Cailean

by Brent Miller

  That familial loyalty was probably the only thing to which he still held dear from his childhood. Despite the stark differences in their beliefs which led to their fallout, Aldric was thankful for that core trait which was instilled into him. He was aware, though, of the irony which resulted from that quality. That was what had led him to put Cailean’s best interests above those of his birth family. When he had chosen his new family over them, it had led to a brutal but unavoidable battle.

  As Aldric’s mind wandered, he tried to divert his attention from that scene. When he closed his eyes, though, he could still see the broken bodies of those who had raised him. His older brother, whom he had always admired in his own right, and sister, who had always been a bit of a protector. Their entire families, who were nothing more than innocent bystanders brainwashed by the cult of his father. Aldric envisioned the memory in third person, picturing what he must have looked like as some half-human, half-wolf beast. He’d made a deal with the wolf and somehow, it had listened. In exchange for his cession of his body to the wolf willingly on every remaining full moon, the animal had granted him the strength to defend his family in that moment. For the past three years, Aldric had held true to his word – no longer fighting the wolf and allowing it as much time as he could grant during the full moon.

  Over time he had wondered, of course, what exactly the implications were of the state he’d taken during that fight with his father. Given that he had managed to control himself then, was there some possibility that reversing the transformation – or at least remaining in control during it – was possible? At the very least, he knew he could control the wolf’s body when under the influence of wolfsbane, but he couldn’t stop his mind from considering the possibility that there was more. He’d made a promise to the wolf, though, and if it had somehow understood him, he was terrified of breaking it. Disregarding his desire to be honest, if the wolf felt slighted, Aldric was afraid that it could seize more control. While that wasn’t likely in his eyes, he didn’t know enough about his own heritage to completely ignore the chance.

  Aldric’s father had never taught his children the details of the curse with which he was afflicted. Through time, Aldric had learned of wolfsbane and the strange sensation of the first transformation. He’d experienced the healing and functional immortality, as well as the immunity to sickness. Through Linda, he’d seen the scars from before a scratch heal – leaving only one. He’d learned the truth of the rumor that killing the wolf which inflicted the curse being a cure. None of that, though, was made clear by his father. Apparently, he was under the impression that knowledge would give his children the power required to revolt. He had, however, certainly made it a point to describe in detail the horrors of the hunters and the threat they posed. He had taught of their desire to eliminate Aldric’s kind and painted himself to be their best defense. He had instilled a distrust and disdain for all of humanity through those teachings, which Aldric still struggled against in his thoughts. Over the centuries, Aldric had spent quite a bit of time pondering the fearmongering and brainwashing tactics of his father, but he found it terrifying that he was still piecing together new ways that the man had altered his mindset.

  Hearing the doorknob turn slightly, Aldric was torn from his thoughts. In a flash, he jumped from the couch and turned to face the sound, his fists raised as he prepared for an attack. Aldric’s heart raced as he glanced toward the hallway which led to Cailean’s room. With his enhanced speed, there was no doubt in his mind that he would cover the distance faster than any assailant, although it was nearly twice as far from him as the door. Regardless, adrenaline rushed through his veins as his parasympathetic nervous system responded to the threat.

  Slowly, the knob turned and the door creaked open. Linda stepped through the doorway, smiling and turning to wave at someone as she closed the door behind her. When she noticed Aldric’s expression, which still hadn’t quite softened from being startled, fear flashed over her eyes. As quickly as it had come, though, it was replaced with a comforting understanding.

  “What were you thinking about?” She asked calmly. Though paranoia was Aldric’s perpetual state of being, he didn’t typically react so harshly to her return, and she knew him well enough to recognize that it meant she’d perturbed him while deep in thought.

  “My father,” Aldric admitted, finally dropping his fists as his heartbeat returned to a regular rhythm. Her eyes fell, clearly overwhelmed with the rush of emotion that the mention of the man brought to her as well. Taking a deep breath, she collected herself and turned her attention back to him in attempt to be supportive.

  “It’s hard,” she acknowledged, moving closer and pulling him into an embrace. Stroking his hair, she whispered, “But it’s in the past. You’re not him. You never were, and you never will be.”

  “What if I’m too much like him?” Aldric mumbled, feeling like a scared child. His wounded pride still fought his vulnerability, but he needed to confide in his wife.

  “You aren’t.”

  “I think like him,” Aldric countered. “They’re fleeting thoughts, usually, but I do. His fatherhood is the only one I’ve known – what if I replicate it for Cailean?”

  Linda pulled back, staring intently into his eyes. The flame in her eyes told him that she not only disagreed with his assessment, but she was angered that he himself believed it.

  “You are already better than he was. Cailean thinks for himself. He is trying to learn, and you teach. You love our son, and you will always do what’s best for him.”

  Aldric looked down – unable to accept her onslaught of compliments. Regardless, she continued.

  “You would die for that boy, Aldric Phoenix. The only thing your father would fight for was power. For that – and that alone – you are better, stronger, than he ever was.”

  Aldric nodded, breathing steadily to avoid any display of emotion. Steeling himself, he finally looked at her and repeated the motion with more resolve. Running his fingers through his hair and washing away his lamentation and nostalgia, he moved back toward the couch.

  “So, how was your day?” He inquired, desperate to change the subject.

  “It was fun,” she shrugged. “Shopping, lunch, and endless conversation about our babies. What more could a mother want?”

  “Sounds incredible,” Aldric sarcastically teased.

  “It wasn’t that bad. She’s’ just an excited mother. It did get a little tedious though.”

  Aldric smiled, silently staring at his wife. She laughed quietly but it was clear to Aldric that there was more she wanted to say. Something was on her mind beyond the conversation with Bree. At the very least, some point had trapped her deep in thought. Aldric assumed it didn’t have to do with Samantha, but maybe that was just because he couldn’t imagine caring that much about someone else’s child.

  “What are you thinking about?” He asked.

  “Bree told me all about Samantha’s school. What she’s learning sounded so dull,” Linda started, carefully choosing her words. Aldric wasn’t sure where she was going, but he assumed it was something she knew he wouldn’t like. Sheepishly, she looked away and brushed hair from her face.

  “I just feel like school is not actually the place to learn things,” she concluded.

  “Fair enough,” Aldric admitted.

  “Well, I was thinking, what if we home schooled Cailean?”

  “No.”

  “Why not? Either one of us has more wisdom and experience than every teacher he would have through elementary school combined. You are just heartless enough to push him and make sure he learns. We would be able to cover so much more so much faster without waiting for all of the students to catch up. I just think we’re more qualified to teach him than anyone else – especially given the sheer volume of knowledge we’ve accumulated over the centuries.”

  “You’re right – and we will teach him. Just not exclusively.”

  “Why not?” Linda sighed, clearly annoyed at Aldric’s lack of
a true answer. Aldric sighed. Though he realized that cryptic was his perpetual state of being – and that wasn’t healthy for his relationship – he found it difficult to fight. In his eyes, it should be enough that he said it was a bad idea. Still, he accepted that to be kind to her, he could at least offer an explanation.

  “We’re recluses,” he began.

  “You make yourself a recluse. I have friends; I make it a point to get to know the neighbors,” she defended.

  “You’re friends with Bree, and yes, that’s better than I’m doing. Still, you don’t have a job. Your life, just like mine, is raising and protecting Cailean. Now, if he were to stay home all day, suddenly we become the family that doesn’t leave home. We become mysterious. People will ask questions which should be avoided.”

  “What ever happened to ‘the best way to fit in is to stand out’?”

  “Exactly. To stand out – to make a scene and to draw attention to yourself. If you appear to be hiding, it’s usually because you are. To seclude ourselves in this home – or even to join a small community of home-schoolers, would be to put a target on ourselves. Cailean has to go to school and be exceptional in every way because no one would expect that.”

  “That makes sense,” she admitted softly. “I just don’t want him growing up wasting his time with dull classes and getting picked on.”

  “Cailean has all of the time in the world, and he won’t be picked on. He’ll be revered.”

  “Well, I’m not confident that will be great for his psyche either,” she groaned.

  Interrupting their conversation, Cailean came running down the hallway. As he ran, he waved his hands, dripping paint onto the ground behind him. Skidding to a stop in front of them, he beamed up at them. When he saw the horrified look on his mother’s face, he looked behind him at the trail of paint.

  “You let him fingerpaint alone?” Linda accused.

  “It’s water based,” Aldric assured her. Visibly, she breathed a sigh of relief. There was still a hint of annoyance on her face, but it mostly faded as the burden of cleaning became more bearable.

  “I’m sowwy I pilled,” Cailean apologized, looking up at his mother’s disappointed gaze.

  “It’s okay,” she told him. Her tone was apparently enough to convince him, because his eyes lit up once again. Aldric knew better, though, and he could sense the exasperation. After a moment, she added, “Just be careful next time, okay?”

  “Otay.”

  “Cailean,” Aldric spoke up, turning his son’s attention to himself. “Spilled.”

  “Pilled?”

  “Spilled,” Aldric corrected again, carefully annunciating the word.

  “Ssspilled,” Cailean tried again, elongating the first syllable. Aldric accepted that as the best he was going to get, so he smiled and nodded.

  “Come look!” Cailean cheered, bouncing and shaking more paint loose from his fingers. Linda leaned down and cupped her hands around his to trap the stray paint. She picked him up, wrapping an arm around him and resting him on her hip so she was able to maintain her grasp on his hands.

  “Where?” She asked, forcing a bit of eagerness into her voice. Cailean tried to free his hand to point, but when she wouldn’t let go, he averted his gaze toward the kitchen. Carrying him, Linda followed his gaze and Aldric stayed close behind her.

  As he stepped into the kitchen, Aldric found the tile coated with a variety of colors. At first, it looked like a complete mess of disconnected drops of paint. Examining more closely, he found a hint of truth to that, but there was something more impressive as well. Cailean had spilled drops of paint around the floor and imprecisely misplaced certain colors, but as Aldric examined, he saw that his son had been mixing colors. He’d only been provided primary colors with which to paint, but there was a full pallet spread out along the floor. Multiple shades of grays and browns had been created as Cailean had clearly been searching for the perfect one.

  Finally, Aldric’s gaze fell to the painting in the center of the mess. Still drying, the edges of the figure dripped slowly. Still, the drawing was very distinct. To the best of his ability, Cailean had painted a wolf. Though it was mostly just a grey blob with four legs, Aldric could see the lightest of grays used for eyes and green for surrounding trees.

  “What is it?” Aldric asked with enthusiasm, covering for his wife – who was staring at the floor with horror.

  “I drawed my fwend,” Cailean cheered.

  “You drew your friend?” Aldric repeated, affirming that he had been listening while reinforcing the proper pronunciation of the words.

  “Yup!”

  “Well, since you used paint,” Aldric said slowly.

  “Painted!” Cailean corrected with joy.

  “It looks incredible,” Aldric complimented. “Now let’s clean up after ourselves so Mommy doesn’t have to, huh?”

  “Yeah,” Cailean agreed. As Linda put him down, he scooped some of the paint up into his hand and ran toward the sink.

  “Don’t worry,” Aldric comforted, kissing Linda on the cheek and patting her back. “We’ll handle it.

  Present

  Eight Days until the Full Moon

  Cailean

  With his eyes drooping, Cailean tried to focus as his teacher explained a basic equation which he’d written on the board. Normally, even when the teacher was covering something Cailean had learned years ago, he was able to stay awake and at least pretend to focus. For some reason, though, the past week had been incredibly difficult for him. Regardless of how much he slept, he still found himself drifting off in class.

  Checking the clock, he saw that there were still twenty more minutes before lunch. Groaning quietly to himself, Cailean slid down in his chair and turned his attention back to the board. The students around him scribbled furiously, copying anything written on the board. Cailean glanced down at his blank notepad, wondering if he should be writing something to keep appearances up. He struggled to even feign interest, though, as he was assaulted with redundant information.

  As his eyes grew heavy again, Cailean shook his head in attempt to break himself from the encroaching exhaustion.

  “Cailean,” the teacher turned toward him impatiently. “Would you like to tell the class the next step?”

  “Four,” Cailean muttered absently. The kids around him laughed, and the teacher scowled.

  “Please pay attention, Mr. Phoenix,” the teacher sighed.

  “Divide both sides by two, subtract seven, multiply by four. X is four. I’ll try to slow down for you next time,” Cailean groaned. The room fell silent as a few of the other students checked his math. The teacher scowled, but he just turned back toward the board. Clearly, he had been hoping to catch Cailean off guard with his question, but he’d only managed to make himself look like a fool. Cailean was just grateful that he knew when to accept defeat rather than start an argument.

  The rest of the class droned on as the teacher ran through a few dozen more basic algebra problems. Maybe it was just because it was the first week, but Cailean had been under the impression that the teachers were supposed to teach, not just demonstrate examples.

  Finally, the bell rang to dismiss the class to lunch. Cailean clenched his teeth as the sound reverberated in his ears. The bells in elementary school hadn’t been nearly as loud as those, and he couldn’t help but wonder why they increased the volume so drastically. The classes weren’t particularly louder, and the students or teachers shouldn’t have been any harder of hearing.

  Shrugging it off, Cailean stood and pushed toward the door, eager to get out of the classroom. When he stepped into the hallway, it was nearly empty. Walking down the hall, he navigated toward Brooke’s class. Typically, he’d wait for her and they would walk to lunch together. Cailean was finally beginning to gain an understanding of the layout of the school, though, so he was able to find his way to her room.

  “Wow, you’re fast,” Brooke greeted as she separated herself from the mob of students pouring through the
door. Cailean smiled confidently, but he didn’t respond. Silently, he turned and walked toward the lunchroom. After jogging a few steps to catch up, Brooke kept pace.

  “How was class?” She asked, clearly trying to make conversation. Cailean appreciated that she liked spending time with him, but he didn’t understand why she felt the need to talk the entire time. Silence had never been a problem for him.

  “I fell asleep, but the teacher couldn’t get me in trouble because I knew the answer to the question,” Cailean laughed.

  “Only the first week and you’re falling asleep in class?” Brooke teased.

  “What? All the cool kids were sleeping,” Cailean replied defensively.

  “Oh? So there were more than just you?”

  “No,” Cailean laughed. Brooke smiled, looking down as they walked. Cailean assumed it was wishful thinking, but as she turned her face, he was sure he noticed a hint of red in her cheek before it was covered by her black hair.

  Watching her and searching for any sign of that potential blush, Cailean stopped paying attention to where he was going. Suddenly, she stopped moving and Cailean froze. Turning his eyes forward, he saw that they already stood in the lunch line. With his mind no longer completely focused on her, he was assaulted by the smells of hundreds of ingredients throughout the room. Somehow, he felt as though he could smell each student’s food independently, and every individual stimulus was recognizable. Overwhelmed, Cailean didn’t move forward with the line. His head darting around the room, he tried to locate the source of each smell. Scents of tomato, oregano, cumin, paprika, cheese, potatoes, chicken, and more than a reasonable amount of grease surrounded him.

  “Cailean,” Brooke prompted, snapping him away from the olfactory assault. “Are you alright?”

  The concern on her face filled Cailean with a strange mixture of emotions. While he wanted to wipe the worry away, he was also honored that she felt it. It meant that she cared for him, which was exciting.