Daniel could hear the shift of shoes sliding on carpet and bodies thumping into each other as everyone turned to him. When he looked up, the eyes staring back at him were a mixture of pain, helplessness, and fear. He hated the clinging neediness of their glare, wishing for someone to save them from having to decide on their own.

 

Daniel cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, which felt like it was strangling him. He could feel the heat from inside his suit boil his skin. His next words would impact millions of people, including the three he loved the most. 

 

“It's obviously a very delicate issue. I think that we all want to drive toward a solution that's best not just for the individual but for the entire country,” Daniel said.

 

The faces looking at Daniel slowly turned away. They all knew what his noncommittal political response meant. If he wasn't voting for Smith's bill, he was voting for Jones's bill.

 

Daniel's eyes caught Smith's for only a moment, but it was enough to have the sour pit in his stomach return. Smith didn't wear a look of anger or fear but one of disappointment. The one man who could help him sway opinion had failed to deliver.

 

While the rest of the room focused their attention back to Smith, Daniel fidgeted in the corner, a war raging inside him, one side compelling him to speak up and the other begging him to stay quiet. The voice pushing him forward, encouraging him to stand tall, was that of his wife. He could hear her voice, drowning out the fear and apprehension washing over him.

 

“I vote no,” Daniel said.

 

The words came out as a whisper, unable to break the barrier of conversations booming in the room.

 

“I vote no,” Daniel repeated.

 

This time the words came out firm, loud. Daniel tilted his head up, looking immediately to Smith, who had the upward curve of a smile on his face.

 

“You're really going to vote against it?” Edwards asked, his eyebrow raised skeptically.

 

“I am. Congressman Smith is right. Jones's bill will destroy this country. We can't let that happen,” Daniel said. “We need to vote it down.”

 

Daniel's spine straightened. He could feel himself stretching above his peers. The mood of the room shifted. The representatives whispered among themselves, deciding whether it was safe to speak up.

 

“Congressman Hunter is with us. Who else?” Smith asked.

 

The room remained silent. Maybe Daniel was wrong. Even with both him and Smith leading the charge, it still might not be enough to remove Jones' talons from the rest of them.

 

“Hell. I'll vote no,” Edwards said.

 

The first drop of hope hit the pavement. Then, with every other congressman and congresswoman who said she or he would stand with Smith, the downpour began to wash over the rest of them.

 

A few of the congressmen slithered out, afraid of letting any evidence that they had been in the room with such people linger on their persons.

 

The lines were now set. There were those that opposed Jones's bill and those that supported it. Daniel just hoped that everyone's resolve would remain until the actual vote was upon them.

 

Smith stepped down from his desk and began shaking the hands of everyone who had stayed. Daniel received similar handshakes and eager smiles from colleagues thanking him for being the first to stand up.

 

Afterward, once the room had emptied, leaving only Daniel and Smith, Smith wrapped him in a hug. Smith was only twelve years older than Daniel, but Daniel could sense the fatherly touch in Smith’s embrace.

 

“Thank you, Congressman,” Smith said.

 

“You think we'll have enough votes to stop it?” Daniel asked.

 

“Hard to say. It's going to be close. If some of the people who left without answering come to our side of the aisle, then we might have a chance.”

 

“Right.”

 

With the room cleared of thanks and nods of admiration, the brief moment of courage that had propelled Daniel forward began to fade. They had a lot of work ahead of them and a very short time to accomplish it.