Displaced

Timber - Forty-One

I tried to hide my jealousy as I watched Chevelle head for the balcony door. It was a few days after Paul had given us our job requests, and for the first time since arriving on the Achlivan ship, I was going to be totally alone. Chevelle was ditching me for the support group, pretty much bluntly stating she'd rather be anywhere but by all of my daycare kids. As for Lara, she was going to school. A couple of her friends came by only a few minutes before to pick her up.

She was blending in well. Not only did she have a good solid number of friends, but she also was picking up on who the adults were too. I wish I could have sat in on the school day because I was curious about what the kids were going to be taught. Would they learn the basic subjects like math, science, English, and history? Or were they going to be taught the ways of the Achlivan so they could integrate properly with the rest of the population on the ship? I really wanted to know, no, needed to know. These were the minds of the future being molded, or warped, by crazy aliens.

But I was stuck with daycare duty, and I was petrified.

"Have fun?" Chevelle offered with a wave as she headed out the door.

Not amused, I glared at her, keeping my jaw tight. Perhaps I laid it on a little too thick, because she winced before she disappeared from my sight. At the same time, I was kind of mad at her. She was leaving for a good enough reason, so I tried not to let it peeve me too much. The support group was necessary. I just hated that she was going for the simple fact that she didn't want to help me.

I took in a deep breath. "I've done worse things than change diapers. It's going to be fine."

Paul promised me I wouldn't be given more than I could handle, and that he would help me for the day. All I had to do was make sure the apartment was baby-proofed. I made sure all of the dishes were put away, no dangerous items were on the tables, and all of the plugs were covered. I even pulled out a few toys from the nursery into the living room so the kids could have more space.

There was a soft knock on my door that I recognized as being Paul's. He had a certain way of making it clear he needed to be there, but at the same time like he regretted intruding on anyone. The guy was weird, yet fascinating.

I opened the door, waving for him to come inside. In his arms was a baby who was looking around the apartment with rather wide curious eyes. The baby had dark skin and large, chubby cheeks. Thick, curly hair covered her head. Cute kid, and she wasn't screaming her head off or drooling everywhere...yet. Paul held the child out to me, and with a lot of hesitation I took her.

"This is Monique," Paul said. "She's just over a year old."

"Oh," I said. I know that information was important, but it meant nothing to me. There was probably a big difference in kids just based on their ages. I'd heard people talk about it before, but what those differences are is a mystery to me.

My nerves must have been obvious. Paul put a hand on my shoulder. "Today, you will only have her. Tomorrow, I'll give you one more. At the end of the first week, you'll have three. From there, we'll decide how well this suits you. She is an easy one, I promise. Quiet unless something is wrong or she's hungry, she doesn't walk without holding onto something yet, and she doesn't have any allergies to worry about. Monique does like to chew, however, so I would make sure you're careful about what you leave out."

"Uh-huh," I managed. Three kids by the end of the week couldn't be too awful, right?

Paul walked into the living room to go and sit on the couch. I followed him, not taking my eyes off of Monique. Her gaze never left me and her eyes continued to be wide, like she didn't know what to think of me. Could babies sense fear? Or was she just confused because I was a new person?