readingrat | Twelve Days, Day 8 (Reply)

Malvolio: [Reads]
'If this fall into thy hand, revolve. In my stars I
am above thee; but be not afraid of greatness: some
are born great, some achieve greatness, and some
have greatness thrust upon 'em.'
[Twelfth Night, Act 2 Scene 5]

May 23, 2010: Day 8
(Six days after the crane disaster in Trenton)

4 pm

"Taub, go out on the balcony and see what Wilson is up to," Thirteen instructs, "and try to be inconspicuous."

"I never go out on the balcony, so I'm bound to be conspicuous," Taub objects half-heartedly.

Thirteen reaches behind her into her handbag without taking her eyes off the screen of her laptop, withdraws a packet of cigarettes and tosses it to Taub. Taub looks down at the cigarettes and then up at Thirteen.

"I don't smoke. How is this supposed to help us?"

"I don't want him barging in on us while we check on our thread," Thirteen explains. "He's bound to smell a rat if he sees us congregating around a computer yet again. Wilson isn't stupid, you know."

"Taub, just get out there!" Chase, peering over Thirteen's shoulder, sounds impatient.

"Why me?" No one answers. Taub exhales, and then he goes outside and clumsily lights a cigarette.

"God, I hope he doesn't inhale," Chase says.

"He's at his computer.... Now he's getting up and going to the door." Taub leans forward, craning his neck to get a better look. "He's locking it and - oh shit!" He pulls back rapidly, returning to an idle stance and staring out at the grounds. He takes a drag on the cigarette. "Now he's closing the blinds ..." The last words are drowned in a fit of coughing. Taub returns into the conference room, giving the others a baleful stare.

"Did you never smoke when you were younger?" Chase asks incredulously.

"No. It seemed kind of stupid. It ruins your health, costs a lot of money and it doesn't even give you a high."

"Yeah," Foreman agrees blandly, " a bit like cheating: it breaks your wife's heart, costs you alimony and you could have got the sex for free at home."

"Thanks," Taub says. "You sound like House."

"Guys, quit the sweet-talk. We have work to do. There are any number of posts on our thread and we have to answer them." Thirteen scrolls and clicks busily, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. "Someone wants to know what Wilson's like."

"About forty, a colleague," Foreman suggests, keeping it terse the way House would.

"Appearance," Thirteen prompts. "How about, The sort women like: dark, handsome vulnerability!"

Chase isn't satisfied. "Wouldn't House be snarkier?"

"Doesn't matter. Wilson is a starving trout - he isn't going to examine the bait before he snaps at it. Next question: is Grey Horse physically attracted to his friend?" Thirteen thinks for a moment, then, "We don't do touchy-feely stuff. I've had some odd dreams."

Foreman is somewhat sceptical of the whole procedure. "How do you know that Wilson will identify your sock puppet as House?"

"I'm going to casually toss out some personal information that should suffice to convince him. Here, there's a question asking what sort of stuff they do together."

Chase laughs. "That's easy. Movies, bowling, monster trucks, ball games - guy stuff."

"That's ambiguous," Foreman objects. "Lots of guys do things like that."

"It'll be the sum of intel from the answers that will disambiguate his identity," Thirteen asserts. She analyzes another post. "What makes him think his pal is straight? Okay, that's easy. He isn't - he just thinks he is, but he spends aeons in the bathroom blow-drying his hair, he watches chick flicks, he likes musicals and sushi …"

"I like sushi," Taub protests. Foreman arches an eyebrow.

"Guess some know right away they're gay, some realize it along the way, and some need their noses rubbed in it," Thirteen types.

"He's going to catch that quote - he isn't dumb, as you pointed out yourself," Taub says.

"What quote?" Chase asks blankly.

"He won't," Thirteen says confidently. "Men think with their dicks when it's about sex."

"Thanks," Taub says.

Thirteen suddenly leans back, looking like the proverbial cat that's got in the cream. "Listen to this post: 'Maybe your friend is interested in you, but you aren't reading the signs.' Okay." She takes a deep breath. "O-kay."

The others crowd around her. She folds her hands and smiles expectantly at the others. "Name me some stuff that Wilson does when he hits on a new nurse."

Everyone throws in a comment. "Green tie ... he's got this weird smile ... it's not weird, it's kinda cute - lopsided .... cute, my foot! ... he bends over them; it looks protective, but it's invasive ... he listens."

Thirteen taps the touch pad of her laptop, and then she types briskly,"I read them fine. He's got a green tie that he wears when he's hitting on a new floozie, he smiles at his women in a special lopsided way, and he'll be humming 'I'm Walking on Sunshine' when he's getting ready for a date (euphemism for getting laid) - he's got a nice baritone - but none of this is ever for ME."

"Wilson hums 'I'm Walking on Sunshine'?" Foreman asks.

"I have no idea, but House hates the song. He smashed the cafeteria loudspeakers the other day when it was playing there. And he once said that Wilson singing in the bath sounds like a walrus with laryngitis." She thinks for a moment.

"You should suggest some things that Wilson should do to show his interest," Taub offers.

"Oh my, we know our classics, don't we?" Thirteen teases. But she types,"I'd like him to call me by my first name and to be more assertive, instead of being a buddy and a complete push-over."

"Don't overdo it!" Chase warns. Thirteen nods and logs off.

"So you think Wilson will ..." Foreman asks.

"Trust me, he will," Thirteen smiles.

"What if House actually likes the green tie, Wilson singing, and so on?" Chase asks.

"Then we'll have united two kindred souls," Taub intones solemnly, "and done mankind in general and PPTH in particular a great service."

Continue reading here
(preferably after commenting)