people who are affected by the issues, and those people can tell.

But I wouldn't want to rain on Jed's parade (he honestly thinks he's a wonderful politician), and so I deflect the question, "I wanna talk to some people."  I'd rather not go into details.  I know Jed can win over the voters if I can get him on TV.  I know he could rally some serious support, but first he needs to go national, get some exposure.  To do that, I need people who will think of states outside of New England, which Jed's local operatives seem unable to do.

One of them actually suggested a mini-campaign within New England.  I think his theory was that if Jed could sweep the New England states in the primaries, this would somehow catapult him past John Hoynes.  Obviously, Matt or Mac or Mark or whatever his name is has never been introduced to the concept of electoral math.  Working different counties in a state to gain momentum is a valid strategy for a gubernatorial race, but it doesn't translate to a presidential campaign.  The New England states would give Jed only 35 electoral votes.

This guy Toby, he gets it, as far as I can tell.  His résumé paints a certain picture, yeah, but he's an amazing speechwriter, has a firm grasp of the public relations side of the table, and has been at odds with Jed's home team, which is a plus in my book.  I also know that Toby has more than once suggested a three-state campaigning trip:  New York, Pennsylvania, and Iowa.  We need some more like him, some more experience on this team.  I don't feel like going ten rounds with Jed over this, 'cause he'll lose and I'll win, but it's damn tiring to argue with him.

Not that such a trivial concern ever stopped Jed, who raises his eyebrows at me.  "I see you've taken some classes in cryptic, Leo."

"I'm not really sure what that means, Jed, but okay."  This really is a good omelet.  I add a little more pepper.  Just because.

"'I wanna talk to some people,'" Jed parrots, in a really bad imitation of me.  "I don't think you could be less forthcoming if you tried."

"Sure, I could."  I give him that sarcastic grin I know he hates.  "I could not tell you I was going in the first place."

"I'm a pretty observant guy, Leo.  I'd probably have noticed your absence."

I swallow my last mouthful of omelet and spear a forkful of hash browns.  "Nah, I'd have told you I was taking some days off."

"Like I'd ever believe that," he murmurs into his coffee cup.  "Why are you going to D.C.?"

With a sigh, I put down my fork and meet his suspicious gaze.  "If we're going to run, we're going to need some people."

"We have people."

See what I mean?  He doesn't want to admit that this is a national campaign, that he's actually running for president, because if he doesn't try and doesn't win, it won't be as bad a blow to his ego.  If, on the other hand, he really gets behind this, really lets himself want it, and then he loses...  Well, it wouldn't be pretty.  Which is why I need to get some people so I can make sure that doesn't happen.  "We need more people," I tell him finally.  "We need different people."

"What's wrong with my people?" Jed demands.  And, as is typical of him, he goes on at some length without letting me answer him.  "My people got me elected to Congress, Leo.  A national office.  Then they got me elected Governor of New Hampshire, the least liberal New England state, even though I'm a Democrat with quite an impressive record on issues like--"

"Jed," I interrupt before he can lecture me on the Democratic platform.  As if I'm unfamiliar with the planks.  "I'm not going to argue with you about this.  No one outside of New Hampshire has ever seen your name on a ballot, and no one outside of New Hampshire has ever heard of the Bartlet dynasty.  We need the Beltway, and we need about half of the other forty-nine states."

"My people--"

"Can't get it done without help."  There it is.  He knows it, but I need him to admit it.  "Do you trust me, Jed?"

Jed watches me for a moment, scowling just a little.  While he doesn't like the implication that he needs help with anything, he's a big enough man to admit it when he does need reinforcements.  And if he wins a campaign for the presidency, he's going to need a whole building full of reinforcements, and he needs to believe I'll get him the right people.  Jed nods slowly.  "Yeah."

"Yeah," I echo.  "Now can I eat my omelet?"

He smiles.  "You finished your omelet already."

"Hash browns, then."

"Told you they had the best omelets in New Hampshire."

"Would that really be hard?"

"By the time this is over, you're not going to want to leave, Leo," he tells me.  "You're going to fall in love with this place."

"Sure, if by 'fall in love' you mean 'realize just how cold and rural this damn place is and beg to be allowed to leave.'"

"Eat your hash browns, Leo."

***

I freely admit that I started this whole thing for personal reasons.  I'm sick to death of hedging my political bets.  I served as Secretary of Labor under a Republican President who, most of the time, could have been mistaken for John Hoynes.  There's no difference these days, no need for two parties.  They're running towards the middle so fast that Jed once derisively dubbed his colleagues in the House "Republocrats."  That was just before he left Washington to run for Governor in a state where his liberal tendencies could only hurt him.  He still won.  He's got that aura of greatness, of compassion, of wisdom about him that people respond to despite their Party affiliation.

That's one of the reasons why I'm here.  I want Jed to be president because I think he'll do amazing things for America.  I think he'll make sure that poor children have health care, I think he'll open up a dialogue on the issues that divide this country and make each side listen to the other, and I think he'll bring principle and true leadership back to Washington.  Despite all of those high-minded reasons, I flew up to Manchester to convince him to run because I want nothing more than to go into a polling booth and punch the dot next to "Josiah Bartlet, Democrat."

The thought still gives me chills.

It's a long shot, though. I'm fully aware of the obstacles in the path of this man and this campaign.  I know I can't get this done myself.  My ties with the DNC aren't as strong as they used to be; I'm a retired Cabinet member who served under a Republican president.  On top of which, I'm an old friend of the candidate that I'm supporting, so it's pretty easy to dismiss anything I say as biased.

Hell, I probably am biased.  I don't much care.

But Josh Lyman's not.  Josh Lyman's working for the other guy right now.  And we need Josh Lyman on our team.

We've needed Josh for weeks.  We've needed his political skills and his contacts and the credibility that his presence will bring.  Josh is an up-and-comer in D.C. and he's a top strategist for Hoynes; if he jumps to Jed's campaign, it'll be a serious coup for us.  It'll be discussed on Crossfire, on Hannity & Colmes, and no doubt O'Reilly will spend some time excoriating the Democrats' lack of loyalty.  More importantly, it'll send some pretty serious shockwaves through the DNC, let them know Jed is a serious contender.

And that is exactly what stopped me from asking Josh in the first place.  Because we may need Josh, but he doesn't need us.  He's on track to a stellar political career.  A top strategist for the Democratic candidate who unseats an incumbent Republican wouldn't have any trouble getting a job.  And I have no doubt that as things stand, John Hoynes will be the next President.

It's a tough call, deciding whether to approach Josh myself.  I have great respect for his parents, and I don't want to leverage their friendship.  Instead, I have Margaret call around and work her contacts in the Senate; turns out, she knows someone in Hoynes' office.  Though she chooses to explain in excruciating detail the avenues of investigation she traveled to find this out.

"My friend Nancy Durrenmatt is an assistant to Jennifer Tufte."

I'm a little busy with polling data when she starts her recitation, and answer her with an abstracted, "What?"

"My friend Nancy Durrenmatt is--"

"Assistant to somebody.  I got that."

"Jennifer Tufte."

I glance up from the polling book and give her a look.  "Yeah, I got it.  Who's Jennifer Tufte?"

Margaret frowns.  "The person that my friend Nancy--"

"Is assistant to, yes, Margaret.  I'm saying who is Jennifer Tufte in the context of Josh Lyman?"

"Senator Wexler's press secretary," Margaret explains, brightening.  She loves nothing more than to explain things at length.  If Delores Landingham didn't have Jed so firmly in hand, I would think he and Margaret would get on like gangbusters; they could talk each other under the table.  "And Jennifer Tufte--"

"Oh, Margaret, please," I interrupt, frustrated.  "Is this story going to get to Josh Lyman anytime soon?"

She gives me a wounded look.  "Jennifer Tufte's cousin is Anthony Tufte."

With a heartfelt sigh, I wave her on with one hand.  "Who is?"

"One of the security guards in the Rayburn Building.  And Anthony Tufte said that Josh Lyman and Senator Hoynes have been at loggerheads for the past--"

"At loggerheads?" I can't help but repeat.

"That means--"

"I know what it means, Margaret.  I was commenting on your turn of phrase."

"Would you prefer to discuss my colloquialisms, Leo, or the information you asked me to gather?" she asks, miffed.

"Okay, Margaret."  After this many years with Margaret, I know when to mollify her.  She can, after all, make my life hell when she gets a bee in her bonnet about something.  "Did you talk to anyone on the inside?"

She hesitates for a moment, her mouth pursed as she decides whether or not to harp on the loggerheads thing.  "Yes.  Anthony put me in touch with Zach Panjun, who's an intern in Hoynes' Senate office.  He confirmed Anthony's account and says that Josh Lyman doesn't seem happy with the campaign."

I don't know whether to be happy about that or not.  It's good for us, of course, but I feel a certain loyalty to Josh's father, Noah.  I don't want to get Josh on our team solely because he's unhappy with his current job.  I want him to want to join Bartlet for America.  And I don't want to have to answer to Noah.

"Did this Zach know where the tension is coming from?"

"Lately," Margaret answers, "he said he's heard a lot from Josh about Social Security and Senator Hoynes not taking it seriously."

"Hmmm," I answer.  This sounds promising for us, though I still don't feel entirely comfortable approaching Josh myself.  Unfortunately for me, there's no one else to send.  The Governor's a little busy governing, Toby Ziegler isn't someone I'd send in to woo a reluctant stranger (or really anyone at all), and I don't think Josh Lyman would be impressed by any of the rest of the high-level campaign staffers.  I decide that I'll play on Josh's loyalty to family and friends to get him up to New Hampshire, but that's it.  He has to make the decision from there.  I don't want to be responsible for bringing such a promising career to a halt.  "Did you tell Zach I was coming up there?"

"No, I figured you'd want the element of surprise," she answers.

"I do," I tell her.  "And I don't want to jeopardize Josh's job.  Get me on the next flight."

***

I'm a man with a considerable résumé.  I don't usually have to wait for people; they usually have to wait for me.  But because I chose to surprise Josh, I'm cooling my heels in the well-appointed waiting room of John Hoynes' Senate Office until Margaret's friend Zach spots me.

"Excuse me, Leo McGarry?"

"Yeah," I answer, looking up from my crossword puzzle.

"Hello, sir. I'm Zach Panjun.  Your assistant Margaret just called."

"For me?"

"Uh, no, sir," he answers, looking a little embarrassed now.  Smart kid, well-dressed, seems pretty eager.  "No, she just wanted to make sure I made you comfortable while you were waiting.  Would you care to come on in?  I can get you some coffee or--"

"That's not necessary.  Thanks, though.  If you could just show me to Josh Lyman's office?"

"Of course," he answers solicitously, ushering me past the frosted and frosty receptionist.  "Josh doesn't really have an office, but I can show you to the..." he shrugs.  "The area he works in."

"I appreciate that, Zach."

"No problem," he says with a smile.  "Janet," he says to a petite brunette clacking away at her computer, "is Josh still in with the Senator?"

Janet glances at us.  "Yeah.  Could be a while.  When I peeked in, there were some fireworks."

"Thanks."  Zach looks embarrassed again, and I study him more closely.  He seems to have the political instincts this Janet is lacking; you don't discuss the boss in front of strangers, and you certainly don't acknowledge intra-staff battles.  "Mr. Secretary, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Governor Bartlet is running?"

"Yeah."

"He was in the House a few years ago, right?"

"Yeah."

Zach nods slowly.  "He's pretty liberal."

I smile.  "That's true."

"So is Josh Lyman."

I don't answer.  This kid is too smart by half.  I simply indicate a relatively empty space a little bit away from Josh's desk and say, "I'll just wait over there."

Zach nods.  "Thank you, Secretary McGarry.  It was an honor to meet you."  He leans a bit closer.  "And please pass on to Governor Bartlet that there are a lot of Democrats who are happy to see someone like him in the race."

I watch him walk away and very nearly miss it when Josh Lyman comes wandering over to his desk.  He looks distracted and possibly discouraged.  It's still a surprise every time I see this accomplished man in his late thirties; I can't help but see the little curly-headed boy who used to visit for cookouts and the occasional holiday.  Josh is good people.

"Josh," I say, and I'm smiling a little as he turns to face me.

***

I knew it the second Josh Lyman walked into that VF Hall; I knew we had him.

Josh Lyman has incredible political skills, an intimidating intellect, and an ego the size of Saskatchewan.  What he doesn't have, though, is the ability to mask what he's feeling.

Was I ever that young?

When I approached him in D.C., Josh radiated skepticism.  He was on the fast track, working as a top advisor on the presidential campaign of the guy who was going to win.  Why should he take two days off to fly up to New Hampshire to listen to some guy he'd never heard of?

Figuratively speaking.  I mean, of course Josh had heard of Jed, but only as a name, only as another in a field of long shot possible challengers to the anointed one.  He didn't know Jed, even if their paths crossed during Jed's time in D.C.  And more importantly, Josh didn't have any idea what Jed is capable of doing.

I don't know what happened between our brief meeting in D.C. and now, but Josh is hopeful.  He's hopeful because he wants Jed Bartlet to impress him.  He's hopeful because John Hoynes may be a good politician, but he's not a great man.  He's hopeful because Jed Bartlet's record is pretty clearly left-liberal.  He's hopeful because he knows that I wouldn't bring him to New Hampshire on a whim, and I wouldn't convince Jed to run if I didn't think we could win.

Josh wants it too.  He wants to go to the polls and be glad to vote for a candidate.  He wants to feel like a great man, a decent man, an honest man is in charge.

We've got him.

"Josh," I greet him with a small wave.  I don't want him to feel pressured to sit at my table.  In fact, I don't want him to sit at my table at all.  I want him to really pay attention to Jed, not make a show of paying attention for me.

Josh gives me a little grin and waves a folded up newspaper at me.  He points to a table at the back.  "I'm gonna--"

"Sure," I answer.  "Try the chicken."

Josh makes a face and drops his backpack by the side of his chair.  I make a point to turn away as the host introduces Jed.  Toby's hovering in the corner, looking more dour than usual.  I have a feeling I'll have to step into the Cal-Toby feud pretty soon, but I'd rather not fire anybody until I have some replacements lined up.

Jed's speech is average.  His heart's not totally in it yet.  He doesn't believe it yet, so he's not expending the energy.  But I'm counting on the Q&A and I'm not disappointed.  Cal's been in a tizzy about this question for weeks now, convinced that Jed's answer will sink the campaign.  Cal's wrong; it'll only sink the campaign if Jed spins it, deflects it, talks around his reasoning.  After all, there are plenty of better-known pols in the race who will play the Beltway game. Jed Bartlet will only be a contender if he's willing to tell the truth.

I'm almost leaning forward in my chair when he hesitates up there at the podium.  I'm suspended in that never-ending moment where Jed struggles not to engage in this campaign, willing him to put some heart into it.

And then Jed answers the question.  He answers it with an explanation that makes sense, that treats these voters like intelligent adults who can understand the balancing game politicians have to play.  He answers the question honestly and forthrightly, and I glance reflexively at Josh.

Suddenly that crossword puzzle isn't so interesting.  He's sitting at the table, staring at Jed, really watching him, and I fight back a smile as Josh Lyman, whiz kid of the Beltway, begins to clap at the answer of a regional politician in a VFW Hall in Nashua, New Hampshire.  The look on his face right now is... I don't know the words to use, I'd have to ask Toby, but I can tell from looking at Josh that he feels it too.

It's real, I think.  This campaign is finally real, even if it's still drawing such a small crowd.  That's okay.  We have time.  Not a lot, but enough time to make some noise before New Hampshire.

I hadn't understood how much I was holding back until now, how much I'd been waiting for confirmation that this could really happen before I assembled a winning campaign staff.

We'll need an honest-to-goodness press secretary soon, someone who can step in after Jed answers a question like he just did and feed the national media some sound bites.  We'll need more good people, but as I study the rapturous look on Josh's face, I'm not that worried about finding them.

It's game time, and I'm going to get Jed the best possible team, starting with Josh Lyman and Toby Ziegler, and we're gonna win this thing.

THE END

12.17.02