I am hereby attempting to utilize a book/movie series I've never read/watched for a greater purpose. Remember children…reading is fundamental.
(Reading and reviewing are lifesaving)
Fundamental
Reading was an innocent enough activity. In the dimmed light of his office, Dr. Stephen Connor reclined in his swivel chair, legs stretched before him so his feet could be propped on the unusually clean desk top. Reclined and read. At three in the morning, waiting for clearance to head out on their next case, there was little else to do. The book, a hardback, lay across his thighs with a nearly equal amount of pages having been read as there were to go. It had taken him weeks of stolen bits of solitude to get to this halfway point. Looking up, he knew he'd get no further tonight.
Natalie Durant stood just outside his open door, peering in with what could best be described as a stifled expression; close to amusement and valiantly fighting it. He'd taken the laminated paper cover off weeks ago and was now slightly grateful for the foresight. Maybe she wouldn't ask.
"Catching up on some reading?" She commented in a way that was meant to open a dialogue. He'd heard about conversation. It was better for everyone that he try to avoid it when possible. Because he tended to yell a lot. Some failed to appreciate that form of communication, it seemed.
"Haven't gotten a green light to leave yet." He informed her before rescanning the current page to find his spot. Maybe she would take a hint.
Natalie wasn't put off by the loss of his attention. Perhaps it was boredom, but she floated slowly about the quiet office as if looking for something. Finally, Natalie tilted her head in an attempt to decipher the letters on the book's binding, squinting in vain. Had she been successful, there might have been a snort. Or worse.
"So, what does a guy like you read, besides the New England Journal of Medicine?" There was that conversational tone again.
It took him a moment to register that there might have been an insult in there somewhere. "A guy like me?"
A blush crept up on her admittedly pretty face. "I just meant…you know, someone so dedicated to all things disease."
If he remained silent long enough, she might think she'd offended him and run off like the others do. However, when he provided no answer her hesitation evaporated, replaced by a nearly visible light bulb atop her head. Something was about to happen and he found it difficult to move from the path of the proverbial bus.
And sure enough, she suddenly appeared over his shoulder, leaning in to pluck the book's title from the top of the page.
"Harry Potter?" Natalie's shock could have sent vibrations to the foundations of the sturdy NIH building. Surely the building's remaining population heard the exclamation.
Strangely, in the next minute he found the revelation did not bring a rush of embarrassment or wounded manliness to the surface. Instead, Stephen quickly remembered exactly why he was plodding through this particular series without an actual gun cocked at his temple.
"Not just dedicated to all things disease. Also dedicated to understanding my son." Looking her dead in the eyes, Stephen dared her to laugh in the face of such an obvious example of fine parenting. God knows he was going beyond the extra mile.
Confusion was an attractive look on her, Stephen noted with some dismay. He'd have to stop noticing such things. It did him no sort of good. Natalie moved back around the desk to settle into the visitor's chair. Blinking a few times, she apparently needed further help grasping his reading selection. Sighing in long-suffering fashion, Stephen laid the book face down on the desk, unconcerned with damaging the binding. It wasn't a first edition Hemingway, after all.
"Jack is now speaking in Harry Potter code. So consider this research." Pushing his chair back enough to remove his feet from their raised position, Stephen had to smile at her thorny digestion of this information. Really, was it that hard to imagine his eyes were capable of gracing something besides patient charts?
"So…" she began, regaining some verbal ability. "So Jack is some kind of Harry Potter fanatic now?"
Stephen leaned forward just a bit, as though divulging something confidential, which was essentially true. "He's quoting lines… whole paragraphs. And he does it in a way that he thinks makes any sense to me. Referencing scenes to explain everything from sliding grades to broken lamps. Like I'm supposed to…" He trailed off in his perplexity of the boy.
"Like you're supposed to know what he's talking about?" She supplied, appearing oddly touched at his effort.
Stephen nodded. "Something had to be done." He gestured toward the book, noting the binding had survived its current harsh position. Which was good, since he hated wasting money. Unless it was going toward his El Camino.
Natalie's back stiffened. "Wait…Have you considered watching the movies instead?" Sounding pleased with the idea and looking at him like he was entirely simple, she clearly decided he should have thought of it first. As if he hadn't tried that shortcut already.
"My child has informed me that it isn't sufficient to…" He smiled then, relaxing into this discussion with surprising ease. "How did he put it? 'Get the nuances.' I'm not even sure how he knows that word."
"Maybe it's in the book." She pointed put, then rubbed her hands together as though they were part of some conspiracy. "So, are you making a dent in the code?"
Her enthusiasm was admirable, but Stephen was still a bit frustrated that Jack hadn't chosen football as his addiction. "I now feel prepared to say hello and goodbye without a translator. That's progress."
Tapping the cover of the book with her index finger, Nat grinned. "And you're only halfway through. Not a bad start." Spoken by someone excused from reading the damned thing. Complicated medical terms he could describe in his sleep, but some of these character names?
"Give me a medical textbook and I'm good. But this…this is slowly killing me."
Sympathetic waves were emanating from her widening smile. "Well, I won't bury you yet. You're nearly done."
Oh, the false hope of it all. "Are you kidding? Do you know how many of these there are?"
Disgust took up residence on his face, an expression that had first appeared upon his first discovering the answer to that question while standing in the book store. The number of volumes on the shelf had nearly broken his resolve to do this. And then the clerk had asked if he wanted a gift receipt, and he'd replied in the affirmative, only too mortified to admit it was he the book would be keeping company.
Kicking the empathy up a notch, Nat reached across the desk to gently pat his hand. A rather motherly action, like he was a child complaining about the unfairness of schoolwork. Rising from her seat, Natalie checked her watch with a shake of her head.
"We're never gonna get out of here tonight. Can't they wait til morning to send us to 'Nothing But Grass, Wisconsin?'"
"And deprive me of this?" Lifting the book once more to its place on his lap, Stephen chuckled. "You're mistaking us for people with luck."
Settling back into his chair, Stephen refused himself the treat of watching her walk away. They'd had a decent talk, the first in as many months as there were books in this series. Maybe J.K. Whoever was useful after all.
And if he could interpret his son's call tomorrow, he was prepared to declare Harry Potter fundamental.