As he did so they bumped into each other and stopped for a second. There was very little light, and they now stood face to face hesitating. It quickly became awkward."Here, come this way." she explained as she grabbed him at the waist again pushing him backwards.At first he did not want to go and instead she bumped into him instead of moving him backwards. Her breasts pushed against his chest. He could smell her. She smelled like baby powder. He guessed it was her body spray – another popular fad of the early 80s. There was one more slight hesitation from both of them, and then she turned."Over here," she told him.She grabbed his hand as she went to the far left corner and pushed his body up against the glass door. She pulled up behind him on her tippy toes. She was pointing over his shoulder and he could feel her breath on his neck.She quizzed him, "Behind those doors to the right. What's in there?"He did not answer right away because he was thinking other thoughts. Those doors were. He had a concussion; he knew who he was but had blurred vision and was unsteady on his feet.The doc checked my arm where I had taken the swing of the bat; it was bruised as were my knuckles.I watched the four minute scene played over on the ZNN broadcast. The audience was growing in the waiting room. Senators and Congressman were filling the place up and trying to ask questions.The steps to the Hill were now crowded with police and camera crews who were watching and giving reports and in the way of everything. The police were desperately trying to move them out of the area to preserve evidence.I called the girls to let them know I was OK but may be late getting home. The good news was that Ching Lee and Takeo were home and being adored by all.The media that had access were filling the corridors and halls looking for anyone who was willing to make any kind of statement to them.I went to the committee room to testify before I went back to the White House. I expected it to be empty but.
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