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narrans · 5 days

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My Borrowed Son | 17 | Foolishness

Chapter Seventeen | Foolishness

Kers couldn’t believe he had been so foolish!

Stupid!

He hadn’t realized the kid was in the house and wanted a chance to check in on him and make sure he was alright. They were in the other room having dinner at one point, so he stepped away to go and retrieve some dinner leftovers and crumbs from the kitchen.

The television was on.

It was part of their pattern!

Dinner.

A bit of television.

Parker would go and get something called “homework” done, which was a rare occasion, and then he would go to bed.

Foolishness was what guided the Borrower to act.

The television was on and, like a fool, Kers assumed that Parker and his “mom” were watching a bit of the show together because she had stepped into the other room and turned on the television. Parker was usually never up this late doing homework, and so Kers had dared to venture out of the walls and up to the dollhouse that was called “Parker’s Place.”

It wasn’t the first time he was going to go up to the dollhouse. When Parker first was given this place, Kers made sure he could get in and out in case he needed to rescue the Borrower boy. There would have been nothing worse if Parker was moved from the open and into a plexiglass cage where Kers couldn’t get him out.

All was going smoothly after Kers borrowed his fill from the pantry. He walked through the darkness of the walls with ease to the old office room, picking the pieces of meat from his teeth, and approached the electrical outlet.

Only now when he pressed against the edge did he notice the electrical cover was a tad tight. It was a bit odd, but he hadn’t been here on the ground floor in a while to check on the boy. Without a second thought, Kers removed a rusty drill bit he kept as a tool on his side and unscrewed the piece from behind, accidentally breaking part of the screw off as he tapped on the end to knock the contraption loose from the wall.

Everything came loose after a few good nudges with his shoulder and then, after a quick check, Kers slipped out of the walls and into the room. The dollhouse loomed up on the desk and made the Borrower shiver. Seeing it high above was giving him vertigo like a standard human room. It made Parker feel more human than Borrower.

Maybe, in a way, he was.

Parker was being raised by a human. Parker had human friends if Kers understood what he overheard during the day. The boy might not even have proper Borrower instincts for all Kers knew, which would but Parker in danger if Kers were to try and bring him safely into the walls to live as a true Borrower.

Too many decisions.

Too little time.

Had he made the right decision all those years ago when he didn’t take Parker? Was it possibly too late for this boy to live a “normal” life meant for someone of his kind? He couldn’t have taken the child at the time because he didn’t have any supplies and it would have been dangerous for him and for Parker. Now that he could take Parker, he felt reluctant to.

What was the right decision?

Kers sighed and cautiously tiptoed across the floor toward the desk, unclipping the hook on his belt when spotted a line right by the edge of the table. It made the Borrower turn his head curiously and smile to himself.

He suspected this was not the work of Amanda, the “mom” of the house.

Maybe Parker’s more Borrower than he knows.

Kers checked the line, noting its secure hold on the desk as well as the type of line that was chosen. Both were good quality, even by his standards. There was no fraying on the line. There were incremental knots in case of hand slippage. There was even a loop at the bottom to hoist up items.

If Kers didn’t know better, he would have suspected that Parker’s upbringing was entirely done by Borrowers. He decided to admire the child’s work later, however, and set down the rope before preparing to ascend the line.

Taking a quick breath, Kers shimmied up the line and hoisted himself up onto the desk, pausing only once to catch his breath and readjust his foothold. The Borrower rolled onto his back and then back onto his front before darting toward the side of the house for cover.

Halfway there, Kers’ blood ran cold and his instinct had him freezing like a statue. Completely motionless like a figurine on a shelf, Kers’ eyes were drawn up to the Borrower child’s window and he saw immediately that the lights were on.

No. What? Why?

He’s supposed to be watching a movie with his “mom.”

He’s not supposed to be here on the desk in his dollhouse!

The feeling was tangible in the air, an anticipation for an inevitable drop. Kers was about to turn back toward the line, but he was seconds too late to move stealthily. The door at the far end of the room opened in slow motion. Kers felt his heart skipping every other beat. The light in the room flooded in, pouring itself into the shadows and illuminating the secrets of the room – including him!

Kers had to act fast, and there was no chance to be quiet about it. He spun around and dropped down Parker’s secured line, hands flying down the line and barely catching the knots to slow his dissent. The fearful Borrower was sure he heard something pop as he hit the ground but swallowed his yelp of pain as he practically threw himself into the wall and pulled the electrical cover behind him.

Kers couldn’t believe he had been so foolish!

Stupid!

It wasn’t until he managed to hobble back to his place in the walls and stumble into his hammock that he realized that his rusty drill bit had fallen from his side pack.

Curses! I hope that kid didn’t find that. It’s only going to cause him more problems.

Kers stared up at the endless abyss above him that undoubtedly led to the human ceiling. The hammock swayed under him back and forth, daring to put him to sleep. The exhaustion from the adrenaline rush was enough to put him under, but Kers couldn’t worry about that now.

He forced himself up and set an alarm for the next day to resume his watch over Parker and Amanda, the child’s so-called “mom.”

The pattern had changed, and Kers needed to know where the deviations were going to be if he was going to successfully keep an eye on the Borrower child.

If the kid found the drill bit, questions might ensue; and, if that happened, Parker might act rashly depending on Amanda’s responses.

For the kid’s sake, Kers hoped those questions wouldn’t come. Parker seemed happy in his life. Regardless of how he should live, which was as a Borrower and not as a human child, it needed to be Parker’s decision; and forcing it would possibly turn Parker away from a Borrower’s life.

Though prepared at any moment to take the child under his wing, Kers resigned himself to remain passive.

He could only hope it was still the right decision and that his drill bit didn’t interfere with things to come.

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

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narrans · 6 days

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My Borrowed Son | 16 | Friends and Curiosities

Chapter Sixteen | Friends and Curiosities

Parker couldn’t believe it. Within such a short amount of time, he suddenly had a dozen followers and friends on his page.

Sure, he didn’t know them personally, but everyone was welcoming and polite – two things he was eager to report to his mom when she expressed concern. The miniscule boy also made sure his mom knew he was being safe, not giving out too much personal information, and that the topic of his condition hadn’t even been brought up.

One person commented on his profile picture being interesting, which was a picture of Parker standing in front of his computer screen, but he just explained it was a background and that he wanted to showcase the platform he was publishing on. Karl was the kid’s name, and evidently he and Parker were the same age.

All in all, Parker was pleased with his interactions and the people he was meeting. Lots of them had advice and things for him to check out, and he liked all of the things he was seeing.

There were sketches of space and vast mountains as well as the everyday interactions. There were hundreds of stories from writers just like him.

It felt nice. It felt like some kind of community with people supporting and helping one another. A sense of satisfaction filled the young teen every time he checked his notifications and saw he was getting the chance to meet someone new.

“Just look here, mom,” said Parker eagerly as he showed his mom the latest post he made. “It has almost fifteen likes!” He looked up into his mom’s features and saw her beaming with pride.

“That’s so great, Parker,” she complemented. “Are you going to post your latest story from Mr. Tamplin’s class?”

“I… think so. I don’t know yet though. It doesn’t feel done,” he replied, feeling his cheeks getting warm. The latest story he came up with for Mr. Tamplin’s class was a fiction fantasy story about a sprite named Tal’el. It essentially was his backstory for the Dungeons and Dragons campaign he and his friends started.

Basically, he was a small fairy-like person who was a poison master for his people until he decided he wanted to go out adventuring and exploring. The Dungeon Game Master said it was fine if he played a smaller character, thankfully not questioning why he would want to do such a thing and found a special class for him to play as.

The story actually won a young adult author award for his class and Parker had Mr. Tamplin to thank since it was he who tutored him through his writing slumps. He was now refining it for his literature class.

“Well, don’t be scared to post it sweetie. You’re such a great writer and can do whatever you set your mind to,” encouraged his mom. “Now before you get sucked into checking your notifications, finish your homework and get ready for bed. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Yes, momma,” Parker replied, rolling his screen back into place in the main area. The structure walls rumbled as his mom closed the outside walls to his home. It was hard to believe it had been a whole month since he “moved in” to this new space.

Parker loved it, in a weird way.

Not to sound ungrateful, but having his own space to roam around, especially in a space that felt suited to him, made him feel just a little bit normal. He liked that he was usually at eye-level with his mom instead of having her loom over him. Just the thought made him shudder involuntarily, and he wasn’t sure why.

It made him feel guilty every time the sensation seized him.

But, now was not the time to dwell on that. It was time for bed.

Parker walked into his room and rummaged through his dresser to find his oversized space t-shirt and elastic band sleep shorts. Then, he went back to the computer and finished submitting his assignments. The words filled the page and Parker hoped that his paper on the evolution of technology was going to be good enough to get him the grade he needed.

Parker’s other assignments were a breeze. Math was simple enough and the biology project about documenting the growth of plants was going smoothly. It was his other project, his story for his literature course, that he was worried about. It was his same story that he was using for his channel, but it was more a mild fear of rejection and lack of perfection.

His online friends liked it, but would his teacher? His followers?

Parker sighed and leaned against the wall before slinking down further into the chair. His eyes focused on the blinking line in front of him as he stared at the end of the fifth chapter he had been editing. Something about this story felt particularly personal, but Parker remembered hearing once about how writers put more of themselves than they’re aware of when they’re making characters and stories.

Perhaps this was just part of that feeling?

The teen sighed and stretched when, suddenly, his lights flickered up above him.

Confusion injected itself into his mind as he stared at the wired lights on the ceiling. His eyes flicked over to the wall switch.

Perhaps just a fluke?

The notion was dismissed when the lights flickered two more times, all of his lights dimming and glowing systematically.

Something raised the hair on the back of Parker’s neck. He felt like he was on pins and needles, the anticipation of a drop while suspended in mid-air. Cautiously, the curious teen stood up and walked over to the switch, examining it closely.

It was still up and wasn’t jiggling or loose.

The lights flickered again.

It felt like he was in a spooky movie, of which Parker had only ever seen one in his life along with a couple of older “thrillers” like Alien and Jaws. Even those movies were censored because his mom didn’t want him to get too spooked.

Was there something wrong with the plug?

Parker glanced at the window at the back by the stairs and, just for a moment, he could have sworn he saw something.

It looked like the quick flick of a shadow.

It was quick and Parker wasn’t even sure if he knew what he saw. He did just step out of his room after all, and he had been staring at his computer screen, which he knew sometimes made shadows appear when there weren’t any.

He held deathly still, his entire body locking up like a perfect figurine. His body fell naturally into the position as he slowly crouched and laid his hand against the floor, as if he could detect any trembling or motion.

He didn’t get a chance to investigate for long though. Before he could make his way to the stairs in his crouched position, there was a knock on the table that made Parker nearly jump out of his skin.

“Parker? Are you going to bed soon?” Parker’s entire body shivered as he pushed himself upright and heaved in a few deep breaths. Every nerve in his body felt electrified. While his heart continued to thrum rapidly, he cleared his throat and called over his shoulder to his mom as the sides of the walls began to open.

“Y-y-yeah, mom. I’m ready for bed,” said Parker. He glanced up at the lights stayed on without the slightest hint of a flicker. The walls opened fully and, instantly, Parker saw his mom’s brow furrow quizzically.

“Everything okay? You look a bit pale,” she said. The maternal instinct in Amanda kicked in and she reached forward and pressed the tip of her finger against Parker’s forehead. He shied away from it, which was typical teenage behavior, but something else felt off about Parker that Amanda couldn’t quite place.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine. I just…” Parker stopped short. It felt like something physically squirmed in his mind, preventing him from saying something about the shadow and the lights. He shook the notion loose, confused as to why this instinct flared up in him, and proceeded with his thought. “I just saw the lights flicker and got spooked.”

“Oh?” Amanda replied as she glanced over and looked down at the power strip that fed electricity into Parker’s Place. Nothing looked off about it to her, but she still knelt and glanced around the ground.

Still nothing.

“Well,” she sighed as she stood and walked back over to the front of Parker’s tiny home. “I don’t see anything. It looks like it’s all plugged in, but we’ll check on it tomorrow. Okay? For now, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes, momma,” replied Parker as he walked up to the edge and accepted the kiss on his torso that his mom gave him. With that, Amanda smiled and watched as Parker curled under the blankets, forming an almost imperceptible lump in the bed. “Goodnight momma. I love you.”

“I love you too, Parker. Sweet dreams my love.” Amanda closed the walls and secured them tightly before tiptoeing out of the room and to her own room to turn in for the night.

Just in the other room, Parker laid there with his heart still fluttering nervously. Everything in him was still on edge, and the curiosity of what was going on with his lights was really bothering him. Parker enjoyed a good mystery or puzzle, but he generally liked ones he could solve.

This one wasn’t solved yet.

For what felt like a couple of hours, Parker tossed and turned in his bed as a mixture of homework assignments and curiosities about the power outlet swirled like a mist in his mind. The more the young teen thought, the more it annoyed him that he didn’t have the answers.

He had had enough.

Parker pushed himself up and decided to go and check out the source of the flickering lights. If it was a cable going bad or possibly the breaker being loose, he needed to get a new one as soon as possible. It would be terrible if he was in class and his power went out. His mom said they would do it in the morning, but Parker knew himself; and he knew he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t at least go and see it for himself.

He couldn’t afford to not check it out with his presentation tomorrow.

The teen stepped noiselessly through his house and exited the front door. As he walked around, he noticed a few things that just seemed, in a word, natural.

Sound was amplified. The darkness in the corners of the room seemed brighter. He could feel every tremble in the desk from his footsteps.

As he made it outside, a choice presented itself to him. For a moment, he considered going down the climbing line he installed himself on the backside of the desk.

But he knew if he slipped on the rope and got hurt, which he never did, his mom would make him take down the line.

He decided to risk it.

It was late. She was asleep. Parker was as sure footed as a goat and knew he would be fine all the way down. The temptation was also too great for the teen to resist. Plus, it would be a lot faster.

There was something about the experience that was, in a word, liberating. The free fall. The catch. The feel of the rope in between his fingers.

It felt natural.

The urge to climb and fall and hide never failed to fascinate parker. Whether it was something his condition genetically programmed him to do so or if it was some personality trait he possessed, he didn’t know.

What he did know was the sensation was addictive and he was itching for a good climb.

Parker snagged the line in between his fingers and leaned over the edge of the desk. There was a mild sense of vertigo that swelled inside him, but he loved it. The weightlessness seized him as he let himself slip over the edge, hands and feet firmly in place and secured on the line.

The line burned against the teen’s palms and against his legs as he quickly descended. It felt like something a secret agent would do, and it felt epic.

The moment Parker’s feet hit the ground, he felt himself instinctually look around and crouch low. Silently, he stepped across the planks of wood that constructed the floor and walked toward the power strip that was only a few feet away. The whole thing was four times Parker’s size, but he navigated through the wires with ease.

His hands worked quickly to check the buttons and reset panels, and the teen could find nothing wrong with any of it.

Perhaps something is up with the electrical cover in the wall? Parker wondered silently. He jumped over the stiff cord that led to the wall and approached the trim on the wall which had small notches in it, so he didn’t need to snag a ladder.

As he approached, Parker noticed something by the very base of the electrical cover that made his hair stand on end.

It was a drill bit.

Flat head.

It was a tad bit rusty, and Parker didn’t recognize it from his mom’s kit that she used to help construct his space. He approached and picked it up, realizing it wasn’t as heavy as he thought it would be. In his hands, it was about twice the size of the drill that his mom used, and he realized he could probably carry it around easy enough; but where did it come from?

I don’t think this is mom’s drill bit. How’d it get here?

Parker glanced up at the electrical cover and felt his heart skip a beat as he noticed the screw for the wall socket was protruding from the wall ever so slightly.

His entire body was shaking now, but he wasn’t sure why.

Had his mom messed with the electrical cover with some old tools that she forgot about?

It didn’t seem like her.

Parker stepped up on the trim, balancing precariously and using the cord to stabilize himself, as he pushed on the very bottom of the electrical cover.

With almost no effort, the piece wiggled free and the screw clattered to the ground. The end looked a lot shorter than the others. He knew because he helped his mom replace the covers a few weeks ago.

The young teen took a few deep breaths to calm himself before he dared to peek inside. Engulfing darkness belonging to the wall consumed his vision. There was something exciting and enticing about the darkness in front of him.

It felt, in a word, familiar.

But why?

Parker felt his head beginning to throb as his mind stirred some fragmented memory, but it was hazy and distant.

What really set the teen on edge, however, was when he dared to push himself up onto the ledge to peer better into the wall and noticed something else that made his insides fill with nervous energy.

There was something that looked like a pencil mark. Two lines with a triangle on top followed by a little check mark on the inside. To Parker, it looked like a kid’s drawing of a house with a check mark inside of it.

Was this something his mom did?

Or was this some kind of construction mark?

What was this?

What did it mean?

The teen stared at the marks and then back to the darkness of the wall. Just like the shadows of the room when he stepped out of his house, the looming abyss of those narrow spaces between the walls didn’t seem very dark. It almost seemed inviting.

There was something about that confined space between the drywall and the studs and exterior boards that made Parker feel like he was back in his space. It was familiar.

But why?

Parker hadn’t realized that he had been learning forward to the point where he was barely hanging onto the edge of the electrical cover and leaning into the walls. It took the sound of his foot skidding against the wood and nearly tumbling headfirst into the space in front of him.

Startled and shaken, Parker pulled himself back out of the entryway into the walls, forced the electrical cover back onto its perch, and hurried back to his room. He was in such a tizzy, the young teen didn’t even realize he had gone straight to the secured line he left and climbed up it in record time, ignoring the staircase mere feet away.

His little feet barely made noise as he scurried back to his room, securing the door and slipping under his covers without so much as a squeak.

Parker’s mind was racing. What was that he just saw? And what was that weird draw he had toward the walls?

Hopefully, his mom would have the answers.

First thing in the morning, he would ask her. She would make everything better, right?

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

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narrans · 16 days

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Hero OC Ask!

Greetings and salutations!

I shan't keep you long my friends. I just wanted to let you know that Hero's OC ask deadline is going to be in one week (April 23). If you have anything you want to ask our friendly neighborhood Hero, send me a message or comment down below.

Thank you all for your amazing support and for all of the love you've shown these characters. It astounds me every time ^.^

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

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narrans · 16 days

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Hiii, long time reader of yours here, first I wanted to say how much I love all ur works, specially a tall and small, that fic is one of my favourites of all time.

I also wanted to ask if u would ever consider continuing your fic One Shot | September Writing Prompts? Its such a good fic and would love to read more of it one day.

Greetings and salutations my friend!

Wow ^.^ Seriously thank you so much! You don't know how much your words mean to me. Absolutely over the moon 😊 thank you.

If you have suggestions for the third book for A Tall and Small Collection, definitely let me know. I'm currently brainstorming some ideas, mostly surrounding Mayzie, but nothing is solidified at the moment.

Also! I have considered it, but I would want to either explore the universe from a different set of perspectives OR go after another month long prompt challenge (which I'm open for suggestions always).

That story is also based on the universe created by Canadiantardis on Archive of Our Own here: https://archive.transformativeworks.org/works/25658740/chapters/62291326

It helped me break out of my shell and started as a Borrower pet (no pun intended) project that inspired me to keep writing in the g/t community.

Like I said, I'm open to suggestions and if you would like to see a full story with this kind of universe or with these characters, I'm open to brainstorm some ideas.

Thank you again for your support and for your comments. They really make my day ^.^

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

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narrans · 16 days

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Hiiii!! Just wanted to pop in and ask a few questions. I loved loved LOVED The Orion's Factotum and I'm loving The Orion's Daughter just as much!! I'm someone who's really interested in constructed languages and fantasy languages, so I was wondering, how did you come up with the language for the Orions? Was it difficult? How developed is it over all? How did you come up with unique words and phrases that flow so well? I love your work!!! 💖

Greetings and salutations my friend!

I apologize for the delay in my response. Things have been a bit chaotic and I'm only now seeing this.

I absolutely LOVE this question and am thrilled you're enjoying The Orion's Daughter and enjoyed The Orion's Factotum.

When it comes to languages, I'm actually developing it currently (as well as another language for another series I hope everyone will enjoy despite the themes and darkness it will undoubtedly bring).

It wasn't difficult to come up with the language as a whole and I have some of the basics for grammar (verb tenses and formal vs. informal speech). I'm using a lot of my background taking Latin for ten years to help influence how I develop the Orion's language.

Perhaps one day I'll break down everything and show the writing style I've chosen for it (still developing symbols and so forth), but that will have to wait for a little while.

If you have any suggestions or prompts for one-shots or even ideas for The Orion's Daughter that you'd like to see, let me know. ^.^ I promise I'll be better about responding to asks in the future.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

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narrans · 16 days

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How would it have gone if Shay was younger (like a little kid) when she accidentally moved to Todd's new home?

Greetings and salutations my friend!

Apologies for the delay in my response. I would have to say if Shay were younger, her brothers and parents wouldn't have let her go outside in the first place. She wouldn't have had the training, skills, or strength to get up into the box she accidentally hitched a ride in and probably wouldn't have the reasoning skills to even approach Todd. If she somehow managed to hitch a ride accidentally when she was a lot younger, she probably would've stayed hidden until something really terrible happened.

Todd, of course, would have the same reaction, but he probably would've kept her secure in a box depending on how old she was. It was Shay's ability to communicate and reason that helped negotiate the interpersonal connection between her and Todd.

Now, let me ask you... what do you think would've happened?

Thank you so much for the ask! I enjoy them always.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

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narrans · 17 days

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My Borrowed Son | 15 | To My Friends...

Chapter Fifteen | To My Friends…

It was a bit of a restless night for Amanda. She knew it would be a challenge but that it was good for both of them at the same time. Not having Parker sleeping within arm’s length was strange. The maternal part of her wanted to make sure he was okay.

What if he needed something?

What if he had a nightmare?

What if he went to get off of the table and slipped on the ladder or rope? Parker was prone to climbing things after all.

Fretting and worrying took its toll on Amanda and, by morning, she found herself blankly staring at her reflection for several unblinking minutes as the water washed away her toothpaste. There were faint dak rings under her eyes, but perhaps that had to do with the other matter of Parker getting older.

He was growing into a fine young man. He was gaining interests and wanting to explore more things. Just the other day, her son asked her about sports as he practiced his swimming in the bathtub and possibly joining this thing called a Dungeons and Dragons campaign that one of his friends, Billie, was hosting.

Amanda remembered D&D when she was growing up, and it didn’t seem all that interesting if she was being honest.

But Parker was his own person. He needed to be able to express himself and be free to explore the things he wanted to but within reason.

The fear in the back of her mind crept up once again. The omnipresent force that constantly loomed over the disguise that was Parker’s “condition” lurked in the shadows and threatened to rear its ugly head every time Amanda wanted to give Parker the freedom he earned.

There was a portion of Amanda that scolded herself for not telling Parker sooner about his so-called “condition” and how he actually came into her life. The other part, the dominant one, hoped she would never have to tell him. To her, it didn’t matter where he came from. He was her son, and she reasoned that not having answers to his existence was worse than providing one lie.

Regardless of her feelings, Amanda knew that she needed to start letting Parker make some of his own decisions when it came to his interests. If it was dangerous, she would intervein. Otherwise, she needed to trust in Parker and reinforce their lessons when needed.

“Hey mom! Good morning!” Amanda turned and glanced down by her feet to see Parker by the bathroom door that she had left open. “Are you finished?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. Sorry. Good morning Parker,” greeted Amanda as she quickly rinsed out her toothbrush and stepped past Parker into the hall. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, I did. You?” grinned Parker.

“I slept well enough,” his mom replied. “It’s Saturday. Do you want cinnamon rolls or eggs?” The look in his eyes said it all – cinnamon rolls. With a quick nod, Amanda headed off toward the kitchen was Parker started his morning routine.

Parker heaved his way up the line he fixed on the side of the sink, despite his mom insisting he use the ladders for everything, and washed his face and brushed his teeth. The newly minted teen stared at his reflection in the mirror and, for the first time in a while, felt like he was a little different.

He knew his hair probably needed a trim, but there was something about his physical body that felt different. There was something about his features that felt like they were changing. His mom had explained that his body would be going through changes as he got older, but today was the first day he actually felt a little different.

Parker decided to table that for another time as he began working on a mental spiel for his mom instead about why he should be able to get a Tumblr account. He went over the talking points in his head.

Selina has an account for her art to better her portfolio and gain a following.

I want to publish some of my writing because I like it and I’m good at it.

I’ll be responsible.

It’ll be another way to make friends.

I know we’ve talked about safety on the internet before, and I promise I’ll be safe.

The more Parker thought, the more he didn’t feel confident in his argument. The teen still wanted to try though. The worst thing that his mom could say was “no,” right?

He shimmied down the line and hurried to the kitchen before he could lose his nerve.

Parker crossed the wooden floor, taking in the heigh of the hallway and the vastness of the living room before walking into the kitchen. After spending the evening in a place designed specifically for someone of his size, looking up toward the ceiling was vertigo inducing. That weird part of him felt, for whatever reason, apprehensive as he approached his mom.

It happened from time to time, but that sensation was something he couldn’t identify.

The sweet smell of baking cinnamon bread wafted through the air and dismissed his concerns as his mom knelt instinctually and helped him up onto the counter.

“So, I was thinking that we should start working on the hot water in your space first so if there are any leaks and spills we can clean it up, dry it off, and not get any decorations and electricity wet. I know we set up the basics yesterday, but I just want to make sure it’s all good before getting everything else in place. What do you think?” asked his mom. A healthy portion of iced cinnamon roll was dished out onto his plate and handed to him.

“Sounds good to me,” replied Parker. “And thanks for making breakfast.” He inhaled the sweet scent and dared to lick a large portion directly off of the top when his mom wasn’t looking.

“You’re welcome sweetie,” Amanda said in response. “Then, if you’re feeling up to it, we hook up the chords and lights so you can be ready to show your friends your new room on your webcam by Monday for class.”

“That… sounds great,” said Parker, his mind thrumming with a slight, growing anxiety as his question continued to prickle the tip of his tongue. Parker winced as he saw his mom looking at him. He didn’t know how she did it, but anytime he had something on his mind, she knew.

“Or… we can do something different,” suggested Amanda. Parker looked up and saw his mom’s intuitive eyes looking at him quizzically.

“No! No, I want to do all of that. It’s going to be a great project,” said Parker hurriedly, his heartrate spiking momentarily. “It’s just… I wanted to ask you for something. Like… a delayed birthday gift?”

The concern in his mom’s brow dissipated into curiosity. She nodded and laid her hand down onto the counter, a signal to Parker that they were going to go sit at the table instead of eating on the kitchen counter. He stepped onto her hand, noting the small blister on her thumb from where she probably accidentally burned it while making breakfast, and let her get settled down at the table before continuing.

“Um… okay… hear me out,” said Parker as the argument he had been practicing in the bathroom and all this morning vaporized immediately.

“Okay,” said his mom with a cautiously amused smile on her face. Parker cleared his throat a few times before it clicked again in his head.

“Um… right. So, I was wondering if I could start my own Tumblr page,” said Parker. His mom’s brow furrowed in confusion, so the teen decided to elaborate. “I was talking with Selina and the others during the party yesterday and Selina said that she had one and was using it to post her art and stuff like that. She said I should put my writing up on there and… I… kind of want to.”

Parker knew this was a big ask. Generally speaking, his mom tried to emphasize that time should be spend off of the computer and not on it. His access to the internet was usually kept under mild monitorization simply because the internet had a lot of things that he wasn’t ready for.

As his mom would say, “The internet is a powerful tool that can be used for good and bad. There are some… different… people on the internet and sometimes the things they put out there are cruel or not for young eyes.”

Parker had always adhered to that and only used his internet searches for academic purposes.

This, he felt, was a good resource for him to utilize.

Amanda, on the other hand, felt herself squirm and pale, and she prayed Parker hadn’t noticed. That website was the same one way back when that she had found a lot of writing about “little people.” A lot of it seemed like fiction and fantasy if not for the fact that her son fit in with the exact categorization of these small beings who lived in walls.

Amanda thought about the conversation she had with herself just this morning about letting Parker have a little more freedom and taking his feelings into consideration. He was expressing interest in publishing and writing. Parker wanted to make more virtual friends because, for better or worse, she had restricted his contact with the outside world.

She had to ask herself the ultimate question.

Was this something that was too dangerous?

Was this something that would harm her son?

Would this thing provide too much information for his mind to handle?

Or, on the other hand, would this prompt the conversation they might need to have about how he came into her life?

Amanda didn’t trust the world with her son, but she trusted him. If he was ready to ask those questions and seek out those answers, she needed to let him to that.

Who knew? Maybe he wouldn’t encounter anything or ask those questions. Maybe this was a change for Amanda to start formulating how to best talk to Parker about why he was the way he was.

Amanda swallowed dryly and looked into Parker’s thoughtful, light brown eyes. He was obviously eagerly awaiting her reply.

“Well, Parker, I think… that you’ve shown a lot of responsibility when using the internet. Obviously, I would like to be able to see the website and look into all of the options, but… I think we could come to some kind of compromise,” decided Amanda.

Parker, absolutely filled with elation, leapt up and cheered.

“Yes! Thank you momma!” he said jubilantly. He threw himself onto her hand and hugged her with all of his might. It reminded Amanda of the little boy he still was.

Once again, she sent a silent prayer that she was doing the right thing.

She suspected she would need to have a conversation with Parker, but not now. Not right after his birthday.

“We’ll get everything set up after we set up your space, deal?”

“Deal!”

~~~^*^*^~~~

The next eight hours were a test of sheer willpower.

The hot water was a trick and a half to get set up and that went double for the electricity, specifically the switches that turned the lights on and off.

The easiest part was, in all reality, decorating. Parker chose easily cleanable floor panels and mostly space themed wallpapers. He did choose to have his bedroom in a Hobbit style theme with greens, browns, and little grass patches which Amanda dug up for him. He also picked out a few gardening beds for him to grow stuff off of his balcony and plenty of wires and charging places for his devices.

His area right off of his bedroom on the second floor was his classroom and study area, hooking up the camera and tablet for class. The first floor was the gaming and hangout area. Finally, the attic was Parker’s not-so-secret tinkering area when he wanted to create and design stuff.

All in all, things were coming together very well and, by the end of the night, Parker was exhausted; but not exhausted enough to deter him from creating his account.

With his mom’s blessing, he quickly filled in his email, birthday, and even uploaded a quick picture he took of himself.

The final thing to determine was the name of his blog, which Parker didn’t realize he needed to do.

What did he want to call his blog? His name was already taken, and he wanted to make sure it sounded genuine and professional if other people were going to see it. He didn’t want to make it something naughty and have his mom find out and revoke this privilege.

He stared at the blinking vertical line on the screen as his hands hovered over the virtual keypads.

Then, it hit him.

The name was already on the place his mom gifted to him added with a little touch into his mind.

Parker’s Place: Welcome to My Little Life

It was suiting, and Parker felt like it represented him in a way that didn’t talk too much about his condition. He was more than some fancy Latin name after all.

The screen popped up and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. Should he make an introductory post? One of his dreams? Did he even have to use that button at the bottom called “tags?”

He decided his first course of action was to send the Tumblr link to Selina, which he did, before electing to make a little introductory post. It was polite after all.

Nerves and excitement starting to make him feel jittery, Parker began typing.

“To my friends... Hey there! My name is Parker and I'm a little new here. I like writing, poetry, tinkering, and I stream games and stuff from time to time. I'm also a bit of a space nerd and I usually have a favorite book every month, but my all time favorite is probably The Hobbit.

“I hope you all like my stuff. I'm just putting it out there to get over my stage fright (fingers crossed).

“Anyway, nice to meet you through the screen. If you have any story suggestions I should read here or cool art I should check out, just let me know!

“Look forward to hearing from all of you out there and, hey, welcome to my little life!

So long!

Parker”

After staring at the post for nearly twenty minutes, Parker decided to pull the trigger. Taking a breath, he pressed the “Post Now” button and hoped for the best.

He didn’t have time to watch and see if anyone noticed or cared about his post. Dinner was ready and it was his turn to pick the movie.

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

Continue

Beginning

23 notes · View notes

narrans · 17 days

Text

Greetings and salutations!

The above blog (Welcome To My Little Life) is an offshoot and interactable platform for Parker Silverstein from My Borrowed Son.

I hope you enjoy it ^.^

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

To my friends...

Hey there! My name is Parker and I'm a little new here. I like writing, poetry, tinkering, and I stream games and stuff from time to time. I'm also a bit of a space nerd and I usually have a favorite book every month, but my all time favorite is probably The Hobbit.

I hope you all like my stuff. I'm just putting it out there to get over my stage fright (fingers crossed).

Anyway, nice to meet you through the screen. If you have any story suggestions I should read here or cool art I should check out, just let me know!

Look forward to hearing from all of you out there and, hey, welcome to my little life!

So long! Parker

44 notes · View notes

narrans · 19 days

Text

My Borrowed Son | 14 | Parker's Place

Chapter Fourteen | Parker’s Place

For the past three years, Parker had been a completely virtual student on a medical conditional pass signed off on by his pediatrician and his mom.

His first day of school was a terrifying one. Parker’s mom had set up a special classroom area with a camera for him to be seen as well as a computer for him to watch the lectures on. Perhaps it was because it was a private school versus a public school, but Parker felt like he was just like any other student.

Mr. William Tamplin was a great teacher and he always made sure everyone was seen and heard if they had questions. He was a curious man with black rimmed glasses that reminded Parker of the ones Clark Kent would wear. He had sandy blond-brown hair, like Parker, but he had pale blue eyes like glacier ice. He was a young teacher, but he knew the answer to everything, even though he usually taught English.

Parker’s other teachers were nice, but they weren’t the same as Mr. Tamplin.

On that first day, Mr. Tamplin had Parker introduce himself and talk a little about what he liked and what he wanted to learn. All of the other teachers had Parker do the same thing as the camera and screen that represented him was shown to the class.

Parker had never seen so many children his age before, and he was both excited and terrified. When he was in Mr. Tamplin’s class, however, he felt safe, especially when it came to questions about why Parker couldn’t come to class. That was another thing Parker liked about Mr. Tamplin. He, unlike the other teachers, didn’t request that Parker explain anything about his condition.

Parker and his mom went over the details in depth every day to make sure Parker didn’t say too much. For whatever reason, Parker’s mom seemed uneasy about Parker sharing the name of his condition and details about it. It was weird, but the small child figured that it was such a rare condition that not much was known about it and that he wouldn’t be able to answer the questions he would receive.

“So, Parker, if anyone asks…”

“I know, mom. I just say that I have a special medical condition that is still being explored. It’s not contagious, but it just makes me a little fragile, so I have to stay put at home until we find a better solution,” recited Parker.

It was the same thing he told everyone in his classes and to his teachers.

There were a few who asked further questions when he was in private group study sessions or if they had free chat time and one of the kids came up and decided to talk to Parker, but Parker’s responses were always the same, and so the topics were changed.

Through his fall and spring of his first year, Parker made several friends. There was Bailey, a black haired girl who loved to draw, and Billie, a kid who couldn’t hold still to save his life. The three of them were fast friends because of their love of the same cartoons and, with Amanda’s permission, the three of them had phone calls and video chats outside of school hours.

Neither of them seemed interested in Parker’s condition and, for them, it was cool having a virtual friend. Sometimes, they even called Parker “the spaceman,” pretending he was in some kind of protected facility that was doing research on Mars or whatever.

In the end, it didn’t matter. They had continued to be friends all through his classes, even as he excelled in nearly all of his subjects and jumped grades. Parker was good at making friends and learned quickly how to socialize without bringing up his special circumstances and condition.

Now, for the first time, he was getting an actual birthday party.

True, it was still virtual for all of his friends to log in, but it was going to be the greatest thing ever!

“Hey, mom? I know it’s a little early, but could I go ahead and log into Discord?” asked Parker as he tapped on the mouse. He was so close, tantalizingly so, to spending a great afternoon with his friends. The mouse danced across the screen over the camera image, highlighting it every time it traced over the icon.

Amanda approached and looked at the camera and its placement in Parker’s room. It looked like everything was set up to avoid showing too much about him and his room. The thought of someone seeing Parker for the size he was felt close – too close, but she wanted to give Parker this birthday.

He was thirteen after all.

She thought of the gifts she had prepared for him and hoped she was doing the right thing with it.

Years passed and now he was officially a teenager.

The time really had gone by so fast.

“Sure,” she replied after a moment. “I don’t see why not. If you have any problems with the program or camera, just let me know. And remember…”

“About my condition and what we talked about. I remember mom. Thanks!” Parker clicked on the camera icon so fast that it made Amanda’s head spin. She carefully tiptoed away and listened as Parker began calling out to his friends.

The moment his mom gave the go-ahead, Parker saw that Billie and Bailey were already online and ready for him. He eagerly entered the “Parker’s Party” channel he created and watched as his friends’ faces flickered onto the screen.

“Hey spaceman!” greeted Billie. He leaned forward so his nose was blown out of proportion. The grin he had on his face was absolutely priceless.

“Sup man! How’ve you been?” asked Parker as he leaned back in his chair and stared at the camera at his friends.

“Hey! What about me?” asked Bailey. She was dressed in a pretty pink dress and folded her arms in a full body pout.

“Hey there to you too Bailey,” Parker said with a wave. “You guys are the first online. Any word from Spencer or Selina?”

“No, not yet.” Billie’s connection garbled his response but cleared up shortly after. “But you know them. Twins dude. They’ll be online together or never.”

“I hear ya on that,” Parker replied. Just then, Spencer and Selina’s icons popped into the chat followed shortly by ten other friends Parker invited.

The chat and the cameras were filled with cheering and kids talking over one another, creating jumbled connections and amusing breaks in conversation. Games began of Among Us, Speed Racer, and a few other odd ones that Parker was able to access on his device.

After games and other discussions of the fun, nerdy things they were watching or reading, they took a break to sing happy birthday and open the cards they all made for Parker. Because of his condition, Parker requested that his friends make cards for him that they could send to him later.

They were all hilarious.

Parker was rolling on the ground laughing, as was everyone else, and they decided to have an impromptu competition for whose card was the best.

Selina won, naturally. Her sketching abilities were unparalleled, and her use of humor was worthy of the Sunday funnies. The image was Parker in a spacesuit hovering over planets with Mars in the background. It looked like he was outside of some big space station and the caption read, “Comet me, bro!” and underneath read, “I wanted to have a space-themed birthday party, but there was no one to planet. Happy Birthday Parker!” What really caught Parker’s eye was the little heart next to Selina’s name.

“Wow, Selina. That one is fantastic,” Parker complemented.

“Awww! Thanks Parker! Thanks guys!” said Selina with a wink. For whatever reason, Parker felt his heart flutter and his insides flip when he was Selina staring directly into the camera right at him. It was like she was right there looking into his eyes. “Only the best for my bestie.”

“What!” Billie roared. “He’s my bestie!”

“Uh, I talked to him first, so he’s my bestie,” retorted Bailey.

“Can’t you all be my besties?” asked Parker, recovering

Hours passed and, eventually, everyone was called away for dinner or some other activity. Parker waved his hand and wished his friends a great day, and all wished him a happy birthday.

Finally, it was just Bailey and Selina left.

“Well, Parker, I hope you had a great birthday,” said Bailey. “And don’t worry! I’ll be sending you my card A.S.A.P!”

“Yeah, same here,” chimed in Selina. The look the two of them gave one another made Parker’s hair stand on end. It was like there was some unspoken rivalry between the two of them that, for one reason or another, involved him. Parker wasn’t sure really what was going on, but he didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

There was that instinct in him to back away slowly and hide under something big and tall, but Parker held his ground and swallowed his apprehension, addressing his friends

“Well, I can’t wait to get them,” said Parker. He stared into the faces of his friends for a little while longer before Bailey’s mom could be heard in the background calling for her. She huffed dramatically and leaned forward.

“You’ll be getting mine first, so message me as soon as you get it, okay? Talk to you soon Parker! Bye!” said Bailey as she disconnected. Parker looked back at Selina, now realizing she was staring right at him. Her cheeks were a little rosy and the light hit her eyes in a way that made Parker’s insides flip.

He swallowed dryly, but Selina spoke first.

“I’ll be sending mine first, but I wanted to ask if it’s okay if I post it on my Tumblr account before I do. I wanted it to just be for you, but it would be good for my portfolio. I’m applying to the Visual Arts program and want to get some traction,” Selina requested. Parker nodded, but a curiosity tugged at his mind.

“Sure, I don’t have a problem with that, but what’s Tumblr?” asked Parker.

“What? I’m surprised you don’t have one for your writing and everything,” Selina replied. “It’s just a place online for you to submit your stories, poetry, art, and all of that stuff. You should totally make one! I’ll be your first follower!”

Parker hadn’t really thought about publishing his scribblings. Mr. Tamplin was always complementary of his work, encouraging him to do more, and his other writing teachers and tutors said he had a gift for the written word.

Maybe it was worth a shot.

At the very least, it would give him a chance to make more friends.

“Sure. I mean, I have to double check with my mom and everything, but I’ll send you the link if I get one. Sound good?”

“Great! Well, I’ll talk to you soon! Bye Parker!”

The connection was cut and, once again, Parker was left alone in his room, his camera being the only one facing him. He stared at the lens and at his own reflection in the shaped glass. He wasn’t sure why, but it made him feel the slightest bit lonely.

Despite having friends and being online with them for hours, it didn’t change the fact that he was still completely and utterly alone.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you.”

Parker turned around to see his mom approaching with a cake with two tiny candles labeled “1” and “3” on top. It was his favorite, a strawberry cake, and he stepped out of his room to the bedside table to greet her.

“Thanks, mom,” smiled Parker as he gazed up at her. She balanced his cake, which was about as big as his torso, on the tips of her fingers as she smiled at him.

“You’re so welcome,” she said, her adoration clearly audible. “Now, you know the rule. Take a big breath and make a wish.”

She held up her phone camera and hit record. Parker took a few deep breaths, unsure of what to wish for, and stared at the melting wax as it dripped down the edge of the candle.

What did he want?

What was his desire?

He had friends and time at school. He had technology and knick knacks as well as all of the books he could possibly want.

The only thing he would really want was to actually go outside and play with his friends, but that wasn’t possible. It was too dangerous for him, as his mother explained on numerous occasions.

Parker knew the wax wasn’t dripping any slower so, without a wish ready and writing himself a rain check, he blew out the candles.

“Yay! Happy birthday, sweetie,” Amanda said as she set Parker’s cake over onto the small table she brought with her. “Now, do you want cake or presents first?” Parker knew the answer already and, leaving his momentary sadness behind, he decided to enjoy the day rather than be brought down.

“Presents please,” he said as he stepped onto his mom’s awaiting hand. His mom’s smile broadened.

“I hoped you would say that. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to start with the biggest one first. Otherwise, the others aren’t going to make sense,” said Amanda. She carefully stood and walked out of the bedroom and toward her office.

Parker leaned forward to look down over the edge of his mom’s hand at the vast distance below him. Something about the height was enticing and thrilling to him. It made his mom anxious anytime he was near the edge, but something inside him said that he could fall and be fine.

“Okay, I really hope you like it, but do not feel pressured into liking it,” said his mom. Parker felt confused as he looked away from the ground and toward the table by the side of the room. Immediately, his mind went blank as he looked at the thing on the table.

It was a miniature house.

It was made of pale blue panels and even had light brown shingles and white trim on the windows and doors. From what Parker could tell, there was nothing on the inside except for a few wrapped presents. It was three stories tall and had a little porch area with a gazebo.

He honestly wasn’t sure what to make of it until his mom asked, “Do… you like it?”

Parker, still unsure, gestured to the front door and his mom carefully set him down. The miniscule boy stepped up onto the porch, noticing how the steps were perfectly set for him. There was a wooden sign on the door that caught his attention immediately, adding to his swirling emotions.

“Parker’s Place”

He reached out and pushed the door open, noting the hinges were just like the ones on the big doors, just smaller.

When he entered the main area, he spotted a set of stairs on the left hand side as well as two entryways leading to two rooms. The rooms themselves were massive, to the point where Parker could run from one side to the other, spin around, and stretch without fear of hitting anything around him.

The outside world shifted as the house spun effortlessly around and the far wall opened up into two separate panels. His mom knelt down and watched him intently as he walked over to the right and into the kitchen. There was a box which had a bit of a hum to it and, when Parker opened it, the air was cold.

Parker, fascinated, turned on his heel and ran into the next room, seeing some old looking wallpaper and several large windows that led to the gazebo.

He needed to see more.

Adrenaline and curiosity fueled him as he sprinted up the stairs, each fitting him perfectly, as he found three new rooms with large windows all around. Still, there was another set of stairs. Parker glanced into the other rooms and found what looked like a miniature bathroom and what could be a bedroom before running upstairs to the top floors. Parker didn’t even mind that he ran past a stack of presents to continue his exploring.

There were two smaller rooms with a narrow entryway to get in, but it was still a massive space.

Now practically at eye-level with his mom, he turned around and looked into her eyes, his words finally manifesting.

“What… is this?”

“It’s a little house made for you,” she replied. Parker spun around in the space, mind still wrapping around the concept.

“For… people like me? But… how? Why?” Something felt odd about this place; like some kind of trap. Parker couldn’t explain the feeling, but something about this place didn’t quite feel right – like he didn’t quite belong there.

“Yes, something along those lines. Do you remember our conversation the other day about how you’re getting older and… things are going to be changing a bit?” asked his mom. Parker nodded vaguely while his mind processed how perfectly everything about this house fit him and why it didn’t feel right.

“Yes, I remember.”

“Well, you’re getting older now and I think it’s time that you had a larger space to call your own,” said Amanda. “It’ll let you gain a little independence and give you a little more freedom and privacy. You can decorate everything how you’d like, and we can set up the hot and cold water and lights together if you want.”

Parker stared around at the vast space.

Except for his room, he had always been surrounded by things that were immense compared to him. His tablet. The books his mom borrowed from the library. The camera he used for class.

Everything was big…

And now it wasn’t.

Parker finally pinpointed the feeling swirling inside him that overrode the sensation of this place feeling like a weird trap.

Normal.

He had always felt normal, but now the world around him felt like it fit him.

“Parker?” His mom’s voice pulled him back to the moment. “Do… you like it? Remember, you can say no. I just tho-”

“I love it.”

Amanda couldn’t be more relieved. She had been holding her breath the entire time Parker explored the dollhouse she purchased online for him. It was a miracle he didn’t find it sooner, but thankfully she had only had it for a few days. Dragging the package through to her office while Parker was in class was her saving grace.

Now, seeing the smile spreading across his face, it made it all worth it.

Yes, she felt an immense guilt for buying a dollhouse when Parker obviously was a person but keeping him in a shoebox on her bedside table felt wrong now that he was officially a teenager.

“You really like it?” asked Amanda, her voice choking up as she looked into those thoughtful brown orbs belonging to her son.

“Yeah, this place is sweet! I mean, it kinda has a weird smell and will need some stuff, but I’ve got so many cool places to go now! I can have a library and book area over on the gazebo in that side room. Bedroom is above that. Upstairs here is the recording, writing, reading area. I get a kitchen and my own bathroom too?” Parker felt himself geeking out.

“Well, I’m thrilled you like it,” said his mom, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm. “Anyway, your other presents are related to this place, so I hope you like them.”

Parker could barely contain himself.

He sprinted down the stairs, reveling in how they were perfectly sized just for him, and tore open the presents. Some of them were games he had wanted to buy and the others were gift cards. One gift card was from a place called “Tay Models” that really intrigued him.

“It’s an independent company that makes furniture and accessories for people like you,” replied Amanda. A pang of guilt hit her, but she disguised it behind a smile. Tay Models came up during a search for dollhouse accessories and furniture, but nothing on the website indicated that it was meant for toys and dolls that were Parker’s size.

It was the best solution she could come up with without telling Parker more about the condition she had fabricated to keep him – both of them – safe.

“No way!” Parker was overjoyed and eagerly leapt down out of the house and onto the table to hug his mom’s fingers. “Thanks mom! When can we start working on the water and motors and lights?”

Amanda swallowed hard and nodded. “Today, if you want.”

Parker beamed at her and nodded.

“Yes, please. And… momma… could I sleep in here tonight? Move some of my things in here?” asked Parker. The question made a lump form in Amanda’s throat. This would be the first time Parker would be sleeping in another place instead of right beside her.

It made Amanda feel hollow but also reassured at the same time. She knew it was probably unhealthy to have her son sleeping in the same room within arm’s length of her for the majority of his life, but only now did she feel like she could leave him to his own devices.

Parker was a trustworthy boy, and now he was going to be able to practice his independence at a safe distance.

“Of course, sweetie,” she replied as she turned her hand and Parker leapt on, ready for the next phase of his life.

The rest of the evening was eventful to say the least. Both Amanda and Parker had accidentally soaked themselves while getting the water running in both the kitchen and the bathroom, which was the essential if Parker was going to stay in Parker’s Place.

The two of them had dinner and cake while reading the manual on how to set up the electricity of the house but elected by unanimous vote to work on it tomorrow in favor of watching a double feature before bed.

Parker drifted off to sleep at one point through the movie, leaving his mom to carry him to bed, but woke just long enough to give his mom a kiss goodnight and tuck himself in under his blankets. He stared at the ceiling that, for once, didn’t tower above him.

Things were different, both weird and good, and Parker was excited for the things he was going to get to do with his place.

He drifted into a dream filled sleep of far off adventures and worlds beyond comprehension. When he woke, he hurriedly scribbled down his thoughts and what he remembered about the dream, realizing that it would be an amazing plot for a story.

He suddenly felt like it was a shame to keep all of his ideas to himself. He stared at the countless notebooks that were scattered on the ground and, suddenly, it hit him.

Parker knew what he wanted for his birthday – to be able to publish his ideas.

So, as he stood and stretched, one of his objectives of the day became crystal clear.

He was going to start publishing, just like Selina said, and it was going to start today.

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

Continue

Beginning

31 notes · View notes

narrans · 25 days

Text

My Borrowed Son | 13 | P.O.V.

Chapter Thirteen | P.O.V

What had he just witnessed?

Was what he saw real? Or part of a dream?

No.

There was no way this was part of a dream. It was real.

Kers decided when the snow began to fall that staying on the ground was far too dangerous, so an elevated position above the roots would be better. The four-inch tall Borrower scaled the side of the tree he was hiding under using his broken paperclips and the little bit of string he had saved.

He had to immigrate because the previous home he was in gave their two young daughters cats for their shared birthday. Two cats. One Borrower. Kers did the math and decided it would be safer to leave, even during the cold winter months, and chance getting into another apartment building a few doors down.

He trudged out into the frigid cold with all of his worldly borrowings on his back and found shelter among the roots of a nearby tree. It wasn’t until the morning that he realized he needed to find a safer place, hence the dangerous climb up the tree.

Each handhold felt as though it would give way at any moment. The slickness of the frosted bark was treacherous. The slightest slip would mean his demise, but it needed to be done.

As he climbed, he couldn’t believe that immense creatures such as squirrels and mice could scurry up these things with such ease.

Part of the terror and danger and thrill of being a Borrower.

The few times he nearly slipped made him tremble and shake, but Kers finally made it to the top where he found a notch in the tree that used to belong to a family of squirrels. He wasn’t sure why it was abandoned, but it was warm and a place he could secure while he waited out the storm.

After a midmorning nap and a quick inventory of his belongings, Kers began preparing his food ration for the day when he heard a voice outside. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and send chills ripping down his spine. The Borrower knew the volume of the voice could only mean one thing – a human was nearby.

And, based on the words she was saying, the human wasn’t alone. He couldn’t hear who she was with, but the words she was using made Kers think she was with a young child.

It was odd.

Usually children were loud and obnoxious, making them easy to identify and run away from. So, why couldn’t he hear the child? Was she even with a child? Maybe the human woman was with a pet. Humans did that – talked to animals as if they could understand.

The thought that humans would treat animals more like humans than his own kind if Borrowers were discovered made Kers squirm uncomfortably. If he were caught, Kers had little doubt in his mind that he would be tossed in a cage to live out the rest of his days. He suspected he would be tricked into talking and, if everything went well for him, would live performing tricks like some pet. If things went poorly, he would be experimented on and exposed to the whole world.

It was a terrifying thought.

Still, his Borrower’s curiosity got the better of him after an hour or so of listening to the woman talking and responding to someone she called “Parker” and he peered out of his hiding place, acorn cap disguise on his head, to see what he could see.

His heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he glanced down and saw a Borrower child far below near the roots of the tree. He was barely visible because Kers was so high up in the tree, but there was no mistaking the frame of the small being.

What is happening?

What is going on?

That’s a child!

Has that human noticed him?

A more terrifying thought seized Kers.

That human… that’s who that human woman has been talking to?! She’s been talking to that kid?!

Kers couldn’t see as well as he wanted from his vantage point, but he could tell that the child didn’t seem anxious and didn’t seem like he was trying to escape or get away. At the moment, the Borrower high in the trees had a more pressing issue – the child had found his camp from the night before as well as his footprints.

Shoot. Shoot shoot shoot shoot shoot! If he looks up or tells that human woman he’s working with, I’m screwed!

Take a breath.

I’m okay.

I’m too high for that human to reach me. She can’t get to me up here. Even if she tries, I’m inside the tree and can climb higher if I need to.

His panic made Kers’ limbs shake as he hurriedly began shoving all of his essentials into his getaway bag. The strap was barely over his shoulder when Kers heard the human woman speak, and it sounded close, and her words made him jump out of his skin.

“Parker? What are you doing in there?”

Kers instantly dropped onto the floor of the old squirrel next and listened as hard as he could. This time, because he was a bit closer, Kers could pick up elements of what the boy was saying – and it made his already chilled blood run cold.

“Momma! Momma! I… I think there’s someone else out here!”

No! No! I’m not here. Why are you working with that human? And did… you just call her momma?

“Someone else? That’s not possible,” said the woman. This was a huge benefit in Kers’ mind, and it was enough to inspire a moment of courage in the disguised Borrower.

Kers didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t bear the thought of simply waiting and seeing looming fingers or, heaven forbid, an eye looking in at him reaching for his frame. He needed to look. Kers crawled to the entrance and, heart pounding a hole through him, dared to look over the ledge down toward the ground.

The human woman was there looming over that small, innocent child! The sight alone made him sick and anxious, but he forced himself to look anyway. From what he could tell, the child didn’t seem nervous in the slightest and spoke loudly and clearly for the human woman to hear.

“It’s true! Look! There are footprints. They look like mine!” urged the Borrower boy.

Kers felt his insides churn. Did the child not know the rules? Did he not understand what he was doing? He was about to root out Kers’ hiding place and not protect his fellow Borrower; and for what? To protect his own family? To protect himself?

Why?

Kers watched the human woman look long and hard at the footprints he had left behind hours and hours ago. The whole time, his prayers revolved around not being discovered. After an agonizing amount of time, the woman responded.

“Parker, I think these might’ve just belonged to a small critter like a mouse or rat. Maybe even a squirrel? I just don’t know who would be out in cold like this.”

Kers couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

The human woman was dissuading the Borrower child from asking further questions? The human woman was trying to convince the Borrower child that no one else was out here? The backwardness of the situation made his head spin. It should have been the other way around.

The child should have hidden the footprints.

The child should be persuading the human woman no one was out here.

“But… momma…” The boy looked around before looking, to Kers, defeated. “Maybe.”

Kers let out a sigh of relief, but it didn’t dissuade his confusion. What was going on? Why were they interacting so freely? Was all of this a ruse? Or was there something more going on here?

He continued listening as the woman continued. “Good. Now, I think we’ve had enough fun in the snow. Let’s get inside and get warm; and maybe, just maybe, you and I can read some of that ‘Eragon’ book together. Would you like that?”

The child sighed and nodded, still looking defeated.

“Yes, momma,” said the child named Parker.

Kers felt every nerve in his body screaming in protest and fear as he watched the small child willingly climb into the human woman’s hands. He wanted to call out to the child. He wanted to tell him to fight and that he’d be rescued soon, but something inside of him kept Kers silent.

There was something in the woman’s voice and in the entire interaction that felt too tender – too genuine – to be fake or forced.

It felt impossible, but was it true?

Did that Borrower child think that human was actually his mom? Did she brainwash him? Trick him into thinking that this was normal?

Or was there something more?

Was this genuine?

Was this human woman actually taking care of this Borrower child, treating him like an equal?

Kers had to know more.

He carefully leaned out of his hiding place and watched the woman and the child disappear into a nearby apartment.

Well… at least I know where my next home is going to be. Kers thought.

~~~^*^*^~~~

The trek was a long one and lasted the next day and partway into the night, but Kers finally made it. The apartment where the human woman and Borrower child vanished into was in sight, and he even had an entrance. With precision and care, Kers shimmied up the frozen drainage pipe and he made his way to the roof, which thankfully had a vent pipe that he could slip down.

Eyes adjusting to the dim light and stomach growling uncomfortably, Kers knew he was now bound by fate to whatever was happening inside of this apartment.

He tiptoed through the beams and shimmied on top of the wires as he found the ceiling fan socket which let him look down into the room. The Borrower crouched low and peered down into what looked like the living area only to see the human woman sitting on the couch with a blanket in her lap, book in her hand, and the small child on her shoulder.

The sight was enough to make his blood run cold.

How could that child just sit there on the human’s shoulder without a care in the world? Kers thought about his own level of bravery as he wondered whether he could manage such a feat with calm nerves. The scene was a fascinating one and it had him completely entranced.

Kers wanted – needed – to learn more.

The miniscule man found himself hours later sitting and watching the pair interact and talk. It was like watching the human family he just left interact with one another, the only difference being size between the child and he woman.

At some point, the two of them made dinner, which smelled tantalizing, before the two of them went off to bed.

Now was his chance.

Now was his time!

Kers stared down at the little box that the boy, Parker, called his “room” and saw every opportunity to go and save the child.

But…

Something stopped him.

For years, Kers was convinced that humans would treat Borrowers as pets. He was convinced that someone like him would be shoved into a cage and belittled until the end of their days.

What he just witnessed, however, was something far different.

It was mutual respect. It was like his own mother speaking to him and his siblings. It was like the tender care he had seen the human family he just left from the parents to their two young daughters.

This human was treating this child like a human.

Kers felt confusion wracking his brain, and the hunger in his gut wasn’t helping. He glanced at his pack, which held everything he possessed, and then looked back down at the sleeping kid in the room far below.

It was the most impossible, difficult decision he needed to make, but here he was making it.

At the moment, Kers knew two things.

One, he didn’t have enough supplies to sustain himself right here and now. He needed to go down to the apartment below and borrow as much as he could to set up a proper home for himself.

Two – which was the most gut-wrenching thing he had to decide – was that the child wasn’t in danger. The human woman didn’t have the boy in a cage and, from what Kers could tell, the boy was being taken care of. There was no fear in his voice when he spoke to the woman he called “momma” and he seemed comfortable interacting and maneuvering around in the human world.

Whatever this kid’s story was, Kers wanted to know it; but he couldn’t do that if he needed to take care of himself. For now, he would be the child’s silent protector from the walls, ready to act and save at a moment’s notice. He could learn about this woman from the walls and, when the time came, Kers would venture down and talk to the boy about who he was and what they were if the kid didn’t know.

With a fateful glance down at the boy, Kers vowed that the child wouldn’t be alone, forgotten and abandoned by his own kind. The Borrower ducked into the darkness toward the kitchen, heaviness in his heart as he hoped he made the right decision.

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

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narrans · 26 days

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My Borrowed Son | 12 | Snow Day

Chapter Twelve | Snow Day

The alarm didn’t need to wake him up. He was already awake. Parker was up and dressed reading his papers for class later that day. They were reading some fun books from Mr. Tamplin including “The Magic Treehouse,” “Charlotte’s Web,” and “Fantastic Mr. Fox.” All of them seemed a bit easy if Parker was being honest with himself, but Mr. Tamplin was already ahead of the curve.

He had recommended a few books specifically for Parker that were technically “above his reading level,” but assured Parker that they were well within his level of comprehension. Books like “Eragon,” “The Maze Runner,” and “A Wrinkle in Time,” now filled Parker’s entire room.

His mom had picked out the books on a tablet she gifted to him with his first perfect report card and now Parker couldn’t get enough. For hours, he stared at the screen and flipped through page after page as he devoured the books.

It wasn’t just Mr. Tamplin who was investing in more advanced options for Parker. His science teacher, Ms. Raegan Ocha, had recommended some fascinating biology books as well as some documentaries for Parker to watch. His math class felt fundamental, so Mrs. Cora Doorman-Knowell, supplied additional assignments that now placed Parker at a 7th grade level.

The only one who didn’t seem willing to provide additional studying material was Ms. Kain, who seemed adamant that history was best taught in person and that he could learn with the rest of his classmates. Thankfully, Parker’s mom found a tutor who was willing to help give him some additional assignments.

It made things easier that he could study on his own and had his mother’s help when he needed it. He also had additional tutoring sessions because, as his mom said, she didn’t want him to feel limited and wanted to give him the tools he needed to succeed.

What made everything so great was that his mom never forced him to do the extra assignments. Everything he did was because he wanted to do it – and he loved it. Parker loved learning, and it was only helping him understand the world more. He didn’t find anything else about his condition, sadly, but that was okay. Perhaps, one day, he would learn enough to be a leading scientist to cure and discover more about his own condition.

So, as Parker finished his reading and logged onto his account, a message flashed on the screen that made his heart sink.

“School Closed: Snow Day”

Snow? Wait! It snowed!

Parker quickly leapt up from his desk and ran across the table toward his ladder that led up to the window. He hurried up one hand hold after the next until he stood on the ledge. His heart fluttered nervously as he pushed the curtain off to the side ever so slightly and slipped between the fabric and glass.

The moment he did, he saw it – a winter wonderland.

The snow was already a few inches deep and covered the windowsill as well as part of the yard outside. Big, fluffy snowflakes drifted from the light gray sky that Parker could have sworn was a big as him. He pressed his palms against the frosty glass and watched as his breath fog up the scene in front of him.

Parker loved the snow. As disappointed as he was that school was closed for the day, he was equally as excited to go outside and play in the snow.

He remembered the first time he saw snow. It was late in the day, and he had just finished dinner with his mom when she hurried to the kitchen all excited. She scooped him up and spoke quickly before pulling the curtains and holding him up to the window. His sporadic memory filled in the gaps of him getting dressed in a few extra blankets as his mom brought him outside.

Parker remembered the frigid air hitting him and the pinch of snow his mom gave him as she placed it in her palm with him. He was six or so years old if he remembered correctly.

Parker remembered grabbing one of the snowflakes in his fingers and staring at it in awe. Seeing something so small and so beautiful was mesmerizing. It made him feel, in a weird way, complete. Like things this small were supposed to exist – like he was supposed to be there.

It was a weird, momentary sensation and something Parker would remember for the rest of his life.

“Parker?”

Hearing his name made him jump out of his skin. With his heart pounding, Parker realized he had been drawn into memories long since passed.

“Yes, momma?” he called back as he stepped out from behind the curtain. He saw his mom come into the bedroom with a cup of hot chocolate and a much smaller cup for him. He hurried down the ladder and waved to his mom to let her know where he was. She was bundled up in her stay-at-home robe, meaning that she was working from home today.

“There you are sweetie. I was trying not to wake you, but it looks like you were already up for school,” said his mom. She handed him the small mug once he was settled at his desk. “Sorry. The school called this morning saying school was cancelled. I turned off the alarms, but it seems like you were already up.”

“Yeah, I had to know what happened in the next chapter of Eragon,” said Parker as he sniffled the hot chocolate in his mug. He played with the top of the marshmallow as it blipped beneath the chocolate, leaving little lines on its white surface.

“Oh? Is it a good book?” asked his mom. Parker knew she had already read through the book once before, but she refused to talk about it in fear of spoiling anything for her son. It was frustrating for Parker. It was knowledge she had but wasn’t sharing.

“It’s so good! I just got to the part where Saphira took Eragon away. He rode her, momma! He’s a dragon rider! But what’s going to happen to his uncle? He’s going to be okay, right?” asked Parker. His mom hid behind her mug and smiled.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to read about it and tell me,” she said. Parker’s bottom lip stuck out as his brow furrowed.

“I don’t like that you do that. If you know, you should just tell me. I don’t like you knowing and me not knowing,” mumbled Parker. In frustration, he took a big bite out of his marshmallow and stared at his mug.

Because he was looking down and away, Parker missed the sudden pained look in his mom’s eyes.

Amanda heard that statement and could only think about the biggest secret she had ever kept in her life. Guilt weighed on her mind and on her soul. She wanted to tell Parker everything, and yet she wanted to keep these secrets for the rest of her life.

She wanted to tell him about the fake “condition” she gave him to keep him safe.

She wanted to tell him how he came into her life.

She wanted to tell him about the research she had done about the small people fictions she had found all those years ago when she first found him.

And yet she didn’t at the same time.

In a flash, all of these thoughts, worries, and desires were gone, and she was once again Amanda Silverstein sitting there with her son, Parker, drinking hot chocolate on his very first snow day.

“Momma?” Parker’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. She cleared her throat and looked down at her son.

“Yes, sweetie?” she asked.

“Um… would it be okay if I go outside and play in the snow? And then call Billy and Bailey?” asked Parker. Parker’s mom smiled as she considered her son’s request.

“Of course,” she smiled. “Which do you want to do first?”

“Play! It’s still snowing outside,” cheered Parker as he hurried into his room and pulled out as many layers as he could. He intended to make some fun things to show his friends, and the sooner the better.

Amanda helped get Parker dressed and quickly dressed herself before checking outside and scooping up the miniscule child. The way Parker was dressed reminded her of the kid from “A Christmas Story” when he couldn’t put down his arms. Despite his appearance, however, Parker was still agile and flexible.

The layers he picked kept him maneuverable and warm at the same time. He had never liked feeling too restrained or unable to move freely. It was weird. He was never claustrophobic and, if he was being honest, he enjoyed small and tight spaces. It was the thought of being restrained and unable to move or get away that made him uncomfortable.

Just another odd sensation that crept up in him from time to time.

The sudden rush of cold air from the outside world drew his attention to the present and, within minutes, Parker was outside in the snow making snow angels with his momma.

There were several clear spaces by the house, but slightly in the neighbor’s yard, that were free of footsteps and debris that Parker started his work.

He started by making a daisy chain of snow angels, which his mom took pictures of. Next, he started making the biggest snowboy family he could muster. His mom helped from time to time, but she mostly helped by snapping twigs and finding eyes and noses for Parker’s creations. This, too, was picture worthy.

It wasn’t until Parker walked up to the tree and started climbing the bark and jumping into the snow that he noticed something odd.

Parker’s mom had stepped away for a moment because a client called her and needed some information. So, in the meantime, Parker decided to try and climb around the tree by grasping onto the bark and shimmying from one side to the next.

When Parker made it to the opposite side of the tree, he noticed something that made his hair stand on end. It was so odd that he actually dropped to the ground and rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands.

Footprints.

At least, he thought they looked like footprints.

They were right by the base of the tree and, upon further investigation, led into the roots.

Parker was absolutely taken aback. Shaking all over, he stepped forward and pressed his shoes into the snow and saw that the prints were a little bigger than his, but about the same proportionally.

But… how?

Did this belong to an animal? Or did this belong to someone like him? Was there someone else like him out here in the cold?

His mind began to race and made him feel nauseous. He needed to know more. Carefully, he stepped forward under the tree roots and glanced around. Like a detective, he began combing over the snow covered leaves and along the dirt. Something about the place felt secure to him, and that odd sensation of being watched crept over him again.

Parker whipped around and nearly leapt out of his skin to see his mom leaning over by the roots peering in at him. There was something completely unnerving about seeing a giant, looming eye over him.

Again, why?

This was his mom.

“Parker? What are you doing in there?” asked his mom. He began to sputter over his words as he clambered out of the roots.

“Momma! Momma! I… I think there’s someone else out here!” Parker proclaimed. His mom’s features stiffened as she glanced from Parker to the tree roots.

“Someone else? That’s not possible,” she said. Not possible? How could she say something like that?

“It’s true! Look! There are footprints. They look like mine!” urged Parker as he ran over and pointed to the spots he saw before. At second look, they were filled partially with snow, meaning they had probably been there for a while.

His mom’s eyes narrowed as she knelt further and evaluated the area. Her heart was racing a million miles a minute. Was there someone else small like Parker out here in the snow? Did they leave because they came outside to play? Or were they gone? What would happen if whoever left these footprints found Parker? Would they have the answers he was looking for? Or would something else have happened?

To Amanda, the moment lasted a lifetime. She tried to compose herself as she gazed down into her son’s eagerly awaiting eyes.

What could she tell him?

Was now the time to talk about the truth?

She tried to look calm and confident, but the intuitive child may have seen her flash of fear moments earlier.

To Parker, on the other hand, she seemed a bit quiet and tense and not nearly half as excited as he felt. This was possibly his chance to meet someone his size! Ask them questions about their condition and if they knew anything else that he didn’t know.

“Parker.” Just the way she said his name made Parker feel defeated. “I think these might’ve just belonged to a small critter like a mouse or rat. Maybe even a squirrel? I just don’t know who would be out in cold like this.”

“But… momma…”

Parker looked back at the footprints and, much like the episode of that science show his mom liked, “Bones,” there was that weird reasonable doubt in his mind. Maybe it did belong to something else. Also, his condition was an extremely rare one. What were the chances of someone like him being out in a place like this in a snowstorm?

It was probably just feeling.

Parker sighed and nodded.

“Maybe.”

“Good. Now, I think we’ve had enough fun in the snow. Let’s get inside and get warm; and maybe, just maybe, you and I can read some of that ‘Eragon’ book together. Would you like that?” asked Amanda.

“Yes, momma,” said Parker, feeling a bit defeated. He climbed back onto his mom’s hand and stared at the scene in front of him. The little snowboys. The little snow angels.

Everything was so little.

Parker sighed and pulled his legs into his chest as his mom carried the both of them back into the house. The entire trip back, he couldn’t help but think that his mom might have been keeping something from him. There was something in her eyes that just made her waver.

What was it?

And why?

Parker shrugged it off.

Perhaps, one day, he would ask her about it. Until then, he let himself feel excited that he and his momma were going to spend some time reading on this beautiful, snowy day.

…..

Too bad he didn’t look up into the branches high above….

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

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narrans · 27 days

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My Borrowed Son | 11 | First Day of School

Chapter Eleven | First Day of School

Parker wasn’t sure why he was so jittery. Well… he did, and yet he didn’t. There were a million things going on in his mind, and yet he couldn’t summon the right words.

His mom had done it. He was going to school.

Well… kind of.

He was in virtual school, which was the next best thing. Parker knew he couldn’t attend normal school because of his condition, but that didn’t matter. Now, he would get to see other kids and hear all sorts of new things from his teachers. There would be homework and reading assignments and, if he was lucky, he would make some friends.

Parker had on his best shirt and made sure everything was tucked in and that his hair was combed out thoroughly. He had been waiting for this moment all summer and he was not about to leave a bad impression or get off on the wrong foot.

Something in the little boy was making him shiver and shake with both excitement and nerves.

What if the other kids didn’t like him?

What if he wasn’t smart enough to keep up with the work?

What happened if he was too smart?

Would he be bullied?

Or would he be welcomed with open arms like any other kid?

Was his condition going to make the others uncomfortable?

What if they asked too many questions about why he got to stay at home and go to school virtually?

Parker took a breath to calm down his mind. It was something his mom taught him. To reinforce the calm he was trying to bring over himself, Parker remembered his conversation with his mom.

“Now, Parker, remember what I said about your condition?” Amanda had asked him earlier that day and every day for the past two weeks.

“It is a rare condition that the doctors are still figuring out. I’m just like you, just a bit fragile,” recited Parker at the drop of a hat.

“If there are other questions about how you’re fragile?” prompted Amanda.

“It’s hard to explain, but it’s basically what it sounds like. My body is delicate. I can break bones easier and stuff like that and being outside makes my body react poorly. It also means I grow differently, so I’m a bit small for my age,” explained Parker. At that moment, Dr. Melissa Hargrove’s words also rang in his ears about how Parker’s body was just like any other kid’s body, just a bit smaller.

For whatever reason, Parker wondered why Dr. Hargrove, his pediatrician, knew about his condition, but he couldn’t find a lot of information about it online.

It’s not like it mattered in the long run.

What mattered was that Parker was getting what he wanted – a chance to be a normal kid.

His entire setup was a bit unorthodox, but it was necessary. Parker had a webcam perched on top of a few wooden blocks so that he was front and center, just like some kind of CEO in a company. His mom had purchased a nice desk for him as well as some bookshelves for him to put his notebooks.

Not only had his mom purchased a nice desk and bookshelves for him, but she also made an expansion to his room so he could have a study space. Everything was set up nicely, making Parker feel like he was in an office room like his mom’s office. It made him feel very grown up.

A computer was nearby so Parker could watch the screen and feel like he was part of the class. If he had a question, he had a few buttons he could press to raise his hand virtually. If he was having some tech issues, his mom was permitted to assist. If he misbehaved, his special permission to be virtual could be revoked.

But Parker was determined to make sure he never lost these privileges.

He intended to be the best student that ever was at this school.

As he readjusted his camera and his desk with his paper and pencils arranged just so, his mom paced not so quietly nearby. Her footsteps sounded like small earthquakes to him. It made the table tremble rhythmically. His mom’s pacing was usually soothing. The miniscule child had fond memories of falling asleep to his mother’s pacing. This time, however, it was making him feel anxious.

It wasn’t until he heard his mother’s signature tongue click that he knew she wanted to say something. He suspected she had a few things on her mind, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.

“Parker, sweetie, do you need anything else before class starts?” she asked.

“No, momma. I have everything,” said Parker. Something about the apprehension in his mother’s eyes made Parker feel uncomfortable. There was a part of him that was afraid she would change her mind at any moment about him going to school, not that she had done anything like that in the past.

“You sure? You don’t want any water or a snack?” asked his mom. Parker shook his head and smiled up at her.

“I’m sure, but thank you,” said Parker. “Momma? Don’t worry. I’ll be good. I’ve got all my supplies and I’ll be fine. I promise.” He pushed himself away from his desk, glancing at the computer screen to make sure he was still on time, and walked over to the edge of the desk.

“I know, and I’m trying not to worry. I just want you to have a great first day.” His mom approached and knelt, her eyes lingering on his eyes. A child’s intuition and innocents are unparalleled, and now was one of those moments. Parker didn’t understand all of the emotions his mother was going through, but what he did know was that she needed reassurance. The moment felt right, so Parker reached out and rested his hand against his mother’s cheek.

“I’ll make you proud, momma.” His words immediately brought tears to his mom’s eyes, and it took everything in her willpower to not scoop him up and pull him away from the world. He was too sweet – too pure – to be exposed to the outside world.

If a mother’s worries were astronomical, Amanda’s were incomprehensible. The terror of Parker being revealed as a miniscule child that could fit in a human hand was almost crippling. The fear of him doubting himself or not succeeding in everything he deserved to succeed in made Amanda want to cry. The desire for Parker to be accepted and to make lasting friendships was stronger than adamantium.

She knew parenthood was going to be a challenge, especially with a small child like Parker, but she didn’t think emotions this intense would possess her.

Amanda wanted to say so much more, but the flicker of the computer screen revealing a classroom caught both her and Parker’s attention. He looked back at her and beamed, a smile spread from ear to ear, as he hurried back to his desk and pressed the “on” switch to his camera.

There he was on screen. The image flicked on and revealed the classroom on the big screen. It made Parker feel like he was watching a movie with his mom, except this one was interactive – real.

The camera picked up all of the sound of the buzzing classroom, which made Parker’s hair raise. It was an odd sensation, but something in the back of his mind begged him to flee and hide away from the camera. The other part of him that ended up winning out had him stay put on the camera and sit patiently as he waited for class to begin.

Where did that sensation come from?

Why was it always nagging him in the back of his mind?

Parker pushed it from his mind as he focused on the other kids in the classroom, absorbing every detail of the classroom. There were at least twenty other kids, all of them around Parker’s age, and they were walking around the room and talking to one another. Based on his position in the room, Parker suspected he was at the front of the room by the teacher’s desk since he couldn’t see it in the picture of the class on his screen.

The desks were arranged in groups of five, making Parker think that his area was set up at one of these five desks since he could only see four other desks around his screen but five desks at all of the other spots in the room. It made him wonder who he was going to be with and if they would get along. His palms felt sweaty and his insides flipped and churned nervously.

The clock at the front of the room was counting down to 9:00 a.m. Each second, Parker felt a fluttering nervousness swirling inside him. He spotted a few of the kids looking and pointing at the camera, many of them covering their mouths and leaning toward one another as they whispered.

It made Parker squirm uncomfortably. Were they talking about him? And, if so, why not just come over and talk? He recited the questions and answers in his head that he and his mother rehearsed, the anticipation of talking to someone new for the first time starting to make him antsy.

Still, he wanted to put his best foot forward. He smiled and waved at some of the nearby groups, but that only made the other kids look away.

The miniscule boy wondered why.

He was just like them, just not there in person.

Perhaps they just know one another from the other grades? Friends gravitate to one another from grade to grade. Maybe they’re just as scared as me?

Parker smiled again and waved as a group of three girls walked past his screen. All of them had this weird look on their face, like it was a mixture of confusion and disgust.

Were all girls like this? Parker wondered.

It felt like a punch in the gut, but Parker was determined; at least, he started off determined.

When the bell rang and no one approached, Parker was feeling defeated. Could the other kids see him? Did he look like some kind of screen robot? Or was this just how things were going to be?

Oh well… I wanted to go to learn too… Parker thought. I guess making friends is harder than I…

“Hey, are you new here?”

Parker was pulled from his thoughts to see a massive face of a girl about his age leaning forward toward the camera. She had charcoal black eyes and black hair that was spun in tight, curly spirals. She had a little gap in between her front teeth, and it was clear she had lost a tooth recently at the bottom left of her jaw.

Again, that instinct to flee and hide welled up inside of him, but Parker choked it down as he fidgeted with his penicils.

“Um… uh… yeah. Hi! Sorry. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Parker. What’s your name?” asked the anxious ten year old. The girl leaned away and stared at the screen, her penetrating eyes making Parker feel like she was actually looking at him, before she looked directly into the camera.

“I’m Bailey. Bailey Johnson. Don’t you have a last name? Daddy always taught me to say your first and last name when you meet someone new,” said Bailey as she folded her arms across her chest and leaned forward on her desk.

“R-right,” stammered Parker, feeling like he was starting to flounder already. He wasn’t going to shy away from this though. He cleared his throat and straightened up. “I’m Parker Silverstein. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” beamed Bailey as she shimmied in her seat. “Um… why are you on a screen? It’s the first day. You sick or somethin’?”

Parker didn’t have a chance to answer, not that he was eager to do so. It was the first time he was going to put his question answering to the test, but it was cut short by someone striking a triangle that hung over the whiteboard.

“Alright, everyone sit down and get ready. We’ve got a lot to cover today and, if you were in my class last year, you know the drill,” said a tall man at the front of the class. He wore black rimmed glasses that reminded Parker of the ones Clark Kent would wear in the comics to disguise himself from being Superman. The man had sandy blond-brown hair, much like Parker’s hair, but he had pale blue eyes that reminded Parker of glacier ice that he had seen in his science books. The man looked young, but he held himself with the confidence of someone older than him. The man began to pace back and forth at the front of the room and continued to speak, which quieted the room.

“For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Mr. William Tamplin. You may call me Mr. Tamplin unless you’re my mother, which I don’t think any of you are, and I’m your homeroom teacher. I’m also you English instructor, math tutor, and I sometimes hold kickball tournaments for your grade range. I play the French horn and give piano lessons on weekends. Tracking?

“Good. Now, today is very simple despite all we have to do today. First and foremost, let’s get up from our chairs and give ourselves a little shake. First day jitters always keep me moving, and I can see some of you squirming in your seats already. So, let’s stand and shake.”

It was an unorthodox method to begin with, but a little more coaxing had the students standing and shimmying and shaking. Some of the kids started laughing, and even Parker stood and found himself laughing a bit at watching everyone get out their first day jitters.

Already, this was making him feel comfortable.

“Alright! Everyone back in your seats. We’re going to be doing a lot of these things throughout the day, so stay still until I ring this bell. As soon as you hear it, stand and get out those jitters. Okay?

“Good! Now, first and foremost we need to introduce ourselves. We’ll take turns, but let’s start small. Look at your classmates and shake everyone’s hand and introduce yourselves. You have thirty seconds. Go!” instructed Mr. Tamplin.

Parker had to admit that his teacher had a special way of conducting the room, and soon he had the names of the other five kids at his table. There was Bailey, of course, but also Davis, Lyanna, and Billie.

All of them asked, almost in unison, why Parker was on a screen and not at the table. Lyanna seemed less interested like Davis, who was currently drawing on his desk, but Bailey and Billie seemed genuinely curious as to why Parker wasn’t there with them.

“Well, it’s a bit complicated, but I have a medical condition. It just makes me a bit fragile, so I have to have school at home,” replied Parker.

“Lucky,” mumbled Davis as he continued drawing on the desk.

“Davis, you shouldn’t be doing that. It’s disrespectful,” scolded Bailey as she turned her charcoal eyes back to Parker.

“So, you’re sick a lot? That’s gross,” said Billie. “But you look fine to me. When I’m sick, I have snot, like, dripping down my face like the nasty monster. Like this. Blleehhh!” Billie proceeded to pretend snot was coming out of his face as he dragged his fingers down his nose.

“Ew! You’re disgusting,” Lyanna said as she rolled her eyes.

“You’re disgusting,” Billie shot back.

Parker was about to interrupt, but Mr. Tamplin rang the bell again and everyone stood and got out their jitters, something Parker was enjoying. It made him feel relaxed and connected to a class he could only see on a screen. It also distracted his table from the current argument they were about to engage in.

“Alright, now everyone needs to introduce themselves to the class, okay? One at a time so we can get to know your face. Just like I did, stand and tell us your name and a little something about yourself. It can be something you like doing. It can be your favorite television show or book. Ready? You have ten seconds and then the first student is whoever I point to. Go!”

One by one, the students stood up and introduced themselves, willing to participate in this game-like activity set forth by Mr. Tamplin. Parker was having a great time until, finally, he saw Mr. Tamplin’s eyes focus on him and his finger point directly at the screen.

“Okay. You. Who are you?” asked Mr. Tamplin. Parker suspected Mr. Tamplin already knew who he was, but it was part of the activity. Suddenly, Parker’s heart was in his throat and every thought was wiped from his mind.

Who was he?

What was his name?

What was he supposed to say?

Parker felt a mixture of nausea and excitement as he stood up from his at-home desk and cleared his throat. His heart was pounding a hole through his ribs. The edges of his vision seemed to blur and refocus.

Then, somehow, the words just came to him.

“Hello, my name is Parker Silverstein. My favorite book is The Hobbit, by J.R.R. Tolkien, and I like inventing and making things,” said Parker. He took a breath of relief as he waited for Mr. Tamplin to instruct him to sit back down.

“Well, Parker, nice to meet you. Everyone say ‘Hi Parker’.”

“Hi Parker!” Everyone echoed back. It was the same thing everyone had done to one another the entire class.

“Now, Parker, would you like to explain why you’re on a screen? Or do you want to save that for another day?” asked Mr. Tamplin. The ten year old child felt a pit form inside him. It made him feel a bit awkward to be called out in front of everyone, but he kind of wanted to get it over with all at once.

Plus, Mr. Tamplin had given him an option of now or later.

“Um… I can tell them now. Um… so… I have a… um… medical condition. It’s a bit rare and it basically just makes me a bit fragile, so I have school at home,” explained Parker.

“Wonderful. Thank you for sharing Parker. Now, onto the next!”

Just like that, without any extra hassle, Parker had explained to over twenty other kids that he was just a little bit different, and no one had any other questions.

Though it was bound to happen, Parker was grateful that Mr. Tamplin didn’t open up the floor for discussion. He didn’t like all of that attention on him if he was being completely honest. It made his skin crawl and he felt like he needed to duck away and hide under the desk away from the camera.

At the same time, it was exhilarating. Parker had just made so many new friends, and some of them were right there at his table.

The day continued, for the most part, without incident. There were a few teachers that came into the room and had additional questions for Parker who emphasized to the class that he was going to get all of the same homework, additional lessons, and supplementary material like everyone else, but no one seemed interested in the particulars.

There was one teacher, Ms. Kendall Kain, who pulled Parker’s monitor to the side to ask, as she said, some “follow up questions.” Many of them were about specifics of his condition followed by a somewhat implying statement about Parker not looking sick. At some point, Parker called in his mom to answer some of Ms. Kain’s questions, which quieted Ms. Kain for the rest of the day.

Parker loved all of his teachers, except for Ms. Kain with her wrinkly brow and thick rimmed glasses held on by a gaudy beaded chain, and he was more than ready to tackle the literal stack of homework he was given.

After that incident with Ms. Kain, Parker’s mom peered in from time to time to give him a little thumbs-up, to which Parker always returned the gesture.

The rest of the day ran smoothly, ending once again with Mr. Tamplin.

Parker logged off from class and, with excitement, rushed out to his ladder to run to his mom to tell her all about the day he had at school. This was a promising start to his educational journey, and a tart to even greater things to come.

Parker was sure of it.

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

Continue

Beginning

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narrans · 1 month

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The Orion's Daughter : To Lands Beyond | Chapter 17 | How to Proceed

**~~~~~**

Chapter Seventeen | How to Proceed

**~~~~~**

It was an arduous process, but I was slowly but surely making my way through the documents. After Steele’s polite decline and after the Captain’s insistence as well as the insistence of his friend, he seemed to be thinking about their request for his return and counsel. Knowing Steele, that meant that he was going to sit and stare at the horizon for a few hours weighing his options and, ultimately, go with his gut feeling about the whole situation in the first place.

For this, it meant that he was not going to go.

Still, he decided to humor me and let me read through the documents the Captain and Wofur provided. The ride back on the dinghy was tense, but I couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement at the same time. I was eager to know what was going on in the world beyond the horizon, and I soon found out.

After spending hours combing through the documents, I felt completely and utterly blindsided.

This was a bigger deal than I thought.

First, Keonune and Laryuen had some tense history with the mainland, mostly because of where they were located. Steele told me a bit about the different territories, and so I knew that the Orion living in Keonune were high in the mountains and the Orion living in Laryuen was practically a marshy swamp land.

While teaming with life in their own way, it was hardly pleasant living conditions for those in Laryuen. The documents stated they were requesting more supplies for trade, but other documents and correspondence stated that there was hardly enough on the mainland to go around and that everyone received approximately the same amount of rations.

For the inhabitants of Keonune and Laryuen, it wasn’t enough.

I kept my oil lamp close, walking along the text that was scrolled and scratched in letters as long as my arm, as I continued to read.

Evidently, this treatment and various hostilities had been going on for quite some time – and now they were all at a breaking point.

The more I read, the more I felt for the Orion and the people of these territories. It was true that everyone was receiving proper trade and equal amounts, but it was because the living conditions were so harsh that they were asking to adjust the boarder lines, which would give both the inhabitants of Keonune and Laryuen more territory than the other districts.

This was the primary crux of the issue and why they were willing to go to war.

The entire time I read, I continued to update Steele about what I was discovering. I informed him of the details and facts without him having to deal with the minutiae of the situation.

“Steele, did you know that the Orion from Keonune have pushed down from the mountains into two of the towns. They’re not occupying it, based on their claims. They’re ‘co-habitating’ according to their leader. Do you know someone by the name of Imvyr Masatar?”

Sometimes, Steele would recognize the names and give me a summarized history of this person or that person, telling me how he knew them or some of the tactics he heard they used. While all of the information was useful, it was nowhere near some of the questions I wanted to ask him. I wanted to know about Steele’s military history. I wanted to know about the respect he commanded among the ranks of a crew of strangers. Still, those questions could wait for after he made his decision.

For now, this was the priority.

I combed through more documents, describing all of the events leading up to the most recent ones. It wasn’t until I reached one point where there was a skirmish that I noticed the name of our continent, Rascya, pop up. I shook in my shoes in disbelief and surprise as I read how the Orion of Keonune and Laryuen were now pushing into our homeland.

It was at the far east, but it was still happening.

Our home was being affected by this war of the Orion.

It was then that, from the depths of my mind, that I remembered something that the First Mate on the ship said to Steele as she helped debrief him of some of the facts.

The First Mate said that precautions and preparations were being made, and then she made eye-contact with me and glanced at my momma. It was a reluctant look, like how adults talked about children while they were in the room.

What did that mean?

My heart flipped in my chest as my mind was set to the races. Whatever it meant, it was not good – specifically for momma and for people like us. I wondered for a moment longer if there were reports in the east of what was happening or if communication was being cut off on purpose.

Were our people dying in droves and we didn’t even know?

First, I needed to know what these precautions and preparations were. My mouth suddenly felt like I had stuffed them with cotton. I looked around me and suddenly noticed that the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting the horizon in odd, haunting shades of pinks, oranges, and reds. Steele’s eyes were still clinging onto the edge of the world where the sky met the sea. Somehow, the light accentuated the subtle wrinkles and crow’s feet on his face, making dark, contrasting shadows that made him seem like a different person than the one I had learned to call dad.

I don’t know why I felt so nervous to ask him. Perhaps, in a way, I suspected the answer, but I didn’t want to confirm it.

Still, I needed to know – I had to know.

“Steele?” my voice sounded so small as I called up to him. At first, it was like he didn’t hear me. He kept his eyes, unblinking, turned toward the ocean. It wasn’t until I opened my mouth to call out to him again when he blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath, before turning his violet eyes onto me. They looked luminous against the sky.

“Yes, Terrilyn?” asked Steele. His voice sounded exhausted and wary. It was like he knew what I was about to ask and was reluctant to share the information and resigned himself to answering, regardless of the information’s unpleasantness.

“I keep seeing the same references to preparations and precautions, and I remember the First Mate saying something about it before looking at momma and I,” I said. Steele nodded as if he could see the question behind my eyes. “What does that mean?”

Steele chewed on his bottom lip and, for the first time in a long time, turned to look back at the water without answering my question. He was nodding slowly over and over again. Anxiousness pressed in on my chest like deep water diving, surrounding me and compressing the air until it was almost unbearable. Just when I felt like I needed to break the surface, Steele responded.

“There are laws and clauses in our government that recognizes your people. You know one of them as the Directive of Noninterference. We, the Orion, know and recognize that our civilization is different than yours. We have made certain advancements that your people have not yet discovered.

“Our counsels and political figureheads of the day, long before I was around, decided it would be better if our two races did not interact very much as a whole to prevent us from accidentally tampering with your natural civilized progression,” stated Steele. His voice sounded distant and mechanical, like he needed to emotionally distance himself from the information.

“That was the one you were afraid that they were coming to arrest you for? The Noninterference directive? Telling us about your civilization and educating us? Teaching us about more efficient crop harvesting and so forth?” I asked. Steele nodded complacently.

“Yes,” he replied quietly. I was able to take one breath, but it was far from the relief that I needed. He needed to keep talking.

“Alright, I understand as much, but what about the other thing? You haven’t explained these precautions yet. Is that another directive?” I asked. The reluctant wall Steele had placed between the information and me broke. Just like before with his detached tone, he began explaining.

“There is a clause in our laws that addresses conflict, specifically about it reaching your territories. Because we know of our devastating abilities and our natural advantages, a specific clause was created to protect your people. It states that if war or conflict appears eminent, it is the counsel’s responsibility to utilize the Counsel of Archanum to preserve the cultures of different regions, cities, towns, et cetera by bringing small groups to our land, confining them to a safe location, and then relocating them once the potential hazards have been neutralized,” said Steele, his words hanging hollowly in the air.

My knees were actually shaking as I stared up at the only true father I had ever known.

Did he just say what I thought he said?

Relocating them? Moving my people? Bringing small groups to their homeland? Confining them? Relocating them? Keeping them “safe?”

It reminded me of something I read from the traveling scholars and university students about preserving wildlife in developing areas. From what Steele just said, sounded like he was talking about some kind of endangered species of lizard, not people – my people.

“But… there’s no way our people have signed off on this, right? Do our councilmen know about this? If they do, this is horrid! They’re just letting our people be relocated without general consent? Why not just have us evacuate?” I asked. Steele once again looked away from me, but this time he was shaking his head.

“No,” he said, obviously crestfallen at his admission. “Your people are kept in the dark about this particular directive for reasons. It would raise too many questions and too many would resist, condemning countless lives to death simply because some are too stubborn to relocate themselves. So, no. Your people have not given consent, and it is because of the Directive of Noninterference that we do not inform your people and simply have you relocate.”

My jaw dropped.

This was worse than I thought. The Orion – giants by our standards – were on the brink of all-out war and our citizens didn’t have any clue as to what loomed on the horizon, literally. We were sitting ducks, fish in a barrel, and we had no resources to defend ourselves and no say in how we were to proceed.

“Steele! This is an atrocity! This violates all of my peoples’ civil liberties and puts us at horrible risk. We have to tell the authorities! We need to notify the heads of our districts and inspire action.” My voice had taken on a life of its own, ringing out like some kind of patriotic orator. I felt energy surge through me as I felt true purpose.

Steele’s violet eyes, however, held a much heavier look.

“Terrilyn, these actions would be in direct violation on my part with the Directive of Noninterference. Not only that, but getting these authorities to listen to you will be an immense challenge and take time we do not have,” stated Steele. “As you read in the report, they are already on the brink of war. Things like this take time.”

I felt frustration well up inside of me. I stood defiantly and stared at my giant, Orion father. Rarely were we at odds, and this felt like one of those times.

“So, we do nothing?” I demanded. “Like cowards and the lords who are far removed from the front lines, watching and judging without residing in the slums and trenches with his people?” There was a flare in Steele’s eyes as he looked at me.

The look wasn’t that of anger, but of bruised personal pride.

“Terrilyn, my kind, sweet summer child. You do not know the atrocities of war. The logistics and persuasions, treaties and deals, are no longer viable options. Fighting is all that will stop Keonune and Laryuen now,” sighed Steele. He folded his hands and turned his eyes to the sea once again.

I looked over at the silhouette of the ship, my eyes catching the faint bit of light on the bow and stern as well as the few cabins that could be seen because of the light through the portholes.

My thoughts raged in my head as I fixated on the ship.

How could he sound so defeated? They came to him for help because he’s dealt with this situation before. Why is he so reluctant? It’s not like he would actually be fighting, right? Or is he afraid they will arrest him for the whole Noninterference Directive thing?

My insides twisted. Right there as a silhouette on the horizon was the chance to protect my people and to prevent the death of countless lives. Right there was adventure and the chance to see Steele’s world, a place I had only imagined though dreams and descriptions he gave me.

It was heart wrenching.

Then, a thought occurred to me.

Maybe he wouldn’t go, but would that stop me?

“Dad?” I said as I kept my eyes fixed on the mast. “You said once that visitors from other lands were designated as ambassadors by default unless your counsel had someone designated for the position, right?”

My Orion father looked down at me, violet eyes stern and fierce with a play of curiosity in them.

“This is correct, but…”

“Could I go?” I asked. The words were out of me before I could even think about them. I knew this was going to bring on a discussion, but I was more than ready to continue defending my point.

This – my world and my people – were important to me.

My father’s violet eyes softened into a pensive look.

“Terrilyn, do you truly desire this?” asked Steele. “Do you truly want to go and attempt to undo the impossible?” I straightened up and looked him in the eyes. I felt overwhelmed, but excited too.

“We will not so easily be overlooked simply because of our size and advances. Perhaps we were far behind the Orion, but that didn’t mean we were only slightly superior to animals. I want to go. I need to go. This is important to me, Steele. Even if it does nothing, at least I tried. Isn’t that what you taught me to do?” I asked.

I could have sworn that beneath his stern gaze that I saw a hint of a smile turning the corners of his lips upward.

“Indeed,” Steele muttered. “Koova ka’non psion. Feylyra koova. Liehara naterma.”

I knew what he meant.

My dearest love. My daughter. Just like your mother.

I felt myself beam with pride. Evidently, I had done something right.

“Very well,” he said softly as he tore his eyes from me back to the mast of the ship. “We shall go.”

Did I hear him correctly? Go? We?

“You… you’re coming with me?” I asked. Steele nodded and tenderly placed his hand on the ground beside me. I stepped on without hesitation and crouched as he lifted his hand near his face. Those captivating violet eyes of his turned once again on me, and I felt a shiver run through me.

For a moment as my heart flipped in my chest, I saw the commander Steele once was. I felt an intimidating presence of a wise, seasoned warrior who was determined to turn the tides set before him.

“I will not allow my daughter to enter into this battle alone,” he said firmly.

I knew what I was asking. I knew what Steele was sacrificing. He was willing to travel across the world to face a world he thought he would never see again for me, and I loved him for it.

I stood and stepped carefully up to the side of his palm, holding my hands out as I used to as a much younger child. Knowing what it meant, Steele pulled his hand closer to his face and let me hug along the bridge of his nose, our foreheads pressed together as we once did.

After countless seconds passed, Steele pressed his lips against my chest and pulled away only to fixate once again on the ship.

“We have some letters to send out of courtesy to your officials to let them know of what is occurring as well as your intention to be an ambassador. Then, we must hail the ship. It will be a long night ahead of us,” stated Steele. I felt tingly all over, excitement electrifying my nerves as Steele lowered me to the ground.

“Yes, dad,” I said assertively.

Yes, the night would be long, and maybe it was all for nothing and the wheels of fate were already turning. Still, I knew in my heart that this was the right thing to do.

Grabbing my writing desk and preparing for the long night ahead, I dipped my quill and prepared to change history’s tale with nothing more than ink and perseverance. Would it be enough?

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

Continue | Coming Soon

Beginning

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

Book One: The Orion’s Factotum

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Hey there tall, small, and in the walls!

It's official! Hero is up next for the OC Ask saga.

If you have any questions for our friendly neighborhood Borrower, comment down below or message me directly on any of my social media platforms.

Thank you all so much for your love and support and I can't wait to see your questions for Hero.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

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My Borrowed Son | 10 | Unwrapped Questions

Chapter Ten | Unwrapped Questions

“Happy birthday Parker! Smile!” Amanda held up her phone and snapped several pictures over and over, not wanting to miss a single moment. The click of the digital shudder seemed to flick the memories from the past six years before Amanda’s eyes. She replayed them in her mind.

She could remember all of it as if it were yesterday.

Finding Parker under the bench abandoned and alone.

His first words.

His trust building as he grew and began to question the world around him.

It seemed like yesterday that she celebrated his first birthday with her where he turned a whopping five years old; at least, that’s where she thought he was age wise. Now he was officially ten years old.

Double digits.

It took everything in her not to break out in a sob as she reminisced. The years had certainly aged him. The minuscule boy no bigger than her thumb was growing up. There was a sense of pride that she had managed to keep him alive and safe all of this time, but also a sense of wonder and fear.

Parker wasn’t two inches tall anymore. He was getting closer to three and a quarter inches, and he would only keep growing from there. He was developing a sense of style and taste in the things he liked. The clothes he wore, which he was beginning to make himself, were more free flowing and flexible while tight in others.

His mind constantly wanted more knowledge. By now, he had read through nearly every book in Amanda’s home and she was renting stacks of books weekly for him from the local library. Parker had also gotten into experimenting recently, which was a huge scare for Amanda.

She had walked by his room one day to find one of the push lights completely disassembled and Parker messing with the wires, connecting them to different elements of the electronic device to figure out how it worked.

That ended up being a discussion about safety which Parker did not enjoy.

The rambunctious boy was also getting into climbing and inventing, which set Amanda completely on edge. Not only was Parker balancing precariously on whatever he could, but he was testing the strength of different items around the house. Once, Amanda found him with a piece of yarn attached to a paper clip which was wrapped around one of the knobs on the bathroom counter.

When she asked him why, he said he didn’t know.

It just felt right.

He had an unexplainable urge to climb and jump and tumble over anything and everything. Try as she might, Amanda couldn’t get him to stop completely. The compromise was that she had an area specifically set up for him to run drills and “play.” It was like a complicated playground with tunnels made from the cardboard tubes from toilet paper or paper towels as well as yarn, toys, and boxes.

Despite his rambunctiousness, Parker also found time for his “quiet” activities, reading and writing in the notebooks Amanda gave him. He was a thoughtful, intuitive child and it really showed in his writing when he dared to share it with his mom.

Now, he was a whole ten years old.

Amanda nearly choked up again as she stared at her son’s face and the little plume of smoke where the candle once stood lit. It was the first candle he had ever been able to blow out by himself.

“Did you get it, mom?” asked Parker as he leaned around his cupcake birthday cake and stood as tall as he could. Amanda had to quickly wipe her eyes with the back of her hand as she nodded.

“Of course I did, sweetie,” she said affectionately. “Now, cake or presents first?”

“Presents please!” Parker cheered as he stepped off of his makeshift stool that he stood on top of to blow out his candle. He darted over to the small, wrapped boxes Amanda had prepared. It was excruciating work, but it was well spent. Parker deserved to have wrapped presents just like any other child after all.

The child bounced on the balls of his feet as he examined the five different packages in front of him. Two of them were about as big as him while the other three were much smaller.

He decided to go with the big ones.

It took him a minute to undo the wrapping as his little fingers fumbled with the paper, but he eventually pulled it back to reveal an MP3 player. It was a very simple model that took AAA batteries, but it held loads of music, which was something Parker frequently enjoyed.

“Oh, thank you momma… but… what is it?” asked Parker. He remembered his manners even when he was confused, which made Amanda chuckle.

“It’s a music player. Now you can play music in your room without asking me. You just flick this right here to turn it on and this is how you switch songs,” Amanda explained as she demonstrated how to use Parker’s new toy.

She knew it was old fashioned technology, but he was still a bit too young in her opinion to have a phone or complete access to the internet. What little access he did have was to watch movies at the end of the night, which was always with Amanda.

“Ohhh! Thank you momma!” Parker said eagerly as he pressed the play button and began listening to the “Happy” song. He moved onto the small packages, which were some more books and new colored pencils, the “world’s smallest video game, and a new board game - chess. It was part of a multipack which Amanda had been rationing out when he achieved something like reading a big book. Now felt like a good time to give him a more complicated game which he could learn over time.

“These are great! Thank you,” smiled Parker as he excitedly went from present to present.

He finally moved onto the last big one, but opening it brought a face of confusion when he found something that looked like a metal rod.

“Momma? What’s this?” Parker asked. He lifted it with a heave and observed the metal ends that clicked together like Legos. Amanda’s smile broadened as her eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Okay, your last big present is… a little bigger than the others. Here,” said Amanda as she got up from the table, making sure she had her camera set to record, as she hurried out of the room and into the back bedroom and emerged with a package that was massive, even for her.

Parker’s eyes widened as he stepped over to the edge of the table and watched as his mom unveiled the final gift. The front of the box read “Snap Circuits,” which already made Parker’s eyes gleam. He enjoyed electronics and figuring out how things worked, and this seemed to be right up his alley.

“Okay, so this right here is an experiment kit. You take pieces, like the one you have over there, and hook them up to a board to understand how electricity and batteries work. If you’re going to be curious, do it safely first,” said Amanda as she slid the box just under Parker. He wasted no time in jumping down into the box to examine all of the parts and pieces.

“Woah! Mom! This is incredible!” Parker said, jaw slackened in awe.

“I thought you’d like it. Now, let’s get it unpacked and get playing with it,” smiled Amanda.

For the next three hours, the two of them clicked and set up different experiments. Amanda did make Parker read most of the instructions out loud, which was frustrating from time to time, but the end result of getting lightbulbs to glow or fans to rocket into the air was absolutely worth it.

It was a great celebration - perfect even.

Still…

There was something deep down that Parker wanted that wasn’t - couldn’t - be wrapped in paper.

~~~^*^*^~~~

Parker, for as long as he could remember, knew he was a little different. He knew he was small for his age, but there was a good reason for it.

Parvi Homunculi Syndrome.

He had it ever since he was a baby. Evidently, it was a rare condition that made him a perfectly sized human, but just significantly smaller than any other human. The condition was so rare that very few people knew about it and, therefore, not a lot of research had been done. Not even the greatest scientists in the world had answers.

There was no cure.

There was no treatment.

Not even online resources had anything significant to say about the condition except that the origin words were from Latin and that it meant “little human.”

It was final.

Parker was always going to be tiny.

He was alright with his size. In fact, he never felt like anything about him was entirely off. The child felt completely normal, but he was told by his mother that his condition kept him fragile, making the outside world a bit more dangerous for him than any other human.

It was like the people who were allergic to sunlight.

Normal, and yet not.

Parker didn’t resent that fact. He enjoyed his time with his mother and loved the time he had to explore, read, and do mostly whatever he wanted.

It was the simple fact that there was no one else like him that made him feel… lonely… from time to time.

The child knew there were kids his age, but he also knew he could never play with them because they wouldn’t know about his condition and not be careful with him. It was a precaution. It was a necessary precaution.

Still…

It didn’t stop him from feeling a bit out of place.

It was a sensation he could never quite get rid of. Everything just felt so big and some of his impulses and thoughts just felt right despite how dangerous they seemed. He remembered an instance with a paper clip and yarn he attached to one another. Parker was tired of asking his mother to lift him to the sink anytime he wanted to play in the sink or if he needed to go to the bathroom. So, he found a solution. He attached a paper clip to some yarn and threw it upward until it caught the knob on the sink drawer.

Was it dangerous to climb it?

Yes. Absolutely.

Did he do it?

Mostly - if his mom hadn’t stopped him.

Parker couldn’t explain how he knew how to climb the rope or why that seemed like the best solution, but he did it anyway.

Another time he was balancing on the edge of the nightstand drawer at the very bottom. His mom told him to be careful, but he still lost his balance and fell toward the ground. Inside of him, something told him how to twist in the air and land safely on his feet - and so he did. His mom fussed and worried over him for a week, but Parker emerged completely unscathed from the incident. He and his mother both were astounded he was alright considering the fall was the equivalent of falling from the roof of a two story building.

There were a million instances just like this, and none of them could be explained.

Nothing stopped Parker from asking questions, but all of them were explained with the condition he had; so, ultimately, he started attributing all of these odd quirks to his genetic condition.

Every once in a while, he felt like he just wanted to be like his mom - normal. But he suspected that others with this condition had the same thoughts and feelings too. Anyone who was deemed a little different probably wanted to feel normal every once in a while, whatever “normal” actually was.

Now that he was ten, Parker felt he had more questions than answers, but not all of them pertained to his instincts. Some of them were about life. There were things he knew, and there were things he didn’t know. And, for the things he didn’t know, sometimes he was afraid to ask. Whether it was natural apprehension for delving into the unknown or because he was afraid to hear the answer, Parker didn’t know.

But, what he did know was that his mom always had a hard time saying “no” to him when it was his birthday.

Now was his one day out of the year where he felt like he could summon the courage to ask some really tough questions.

And this time he was going to do it.

So, after a healthy helping of cake and a movie of his choosing, Parker played with his plate of mostly icing and crumbs as he cleared his throat. His heart was pounding hollowly, but he wouldn’t shy away from his questions today. He had already done so far too many times.

“Um… momma?” asked Parker, gaining his mother’s attention.

“Yes, sweetie?” Amanda asked as she turned off the television and flicked on the nearby lamp.

“Could… um… could I ask you a question? And you not get mad?” Parker asked. Amanda’s body position changed immediately as she faced him, which made his mouth dry.

“Parker, when have I gotten mad when you’ve asked a question? You can always ask me anything and I’ll answer as best as I can. Is something wrong?” His mom’s concern was evident in her signature “mom” tone. It made Parker smile as he heard it. He knew the question came off a bit wrong by asking her not to get mad, but it just sort of slipped out.

“I… I know. I’m okay. You don’t get mad. I just… I just know some questions you… don’t like,” said Parker. His mom’s body stiffened ever so slightly as if she knew the question to come, but she nodded with conviction.

“Parker, you can always ask me anything,” said his mom.

It was enough to get the ball rolling.

“Well… with my… condition… will I get a chance to invite friends over for my birthday?” Parker asked. He knew what the answer would be, but he wanted to ask anyway.

“Parker, I wish I knew the answer to that question. I would love it if you could go out and make some friends like any other kid, but you’re special. Everything here is to help and protect you, sweetie, which I know is hard,” said his mom.

“But, maybe, if we could go to the park together, you can help explain everything and…”

“And kids your age aren’t always as careful as you. They don’t listen as well as you, Parker,” said his mom. Parker drew his legs up to his chest and picked at the lump of icing on his plate.

“Then… could I maybe call friends one day?” he asked. “Like… if you find someone who has a kid who will be careful, and we can play games online or call on the phone and stuff?”

At this suggestion, Amanda perked up.

“Yes, I think I can figure something out. I want you to have friends to play games with. I’ll see what we can do. Yeah? For your birthday, I’ll do this,” suggested Amanda. Parker smiled and nodded vigorously.

“Yeah, yeah! I mean… yes, please,” said Parker. Already, his heart was feeling lighter with the answers he was given.

“Anything else?” asked his mom, her eyes luring out more questions that had been lingering in the corners of the child’s mind.

“Um… I… guess… could… I mean… I love reading, but…” Parker’s next request was a bold one, but it tied into his first desire of meeting other people. He gulped and spat out his desire before he lost his nerve. “I want to go to school.”

His request lingered there for a moment before he saw his mom nodding.

“I know. I’ve seen it for a while now. I know I can only teach you so much, and you probably want to make friends with your classmates too, huh?” asked his mom. Parker nodded sheepishly.

“Yes momma,” he replied.

Amanda sighed, knowing this day would come.

“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. I don’t know about this season, but I’m sure I can get some tests done and have you placed in the fall. Okay? Mind you, it will probably have to be virtual, like how I go to work sometimes. You’ll be able to see and talk to others, but going physically to school might be tricky. Okay?”

It didn’t matter that he had to stay at home. He would get to interact virtually, which was a start.

“Well then, birthday boy, any other questions and requests?”

There was one other thing…

It weighed on Parker, and he wasn’t even sure if he could articulate what he needed or wanted. It was more of the curiosity and the unknown that captured his focus.

“Um… there was… one other thing.”

“Okay. I’m all ears,” said his mom.

“I… well… I was just… wondering… about dad.”

The word left the air feeling charged and static. It took a good thirty seconds for his mom to respond.

“What were you wondering about?”

It was a legitimate question, and Parker honestly didn’t know if he would get this far.

“Um… just… I don’t know. I guess… why he missed my birthday? Why he’s not here? I… see in the shows and movies and stuff that there’s a mom and a dad, and he’s not here,” said Parker. His questions were earnest and meant in innocence and sincerity, which made it all the more bitter for Amanda.

She often left her ex-husband out of all conversation and discussion. Parker had absently asked a few times in the past about him, but now there was a deliberate question about his existence and presence - or lack thereof. Amanda had to take a few deep breaths as she formulated the right words.

She had already thought about these words a while ago, and while she knew Parker would ask her one day about the truth of his size and origin, she didn’t want to shatter his reality here and now.

Not on his birthday.

Maybe not ever.

Everything she said was the truth - but the bitter lying by omission burned her tongue and made her squirm.

“My… husband… he would have been your dad… he left when you were just a baby. He and I… we didn’t get along. We had our arguments and decided it would be best to split - divorce,” explained Amanda as carefully as she could. “I know he would have loved you if he got to know you, Parker, but at the time we made decisions that we thought were best for us, even though that might feel wrong now.”

Parker listened to his mother’s explanation intently. She had never given him so much information all at once.

It still left questions.

Did his dad not love him? Did he not want to try and get to know him?

What did he do wrong?

“Is… is it because of me?” asked Parker. He had asked the question before he had a chance to second guess himself.

Immediately, Amanda leaned over and rested her fingers beside him. Parker wasn’t sure why, but a momentary instinct told him to flinch away at the approaching fingers that he knew and loved. He stood his ground, but the impulse was an odd one. As fast as it came, it went, leaving Parker feeling confused. His mom’s voice brought him back to their conversation.

“Parker, you listen to me. It is not because of you. Do not even think that for a second. We made the best decisions we could in the moment. They may feel wrong now, but we didn’t know that at the time,” said Amanda reassuringly. “You are so loved, Parker. Don’t you forget that.”

Parker looked up into his mother’s features and saw there were tears in her eyes. His eyes started to burn seeing the conviction and passion in his mother’s gaze. He wanted nothing more than to take back his last question.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad,” said Parker as he leaned over and hugged his mother’s fingers, practically wrapping his whole body around them.

“No, Parker. You didn’t make me sad. I’m just sorry I can’t give you everything you want and need. I hope you know none of that is because of you,” said Amanda.

“I know. I know. Don’t cry momma,” said Parker over and over again. Ever so carefully, Amanda rotated her hand and scooped up the small child to hold him to her chest. His little fingers grasped at the fibers on her shirt as he turned and faced her. She could hear his little voice apologizing, but she reassured him that there was nothing to apologize for.

In fact, she was surprised things were going as well as this. She always feared these questions when Parker asked. She feared the day if and when he would question who she was to him.

She was his mom.

But not his mother.

She didn’t carry him or birth him, but she was there to nurture and teach him as if she did.

The difference didn’t matter to Amanda because Parker was her son. She would protect him and love him with everything she was. It was sad she didn’t have all of the answers he wanted. He deserved the truth; but how could she tell him what she didn’t know?

All she could do is tell him the truth as best as she could, even as the difficult questions sat poised on the edge ready to strike at any moment. It made her feel anxious and sick, dreading what might not ever come to pass.

Perhaps that day will never come, Amanda prayed as she held Parker closer.

When the two of them had taken a few deep breaths and felt the air clear, Parker asked to go back to playing with his toys. It was still his birthday so, despite it being his bedtime, Amanda allowed him to stay awake and to play with his toys for just a little longer.

It was his birthday after all.

Parker proceeded to build three more constructions from his book before his eyes could no longer be held open. He needed sleep, and his mom knew it. She took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth and a quick bath before the two of them went to sleep.

As Parker drifted off in his bed in his room, he stared up at the edge of his mom’s massive bed and called, “I love you, momma.”

“I love you, Parker. I love you so very much.”

Parker curled into his bed and smiled.

What a fun birthday….

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

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narrans · 1 month

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Hey there tall, small, and in the walls!

There are only a few more days left if you are interested in submitting your audio recordings. I'm absolutely blown out of the water by how many people came out to participate and want to thank everyone who was already submitted their auditions/lines.

If you are interested! Please DM me here or on any of my social media platforms.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome! ~Narrans

Greetings and salutations tall, small, and in the walls!

After evaluating the results of the poll, the winner is actually a TIE between The Orion’s Factotum and Moving Through Life for the audiobook.

Now!

With it being a tie, I have decided to do Moving Through Life ONLY BECAUSE I NEED YOUR HELP.

For The Orion’s Factotum, I want it to be a special project and I could think of nothing better than to involve you - the g/t community.

So, I am doing a CALL FOR SUBMISSIONS for audiobook readers. This is completely voluntary and just something fun if you would like to participate in creating an audiobook with me.

If you would like to voice one of the many characters and be involved in the project, DM me and I will send you the link to all of the divided up lines. If you can perform an English accent, bonus points to you!

This community has always been so fun and amazing and I hope you’re as excited and nervous as me to see where this project takes us.

Cheers and, as always, stay awesome

~Narrans

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narrans · 1 month

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My Borrowed Son | 9 | ABCs and Wearable Things

Chapter Nine | ABCs and Wearable Things

If Amanda was being honest, this wasn’t the craziest thing she had done. Threading a needle to make her adopted two-inch tall child clothes definitely wasn’t the craziest thing she had done. She bit her lower lip in concentration as the thread slipped through the needle’s eye.

Amanda thought gluing the fabric might be easier, but her trials proved less fruitful than she wanted. The edges tore away too easily and absorbed into the fabric if she didn’t coat a certain amount; and at that point, she might as well glue the whole thing together. So, Amanda thought – knew – he was worth it. He couldn’t wear togas forever.

After hours of scouring the internet, Amanda could find nothing easily accessible too buy to clothe parker. She had found someone on Etsy who would custom make doll clothes for any size, but even he was surprised when Amanda asked for a one inch shirt and one inch pants.

In all reality, this was easier than trying to explain to a stranger the dimensions she needed for Parker’s clothes. Hours of work produced a dozen shirts and about the same amount of pants which Amanda had stitched together.

She found folding the cloth and cutting the pattern was the easiest. Making things a little bigger not only helped make the clothes, but it also made Parker look that much cuter. It also gave her safety pin harness more room when he wanted to explore.

Ever since the park incident, Amanda tried keeping Parker safety pinned when he was just out and about without her watching. It wasn’t all of the time. It was just when they went outside or if Amanda had to step away from the couch or the kitchen counter. He was becoming more adventurous by the day, and Amanda already had a few close calls with him nearly falling off of extremely tall heights that might injure him.

It felt like those parents who put the monkey backpack leash on their kids, which made Amanda feel absolutely sick, but she had few other choices if she wanted to step away and not leave him in his box or unsupervised.

She didn’t use it frequently, but she did use it for safety when she couldn’t always have her eyes on her adopted son. After all, what kind of life would it be if he had to stay in his box for the rest of his life.

His box, at least, was something Amanda was quite proud of now.

Parker’s room, as Amanda was now referring it, had push lights Parker could control as well as a proper bed, comforter, and pillow Amanda sewed. No more washcloth beds for the tiny boy. There was even an old matchbox she used as a bedframe, and she started folding paper clips to hold his clothes up on the string she put in there.

Parker had a bell to signal when he wanted something until Amanda installed a baby monitor so she could hear him. Amanda was enjoying setting up Parker’s room. She even gave him a chance to pick out his own “trim,” which was just colorful duct tape, and the colors of his walls, which he wanted to be a light blue with cloud themed tape.

It was precious and reminded Amanda of Andy’s room from Toy Story. A few toys and even a soft crochet blanket and rug later made Parker’s room actually feel like the room of a little boy.

Seven months and he finally had a proper room.

Seven months and he finally had a relatively decent wardrobe with a change of clothes.

Amanda let her hands rest in her lap as she glanced over into Parker’s box. He was playing with some miniature Tinker Toys Amanda had found online, and he was loving them. Amanda chuckled as she watched him play, amused by his nearly imperceptible babblings.

Had time really gone so fast?

She gazed down at him and noticed how long his hair had gotten and how he seemed just a little bit taller when he stood. His mind absorbed all of the information she gave him, and still he wanted more, which she happily provided.

He was growing up so fast, and everything felt normal. Despite their differences in size, Amanda felt as though there were no true difference between her and Parker. Seven months had taught her that much.

Amanda decided, after another twenty or so minutes, that she should get lunch started. Rather than just pick up Parker in his room and bring him with her, she decided to ask and offer him a choice. He was old enough to make choices after all.

“Parker? I’m sorry to interrupt but are you ready for lunch?” asked Amanda. Parker turned his soft brown eyes toward Amanda and nodded eagerly, the Tinker Toys in his hands as he continued to put the pieces together.

“Yes, momma,” he said as he finished fitting the pieces together and then standing up expectantly, raising his hands for her to pick him up. “Up?” It made Amanda’s heart melt.

“You want to come with me?” she asked. Parker nodded and grabbed with his fingers. “Use your words.”

“Could… yes momma. Could I go… um… go with you to… um… make lunch?” Parker’s adorable little “ums” as he pieces the words together quickly into fully coherent sentences was absolutely astounding. He was learning so fast every single day. She wanted to pat herself on the back for guiding him to use manners and proper words, but that wasn’t what parenting was about.

It was about teaching Parker to be a polite young man. He was her son after all.

“Yes, you may,” said Amanda as she lowered her hand into his room and he stepped on, grabbing one of his toys before he did. The two of them went to the kitchen where Amanda placed Parker on the counter next to the bread box. He knew where he was and was not supposed to go, but Amanda insisted on strapping the safety pin harness to the back of his shirt and pants

“Mom? Momma? Why… why do I need to wear this?” asked Parker. It was a question he had asked a million times as Amanda finished attaching the safety pin.

“Remember Parker?” asked Amanda. “It’s for safety. The countertop is very high, and if you fell you would get hurt. I don’t want you to get hurt.” It wasn’t the first time Amanda needed to explain this to Parker. He knew the reason. Still, he always seemed a little anxious when Amanda attached him to the line.

“Oh, okay!” Parker said as he sat down and began singing the alphabet song while Amanda crunched up some chips and made them both sandwiches. He was on his third time through when his little voice piped up. “Momma? Could… um… could we pway the afabet game?”

The alphabet game was something Amanda had seen online for young children. It was when you asked what sounds the letters made or what letter made what sound. The game also proposed, for advanced children, what words had the letter in them.

It wasn’t something that Amanda didn’t think a young child would be particularly interested in, and she only started integrating it to educate Parker; however, the more he learned and the more she read to him, the more he wanted to play the game.

The question made her heart swell with pride.

“Of course, Parker. Are you ready?” asked Amanda.

“Yes, momma,” said Parker. He placed his toy on the ground and looked up at her eagerly.

“Okay, what letter makes the ‘mmm’ sound?” Amanda asked.

“M!” replied the small child without hesitation.

“Good job! What about the ‘p’ sound?” asked Amanda, making it sound like a little puff of air.

“P!”

“Good job, Parker. You’re so smart.”

The two of them continued all the way through the alphabet, pausing only when Parker had trouble with some of the letters that had the same sounding letters like “i” and “e” and “c/k”. Amanda rewarded Parker with a little piece of chocolate and a promise they would continue the game once Parker finished his food and washed his hands.

True to her word, they continued playing when Parker finished his meal and insisted on washing his hands immediately. He asked when they could read and when they could play Sneak and Peak again, to which Amanda promised they would while she did some chores around the house.

At one point, Amanda began asking how to spell different words. They were simple, like door and cat, but he was sharp enough to sound out the letters. They sat and colored and drew out the letters for hours until dinner. It took everything in Amanda to tell him they needed to get ready for bed at the end of the night.

It almost resorted in tears, but Amanda reasoned with Parker that they could keep playing during bathtime and until they fell asleep, to which the toddler agreed.

Never before did Amanda know a toddler who was so adamant about playing learning games. He was hungry for knowledge, and Amanda would not deny him.

As Amanda laid down and drifted off to sleep with Parker learning how to spell “bed,” she knew what she wanted to get him. He needed some little books and pencils to write with as well as some workbooks. It would take some ingenuity, but ideas were forming in Amanda’s head.

She also needed some ideas for his birthday; or, rather, the day she found him. In the blink of an eye, she knew it would be upon her. The mother’s last thought before she drifted off to sleep was how time was moving way too fast and that, very soon, Parker would be five. When was his birthday? And had it really almost been a year?

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

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