Mikael Pacioli

One Week.

"So how is everything going, Mikael?" Father Pacioli's voice, even coming from miles away and distorted by the poor connection, was a comfort. Mikael almost cried.
"It's - it's OK, Dad." was all he managed to say.
"Is it? Are your group members nice?"
"Yeah," Mikael said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. "There's Nicolo, my roommate, and Yusef, and Max, Andre, Andy and Dee, and they're all really nice. And Blake, my group leader - he's nice, too."
"Good." Father Pacioli said, "That's good."
There was some silence, and then Father Pacioli asked,
"Tell me about Blake. Does he teach your group?"
Mikael shook his head, even though he couldn't be seen.
"No, he's just sort of our leader? He helps us - guides us through all the processes and coordinates everything and checks up on us." Mikael laughed a little. "He's sort of like Brother Damon, except a lot lighter on his feet."
Father Pacioli laughed at this, too.
"I'll be sure to tell Brother Damon you're in good hands, then." he said, and Mikael could hear the smile in his voice.
Mikael went on.
"And Blake's supposed to be a kind of role model for us, too, I think, since he's already married and everything. Which is weird, because I didn't think that they let married carriers work."
Father Pacioli made a thoughtful sound.
"Perhaps things are more nuanced than you anticipated."
Mikael shrugged, then glanced over his shoulder. The chaperone across the room hadn't blinked or moved.
"Maybe. But I still - I don't like some of the things they do here."
Mikael was usually careful, whenever he was on the phone with St. Xavier's, not to complain about the Centre. There was no point, he knew, in complaining about what could not be changed, and he didn't want anyone to worry about him - about his imagined suffering.
Father Pacioli was silent, waiting for more. Mikael couldn't resist the small admission:
"They do everything so…selfishly here. Not like with us. And the carriers don't learn any…any of our sort of skills. Building, or carving, or caring for animals or anything like that. And they hardly ever read."
Father Pacioli nodded thoughtfully on the other end of the line. Before he could speak, Mikael piped up again.
"But there are good things, too. I'm learning to cook, in one of my classes, and a lot about marriages and relationships in another. That one's a psychology one; it's my favorite."
"Ah. Any others?"
"Carrier Reproduction is the worst one. I also have Intro to Carrier Studies, and Introductory Etiquette."
Father Pacioli laughed out loud at the last mention.
"I'll expect letters home from your professor in that one." he teased, and Mikael drew up a little indignantly.
"Letters of commendation, you mean." he rejoined. Father Pacioli chuckled a little, but relented.
"Of course. Of course. Now go on - what else is there?"

"Well," Mikael began, and there was a twinge of something different in his voice now, "They gave me a - a new schedule."
"A new schedule?"
"For my, um, my progress. They said they want me to be match-ready by, um, by the end of October."
"By August?" F. Pacioli couldn't disguise the surprise in his voice. "That's very soon, Mikael, barely six months. Do you think you'll be ready by then?"
Mikael laughed, mirthlessly.
"No. But that's the point, I think, of the schedules - they're supposed to make you push yourself to get adjusted."
"And how are you adjusting?" F. Pacioli asked, this time probing more deeply. Mikael ran a hand through his hair; a few strands came out with it.
"I don't know." he said, honestly. "I think I'm doing OK. I'm good in my classes. And I just - I have this test coming up, my one-month evaluation. But if that's OK then I should be fine. At the six-month eval, that's when they'll really know how well I'm doing."
Of course, Father Pacioli knew this much already - the orientation packet for parents and loved ones that had been presented to him by mail shortly after Mikael had left was very informative. And the CEC case manager who had called thereafter kept him generally apprised of Mikael's needs and doings. He had been warned about the one-month evaluation, and the six-month as well.
"But how do you think you're doing?" F. Pacioli asked again.
Mikael shrugged, feeling weakened by the conversation. How could he tell his father how he really felt? Terrified, weak, like an outsider, isolated, ignorant, ridiculous, humiliated, and then terrified all over again.

Something in the corner caught Mikael's eye; over his shoulder, the chaperone was raising one hand in a ten-minute warning gesture.
"I think I'm doing OK." he said, turning back to the phone. Changing the topic, he went on: "In class on Monday, we started learning complex pastries. I'll be out-baking you in no time." he teased, with false happiness. Father Pacioli refused to agree to the facade.
"I need to know, Mikael, how you're doing. And I need to know from you, because I'm afraid that your word might be the only honest report I can get." the older man declared. Mikael shivered.
"I'm OK, Dad. Really. I promise."
"Do you promise, Mikael?"
There was some silence. Mikael swallowed.
"Father?"
"Yes, Mikael?"
"Can I - can you come and see me? Please?"
F. Pacioli had no surprise to hide at this request.
"Of course I can, Mikael. I thought you might like a few weeks to yourself, but…"
"I'm good." he said, quickly. "I'm adjusted. Or adjusting. But I just might like to see my dad, that's all."
Father Pacioli's voice became firm and calm immediately.
"I'll come as soon as I can, Mikael - perhaps a week. Will that be alright?"
Mikael nodded, although his heart was breaking and a week felt like years to him.
"Yes, of course." he swallowed, and his throat felt tight. "Definitely." There was a pause, and then Mikael went on. "Well, yeah, so I've only got six more minutes left, and then that's all my call time for today - will you give everyone my love, and tell George to send me some reprints of our books? He can pick which ones."
"Alright."
"But you have to send them through the Book Office, remember, or else they'll just get confiscated and I can't have them, OK?"
"OK, Mikael."
"And Blake needs you to sign off on the results of my first full exam, so he's just going to mail those to you ASAP, OK?"
Father Pacioli went quiet.
"You had your first exam?"
They had tried to postpone this particular event, so that someone from St. Xavier's could come to sit with Mikael for it. Father Pacioli really wanted to be there himself, and had hoped the exam could coincide with his first visit. The CEC had been clear that time was limited, but they had been flexible on exact dates, and the scheduling had been still in the works. A carrier's first exam, Father Pacioli had been informed, was a life-stage event. Something to be celebrated.
"Yeah." Mikael said, quietly, "I didn't want to wait." Mikael swallowed. "It was OK - Blake went with me."
Father Pacioli's heart ached a little for his son, who always tried so hard to be so brave, even when the world was terribly unfair to him.
"We got you a little gift." he said, instead of expressing this. "Blake told us that was the tradition."
Mikael reddened.
"You didn't have to - "
"We wanted to, Mikael." Father Pacioli said, wanting to put all of his love and protection and understanding into this single declaration to his son. "We love you, and so we wanted to."

~:~