Learner
"You are speaking to the aiji. List all possible modes of transports available under the premise that there are four, five or six flowerpots in the bathing chamber."
Bren was desperately trying to comply with Professor Blackflipper's task. This was one of the most important tests before graduating, even though the final tests were still more than one year away. This test would be a lot easier if Professor Blackflipper weren't flopping around so much and changing the questions every few minutes. Having the letters in his written answers not taking leisurely walks along the lines and switching places would be a great help, too.
"You are speaking to the Minister of Commerce. Arrange the bedsheets in such a way as to form a mecheiti."
Bren immediately tried folding the sheets on his desk, but no matter which way he folded them, his scribbled notes kept dancing on them. Listening to the loud clicking of the clock as it counted down the last minute until the test ended, he was starting to panic. Professor Blackflipper was on his way over, and the letters still jumped around on the sheet, which got bigger and bigger with each tick of the clock
Then the Professor stood next to him, disappointment clearly visible on his scaly face.
"Bren..."
"Bren..."
"Bren..."
Groggily Bren became aware of where he was. His neck protested him moving his head off the table. His leg was hurting again,. His papers lay scattered on the table. One sported a damp spot.
"Imagine it was Mom – not me – finding you like this."
His brother was cheerfully divesting himself of his pullover, his coat already hanging on the rack. Bren looked at the clock. It was time for breakfast. Last time he had looked up, it had been shortly after midnight.
"You'd be in so much trouble, Bren. You know how Mom is: The paidhi program is not worth your health! Don't skip your meals! Get enough sleep! And go out from time to time. It's no shame if you only come in fourth or sixth."
The numbers were grating on him, especially with his testing nightmare still lingering in his mind.
"If I want to have a chance at becoming the paidhi and going to the mainland, I have to be the best. And I did sleep."
"Yeah, you did, though next time a bed might be better for that. Well, and I'm here now to take care of the eating part."
Bren found his notes unceremoniously dumped on a shelf, after watching Toby unpack what looked like a very large and hearty breakfast. His family might hassle him about sleep, food and his social life – he did have girlfriends from time to time – but he couldn't deny that it was good to have them around. With the current stress he was under due to his upcoming exams, and the added trouble of him breaking his leg during what was supposed to be a relaxing vacation, it really did help to have someone around to make sure he had food to eat – and did eat, and to keep his apartment in a reasonable shape.
Without them, he was sure he wouldn't be were he was today – at the head of the paidhi program.
Ever since that fateful day long ago, they had been at his side. He remembered it as if it had been yesterday – the nervous excitement as he had practically run home.
It had been one week after the all important entry tests, the day when the results were supposed to be mailed to them. He hadn't been able to sleep all week, but that day everything had been decided. With his hands shaking so nervously it had taken him several tries to get their mailbox open.
To his vast disappointment, the box had been empty. He had clung to the hope of the mail carrier being late that day. He had drudged inside, divesting himself of his clothes; sighing all the while, thinking that his dream wouldn't come true. He had had already started growing his hair out. He had had the brochure pinned to his wall.
Eventually he had arrived in the kitchen.
"Hi Bren."
Bren remembered that school had let out earlier for Toby in those days. He had gone to get something to drink, not really paying attention to his younger brother, so it had taken him several moments to realize that Toby was starring intently at a letter lying in the middle of the table.
"It's for you, Bren. From the State Department."
It had looked so small and innocent, lying there all shiny and white.
They had both stared at it for several minutes. Bren had imagined what the letter would say, how it would change his life. He didn't know what he would do if they didn't accept him. He couldn't imagine what else he could become.
Finally, Toby had wordlessly pushed the letter towards him.
Bren had slowly lifted the letter up, feeling its weight The smooth paper under his hands. He had seen the all too Mospheiran form of the letter, so different from the atevi-style message scroll he had had made for fun.
Carefully he had ripped the letter open. It had seemed so loud to them in the silent kitchen, Bren's and Toby's attention utterly fixed on the letter.
In the end it had been too much for him. He had taken the letter out and almost tore it in his sudden haste to know the answer which had had plagued him all week.
And there it had been: "Bren Cameron ... paidhi program ... accepted".
All the worry and stress had fallen off him. He had sunk back on his chair, only seeing that one magical sentence. Then Toby had been there, hugging him.
"Congratulations, Bren."
He had simply hugged his brother, not finding any words at the time.
And today his brother was here, bringing food and company.
Yet as welcome as Toby was, the duality at the table had Bren twitching. He would be far happier if their mother was here as a felicitous third, even though she kept worrying about the possibility of Bren going to the unreachable mainland.
