The two Jims! Smathers said. Thank you for all your hard work and dedication.
It’s a pleasure to serve, sir, Lovell said.
This here’s my good friend, Herb White, Smathers said.
Pleasure, Harrison said, shaking White’s hand.
Very, very pleased to meet you both, White said, gripping Lovell’s hand and grinning.
We were just talking about the possibility of getting Kennedy down for a tour sometime, Smathers said. You know, the launch facilities, see the rockets up close, show him firsthand the nuts and bolts of his vision, that kind of thing.
Give him a warm Florida welcome, Herb said.
Sounds good, Deke said.
Indeed, Smathers said. I’m going to bring it up when I’m back in Washington.
How long are you here for, Senator? Deke said.
Just a few days, sadly. I’d like it to be longer, but there’s a lot going on right now.
Have you talked to Gilruth or Webb yet?
I’m meeting with them later, Smathers said. Let’s just enjoy ourselves for now, shall we? I don’t get out much these days.
The men laughed.
Say, Smathers said. Do you gentlemen like my new suit? I was in London last month and had it cut at Savile Row.
He held it open at the waist.
What do you think? Cobalt blue.
Harrison’s heart exploded; his gut turned liquid, his face gushed sweat. He felt unreal. Blood pumped hard behind his eyes.
Oh, Jim, Smathers said. Are you feeling all right? You look a little, ah, off-color.
Uh, yes, sir, I feel fine, he said, tapping and tapping his leg. A number of violent thoughts filled his mind. He began to blink in sets of five, hiding his actions by pretending to scratch his forehead. When that didn’t work, he rubbed his eyebrows, shielding his face, trying to go over his thoughts manually, but it was impossible, standing there, in front of them. He needed to be alone. He needed time. His anxiety grew. His heart rate bordered on apoplectic. He needed time. He needed to be alone. He rubbed his forehead.
Uh, he said. Uh.
Jim? Deke said.
I’m fine, he said.
So, I was saying, Smathers said, picking up the conversation. Do—
Hang on a minute, Harrison said.
Jim, Deke said.
Hang on, he said.
For what, exactly, Captain? Smathers said.
Just, uh—
Thoughts begat thoughts. They stacked up on top of him. The more his stress rose, the more they came, too powerful to ignore.
Jesus, Jim, Deke said. What the hell?
Senator, I don’t think Jim is feeling too well, Lovell said.
Harrison grimaced as his gut cramped. Jesus. He couldn’t hold it in. He needed the men’s room, right away. It lurched and gurgled inside him. The force was unbearable! He fought hard against it. Then his mind connected cause and effect together like a powerful magnet and presented the newspaper headline: ASTRONAUT SOILS SELF AT HILTON COCKTAIL PARTY. It was too late. He felt something run down the back of his left leg. Christ, he thought. Keep it in!
Uh, I don’t feel too good, he said.
Maybe you should get some air? Lovell said.
Sorry, Senator, Deke said.
Not at all! Smathers said. I just hope you’re all right?
We need you in tip-top shape to beat the Russians! Herb said.
Harrison turned to leave. Think I ate something bad, he said to Deke.
Take my room, Deke said, pushing a key into his hand. Gilruth gave it to me for tonight. I’ll head back with Lovell.
Harrison turned quickly and left.
Poor man, he heard Smathers lament behind him.
The lobby was crowded. He walked carefully, as fast as he could without making the situation worse. He didn’t know where the john was so headed for the elevator ahead. Please, God, help me, he said, over and over in his head. The porter saw him approach and opened the elevator doors. Harrison stumbled in, the porter smiled, Harrison nodded, and the box swallowed him up. He fell into the room, locked the door and stumbled to the can. He tapped and tapped his leg and said I’m sorry, I’m sorry, over and over. Afterward, he stripped off his clothes and lay down, exhausted, humiliated, ashamed, in the bath, and cried out for his wife.