Hope

We sit in silence for a long time as I struggle to wrap my brain around the whole thing. How can Aliston say that they kill their own species so calmly? Like it doesn’t matter? Like life doesn’t matter.

If they’re so heartless to their own, what lies ahead for humans? Over and over again I hear that humans are lesser. That we’re primitive and don’t have much value. Will this- this law be implemented here? Will humans begin to disappear as they’re killed off for ‘not having a use’?

“Why-why is he here then?” I whisper, avoiding any eye contact.

Aliston shifts slightly in his seat, blinking slowly. “His family were conflicted on the issue. As he was here on Earth, there was no way of knowing how severe the injury to Caster’s head was. I offered an alternative solution, and in return his family would not have to take him on as their burden.”

No, that’s wrong. Caster isn’t a burden; how could someone say that? Sure, he has trouble talking, and walking, and overall functioning, but has Aliston not seen the way the alien takes on life? Lavere adores him, for one. Isn’t that important? Caster is so happy and joyful, spreading his love and cheer around all day every day. I honestly would have probably quit if it wasn’t for Caster smiling and brightening my day.

How could someone call him a burden?

“So, you’re saying that because he has an issue that-that isn’t even his own fault, he’s a burden?”

Aliston stays quiet. His lack of response only serves to aggravate me, my jaw ticking in frustration. “Do you think that putting Caster to work, doing chores and- and picking up after you makes him useful? What about what he wants? Does he get a say in anything?”

Something flashes in Aliston’s eyes, too quick for me to tell exactly what it was, but the tense atmosphere that swallows us in the small room is enough of an indicator to how he feels about my words.

Disgust coils in my stomach, my view of the aliens plummeting lower than it already was. How can an entire species have a law that justifies killing people because they’re different?

“Is that why Avørek harasses him all the time? Because he thinks Caster should have been put down like a feral dog?”

Aliston’s eye twitches. “Excuse me?”

I shut my mouth, knowing if I open it I’ll only end up saying something to make the situation worse. Avørek is Aliston’s son, after all. It’s probably not very wise to for me to be bad mouthing him when I actually want to keep this job.

“It’s true,” I bite, chewing on my tongue to keep the rest of my thoughts locked away.

He sighs, the annoyance melting away a little as he looks off to the side. A sombre expression on his otherwise emotionless face. “Avørek does not always see eye to eye with my decisions.”

That doesn’t give him, or his son, the right to treat Caster like a slave. Caster didn’t ask for this! This is the life that was thrown into his lap, and he had to bear the consequences. How difficult is that to understand? If someone is suffering, you don’t dispose of them, or treat them like a house maid. You help them!

“Caster didn’t ask for this,” I say, wringing my hands in my lap. “Shouldn’t you be doing everything in your power to make sure he, I mean she, has the most normal life she can? Avørek is cruel to Caster, when there’s nothing Caster can do to change herself.”

There’s another quiet moment as Aliston searches my face with his large eyes. “I suppose you have a point.”

I damn right have a point!

“Will you talk to your son about his behaviour then?”

Aliston purses his lips. “Yes.”

I breath a soft sigh of relief, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants. “Thank you.”

We both stand from our seats, Aliston humming in response. As we reach the door, Aliston stops me with a hand on my shoulder. “I must again apologise again for not informing you of the situation sooner. Caster does not usually get so attached to my employees.”

He moves past me, waiting for me to join him down the hall towards the stairs.

“There’ve been others?” I didn’t know.

“Yes.” Aliston nods. “You are not the first human to work here. You are the fifth to be hired for the care of Lavere.”

Five past employees? Concern gnaws at my gut. Lavere isn’t very old. How could they have gone through so many people so quickly?

“What happened to them?”

Aliston makes a strange noise in his throat, slowing his pace so that it takes us longer to reach the end of the hallway. “They did not get along with Avørek, or they did not like Caster.”

I understand that, I guess. If you don’t understand how Caster works, you may find it frustrating when he doesn’t listen to you or forgets to do the things you asked. Avørek is a whole other issue. That alien doesn’t seem like he could get along with anyone.

“I guess I can understand. Avørek isn’t exactly the nicest person to be around.”

Aliston turns to face me briefly with a stern expression. “I must warn you not to get too comfortable around my son. He can be manipulative.”

I blink, a little confused as to why he would ever think I could be friends with the alien. Not to mention, I don’t think it’s common for a father to say that about his own flesh and blood.

“Right,” I drag the word out. “That won’t be a problem. I try to avoid him when possible. It causes less issues.”

Aliston hums. “You are not the first person to think that way and still end up—”

“Emery!” Caster thunders up the stairs, his mop of hair popping up before the rest of his body follows.

He’s covered head to toe in paint, a paintbrush clutched tightly in one fist, and his artwork in another. He looks absolutely thrilled. “Finish painting! Put on fridge now? It very good, Caster promise.”

He completely ignores Aliston who is standing there with a half glare for being interrupted. Instead, Caster steps closer, bouncing on his feet in excitement as he waves the piece of paper close to my face to have a look.

“That is amazing! Come on, we better get you back down-stairs, so you don’t get paint everywhere.”

He nods, zipping down the stairs, bare feet thumping loudly on the carpet. Aliston winces, looking pained at seeing the blue-eyed alien thunder away like a caveman. I smile at Aliston, dismissing myself to follow Caster back into the kitchen.

“Hey, Cas?” I ask once we retake our seats at the kitchen bench. “What happened to Lavere’s previous nannies?”

He freezes. Hands squeezing the jar of dirty glass water.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Caster bites his lip, clutching the glass even tighter before standing from his seat and moving to the sink to dump it out. “Caster not meant to talk about.”

A frown makes its way onto my face. Why wouldn’t he be allowed to talk about the previous people who worked here? I pick up the brushes, moving to the sink as well to begin packing up. We obviously weren’t going to be doing anymore painting.

“Why?”

He shrugs, chewing harshly on his bottom lip as she sloshes water in the glass to clean it, before moving stiffly back to the bench where his painting sits. “Aliston said no.”

Again, I ask, “Why?”

Caster offers half a shrug, fingers tapping on the bench nervously. “They gone. Aliston say not to talk about that.”

“Gone as in, what? They were fired?”

This just seems to confuse the alien. “Caster not know what that is. They, uh, they gone. Avørek, mad.”

He stumbles over his words, his fingers tapping quicker on the marble as he avoids my eye.

“So,” I drag out. “Avørek got mad at them? Then what?”

Caster flinches, shoulders hunching in as he grabs his art piece and stares at it. “They gone. Gone, gone. Caster not, uh, how to say.”

His nervous demeanour begins to make my own nerves play up, my stomach erupting in butterflies, and not the good kind. “I don’t understand, Caster. Do you mean they left? Did Avørek get them fired? Or are they like, I don’t know, dead?” I huff out a half-hearted laugh at the last option, not at all serious.

Caster stays quiet.

I step closer, trying to get him to look at me, but he refuses. Instead stubbornly looking around the room at anything other than me. “You’re serious.” It comes out as a whisper.

Caster makes a whining noise in his throat.

“You, you can’t be serious. How can they all be dead?”

Caster finally looks at me, his big eyes filling with tears. “I-I,” he stutters.

“All of them are dead? All five?”

Caster nods, stepping into my personal space to whisper with tears in his eyes. “Avørek always get them. Be friends, and-and, get mad after.”

Panic claws at my throat, eyes darting towards the stairs in case the alien suddenly appears. “All of them died because of Avørek?”

The little blue-eyed alien nods, blinking away his tears. “Yes,” he whispers with a pained whine. “Emery must stay away. Must! Caster like you, not want-want Avørek get you.”

He lets out a small cry, clutching a hand in my shirt and pulling himself into my chest. I wrap my arms around him, shushing gently in hopes the alien will calm down. He seems scared, no terrified, that what ever happened to the previous nannies, will happen to me too.