Calling Names [Cee]

[Mike Batista]

It was an odd thing to find in the hallways. A pair of glasses. Thick-lensed enough that someone was probably missing them, and sized big enough that they belonged either to an adult or one of the older students. Mike wasn't Sean, who probably knew who amongst the students wore glasses and moreover probably knew who these belonged to, so he just folded them up and put them in his shirt pocket to take to the office later.

Into the lounge, Mike mixed himself up a cup of coffee with milk and sugar. He had about a half hour lull in the afternoon he usually used to update paperwork and files, but they were all done today, so he was empty-handed. His sneakers and the knees of his jeans were a little grass-stained from training that morning, but his shirt and the zippered sweatshirt he wore were still clean. The glasses poked out of the pocket, but Mike knew they'd stay. He hummed a little as he added an ice cube to his drink. If it wasn't too busy, he thought he'd stop at the grocery after school. Chicken was on sale, and the brand of frozen vegetables he liked. Mike didn't serve meat at every meal, but luckily the Stewarts didn't object to legumes or going vegetarian.

When his coffee was at the right temperature, he sipped, and walked over to look out one of the windows. When he heard the door of the lounge open, he turned with a smile, ready for a little conversation if the other person seemed amenable.

[Cee Cohen]

Cee was missing a pair of glasses. But this was such a common occurance that it didn’t occur to him to miss them. Cee was always losing his glasses in one way or another. He just accumulated them year by year. Every time his insurance let him get a new pair, he got one. Add that up for about twenty years, and you could get a lot of glasses. And when he’d been making a lot of money, he’d managed to buy even more. So he had a lot of them. Besides, they usually showed up sooner or later. Most people knew that the computer instructor was almost completely blind—even with his glasses.

However, today he seemed to have lost more than usual, and even had misplaced his contacts, so…it was one of those days when Cee was lucky if he managed to make it through class okay.

He managed to survive mostly by directing students what to do, finding the students who did know what they were doing and directing them to help, and then hiding behind his desk until break, when he promptly stumbled into the hall to try to retrace his steps. It must’ve been quite a sight, poor Cee walking along, carefully keeping track of the wall as he tried to blink his vision into better focus, but without much luck. A few faculty members who liked him helped him out by playing the human guide-dog, and eventually he made it into the staff lounge, where he saw a person who—he thought—turned around. That white blur might’ve been a smile, so Cee smiled back.

“Oh, hello!” he said. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen a pair of glasses around, by any chance? I seem to have misplaced mine and I, ah.” He colored. “I am having extreme difficulties managing since that point.”

[Mike Batista]

As teachers went, Mike had interacted with a great many of them, had sought a few out if his tougher kids seemed to favor them to help build connections, but did not by any means know all of them. Being of the older generation, Mike was reasonably computer literate but didn't spend much time on his machine at home outside of checking his email, the weather, and going through trainer's files he kept at home. As such, he didn't have much in common with the technology teachers, most of whom liked to talk about their subject outside of class, but he was never against making friends. He had yet to meet Mr. Cohen, but like most of the staff, knew there was a rather forgetful instructor about who lost things. Mike didn't connect 'lost things' with the glasses in his pocket, as... glasses were serious things to lose, but he also wasn't aware that Cee had quite so many to spare.

The tall, gangly man who entered was squinting mightily and looked worse for wear, and Mike's face went from welcoming to concerned, with a bit of confusion thrown in.

“Oh, hello! I don’t suppose you’ve seen a pair of glasses around, by any chance? I seem to have misplaced mine and I, ah. I am having extreme difficulties managing since that point.”

Setting his coffee down, Mike approached and pulled the glasses from his pocket out and offered them. "These? I found them in the hallway, on the floor."

There were things he could add about glasses being tough things to lose, caveats about keeping track of things, but this man wasn't one of his students or fosters. So instead he asked, "Are you alright?"

[Cee Cohen]

Cee was not doing well in the vision spectrum, and as Mike approached him, he squinted a bit until they came into focus. Then he brightened immediately. “Wonderful! Thank you so much.” He was pretty sure they were his. Most of the other instructors didn’t use glasses. He was the exception rather than the rule, and the rest of them definitely didn’t lose things. He reached out his hand and took the glasses, examining them carefully to check and see if they were his, then slipped them onto his face and winced a little, rubbing his forehead, as the world attempted to swim into focus. The glasses never worked as well as his contacts, but it was a step in the right direction. “You are marvelous, my good sir. Ah, what’s your name?” He squinted at the other man. “I don’t think we’ve been acquainted.”

It was a good thing that Mike hadn’t scolded Cee. When it came to things like glasses, Cee had been scolded so many times that he became numb and had developed a strong aversion. In fact, any advice tended to have him scuttling off back into his lab. It was easier to run away than to listen to all the words that he’d been told a million times.

“Hm?” Cee was inspecting a rip in his sleeve and then at his knee with dismay. “Apparently not. I never do well without my glasses.” He glanced up. “I apologize. That’s a bit…irrelevant.”

[Mike Batista]

For all his enthusiasm, the man still looked over the glasses before putting them on like he wasn't sure... of what? That they'd work? Amusement and concern warred within him, keeping his expression neutral, if slightly confused. Then the man slipped them on, and life all around seemed to improve. Mike had to smile at the enthusiastic thanks and greeting.

"I don't think we've met either," he agreed, knowing that if he'd net this particular fellow before, he'd remember it. Extending his hand, he said cheerfully, "I'm Miguel Batista. Mike. I'm a trainer."

Most of the time when he met new (to him) staff, Mike gave his full name, with the diminutive to let them know what he preferred. In most staff literature he was listed as 'Miguel', and here in the northeast there was a sometimes a bit of a disconnect between that and 'Mike'. It was usually only in saying his name that Mike's faint Spanish accent asserted itself; the rest of the time unless one knew to listen for it, it had all but disappeared in his long time in the East.

He noticed the rends in the man's clothes when he did, and frowned a little in sympathy. "There might be a few iron-on patches in the Home Ec room," he offered, pointing down at the pants. Mike smiled again. "No need to apologize. Accidents happen."

[Cee Cohen]

Cee’s glasses never did quite work the way they were supposed to. That was mostly because his condition wasn’t actally fixed with glasses, but could be fixed only with the contact lenses that he never, ever wore. And in truth, they kind of hurt to wear as the purpose was to physically reshape his eyes. Not the most fun of experiences.

He took the hand that was extended to him and beamed. “Miguel Batista. That’s a wonderful name.” Much better than Cornelius Connor Cohen, which was not a wonderful name but was all kinds of awful, at least in his opinion. Actually, he had yet to meet anyone who disagreed with him on that part. Still, as the man had gifted him with his full name, Cee felt it was only fair to give him the same. “Cornelius Cohen. Friends call me Cee. And by friends, I mean mostly everyone because I do hate it.”

“Hm?” Cee glanced down at his clothes and blinked. He honestly hadn’t noticed they were torn. “That would not be a beneficial idea. I tend to burn myself around hot items and I do not actually know how to fix patches. But thank you for the suggestion! Perhaps I can, ah, buy something—or new pants. I do that. Quite a lot, as it happens.”

[Mike Batista]

Mike had never been told his name was wonderful; it was the Hispanic equivalent of Dan Johnson. It amused him. But he supposed to a non-Latino it would sound a little more exotic, especially said with the correct accent.

"Thank you," he said, managing at the last second not to turn it into a question.

When the man introduced himself, Mike smiled broadly but did take the hint. "Another wonderful name, but I'll spare you, Cee."

"If you didn't know how I'm sure someone would do it for you," he said. Ironing patches could be hard for someone who'd never done it. Mike had ruined a pair of his own pants doing so back in California (he'd had the heat too high and had then ironed the patch onto the wrong side). "But starting over's not a bad idea sometimes either."

Nodding towards the table, he said (not knowing what a terrible idea this was), "There's fresh coffee." And since he didn't recognize the man at all, he asked, "Been here long? What do you teach? I'm a trainer, myself."

[Cee Cohen]

It wasn’t so much that it sounded exotic or that it wasn’t normal to Cee. Cee had grown up in California and was relatively used to Hispanic names, although multiple people had requested for him never to speak Spanish again because he tended to pronounce the words with a bit too much enthusiasm (rather like he did with English, as it happened). But he just liked how words rolled off the tongue, and this particular name…well, let’s just say he’d be saying it a lot. Probably with lots of different inflections.

“Thank you for your sympathies and consideration,” Cee replied gravely. “It is not wonderful to anyone who has to carry it.” Besides, Cornelius Connor Cohen did not roll off the tongue. Too many hard sounds. While Miguel Batista…Yup.

“Umm…” It was half hummed. “That might be best. I am not usually allowed near heated items, you see. It’s generally considered to be a poor idea. Oh, look! Coffee!”

Oh dear. Someone stop him please. He headed over to it immediately and poured himself a cup, sipping it black (Cee got coffee so rarely before someone tore it out of his hand that he tended to drink it black because then at least he’d get to taste some of it) and sighing. “That’s marvelous. Hm? Oh, I have been here only briefly. I teach computer sciences, as it happens. I am supposing…you have been here for a while?”

[Mike Batista]

As one who could see the downside of an unusual name (being a teacher and having seen more than his share of strange monikers over the years and what they did to kids), 'Cornelius' was one he hadn't run into before and he rather liked it. It was old fashioned, certainly, and it probably had given the poor man no end of teasing, but at the same time it was a breath of fresh air.

Not... allowed near heated items? Did the man have a keeper? Mike managed to hide a smile behind a hand scratching his lip, and then Cee found the coffee. Since he didn't know about the caveat there he just noted the enthusiasm that overtook most upon coffee discovery and smiled.

"Twenty-six years," he affirmed. "Computer science?" Mike nodded. "Hats off to you. I have one myself but I can't say I'm any whiz on it, but then, I don't need to be. You a PC or a Mac person?"

The Batista house had a PC, two of them in fact, one for his own use and one his fosters could bang away on. His was a Windows 7 machine, but the one for the kids still used XP. He knew he had to update it, but had been putting it off. He had no idea what to get, didn't like Windows 8.

"Any recommendations for a new PC?"

[Cee Cohen]

“Linux, actually,” Cee said. “Although I do enjoy the beauty of an Apple operating system, it’s basically just a modified version of Linux when you get down to it and it’s simpler and faster to modify it to my own needs.” Cee’s way of talking was normally considered eclectic, and rightly so, but when he started talking about computers it became downright bizarre and certainly hard to follow.

Yet another reason that yes, Cee really does need a keeper.

“But Macs are extremely good at their normal functions,” he said. “And for specific purposes. But they’re too restrictive for my tastes. And Windows is too, ah, glitchy. But you do need it to code, so I guess it’s best to have all of the…” He trailed off. “I apologize. I’m discussing this pointlessly. For new ones? Well, they have some beautifully refurbished systems on Amazon without the usual irritating add-ons. Windows 7. Otherwise the HP Envy is a touchscreen and has some lovely features. Windows 8, though, but you can operate almost entirely in the desktop mode if you know what you’re doing.” Cee had been a beta-tester for Windows 8. A nice thing about still having contacts in the industry. He realized he was talking too much again and offered a sheepish smile. “Sorry. It’s my field. I’d imagine you have a lot of astonishing trainer stories?”

[Mike Batista]

Mike wasn't so out of it that he didn't know what Linux was, but he recognized the name and very little else about it. But he was able to follow what Cee said, if not be able to give any of his own opinions about it. It was interesting though! Hearing what an expert had to say. He'd asked, after all.

"Oh, don't apologize. I don't mind! It's nice hearing about what people are enthusiastic about, even if I can't say much. And thanks for the tips. I don't much care for Windows 8 myself, but it's almost impossible to find a machine now that doesn't have it. I'll have to take a look at Amazon."

He chuckled. "I have too many trainer stories."

Mr. Cohen seemed to want examples, so Mike took a few from the far past so that no current students would have their privacy invaded. "Had a student who could fly who was afraid of heights. Couldn't get him to do anything but flap on the ground for over two years. Had another student, a girl, who shifted into something she was allergic to, and another shifter, a boy, who had to wear a flea collar in human form." He shook his head, smiling. "You get all kinds."

And just because he was curious, he asked, "Is it true computer people like yourself have more than one computer at home?"

Oh dear, if he only knew.

[Cee Cohen]

He had asked, and he’d gotten the full expert’s opinion with the full expert’s tone. To no one’s surprise. Cee didn’t often talk computers instead off zombies, but he was fully versed in both topics and quite willing to talk everyone’s ear off about both things. The only difference was for computers, Cee would actually apologize. No such luck for zombies.

“Computers have been my life for years,” he said, for once almost talking like a normal human being and not a slightly deranged dictionary. “And I love that they improve and change, really. And if I can help other people find something that works for them, so much the better. Amazon has a lot of them. You should take a look.”

Cee brightened as he listened to the stories. “Oh, flight with terrors about height? That would be terrible. Poor child. Poor children.” He smiled and shook his head. “I’m just grateful we have less technopaths. I was required to become extremely inventive with my antiviral programs.”

Poor Mike. That was not a question he should’ve asked.

“Of course! It’s not just multiple systems, you see. We tend to specialize. Different systems have different components and so are very good at different things. I’ll have one for programming, another for beta-testing, one that allows me to work with graphics, and then several more that I cannibalize for parts…” He trailed off again. “Why? You don’t have multiple systems in your home?”

[Mike Batista]

It was fine that Cee wasn't holding anything back with his computer talk, Mike would rather get all the right terms instead of 'that thingy at the bottom of the screen'. And yes, he was thinking about his mother with that reference.

He smiled when the younger man enthused, he liked hearing about things people enjoyed. "Sometimes I think they change too fast," Mike admitted. "I finally learn how to do one thing and it's obsolete." He was thinking he ought to get one of those tablets just to keep up with the technology. Not a smartphone - that was way more stuff than he ever needed a phone to do, but a tablet? He could use a tablet.

The smiling seemed a little out of synch with sympathy, but the stories were funny. That winged fellow never had gotten too far off the ground, though as far as Mike knew he was still holding his own out in the world.

The list of computers made Mike blink. That was at least three, probably five... wow. "No... well, I have one for myself and I have one that my foster kids use for homework. That's... not multiple systems, is it? They're both Windows machines."

Draining his coffee, he asked, "What other tech stuff do you recommend?"

Another question he probably shouldn't have asked, but hey, he hadn't even touched on the undead.

[Cee Cohen]

Cee shrugged. “Things do change quickly. I believe there’s even a term for it, such as future-shock.” He’d found that term while aimlessly browsing the internet and had quite enjoyed the experience. It was in some anthropology journal. He didn’t know what it meant but it sounded very cool, even if it didn’t have as many syllables as he favored. “It also gets extremely expensive to keep up,” he added. “I think a goal should be to ensure that new items are still compatible with the old ones. That way there is less of a pressure to continuously keep up with the new technologies.”

Cee was incapable of not smiling even with sympathy. It wasn’t a good thing, but it was just part of who he was. Besides, he’d gotten his own fair share of the stories from the twins, who’d been thinking of going into training. He knew a lot more than he often let on.

“No, that’s multiple systems,” he chirped cheerfully. “Two computers are both different systems unless they’re all tied into one comprehensive network with mobile desktops.” Don’t even ask. “But that’s standard. Very few homes only have one system.”

“Ummm…” Cee looked thoughtful. “Tablets are beneficial. They depend on prices, of course. I wouldn’t recommend a MacBook for your foster children unless they wish to go into art. You have…Gestalts, correct?” Cee’s smile turned a little wistful. “Dual mouse systems will work—if only so the other one’s hand doesn’t have to remain still and can move. Perhaps a cloned extra screen as well.”

[Mike Batista]

"Future-shock? I guess it goes well with sticker-shock." He considered the other man's words. "Yes, but then it would make the electronics companies less money, and they wouldn't want that. I read somewhere that those iPod things are only built to last about four years. Seems a waste, especially with those things not being very recyclable."

At home, Mike still had a CD player in a stereo-like unit and that was just fine for him. It had a radio built into it, and that was all he needed. Old fashioned, yes, but with all he'd read about e-waste, he felt he was ahead of things rather than behind. Of course, he didn't begrudge anyone their gadgets, but he felt the electronics companies weren't doing enough to make things fair and cared a bit too much about the bottom line rather than the human element.

Yeah, that went over Mike's head, but he was able to take 'no' from it.

Nodding thoughtfully, Mike smiled. "Yes, gestalts. Boy-girl pair." From that description Cee could probably guess who they were, since they were the only set of boy-girl on campus. Not the only fraternal set though, that was something. He smiled at the advice. "Good idea. I'll have to write that down. Thanks!"

Dual mice and dual screens. Made sense. He'd have to ask the Stewarts if that would help or be too confusing. He had no idea how to 'clone' a screen, but there were probably instructions online. Checking his watch, his break was over. Gently clapping Cee on the shoulder, he said, "It was good meeting you, but I gotta run. More training. Hope your glasses don't escape again."

A grin and a wave, and he was out.

[FIN]