Hero had sprinted back from Sam’s room that day, an odd mixture of feelings making his head swirl. He technically had been seen twice now and had even talked to Sam outright - promising to come back. It went against everything he was taught to do, but in some ways it went against everything he had been told about humans. Not all of them were blood-thirsty beings set on capturing and keeping Borrowers. 

Hero counted his lucky stars that both of the humans he encountered seemed to be the nice kind that he hoped existed. There was the nagging sickness, however, that sat just above his diaphragm. What if they told someone? What if the old lady forgot and started asking the daughter questions about where the tiny person went? What if the boy wanted him to come back that day and would tell anyway? 

Hero shook his head and clapped his hands on his cheeks. He had to calm himself down before entering his home. Since it was midday, his family was out working on inventorying and helping a new family move into one of the lower floors. A part wanted to help the new family and make an appearance, but the encounter left him shaking and rattled.

Instead, he decided to clean their home – specifically his room. He used the bundle of feathers as a broom and swept all of their floors and used a fragment of rag for dusting. He made sure the left-over doll dishes were washed and even spent time making some new utensils out of their tin foil collection. Maybe the new family would need some things to get started.

~~~~~^*^*^~~~~~

Hero listened at dinner, contributing when he could to the conversation. The new family was invited up and consisted of two very talkative girls around the age of Hero’s oldest brother, Atlas; and it was clear Atlas was interested in talking to them a lot. He offered to show them the place and some of the safer places to borrow – to which the girls agreed.

“Thanks again for helping us find a decent place. We were going to a different spot, but two hours there was way too long,” said the one with slightly red-orange hair and freckles. She took a drink from one of the cups made from a pen cap.

“Oh? Why’s that?” asked Cali. This time, the other one answered while smaller, pointed features and glasses on her eyes.

“Well… they must’ve just moved in too, but it sounded like a small child crying; and that’s not really the best when it comes to moving in. I’m sure there are a lot of borrowings, but…”

“It’s not worth the chance,” finished the red head.

This peaked Hero’s interest. A kid crying? Was it because they were lonely? He wondered silently why the child was crying and how old they might be. Surely they couldn’t be older than Sam, the boy he encountered earlier that day. The curious hero in the making offered to help them bring back some of the supplies his parents gifted to get them started – his true motive being to get a better look at the crying child.

After he and his brothers, Atlas and Tiron, escorted the two girls, Iris and Relle, back to their place. They insisted they could manage, but Atlas made some sorry excuse so he could talk to them longer and Tiron wanted to go see one of his friends on a lower level. Hero hoped he wouldn’t be asked why he wanted to tag along so he could slip by the walls of the newcomer’s apartment.

It was easy enough to do. While Atlas talked and Tiron made his way through the halls, Hero slipped into the hallway and walked along the well dusted beams by the electrical cords until he reached one of the outlets. He stepped up the edge, hearing the faint hum of electricity from the cords beside him, and strained his ears to listen beyond the walls.

Nothing at the moment. Did he dare go out now? Hero thought about where he was in the apartment. His mental map of the area confirmed that this place used to be vacant – so knowing the schedule enough to step out was a fool’s errand.

Instead, the Borrower shimmied up one of the lines up to the ceiling tiles, running along the edges of the support beams until he reached an observation place near one of the loose pieces of trim. He hoped, as he ran, that Atlas wouldn’t go looing for him immediately. Hero knelt down, unhooked the latch, and let it slide a few centimeters so he could look down.

The area looked newly moved into. There were still stacked boxes like in the old woman’s apartment, but these had things piling out of them and weren’t sealed like hers. There was a light on in the main living area and dishes still on the table.

He also noticed a woman sitting slightly slumped on the couch. It took him a moment to catch a glimpse of a tussle of light brown-blonde hair and a head resting on the woman’s shoulder. This must be the kid. Hero could see the kid was a little girl and she had her thumb in her mouth as she slept on who Hero suspected was the mother.

Overall, they looked peaceful. Hero couldn’t help but think about his younger sister Winnie and how his mom held her when she was having a hard time with her teeth. Is that what’s going on? No, she looks older.

It wasn’t much to go on, but Hero had his next mission in sight. Hopefully, this one he wouldn’t have to be seen to make a difference.

~~~~~^*^*^~~~~~

The next day, Hero gathered up his hook, line, razor, and all of his other essentials into his bag. The nagging fear of Sam letting it slip that he knew about Hero tugged at him; and he would have to face him and go back. For now, however, Hero needed to see what this new family was like.

He made his way back through the passages, greeting some of the other Borrowers as he went, before grabbing the line and belaying back to the ceiling where he was the night before. The latch for the trim at the observation space was still secure, but Hero could smell fresh paint wafting through the crevasse. That wasn’t a good sign.

He laid his hand on his pin and approached with caution. No glue traps. No fingerprints in paint. No tampering of the line. Even with all of these things, he didn’t trust it. His father, Casper, and his mother, Prim, had warned that humans notice when something they’ve done recently is undone. Paint was one of those things. If there was a line where there wasn’t before, the new occupants might pull the trim up and notice their place.

So, Hero elected to go to a different room. He walked the halls, having to jump from one beam to another because of some rogue pipes, and rounded the next corner; which is when he heard it.

Crying.

It was quiet, but unmistakable and just loud enough to make a pit form in his middle. The young Borrower crouched near the ceiling fan outlet, the other observation post, and peered down into the room.

Below, he could see a small bookshelf and a bed just barely a foot off of the ground – perfect for a small child. Boxes big and small littered the ground and, thankfully, the room hadn’t been painted yet. Then, just beside the bed and with her back to the bookshelf, Hero spotted the little girl from the night before.

She was sitting and clutching a baby doll to her chest whimpering and crying quietly to herself. She was wearing a pretty little dress with sunflowers on it and her hair was in pigtails that were on the top of her head. Also, from what Hero could tell, there was a massive red stain down the front of the dress. Where the mother was, he didn’t know. What he did know was this would not stand.

But what could he do? The little girl was obviously upset and probably needed comfort. A deadly thought crossed his mind. How quick is she? If I went down there, would she make a grab for me? Little kids like grabbing things. At least Winnie does.

Hero watched the girl wipe her nose with the back of her hand, but also noticed the tissue box on top of the bookshelf. There. That’s something I can do.

Hero jogged around to the nearest wall joist and belayed down the next line to reach the floor. The descent was quick as was Hero’s heartrate. I’m just going out there for a second. I’ll climb the bookshelf and get her a tissue. It’ll be alright. There was an outlet not far away and he had to force it open, but soon enough he was running silently along the baseboard toward the bookshelf.

The little girl, still sitting nearby sniffling, didn’t notice Hero swing his hook or that he was climbing only a few feet from her head. From above, she didn’t seem that big; however, being next to her was another matter entirely. Hero’s instincts screamed in protest for him to run backwards, the internal debate of what he was doing raging in his mind as he, hand over fist, climbed to the top.

Slightly out of breath, the aspiring hero took a moment to make sure the mother wasn’t going to burst through the door when he was in mid-action. Nothing. It took a few tries, but he managed to pull himself up onto the top of the box and began wrangling the tissue free. It was always easier with someone pulling the other end of the tissue at the same time, but there was no one to help here.

It took a good deal of heaving, but Hero finally managed to pull it free. A quick peak over the edge revealed the top of the little girl’s head. Perfect. Hero pulled his prize to the side and draped it over until it gracefully drifted down to the ground like an autumn leaf.

He listened as there was a single, distinct sniffle and a slight sound of surprise. There was the rustling of the girl’s chubby fingers grasping onto the tissue paper and the crinkling that followed seemed to Hero that she was using it.

What Hero expected was that she would feel better and perhaps continue playing with her doll. What he didn’t anticipate was the little girl getting curious and letting that override her tears. Hero had backed away from the edge toward his line feeling pleased with himself when a shadow appeared behind him.

Just like before, he felt every hair stand on end and every nerve scream to flee as he suddenly saw two glossy golden eyes peering directly at eye-level with him. Instead of staring curiously or asking him questions, the little girl let out a high-pitched whine and began backing up with more tears than ever filling her eyes. She hugged the doll closer to her chest and took a few steps backwards.

This was unexpected to say the least. What is she doing? She’s crying harder. Is she… scared of me? That simply would not do.

Hero wasn’t happy about being seen yet again by a child, but he couldn’t stand the thought of such a sweet looking child being upset because of him. Fighting his instincts to run, he instead smiled and took one hesitant step forward.

“Hey, hey it’s okay,” he said soothingly, eyes darting to the door to make sure the mother didn’t come into the room without him knowing about it. “Don’t… don’t cry. I mean, it’s okay to cry if you’re upset. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m… not going to hurt you.”