Mikael Schantz

The sun is just starting to disappear behind the horizon when Mikael arrives home. His father’s car is not in the driveway, meaning he must still be at work. His work time has been very irregular recently as he is working on some important proposal so it’s become almost impossible to predict when he will or won’t be at home.
As Mikael enters the house, there is no smell of food in the air. It seems his mother hasn’t gotten around to cooking anything yet.

As the house door shuts noisily behind Mikael, he hears a surprised gasp coming from the downstairs bathroom. "Oscar?", his mother’s voice asks in a worried tone. It’s obvious she expected to be alone and the thought that Mikael’s father might have unexpectedly come home is not a pleasant one for her. "Is that you? I thought you said you’d sleep in town today? What brings you here?"

Mikael sighs and rolls his eyes before responding. "It's just me, mom!" he shouts downstairs, loud enough so she can clearly hear. Apparently she's still not used to me being back home, he thinks. Annoyed at the pang of hunger in his belly, but more so that there is clearly no evidence of dinner, he starts to head downstairs so he doesn't have to yell through the house.

As Mikael passes by the bathroom, he finds the door open and his mother in front of the mirror, applying her makeup. She's wearing a bathrobe but a nice dress is hanging ready next to her. She's clearly getting ready to go out - and obviously not with his father.
"Ah, Mikael," she says, smiling at him in the mirror. "I'm meeting a friend tonight so you'll have to feed yourself. I'm not sure when I'll be back but don't wait for me." She turns back to looking at herself in the mirror when something occurs to her and she glances at him again. "How was your day?", she asks him, already returning to her makeup before he can begin to answer.

Mikael's face flushes with red as he's flushed with a mix of emotions: anger, frustration, sadness. He himself is not certain which will convey his next words until he feels them slip form between his lips. "You're seeing that guy again, aren't you? I'm not an idiot." To his surprise, its disappointment that flavors his speech. He slumps his shoulders and sighs audibly. "I don't get it, mom. Do you hate us?" He feels tears well up in his eyes but he stands firm.

His mother sighs in exasperation. Mikael remembers that sigh from when he was younger. It's her method of trying to make him feel like a child who doesn't understand the adult world. It used to work on him but the older he's getting, the less it impresses him. "Why would I hate you, my sweet boy," she says. There is some sincerity in her tone, but also some annoyance. "Yes, I am meeting 'that guy' again but I have told you before, he is just a friend. Don't be so dramatic, Mikael." She returns to her makeup but then suddenly pauses. Mikael sees her sway for a moment and is almost certain she's going to faint before she catches herself.
"Did you see that?", she asks him. "This red light. That was weird."

Mikael startles a bit when he sees his mom's sudden change in condition. He reflexively move toward her, thinking he might need to catch her, but before he move more than a centimeter, she rights herself and seems okay again.

"Red light?" he says puzzled, "Mom, are you okay?" He reaches out and places a hand on her arm, as she turns back to the mirror to finish her makeup. "Mom," he says again, more insistently. She looks to him and he adds, "Maybe you can stay home today. I can make you something to eat...we can watch a movie or something."

END Part 1

After the others have left, Mikael is left alone in his empty house. There is no food in the kitchen so he figures that if he feels hungry - and able to eat after the sight they encountered in the field earlier - he'll probably have to order something.
Before he gets the chance, however, the front door opens and he hears his father's voice call through the house. "I'm home!", he announces. When the only response he gets is from Mikael, he quickly takes off his shoes and jacket and comes up to his son, wherever in the house he is at the time.
"I managed to take off from work earlier than expected today. Are you alone?", he asks him. "Where is your mother?"

Mikael doesn't feel much like eating right away, as finding a dead body throws his body way off - the thought of food alone almost makes him want to hurl. He lies on his bed, head spinning with the day's events for a while as he gradually convinces himself to skip dinner entirely.

Still up on his room, he hears the front door open and his father announce himself. He sits bolt upright, smile on his face. "Up here, pappa!" he replies immediately. He races down the stairs to greet his father.

"Yes," he replies, "I had some friends over after school, but they left a while ago." He quietly glances over at the liquor cabinet to confirm Sabine closed it up properly after he gave her free reign over its contents - it looks neat enough and he hopes his father didn't notice the glance.

"Mamma hasn't been home, not since I got here." He considers saying something about his mother's 'friend' that she makes herself up for and visits all the time, the one who comes around only when his father isn't home and the whispers that pass too lithely between the man and his mom. He decides against it - as angry as the situation makes him, and as imperfect he knows his dad is, he still loves his parents and isn't quite ready for his world to crumble apart just yet. "I'm not sure where she is. No note or anything, I was hoping you had heard from her." He takes on a worried look and adds, "I hope she's okay."

"How are you?" he asks, switching the subject. "I didn't see you yesterday, you must have gotten home really late." He looks up at the clock. "Want to watch a movie?" he asks, hopeful. He can't remember the last time he spent time with his father, just the two of them.

"I didn't get home at all last night. I slept in the office," Mikael's father replies. "That's why I decided I earned an early end of work today." He smiles. "It's such a shame about your mother not being here. Maybe she is just out shopping or something."

He shrugs with a heaviness that makes Mikael think that part of him at least knows there's more to it than that, but then he smiles at his son and says: "A movie, that sounds great. How about I order us a pizza and something to drink. What would you like? Cola, Sockerdricka?" He makes a purposeful pause before suggesting: "Or would you like some beer or a glass of whiskey, now that your mom is not home to complain about it?"

Mikael stomach is still lurching, but he doesn't want to raise questions about his lack of hunger. "Yeah, sure, pizza sounds good," he says. "You'll let me have a beer?" he asks, surprised. His father had always been way more lax about rules than his mother, but this still surprised him a little, just not in a bad way.

He still worries his dad might see something in the liquor cabinet if he were to check it carefully, and Mikael can make sure everything is put back exactly as it should be later tonight or in the morning. "Yeah, I'll have a beer, if you'll have have one too. Can we check to see if that Shawshank Redemption move is playing anywhere yet? It's supposed to be great."

His urge to just curl up in bed and fall into a deep sleep is sharply countered by this rare moment to spend time with his father. Besides, maybe this will help take his mind off of everything they saw today.

Mikael's father smiles at his interest in having a beer with him. He takes out two bottles of starköl, not paying any attention to the rest of his alcoholic storage and not noticing that any of it is missing. After picking out pizza together, he orders it on the phone and the father and son sit down on the couch together, checking what movies are on on TV tonight.

When the pizza arrives, Mikael's father takes it inside and they share it in front of the TV, rather than eating in the dining room as his mother always insists on.
"You know, Mikael," his father says as they're eating. "I'm glad you're making friends at school. I was worried you'd have trouble integrating into a public school again. Feel free to bring them over whenever you want." Nudging him with his elbow, he adds: "Them, or any girls."

"Yeah," Mikael says with a laugh, "It's been weird going back to school here." He thinks twice but adds, "It...hasn't been easy." He looks down at his feet for a moment before looking back at his dad, sitting near him on the sofa. "But everything's great! Honestly, it's tough to figure out where to spend my time. You know, I have people begging me to be on the soccer team, people asking me to join the school newspaper...someone even asked me the other day if I could lead the debate team again." He and offers his best fake smile, "They said the only way they would win regionals is if they had my experience, since they heard how well I did at my old school."

Not a single bit of any of this was true, of course, but Mikael couldn't let his dad know the truth: he was in line to barely pass most of his classes, almost everyone at school hated him, and he was hardly good at anything. Oh, and the girl he's loved for years likes other girls - and has a cool-ass girlfriend. Double oh - I found a dead body today and decided it was probably definitely murder and that my friends and I should go ahead and look into that ourselves, because - let's be honest - it's the most exciting thing that's happened in my world for almost half a year.

"Really though, everyone wants me to hang out with them and help them out. I turned them down, of course, so I can focus on school. Besides, I have Eric and Kajsa, and a couple other friends I met through them. They're cool. Thanks for letting them come over."

At the mention of girls he raises an eyebrow and playfully punches his dad's leg. "Are you sure?" he asks, "We don't really want company THAT often, do we?" He smiles and reaches for a piece of pizza, placing it on a plate as they zero in on a movie to watch. He takes a bite and his stomach turns - it's all he clan do to hold back the vomit. He sits back and takes a drink of the beer. It doesn't help much.

"If you can keep up with them, and your school work, Mikael, you have all the company you want. Just be safe," his dad says sitting back to sip on his own beer with a smile of genuine pride in his son.

"Sure, pappa," Mikael says, "You got it."

He let himself throw up an hour later, before the movie even finished, and excused himself to bed. His dad seemed concerned, but when Mikael said it was nothing the subject was dropped quickly. Mikael lies in bed, angry at himself and sickened over what happened to Mark. He hopes to himself that the others found someone they could talk to better, someone that understood them. For all his efforts, Mark never let his parents know him, and aside from the times he's with his friends, he feels very alone.

END Part 2

It's still fairly early into the next day, long before their planned meeting in the afternoon, when Mikael's father sends him out to get some coffee. Neither he nor Mikael's mom have left the bedroom at all this day yet and he sounded unwell when he asked for this favor. On the upside, with them both home, at least Mikael's mom can't go visit her friend. On the downside, it seems they may be getting sick.

Just as he got the cups with coffee for himself and his family, Mikael is suddenly woken from his thoughts by a voice calling his name. He turns and sees Herr Andersson, his favorite teacher, sitting at one of the tables, a cup of milk coffee next to him and a pile of papers spread out in front of him. He smiles at Mikael. "I thought that was you," Herr Andersson says. "I didn't know you lived nearby."

Huh, Mikael thinks, being pulled from the daze of his thoughts. "Oh, hey Herr Andersson! Yeah," he laughs, "Mikael Schantz, the one and only. I don't live super close, but it's nice to get out of the house. Fresh air and all that, you know?" He motions with his nose towards the papers, "One of mine in there?" slipping now into English - "I understand with authority I am always doing best work." He nods and smiles as if he just pulled a rabbit out of his hat.

At his question, Herr Andersson flips through the papers in front of him. "There should be one of yours here," he replies in English. "They're the essays you handed in on Monday. I haven't gotten to yours yet, however." Switching back into Swedish, he continues: "I also haven't gotten myself to read Mark's yet. I don't know if I will." Looking up at Mikael, he asks: "How are you dealing with this? I heard you were friends."

"I..." Mikael considers how to respond to this. They weren't truly friends, not in life, but over the last couple days he feels he's grown closer to the kid than he ever would have on the bus and at school. He feels loss and remorse for Mark in a way that wasn't possible the day they found his body - at that time he had just been freaked out a bit. "Yeah," he says, "We were friends. Honestly it's been weird. I think Mark was going through a hard time but I...I just don't know how he could have done that to himself." He narrows his eyes and takes a short step closer. "You knew Mark from class, did he seem like he would...you know...do that to himself? And why like that? Such a bizarre way to do it."

Herr Andersson grows very serious. "You think he did this on purpose?", he asks. He runs a hand through his hair and folds up the papers in front of him into a single pile. "I never had the feeling he would... you know. I know he had trouble fitting in but he seemed like a bright kid. And he was really passionate about his photography. I still can't really believe he's gone, and if this is difficult for me, I can only imagine how it must be for you." He gives you a sad half-smile. "You know you can always talk to me, right? I think you have my number. Call me if you're having any trouble. With your classmates, your family, anything. You're not alone."

"I really don't know," Mikael lied, "Maybe? It seems like a pretty dumb accident. Nobody climbs those things for fun, even on a dare, and like you said, he was pretty smart. He had to have known how dangerous that would be." He shakes his head, then at Herr Andersson's words he felt a wave of almost overwhelming, authentic relief wash over him- here was someone who didn't HAVE to be here for him, someone who had no obligation to him, really, but was offering himself to listen. "I...yeah, thanks Herr Andersson," he says, "I could use someone to talk to, actually." He felt relief at asking, but was somehow still terrified at the thought of opening up to someone. All the weight of this crap with Mark was crushing him, maybe if he could talk to someone about the other stuff that's been piling on...well, maybe that could help a little. "Would it be okay if I sit down for a minute?"

"Of course," Herr Andersson says. He gestures to the chair opposite him. "What is it? Are the other kids giving you trouble? I know it must be tough. You were at a different school and are now returning to this one. Everyone already knows each other. Do you have any good friends here?"

Mikael takes a seat, carefully setting the coffees down on the table. "Yeah, you know...it's been okay. I have a few friends, I guess. Just old friends from before I left, mostly, but a couple new ones. You know Eric and me are friends, have been since before we were in 6th year English with you. And his cousin, Kajsa. We were close. But then my parents sent me away and they moved on, got new friends. It's been kinda lame, but they're trying to include me. I just feel so, I don't know the right word...optional?" He sighs. "Ah, I'm sorry, I'm just being a dumb kid. We get along fine, really."