Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Wilson’s Final Days – Stage 1 (Section 2)

continued from Stage 1 (Section 1)

“Not anymore.”

Wilson or House did not want to hear those two words again. As the previous head of the oncology department, Wilson knew those two words all too well…and so did House.

In a calm, unspoken aura, these two seasoned doctors lay on inflatable chair rafts in the hotel pool with well-placed fruit drinks on both sides. 

The conversation continues without a word being spoken only an occasional glance with hint of trepidation behind Wilson’s eyes.

A calm relief. A frightened stare. A comforting grin. A childish smirk. Each man saw every facial expression in one night as they floated. 

A silent acceptance when something is outside control…well, desirable control. 

Freedom then death. What variables remain besides the when and where? 

Where? A nice place. Private with no third party involvement that reflects as much freedom, physical advantage, and personal leverage as possible. Now that was something to control. 

Was this social isolation to control the environment or a free embrace into a world with no schedule or responsibilities besides each other? 

House remembers one of his many personal crisis points - an above story dive from a balcony into a pool amid a wild party then the fanatical reaction of the onlookers and ensuing revel and praise.

House jumps on the diving board high enough for a large splash, but keeps bouncing until he finally slams the water with his elbow out like wrestler.

Wilson handles his crises privately, so a happy medium is inevitable. This medium will lean even more towards Wilson so House does not get noticed.

Does anyone really care about a reportedly deceased doctor who challenged and offended almost every person he knew. Does House’s famed yet sour reputation pose a more potent danger than his potentially bad behavior?

“How is your leg?” Wilson asks House.

“As far as your concerned this leg is made of titanium. Don’t ask again, OK?” says House as he throws several towels over his shoulders, slips on a leg support, then places another large duffel bag over one shoulder.

“OK,” replies Wilson.

‘This injury made me better. It never stopped me unless I let it,’ thinks House.

‘Great. Now I expect a sour mood the rest of the night,’ thinks Wilson.

Wilson leans on House as they exit the pool… literally. Wilson grimaces as he feels a sharp pain then strongly grips House’s arm. House never yells or even winces as he assists his best friend out of the pool then to the nearby elevator.

continue to Stage 1 (Section 3)

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