“Cooper Kellogg!”
He winks at me, snags the next puzzle card from the seat of the giant sleigh in the middle of the room, and starts reading.
“Santa’s sleigh won’t drive itself,
For this one, he needs all his elves!
In pairs they’ll work in perfect accord
Or the Clausometer won’t move forward.
Help him fix his broken sleigh,
And get the Big Man on his way!”
We all run over to the sleigh, and one of Todd’s friends pops the hood. There, we see six pairs of gear cranks, enough for twelve people. There are only nine of us. Candace calls out loudly. “We have one extra person!”
A voice sounds over a speaker. “Someone can sit out.”
“You can talk to the game master?” I ask.
“Duh,” Todd snaps.
Coop grabs Todd’s shoulder and pulls him aside. “Todd, you need to take a break,” Coop says in a soft but firm voice. I don’t know if he’s squeezing, but the petty part of me hopes he is. “It’sjust a game, but even if it weren’t, real men don’t snap at women. Time to pull yourself together, pal.”
He’s saying this quietly enough that it’s not a spectacle. He’s not putting Todd on the spot. But he’s not letting him get away with his bad behavior, either.
Todd takes off his glasses and rubs his face. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Coop.”
Coop returns to find that everyone else has paired up, and they’re spinning their gears as fast as they can.
I’m not paired up with anyone. I’ll never admit this to Coop, but Candace asked if I wanted to team up with her—solidarity, sister!—but I told her I’d wait.
Not because I’m interested in Coop, or anything, but because I wanted to hear what he was saying to Todd.
That’s all.
Coop gives me a smile and grabs the handle of his gear crank. “Do we just spin it?”
“I don’t think so,” I say, holding the puzzle card. “The Clausometer isn’t moving.” I read through the rhyming instructions again. “‘In pairs they’ll work in perfect accord.’” I look at our group. “Guys, I think we have to move at the exact same pace. Maybe mirror images? It says ‘perfect accord.’”
“You heard the lady!” Candace says, and soon, we’re all looking at our partners and syncing up. When we’re all in step with our respective partner, the Clausometer starts ticking up. Whenever someone misses a beat, though, the meter drops quickly. Coop and I are both coordinated, but the data scientists are somewhat … lackingin the physical skills department.
“Why is this so hard?” one of the guys says.
Todd looks like he’s going to flip a table, but Coop shoots him a warning glance that mellows him right out. Then Coop starts singing the first line of “Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!”
He’s turning his gear along with the beat of the song. So I chime in, and then Candace nods, like she gets what Coop is doing. Soon, we’re all belting out the chorus and moving in perfect unison. Coop and I stare in each other’s eyes, grinning like fools as we crank a silly gear in an escape room.
I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun.
And something tells me Coop knows it.
We sing and spin until the Clausometer moves up, up, up. And then it hits the top!
“Yes!” Candace yells.
“You know, the lyric is ‘we’ve’ not ‘there’s,’” Todd says. “‘Sincewe’veno place?—’”
