Strongest Among the Heavens
Chapter 236: Caretaker

Chapter 236: Caretaker

Dasha’s birth—his survival—was the worst day in their lives. He had always known that. The fevour and joy that other parents took care of their children with was never seen in his parents. Their smiles were weak. They came late when he was supposed to be picked up for daycare. Everything revolving around him was half-assed.

They didn’t hate him. They just didn’t want him. But that wasn’t why he forgot this memory. It wasn’t due to his age or because his parents also wanted to forget it. It was a memory that naturally seeped into his brain. An event that kicked off everything. He was sitting by his lonesome in his new bed.

Five days passed.

No one talked to him save for his caretaker. She was nice. Everyone else was not. The older boys were mean and tall while the older girls hit people while laughing. The two sides were very divided and disrespectful. Everyone that was young or between them was forced to be their agents. Dasha remembered being told by the oldest boy to sneak into the girl’s section and dump a bucket of water onto one of them.

Dasha ignored the oldest boy. In return, he received a smack to the back of his head. It was his first time being hit. Dasha found the sensation to be peculiar. As he sat and mulled over the pain from the previous day, a shadow came over him.

"Dasha Pang, yes? My name is Dr. Ramsey. Nice to meet you." Dasha looked up. This man was smiling but he felt nothing in his smile.

"Hello."

Dr. Ramsey smiled. He was young with shoulder-length brown hair and crinkles at the edges of his eyes. "I’m here to conduct a study on bullying. Could you help me?"

Dasha nodded. Bullying, yes, that was a word that often echoed through the halls.

"Tell me everything."

So he did. Dr. Ramsey nodded, smiled, and departed after giving his thanks. Over the course of the week, Dasha would often see the young doctor in the shadows. Watching. Writing. Smiling. But never interfering. Two days later, after the oldest boy picked a girl up and slammed her into the ground, Dasha went up to him and asked, "Aren’t you going to stop them?"

"Why should I?"

They were outside. No one could hear so Dasha admitted, "I don’t know."

"See? Watch and listen. Maybe you’ll learn something." Dr. Ramsey patted at the bench and Dasha promptly sat down. The two watched the one-sided fight and the way the oldest boy kicked the girl till she was screaming. "That’s the world you live in. Physical strength prevails over all. Why? Because children are simple. They see something working and they keep doing it. It’s human." Dr. Ramsey smiled. "You asked me to stop them. Why not ask the caretaker to do that?"

"Because she doesn’t care. She’s always turning a blind eye."

"Good eye."

"She is also sleeping with the oldest boy."

"Sleeping...? Sleeping in the same bed or..."

"Sexual intercourse. The sounds are obvious during the night and the sweat accumulated is noticeable.’

"Oh? Mm, I didn’t notice that." Dr. Ramsey jotted it down. "A fourteen year old who has become drunk on power...makes sense. His assertive behaviour facilitates others, including the way that they pretend to be kind when the caretaker is around. I see, I see. The caretaker still wants to maintain her motherly image."

Dr. Ramsey didn’t care one bit. He didn’t ask how Dasha was doing. He never considered helping the children either. He was obsessed with the concept of strength and the dynamics between the children.

Dasha was interested why he was the way he was and asked him questions. The doctor answered with full enthusiasm.

"You see that? The caretaker does not possess physical strength yet she holds the most power here. Do you know why? It is because even strength is held up by a foundation. By becoming that foundation, the caretaker transcends physical strength. She could slap the oldest boy once and he would crumple like a baby."

"Understanding and knowing are aspects that drive humans such as myself. For children, for people at this stage of life with no job or worries of finance, it is comfort they seek above all else. Comfort from friends. Comfort from talent. Comfort from parents. Comfort from judgment of intelligence."

"These children are just that—children. But researching them and their development does give us insight."

At the end of the week, Dr. Ramsey was gone. The last thing he ever said was, "Strength comes in many forms. If you want to live in his world, then you have to gain whatever strength that is necessary. Goodbye, Dasha. I hope to see you again."

Dasha never did.

Three weeks later, Dasha returned home. He saw a truck outside their house. He approached the basement door and knocked. The door opened to see his father, who blinked and stared down at him. He didn’t understand. He shouldn’t be here.

"Dasha...? How are you...?"

Dr. Ramsey said strength was necessary to survive. He said children desired comfort. He was correct on both fronts. So he decided to seize both on his own accord. During dinner, he cutely offered a basket of belladonna berries and unripe mulberries to everyone. At night, he fiddled with the stoves, water heaters, and fireplace, and swiped the caretaker’s wallet. No one followed. In the morning, he arrived at his parents’ doorsteps.

His mother appeared at the door and gasped. "D-Dasha...?" Trembling, she knelt down to him. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wrapped her arms around him. "I’m so sorry! I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m a terrible mother! I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t...! Dasha! Dada! My darling! My treasure!"

They took him back in. A week later, Dasha was sitting at the back of his father’s car, playing with a Rubik’s cube. They were going to the other side of the country, from Alberta to Ontario. He looked out the window and watched the frontage road. Dasha was comfortable again.