Tom tiptoed forward across the bumpy terrain of the woolen rug, conscious of every step and half-praying that his miniscule footsteps would simply sink away into the plush fabric and be lost. Creeping over the curled wooden slat that formed a support for the towering kitchen table, he held his breath, hoping to make as little sound as possible as he advanced on the gently tapping toes of his older sister. There was plenty of auditory cover from above, where his normal-sized family was eating dinner to a clanking choir of utensils against glass plates and cups of milk being sloshed back and forth from lips to table, but he still wanted to be sure.
He was close now. Alaina’s bare foot, at least freshly washed from her shower a few minutes before and scented lightly of lilacs, bounced gently against the lump of crumby cornbread that had been deposited under the table for the four-inch-tall member of the Baker family to eat. Like a monstrous dragon guarding its prey. Her big toe played lightly with the bready ball: stamping the spiraled imprint of her toe into it, rolling it back and forth from end to end of her peachy digit, even mashing it down into more of a disk shape, which Tom supposed was a benefit. It wouldn’t be able to move as fast in that kind of geometry, and he might finally be able to catch up and eat it.
Nevertheless, he’d apparently taken too long to make his move, or maybe his older sister had simply cheated at the game his truthful siblings had devised long ago for him to endure while meals took place, because with a flick of the toe Tom’s dinner was hurled across the rug to the opposite end of the table.
Snapping his fingers in frustration, the liar swiveled back around, eyes darting around the pillars that formed the table’s legs, and groaned to realize the cornbread had rolled to Blake’s side of the table and come to a stop right in front of his absentmindedly bobbing big toe.
His brother, easily the most physically imposing member of the family, never more than now, seemed to hold still for a moment until Tom began to creep toward his menacing feet where they rested. It was a small blessing to see the eldest Baker child’s peds weren’t encased in his football cleats like they so often were; if that was the case, Tom’s morsel would probably end up with more than a few granules of field turf embedded in it, not to mention the distinctive impression of Blake’s treaded spikes after he’d mashed the food down beneath his heel. This always necessitated picking out the artificial gunk before chowing down to avoid accidentally eating some foreign bit of rubber. Which Tom didn’t especially appreciate, because he was generally pretty hungry and ready to scarf by the time he’d finally won the game of dinner-soccer. However, the titanic eighteen-year-old’s feet were out instead, and luckily recently cleansed as well after a particularly taxing scrimmage on the gridiron after school. Another small blessing.
Unfortunately, Tom realized a little late that his gargantuan brother was probably just pranking him on to have held still this long, because before the boy could reach out and snatch his tainted bread, the enormous foot lurched to life. The big toe rose and smacked into Tom’s stomach, nearly winding him as he was flung backward a few paces onto his face. Tackling certainly was something Blake knew inside and out, given his extracurricular activities.
Before the shrunken liar could recover and make another lunge, though, he looked up with dismay to realize his brother had rolled the yellow lump under his sole and flattened it down against the rug.
Great. No way a few added flavors weren’t getting in that way. At least it would smell semi-edible considering the musky body spray his sibling utilized at a frequency as though it would defend against all the world’s diseases.
When the big grunt had lifted it back up, the ovular remains clung to his swollen skin for just a moment before peeling away from the slope of his instep and flopping onto the carpet, seemingly with a stray hair caught inside. Tom considered dashing under the shadow of Blake’s foot to try and grab his dinner, but instead resolved it was best to wait it out for another penalty kick.
And sure enough, Blake’s mighty appendage reared back like a pendulum and swung forward to make mulching contact with the cornbread ball. It soared far over Tom’s head off to the side and bounced into Emma’s knee before finally plummeting down and landing with a splat atop her bare foot. Loose crumbs sprayed every which way, though there was still plenty of bread left to make a grab for it worthwhile.
Emma’s aquamarine-painted toes bounced merrily in her tiny brother’s sight, encouraging him to attempt the heist of his meal away from her. She was careful not to jostle her leg, as she was apparently trying to keep the food balanced on the smooth curve atop her bus-sized ped to entice Tom to crawl atop it and retrieve his reward. Not unusual for her, and it wasn’t particularly attractive an offer considering she was the only sibling not to have showered after school due to a lack of a tennis match, but at least it was Emma. Tom knew he’d at last get to eat, but of course he’d have to appease her first with a little game within the game.
She didn’t make the climb easy. The girl held still as Tom gingerly placed a foot atop his little sister’s powerful pinky toe, easily strong enough to buck him off with a single flick, but the boy suspected this was just so he wouldn’t give up immediately. Emma was a tough but fair playmate when he was this size, which he appreciated, because it was more than could be said for his two older siblings, who more just focused on the “tough” aspect while forgoing the “fair.” Once he had a strong center of balance atop the colorful shell of Emma’s nailbed, he shifted his entire weight onto the cushy row of her toes and began the ascent.
It wasn’t a steep climb, at least, given that Emma’s foot was mercifully flat on the ground right now and Tom himself wasn’t down at one of his more infamous micro statures. Those particular occasions helped give him some perspective, because his little sister took great delight in carefully plucking the delicate quarter-inch body of her sibling up between a couple of carefully poised fingernails and depositing him onto the summit of her foot, forcing him to make the hike down along her glowing skin to reach solid ground again. At least she’d usually have the decency not to rattle an earthquake through her skin at those times, but it still was a task not to be taken lightly, as even the minor speed bumps of the soft veins beneath her skin made the terrain more challenging.
Hand over hand he went, pressing his limbs into the plush flesh like he knew Emma wanted, and suddenly felt the vibrations begin, inevitable as they were. He struggled to keep aligned with the center, where it would be easiest to avoid sliding down to the side and having to start again. However, just as he was within grabbing distance of his precious food, his sister made her move, jolting her foot hard enough that Tom managed to stay on by cowering but was too slow to save his dinner.
The cornbread slid swiftly down the pale slope of her foot and became wedged between her big and second toes, where she immediately mashed it down into an even purer sludge of crumbs and matted meal than when Blake had trampled it under his sole. She immediately got to work pinching Tom’s dinner between each worming digit, carefully dividing the stuff up so that each toe had an equal amount mashed across its skin. The commotion quickly caused the shrunken liar to roll down the soft hill of Emma’s foot and ramp off her bouncing toes back onto the carpet.
By the time he’d pulled himself up and recovered, what had previously more-or-less resembled a piece of cornbread even after Alaina and Blake were through stomping it, was now not much more than a mushy pulp, continually being squelched into the girl’s reeking digits.
“Coooome and get it, little brother,” Emma giggled from on high. She extended a hand below the surface of the table, beckoning him with a curled finger and then pointing down at her awaiting peds again. “Nice and hot. Just how you like it.”