Callie vs. the Minimalist Mini by It Was Me
As she closed her apartment door behind her, Callie leaned her back
against it.
Her navy blue
backpack dropped with a heavy thud to the side, and she slowly slid
down to the shabby linoleum-tiled floor. The black fabric of her
baggy sweatpants cushioned the impact as her butt met the cold hard
floor. Her face was hidden behind trembling fingers, their
well-manicured tips protruding through disheveled honey-blonde bangs
as the base of her palms rested on the tip of her petite chin.
Mondays were always
the worst for Callie, at least they had been since the start of the
spring semester. Wednesdays and Fridays weren’t really any
different from the start of the week, but that extra day off that the
weekends provided gave her a false sense of relief, one that was
shattered every Sunday evening and replaced by the dread of knowing
what she would have to face again the following afternoon.
And now here she
was again, trying to hide her shame from the world while sitting just
barely inside her dingy old apartment.
These are
supposed to be the best years of your life, Callie,
she thought to herself. How could you let them turn into
this?
Callie gave a long,
deliberate exhale as she dropped her hands and tilted her head back,
dark golden tresses leaking from underneath the hood of her light
gray sweatshirt as they pooled atop her shoulders. She blinked tears
from her eyes as her gaze fell upon the worn gray countertop of her
kitchen.
And then she froze.
Dangling from the
top of the counter to the floor was a piece of thread, attached at
its highest point to a small makeshift hook made from a paperclip
lodged into the crevice of a slightly ajar drawer. But it was less
the presence of the odd combination hanging from her counter and more
the fact that she didn’t even own a paperclip, let alone take the
time to tie one to thread and hook it there, that bothered her so
much.
Someone was fucking
with her.
For the past week,
Callie had noticed small things that were out of place in her
apartment. Food crumbs randomly spread along the counter one day and
holes ripped into a bag of bread on that same counter the next. She
also thought she noticed pens and other small items moved about on
the desk in her room and the living room coffee table, but it was
hard to tell with such negligible things.
But this, this was
anything but negligible. Up until that point, she was convinced that
she had a rat problem or something like that. Rats don’t tie thread
and paperclips together, though. Someone had been in her apartment.
Or maybe they were
still there.
As soon as the
thought occurred to Callie, she was on her feet and rushing into the
kitchen. Hands shaking, she opened a nearby drawer and pulled out a
large butcher knife, part of a set in a still unused
apartment-warming gift from her parents.
“Alright fucker!”
she yelled, holding the knife in front of her, the blade guiding her
as she slowly started to move about the apartment with cautiously
wandering eyes. “If you’re still in here, come out now and you
can leave. Otherwise, you’re gettin’ stabbed!”
For the next twenty
minutes, Callie intensely searched her home. Despite the bravado with
which she spoke, she really hoped no one would show themselves. After
all, given her soft, friendly nature, she wasn’t sure if she was
capable of actually following through on her threat.
After thoroughly
investigating the apartment, she was satisfied that whatever creeper
was fucking with her had long since left. Noting the time, she
quickly changed her clothes and left for work, realizing that she had
just enough time to avoid being late for her shift.
She tried to put the
incident out of her mind but made sure to lock the door after leaving
the apartment.
********
Callie returned to
her apartment four-and-a-half hours later, finally feeling a bit
better about the whole ordeal. In fact, she was starting to wonder if
she had overreacted just a little bit when she noticed, once again,
that something was different in the kitchen.
There, waiting for
her on the card table that served as her dining room table, Callie
spied a roughly ripped sliver of notebook paper, likely torn from a
much larger page.
She picked up the
clearly impromptu note, holding it before her eyes with either side
being secured between her respective thumbs and forefingers.
Squinting, she was just able to make out the message, clearly
scribbled in messy haste and uncommonly small:
Sorry for scare.
Not intent.
Callie
took in the lettering, about half the size of a finger nail’s-width,
unsure what to make of it. She had so many questions: Who had left
the note there? By scare, did they mean the paperclip and thread?
What even was their intent, then?
But
before she could consider the answers to those questions, a quiet,
almost inaudible noise resembling a light wrapping on metal directed
her attention to the kitchen counter that lay beyond the other side
of the table.
Callie’s
attention was immediately drawn to the microwave sitting near the end
of the counter, or rather, who was standing near its back end.
Greatly dwarfed by the appliance, not even measuring a quarter of its
height, was a man dressed in the tattered ensemble of a t-shirt,
shorts, and sneakers, their long-faded colors hard to discern from a
distance through the layer of grime and dirt covering them.
The
two locked eyes, hers filled with surprise and wonder and his with
hesitation and worry. This stalemate wouldn’t last, however, as
Callie’s instincts took over.
Without
thinking, she swiftly moved around the table, making a beeline for
the little guest occupying her countertop. While the man was slightly
slower to break from his trance, he recovered quickly, scampering
behind the microwave before she could reach him.
Callie’s
hip crashed into the countertop clumsily as she reached her
destination. She shifted the microwave to the side just in time to
see the shoes of the man disappear through the semi-circular hole in
the wall that she was using the appliance to hide.
With
him gone, rational thought soon returned to her, and she instantly
regretted her rash actions.
“Wait!”
she cried.
But
Callie’s plea came too late, and the miniature man was already well
within the walls of her apartment. She apologized profusely as she
addressed the wall, upset with herself for scaring him off.
Rather
than dwell on her mistake, however, she instead made her way to her
room, where she grabbed her laptop and laid on her bed, suddenly
eager to do a bit of research for once.
********
As it turned out,
the internet had startlingly little information about tiny people, at
least ones that weren’t considered fictional. Still, Callie
absorbed anything on the subject that she could find, hoping that
some of it might be relevant to understanding the tiny tenant
wandering within her walls.
A night’s worth of
researching left her rather groggy after waking up from two hours of
sleep late into the morning. Having slept through her alarm, she
rushed to dress herself in shorts and a fashionable blouse, attire
much more appropriate for the Southwestern climate of the area.
Before running off
to her first class of the day, for which she would surely be late,
Callie grabbed a granola bar from one of her kitchen cabinets. As she
passed by the hole in the kitchen wall, she stopped. After a few
seconds of thought, she broke a corner off of the bar and left it
directly in front of the hole before making her way to class.
********
After
getting through her back-to-back Tuesday classes and returning home,
Callie was elated to discover that the piece of granola she had left
in front of the hole was gone. She approached the small opening,
leaning over and resting her lower abdomen and elbows on the
countertop, her chin cupped in her open palms.
"Hi,
I'm Callie," she said. "I just wanted to apologize again
for yesterday. It was pretty shitty of me, and I'm not even sure why
I did that."
From
there, the social butterfly within Callie took over. She cheerily
recapped her day to the hole in the wall. Occasionally, she would ask
a question to the man she hoped was listening, but no response ever
came. Still, she thought it would be rude to drone on about herself
without at least giving him a chance to join in the conversation.
Eventually,
she made herself some ramen for dinner, leaving a few noodles on a
plate near the hole. After finishing her meal, she went about her
usual night-off
routine of studying and relaxing, taking a minute to speak to her
hidden guest from time to time.
And
Callie continued incorporating him into her day the next morning. She
would speak to him and leave him food between her spread-out
Wednesday class schedule. But the diminutive dude hanging out in her
walls still didn't seem to be comfortable enough to reveal himself.
Thinking
about the poor guy even helped distract her as she endured yet
another Wednesday afternoon. Even though it still filled her
with a sense of both disgust and self-loathing, she manged to perk
herself up afterward at the thought of maybe getting the chance to
make a better impression.
Of
course, the pint-sized person was nowhere to be found when she
returned home, although he had once again accepted her food offering.
Undeterred, Callie swore to herself that she would find a way to
break the ice with him.
While
getting ready for her second work day of the week, an idea struck
her. She grabbed a post-it note and broke off as tiny a piece of
graphite as she could from one of her mechanical pencils, setting the
two writing tools in front of the hole and next to a plate with a
slice of cheap reheated pizza.
"Well,
I'm off to work," Callie announced before walking out the door.
"The place is yours for, like, the next four hours.
"No
parties!"
She
giggled at her
little joke
as she left, preparing herself for her next shift in
retail hell.
********
Her shift having
left her exhausted, Callie lumbered through the entrance to her
apartment. Between classes and work, she was ready to call it an
early night. However, that fatigue melted away as she moved into the
kitchen.
It didn’t take her
long to remember that she had left the little man tools with which to
communicate with her indirectly. Checking the countertop, she quickly
realized that he had made use of them.
The lettering was
slightly larger and much more crisp this time around, and it appeared
as though his diction had expanded upon being told just how much time
he had to compose this new letter.
Callie,
Thanks for the
food and conversation. It means a lot, and I really appreciate it.
Your tiny
neighbor,
Duncan
P.S. No parties,
but I did have a “get together” with Tom Thumb, Thumbelina,
Jiminy Cricket, and Daniel Radcliffe. I hope that’s okay?
Callie felt her lips
curl almost autonomously into a genuine smile.
“Anytime!” she
beamed, aiming her excitement at the hole in her kitchen wall. “And
let me know the next time you have one of these ‘get togethers.’
I’d hate to accidentally step on Harry!”
********
“Duncan?” Callie
called out. “Do you think you might wanna come out and talk
tonight?”
She stepped toward
the kitchen table, the hem of her short denim skirt settling
mid-thigh on her. She had paired the skirt with a stylish white
off-shoulder ruffle-trim blouse with short sleeves.
Although it was
normal for Callie to up her fashion game on Thursdays, as she would
hit the bars in an effort to forget about having to deal with her
least favorite class one final time for the week the following day,
this time was different. This time, she wanted to make a good
impression on, or at least appear as non-threatening as possible to,
one particular person.
After Duncan reached
out to her the previous night, she decided that now was the time to
try and have a real conversation with him. She had once again added
him to her daily routine from the morning to evening time, and now
she would try to coax him to come out into the open.
The first step was
to reassure him that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last time
the two had met face-to-face.
“Sorry again for
lunging at you the other day,” Callie said. “It’s just that I
saw you and I, uh, I wasn’t ready for it, I guess?
“Like, my first
instinct was to grab you to see if you were real.”
A quick glance
toward the hole in the wall showed no signs of movement. But she
didn’t expect this to be easy.
“But I’m ready
now,” Callie said. “If you decide to come out, there’ll be no
grabbing this time.
“I’ll keep my
hands to myself. Promise.”
She still didn’t
notice any activity coming from the hole. She gave a slight sigh, but
remained optimistic.
“But yeah, it’d
be cool if we could talk,” Callie said.
She was about to
continue but was startled by a small noise, sounding oddly like a
very faint clearing of someone’s throat, coming from below her on
the table. Looking down, she saw the tiny guy emerge from behind her
saltshaker.
He had scruffy brown
hair and a scraggly beard of the same color. Callie could now see
that, through the dirt that covered him, his shirt and shorts, ripped
and torn all over, were originally white and black, respectively.
He craned his neck
upward before Callie heard his voice for the first time.
“I was kind of
thinking the same thing,” he said.
********
From the moment he
stepped out from behind the saltshaker, Duncan was second-guessing
his decision.
After all, it wasn’t
as though this was his first encounter with giants. Well, technically
everything and everyone else was normal-sized and he was tiny, but
such distinctions didn’t really matter to him. Perspective is king,
and from where he was standing, he was just a regular guy stuck in a
giant world.
“Wow,” Callie’s
powerfully deep yet distinctly feminine and slightly pitchy voice
echoed all around him.
Her right hand came
for Duncan as though it had a mind of its own, her awed gaze never
breaking from his small form, almost staring right through him. As
her long, delicate fingers reached the midpoint between their massive
mistress and tiny target, he took a couple cautious steps backward,
stopping only when his back met his former hiding place.
He tried to say
something, anything really, but his voice caught in his throat. No
protests came out of his mouth, nor did any begging, pleading, or
defiant cursing. Instead, he was frozen in fear as he leaned against
the saltshaker, questioning why he ever thought this was a good idea.
Upon seeing this
reaction, however, Callie’s eyes widened with recognition, and her
hand stopped abruptly.
“Shit, sorry!”
she said, pulling it back swiftly. “Caught me by surprise again.
For real though, I’m not gonna get grabby. See?”
The giantess laid
her hands at the edge of the table. Her lengthy digits splayed
slightly as she gently pushed off against the surface. The legs of
her chair screeched loudly against laminate tile flooring as they
retreated, coming to rest once its occupant’s towering torso was
slightly less than a foot away from the table.
Callie’s hands
laid atop one another, right over left, on the tabletop directly in
front of her. Then, her upper body folded, her breasts leading the
way like perky teardrops as they fell from view under the table’s
edge. Her movements reminded Duncan of an old drawbridge he used to
see everyday near one of his childhood homes.
As her chin came to
rest atop the knuckles of her right hand, the titaness gave the tiny
man her most reassuring smile.
“There,” Callie
said. “And I should be able to hear you better like this, too. You
came off kinda quiet when I was sitting up.”
For a moment, the
two of them just stared at one another in uncertain silence. Callie’s
eyes, nebulous waves of green and reddish-brown crashing against each
other in perfect symmetry on either side, zeroed in on him with a
gentle intensity as she studied him intently from her closer
perspective.
Duncan momentarily
lost himself in their radiance as they reflected the florescent
lighting of the uncovered bulb swinging softly high above the table
with an elegant brilliance. Mercifully, Callie broke the stalemate
first, ending the trance she had unknowingly placed him in.
“So,” she began,
“are you, like, a borrower or something?”
Duncan’s face
scrunched in confusion.
“No?” he
answered. “The fuck’s a borrower?”
Duncan
found his attention drawn to just below Callie's cute, slightly
upturned nose, where her lusciously plump lips, lightly glazed in
pink gloss and each noticeably thicker than one of his legs, were
curved in a contemplative frown.
“They’re little
people that live in walls and steal food and stuff from us big
people,” she said, before mumbling, “at least that’s what
Wikipedia says.”
Duncan nodded along
with Callie’s words.
“Oh,” he said.
“Shit, I guess I am one then. I didn’t realize they had a word
for that.
“Wait, does that
mean there are other people stuck like this, too?”
Callie
shrugged her shoulders, the exposed pale skin of their tops visible
to Duncan through waterfalls of honey tresses ending in enticing
pools of dark gold on either side of her chin.
“I don’t think
so,” she said. “Google didn’t show anything about real little
people, and I never really watched the movies or read the books about
borrowers when I was a kid, so I don’t even know if you guys are
supposed to travel in packs or whatever.”
It took a few
seconds for the meaning behind Callie’s words to sink in for
Duncan.
“Books? Movies?!”
he asked. “Did you just ask if I was a fictional character?!”
Callie rushed to
defend herself against the little man’s incredulity.
“At least I didn’t
admit to being one,” she muttered. “Besides, what was I supposed
to think? It’s not like tiny little people are a thing. Usually. So
when one starts climbing out of my walls, I’ve gotta think outside
the box, ya know?”
Before Duncan could
respond, Callie spoke once again.
“Hold up,” she
said slowly. “You said ‘stuck like this.’ Does that mean you
haven’t always been so … short?”
This time, Duncan
was quick to answer.
“I was
normal-sized until about six months ago,” he explained. “I shrank
on my girlfriend’s doorstep, right in front of her eyes.
“Or ex-girlfriend,
I should say.”
Callie cringed
slightly at the word ex-girlfriend.
“You guys broke
up?” she asked.
Duncan chuckled
derisively in response.
“Not officially, I
guess,” he said with a hint of bitterness. “But nothing says
‘it’s over’ quite like having to pick a pad lock with a piece
of hamster bedding to escape the cage they put you in.”
Callie’s eyes went
wide. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out at first.
After a moment’s hesitation, she finally spoke up.
“So you can pick
locks?” she asked awkwardly. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
For the first time
since revealing himself, Duncan exchanged his nervous, guarded
expression for a wry grin.
“I had a pretty
fun childhood,” he replied.
Callie giggled at
his answer.
“I’ll bet you
did,” she said, pausing for a minute after her laughter subsided.
“But seriously,
she put you in a damn cage?”
Duncan’s smile
quickly vanished.
“Yeah,” he
answered solemnly. “You know, my first thought after shrinking,
after I got over the panic attack and my head cleared a little, was
‘Thank God Kristie’s here.’ We had been going out for a little
over a year when it happened, and she was the only person I really
trusted. I felt lucky. I felt safe.”
Duncan swallowed
hard, fighting to hold back the tears building up behind his eyes.
“And then she …
she ...”
Duncan went quiet,
staring blankly down at the tabletop in front of him as his back slid
down the length of the salt shaker.
“Is it … is it
okay is if I don’t talk about her?” he finally asked, his voice
barely a whisper.
The question earned
a quizzical frown from Callie.
“Of course,” she
said. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.
You know that, right?”
Without looking up,
Duncan only gave a timid nod in response.
“Good,” she said
hesitantly. “Like, I really don’t want you to feel forced to talk
to me.”
Duncan didn’t
acknowledge Callie that time, and the giant girl wasn’t entirely
sure that he heard her. He just kept staring at the ground, obviously
lost in thought.
Slowly, and
deliberately this time, the giantess slipped her right hand out from
under her chin and moved toward Duncan. He didn’t seem to notice,
completely dropping his guard for the first time in the conversation.
Her hand crept cautiously to the tiny man’s right side. With the
tip of her index finger, which was large enough to swallow his
shoulder, she rubbed his right arm up and down its length.
Duncan’s head shot
up, his body jumping slightly at Callie’s touch. His neck swiveled
as his eyes traced from her finger to her face, which wore a kind
expression.
“I know I said I’d
keep my hands to myself, but you looked like you needed that,” she
said. “I can stop if you want.”
Duncan turned his
attention back to the finger offering him comfort. He studied it
intently, and Callie could almost see the internal debate taking
place inside his head.
“No, it’s fine,”
he said slowly, not sounding entirely sure. “Th-thanks.”
Duncan tilted his
head toward the ceiling, staring up at the kitchen’s florescent
lighting as he took a deep breath. He sat there for a minute, just
letting Callie comfort him. When he turned his attention back to her,
he gave her a slight smile and a silent nod, which she took as a sign
to return her hand to its rightful place beneath her chin.
“So anyway,”
Duncan moved ahead with his story, “after I … got out of that
situation, I didn’t really know where to go. Kristie was the only
person I ever really trusted, and that … that didn’t work out so
well for me.
“So without
anywhere or anyone in mind, I just picked a direction and started
walking.”
The minuscule male
began to regale the colossal Callie with the tale of his long
journey, building momentum with his storytelling as he his memories
moved further past the … unpleasantness of his experiences with
Kristie.
“So you would
think sticking to the grass instead of the sidewalk would be a good
way to avoid giant feet coming down on you, right?” he said. “Well,
let me tell you a little something about phones and their effect on
how much people pay attention to where they step ...”
********
“Whoa, whoa whoa.
Hold up. You fought a squirrel?!” Callie asked, trying to keep from
laughing but failing miserably. “Like, a super cute and cuddly
squirrel?
“Over a chunk of
hot dog?!”
A scowl crossed
Duncan’s face.
“Yeah, well
they’re a lot less cute when they’re three times your size and
hungry,” he said. “That asshole looked more like a grizzly bear
on top of another grizzly bear to me.
“And that hot dog
was the closest thing to real, human food I’d seen in a week!”
Callie stopped
laughing, looking lost in thought at Duncan’s words.
“Wow,” she said
in an almost faraway tone. “I didn’t really think of it like
that, but yeah, that must have actually been pretty scary for you.
“So what did you
do?”
Duncan paused as he
deliberated in his head the least embarrassing way to tell the story.
“He ended up
jumping on top of me,” he said, holding his right side. “He dug
those God damned monster claws into my side. I thought he was going
to tear out my kidneys or something else important.”
Callie anxiously
leaned just a little bit closer to her little guest, her sumptuous
lips mere feet away from him on his scale.
“Yeah?” she said
with a breathless eagerness. “And then?”
Duncan lowered his
head, partially from embarrassment and partially in preparation for
the reaction that was surely coming.
“I kicked it in
the balls, and it ran away,” he said sullenly.
For a single
solitary moment, silence fell throughout the kitchen. That silence
was quickly filled with full-throated feminine laughter. Unable to
control herself, Callie’s warm cherry-scented breath forcefully
blew over the table, gently ruffling Duncan’s short brown hair and
the ripped sleeves of his tattered shirt.
Still, he had to
admit, it was actually pretty pleasant, if not a bit sticky,
reminding him of a balmy summer breeze.
“I-I’m sorry,
I’m sorry,” she gradually recovered after a solid 30 seconds of
laughing. “It’s just, that’s just too funny! I know that had to
be rough for you, but, come on! Who else can say they kicked a
squirrel in the balls?
“Like, do they
even have testicles?!”
Despite the warm
redness still present on his cheeks, Duncan looked back up at Callie.
“They only come
out in the winter, actually,” he said. “I never thought I’d be
happy to be tiny in December.”
Reliving the whole
ordeal in his mind, Duncan felt a swell of anger rise up from within.
“But if I ever get
my size back, the first thing I’m going to do is chop that piece of
shit Bigsby’s tree down,” he said. “Let’s see how tough that
smug bushy-tailed fucker is when he’s homeless!”
Duncan’s outburst
seemed to take Callie by surprise. She stared at him blankly for a
moment.
Then the laughter
came once again.
“Bigsby?!” she
questioned with a renewed giggle. “Did you for real name the
squirrel Bigsby?
“Why not Steven?
Or Stuart? Or Sergio?”
Lowering his head,
Duncan gave his answer nonchalantly.
“It was the
dumbest name I could think of,” he said.
Callie’s laughter
gradually died down, but an amused look remained on her face.
“So you gave him a
bad name just because you hate him?” she asked. “Bitter much?”
Duncan looked up at
Callie with a faux dark expression.
“My vengeance
knows no bounds,” he joked. “I wouldn’t fuck with me if I were
you.”
A self-satisfied
smirk touched Callie’s lips as her eyes rolled at her small house
guest's advice.
“Noted,” she
said, matching the minute man’s laugh.
With that, Duncan
took the opportunity to steer his story back on track.
“Anyway, Natasha
found me not too long after that,” he said. “She was actually
kind of nice, at first.”
Callie’s eyes
narrowed as she took in what Duncan had so casually put out there.
“Hold up, someone
else found you too?” she asked. “Where’s this Natasha now?”
Duncan shrugged his
shoulders.
“Oh, she’s still
around, I’m sure,” he said. “She found me when I was wandering
around in the grass, probably too close to the sidewalk. And like I
said, things went pretty well at first.
“She nursed me
back to health and everything.”
Callie looked at him
questioningly.
“Back to health?”
she asked. “What was wrong with you?”
Lifting his shirt
up, Duncan revealed the scarred remnants of claw marks running
diagonally down the right side of his torso.
“Squirrels carry
all kinds of bacteria in those claws,” he explained.
Callie grimaced as
she took in the old wound but chose to not interrupt Duncan’s story
again.
“So anyway, I was
feeling all kinds of shitty,” he said. “And Natasha just so
happened to hear me mumbling some incoherent shit because of my fever
as she was walking by. Turns out we were right in front of her house.
“So she took me
inside and helped get my fever down.”
Duncan stopped for a
minute, remembering how nice that first day had been. He found
himself wondering just what had happened to make it all go south.
“Things changed
after I recovered,” he said, maintaining a casual tone. “After
that, she started treating me less like a person and more like a
slave. She liked to jab at me with her toes, spit on me, blow her
cancer stick smoke in my face, and hold me down with a finger or her
foot.
“Every night, she
would tie my wrists and ankles together with dental floss and toss me
in her panty drawer.”
Duncan looked up and
was shocked to see horror written all over Callie’s face. The poor
giantess looked almost on the verge of tears. He stopped listing the
horrors he faced while under Natasha’s “care,” unsure how to
process Callie’s reaction.
After all, having
someone show legitimate concern for him was foreign territory for the
maladjusted mini.
“After about a
week, she had me picking up her toenail clippings for her,” he
said, ultimately deciding to gloss over several of the other details
of his time with Natasha. “I ended up stashing one of the sharper
ones in my shorts, and I used it to cut through the floss while she
was sleeping. She left the drawer just a tiny bit open, so I was able
to climb out and escape.
“It may be that
vindictive side you mentioned coming out, but I hope she was kind of
pissed.”
Once again, Duncan
got quiet. He studied Callie, who seemed to calm down with the happy
resolution to his Natasha story. Still, she kept quiet, which felt
odd to him, as he’d gotten used to her constant interruptions.
“Well anyway,”
he resumed his story, “after … all that, I just kept wandering in
this general direction. I wasn’t really sure where I was going
until I got here, but when I saw the main door of the apartment
building open, I went ahead and let myself in.
“The guy who used
to live in the apartment next to yours was moving out and had his
door propped open, so I snuck in to scavenge for food, found a whole
in the wall, and that pretty much takes us to now.”
Callie’s eyes went
wide.
“But that guy
moved out more than a month ago!” she said. “I only saw signs
that you were hanging out here, like, a week ago.
“Are you saying
you’ve been in the walls this whole time?”
Duncan nodded.
“I’ve been
spending most of my time scouting,” he said. “The insides of
these walls connect to a lot of the other apartments in the building,
so I wanted to make sure the person I reached out to wasn’t another
psycho.
“Once I picked
you, I tried to leave little signs that I was around. I wanted to see
your reaction before I came out, or at least that’s what I told
myself.
“Honestly, it was
really just an excuse to put it off. I’ve been sweating this for a
while now.”
Callie picked her
head up from her resting hands, tilting her head slightly to the
side.
“You picked me?”
she asked. “And you’re saying that all that stuff I noticed over
the past week, you’ve been doing that on purpose?”
Grinning, Duncan
gave Callie a thumbs up.
“That’s exactly
what I’m saying,” he said. “Of course, being like this for so
long, I somehow overlooked the fact that there’s no way anyone
would have known that someone my size even exists, let alone is
fucking with them.”
Callie lowered her
head back atop her knuckles.
“Well, despite
that, I’m still flattered,” she said. “But what was so special
about me?
“Or was everyone
else around here just super creepy?”
The giant woman’s
last question got a chuckle out of Duncan. After taking a minute to
recollect himself, he answered the more relevant of her questions.
“You’re almost
too nice, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, and
you’re a little desperate,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“Desperate about what I don’t know, but I kind of get the feeling
that you can relate to someone like me, even if my desperate isn’t
quite the same as yours.”
Callie nodded
thoughtfully as Duncan explained his rationale for revealing himself
to her. She kept quiet at first, with Duncan waiting patiently for
her to process the information.
“So now that we’ve
sorted all that out, I’m guessin’ that you want me to get you
some help, right?” she asked. “So you can get back to normal?”
Duncan frowned at
the suggestion.
“Not at all,
actually,” he said. “I mean, where would I even go? I doubt any
hospital has seen something like this before, and seeing as how no
one has ever heard of people shrinking before, this is either
something new to science or something scientists are trying to keep
under wraps.
“Either way, I
don’t like what that would mean for me if I went to a lab for
help.”
Callie stared at him
incredulously.
“Then why do all
this?” she asked. “Why do you need me at all?’
Doing his best to
give a casual shrug, Duncan hoped that Callie’s massive eyes
wouldn’t catch the lump in his throat as he swallowed nervously.
“I thought it
might be nice to have a place to go if things get … difficult with
some of the other tenants in the building,” he said. “It might
also be nice to have a place to scavenge where I don’t have to
worry about being mistaken for a mouse or bug.”
But Duncan couldn’t
bring himself to admit the real reason for seeking someone out. He
wasn’t sure if it was out of pride or fear that he kept to himself
that all he really needed from Callie was another person to talk to
once in a while, if only to remind him that he’s still human.
“Anyway, if that
works for you, I wouldn’t be in your hair too much,” he said.
“I’m not trying to burden you with my problems or anything.”
Callie regarding
Duncan with a look on her face that he wasn’t sure how to read,
perhaps a mixture of curiosity, disbelief, and deep thought.
“That’s totally
fine,” she said flatly. “Happy to help.”
Unsure of what was
going through his giant hostess’ mind, Duncan decided to take the
opportunity to excuse himself.
“Okay, well, good
talk then, I guess,” he said. “And speaking of not being in your
hair too much, I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on, so I should
leave you to it.
“Thanks for
helping me out, and have a good night!”
Duncan turned his
back and started walking toward the edge of the table facing the hole
in the wall. While he had gotten a bit of a weird vibe from Callie at
the end there, he felt like things had gone pretty well. Maybe his
concerns had been for nothing. Maybe things were finally starting to
...
“Hey, hold up a
sec,” Callie called out, breaking his train of thought.
Duncan
stopped dead in his tracks, attempting unsuccessfully to flush a
sudden sense of dread from his gut with a quiet sigh.
Here it comes,
he thought.
Internally,
Duncan was kicking himself for revealing so much of his
resourcefulness to this girl. From what he had seen in the past week,
it was clear that she was smarter than his previous two captors,
despite being a bit younger. After telling her his story, she would
surely take extra precautions if she decided to capture him as well.
For
a brief moment, he thought about making a break for it, irrational
though it would be to do so. He almost laughed aloud as he caught a
glimpse of his hole, the closest escape route. He would never make
it, not before Callie simply reached out and grabbed him before his
feet even reached the table’s edge.
No,
whatever came next, Duncan would have to lean into it, at least for
now.
“What’s
up?” he asked as casually as he could, turning around slowly as he
spoke.
Callie
lifted her chin from her knuckles, her hands reaching for her lower
back as her shoulder blades brushed against the back of her chair.
Her fingers massaged her tailbone as her back arched, inadvertently
thrusting her bulbous breasts forward.
“Actually,”
she said hesitantly, flashing Duncan a nervous smile as she
straightened her upper body, “would it be okay i-if … if I picked
you up? It was getting a little uncomfortable leaning down like that,
and like I said before, it can be kinda hard to hear you from up here
sometimes.”
For
Duncan, there was nothing okay about being picked up by a giant. As
far as he could tell, being lifted in a giant fist was nothing more
than a power trip for the women of his new life, a chance to show him
just how pathetic he truly was now.
Still,
it wasn’t as though he actually had a choice, right?
Heh, hands to
herself, Duncan
thought. I’m an idiot.
“Sure,”
he yelled, secretly hoping that his voice didn’t reach the
giantess.
But
Callie’s nervous grin quickly curled into a genuine one at his
answer, her top row of teeth glistening from between her slightly
parted lips. As her hands returned to the table, her left settled in
front of her while her right stretched toward Duncan, not even
needing to fully extend to reach him.
He
fought the urge to step back from the coming fingertips, also keeping
his arms straight and at his sides as he cringed in anxious
anticipation. He had learned early on that giants frowned upon him
trying to keep his arms free in their grasp, preferring him to
struggle feebly against the might of their grip.
But
Callie’s pink-laced fingernails stopped just short of Duncan.
Instead of encircling him eagerly, he looked on in surprise as the
giant woman’s hand flipped slowly, upturning to expose her palm to
him as a light rapping signaled that her knuckles had touched down on
the tabletop. The thickness of her fingertips reached the middle of
his shins.
At
first, Duncan just stared at the waiting platform laid out before
him.
Well, this is
new, he
thought.
Moving
his eyes away from the hand in front of him, Duncan looked up to see
Callie still smiling brightly as she waited patiently for him to
board. His gaze locked with hers, he raised his right foot cautiously
toward her middle finger. Before setting it down, however, he
retracted the step.
Not
entirely sure on the rules of etiquette for stepping into a woman’s
palm, he removed his shoes and socks, setting them to the side.
Callie shot him a quizzical look.
“There’s
a lot of gunk and … other stuff in the walls,” Duncan shouted to
her. “I figured you didn’t want that stuff on you.”
The
giantess nodded thoughtfully.
“Appreciate
it,” she said.
Duncan
stepped into Callie’s hand. An involuntary shiver struck the giant
woman as his tiny toes pressed upon her skin for the first time, the
quiver flowing from her shoulders to her fingertips and causing the
tiny man to stumble, though he maintained his balance after a brief
wobbling passed through his legs.
“Sorry,”
she said, cringing slightly. “I just didn’t expect you to feel
like … well, like that!”
Duncan
looked up to respond to the giantess, resuming his pace while
speaking. His feet sank slightly into the flesh of her middle and
index fingers as he gingerly walked their respective lengths, a foot
traveling down each slender digit.
“And
what exactly does that feel like?” he asked with a smirk,
happy to seize even the smallest advantage against the embarrassed
giant now holding him in the palm of her hand.
Staring
down at Duncan as he reached the center of her palm, Callie attempted
vainly to hide said embarrassment.
“I-I
don’t know,” she answered shyly, her face turning a light shade
of red. “Like, electric, I guess? It’s kinda intense.
“Anyway,
changing the subject ...”
Slowly,
Callie lifted her hand and its small passenger from the tabletop.
Despite her best effort, Duncan struggled to stay on his feet. He
fell on his butt as the momentum of his ascent ceased with him just
below her button nose and roughly a foot away from her awed
countenance.
He
found himself studied by a pair of hazel eyes larger than his head.
Over the edge of her palm, he could see the titaness flash a smug
smirk of her own at regaining the upper hand, before her face took on
a gentle yet serious look.
“I
just wanted to let you know that you don’t have to do this alone
anymore,” she said softly. “You were just sizing up if you could
make it back to your little hole before I grabbed you, right? Well,
you never had to worry about that, because I wouldn’t have tried to
stop you. Actually, if you want, I can just carry you over there and
save you some time. Then I can go back to leaving you food or
pretending you don’t exist or whatever you want me to do.”
Callie
lifted her gaze from the little man sitting in her hand as she stared
vacantly at the small hole. For his part, Duncan continued to listen
silently, still deciding what to make of her words as he returned to
his feet.
“But
I wouldn’t feel good about it,” she said. “And not just because
I’d be worried. Although yeah, I’d be pretty worried about you if
I knew you were around but couldn’t see you. I know you don’t
need me to tell you this, but there’s a lot of trouble you can get
into at your size, and I think I’d always be wondering if you were
okay.”
Still
looking over, rather than at, Duncan, Callie’s fingers absently
began to curl inward. Before he could react, the tips of her ring and
index fingers each picked a shoulder on which to settle. With the
slightest bit of pressure, the fingertips began rubbing with gentle
precision. Her middle finger soon joined in, massaging between his
shoulder blades in slow, circular swirls.
“It’s
because you’re right about me,” she said. “I do feel
desperate.”
Callie
looked down on the little man with a sad smile. He opened his mouth,
whether to protest being fondled or contribute to the conversation he
wasn’t sure, but it was all he could do to stifle a pleasurable
moan from coming out instead. This didn’t go unnoticed by the
giantess, who did her best to hold back a small chuckle before
continuing.
“I
think I’m about to fail outta school,” she said. “It’s only
one class, but I’d have to go an extra semester, and I don’t have
the money to do that. I mean, fuck, I don’t know if I have the
money to make rent next month.”
Callie
paused for a moment to take a slow, deep breath.
“Some
asshole wants to screw me over and ruin my fuckin’ life, and
there’s nothing I can do about it,” she said. “I’m gonna be
in debt the rest of my life with nothing to show for it. I’ll just
end up another 40-something slut sales girl still working at some
out-of-date boutique and hitting on guys, like, half my age.”
There
was a sense of sorrow in the words of the giantess that pulled Duncan
from the calming lull of his massage. Despite any reservations he
might have still held about the girl, he was compelled to ease that
pain in her voice.
“Uh,
you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself, don’t you think?”
he asked. “Aren’t you overstressing a bit?”
Callie
hesitated for a moment, carefully considering what to say next.
“That’s
probably right,” she said sadly. “But that doesn’t change the
fact that I’ve been stressing out about this for months now. The
people that want to help me, like my parents, think I’m an idiot
who did this to myself, and they can’t do anything for me anyway.
And the one person who could actually help me is the one who put in
this spot. I’m in this alone. No one’s coming to help me out.
“And
as much as I hate to admit it, that’s all I really want: just
someone to show up and say, ‘Here, have some help.’”
Callie’s
fingers stopped their massage, flattening back out with the rest of
her hand. She raised Duncan level with her eyes.
“Then
I met you, and I realized that I don’t have it so bad,” she said.
“I feel so guilty for thinking things were hard for me.
“But
I also realized that I can be that person for you, someone who
actually needs help. I can’t do anything about my shitty life, but
I can help you. And I want to.
“It
would mean a lot to me if you’d let me.”
Duncan
wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t doubt Callie’s sincerity,
but there were a lot of factors to consider before making any sort of
decision.
What
exactly does she mean by help? he thought. Obviously I can’t
agree to anything without ...
“Okay,”
he said before he realized it.
Duncan
wanted to clasp his hand over his mouth and take the word back. Did
he really just say that? Apparently, there was a part of him that was
ready to trust this girl, but it’s not as though he hadn’t been
fooled before. He needed to be more careful this time. He had to …
Pulling
himself from his thoughts, he glanced at the giant face in front of
him. Joy radiated from its countenance, headlined by a grin wider
than he was. The tiny man couldn’t help but smile back at the
sight.
Fuck it,
Duncan thought.
“Are
you serious?!” Callie asked excitedly. “I didn’t think you’d
actually want my help, especially with everything those bitches did
to you. Like, you have no idea how happy I am right now!
“We
can be, like, roomies!”
Roomies? Duncan
thought as he chuckled lightly at Callie’s excitement. Well,
I guess I could think of worse ways that this could have
played out.
As
the colossal girl’s mood settled, she gave Duncan a semi-serious
look.
“Full
disclosure, I didn’t really need to pick you up to hear you,” she
said apologetically. “Like, you for real do sound kinda quiet when
I’m sitting up all the way, but I can still make out what you’re
saying just fine, even if you don’t yell.
“It’s
just that, well, I really, really, really wanted to pick you up, but
I didn’t think you’d let me if I didn’t have a good excuse.
Sorry.”
Duncan
felt like he should have been annoyed, but he wasn’t. In fact, just
Callie saying she was worried that he wouldn’t let her pick
him up went a long way toward removing whatever doubts about her that
were still lingering in his mind.
“Don’t
worry about it,” he said.
A
sigh of relief escaped Callie’s lips.
“Awesome!”
she said. “I figured if we’re gonna be roommates, it’s best to
keep things honest between us, ya know?”
Callie
started sniffing the air around Duncan.
“Speaking
of, not to be rude, but have you thought about maybe takin’ a bath
or something?” she asked. “Not that you’ve had the chance ‘til
now, but you look, and smell, like you could really use one!”
Duncan
was too excited at the prospect of a bath to even feign an attempt at
indigence at Callie’s critques.
“Yeah,
that sounds great!” he said. “God, it’s been so long since I’ve
been able to clean myself proper.”
Without
warning, Callie’s other hand approached Duncan. Rather than grab
him however, it also turned palm up as both hands came together. The
two hands took on a bowl formation as Duncan slipped down to the
bottom, though he managed to keep his feet, one resting on either
palm.
“There,
that should be a safer way to travel,” Callie giggled. “Now, to
the bathroom!”
Duncan
saw the world around him blur as Callie began to walk, her speed
making it hard for him to discern his surroundings. This wasn’t the
first time he had been carried by giants, but, unfortunately for him,
it was the first time he was able to stand freely at the same
time.
By
Callie’s third step, he lost his balance, faceplanting into the
center segment of her right pinkie finger. She took another step as
he tried to push himself up, it’s impact being enough to make him
abandon the effort and instinctively hug her pinkie for dear life.
“Huh?”
Callie said, finally looking down and taking notice of Duncan’s
predicament.
The
little man could feel his face burning with embarrassment as he heard
her laugh lightly overhead.
“This
definitely isn’t my best moment,” he said with a nervous laugh,
releasing his grip but keeping his back to her. “I guess that was
kind of pathetic, huh?”
Duncan
finally braved a look at Callie’s face, prepared to accept the
smugness most certainly awaiting him there. Instead, he was met by
her sweet, innocent smile.
“Nah,
don’t worry about it,” she said. “We just gotta get used to
each other is all.
“But
we’ll get there.”
After
receiving an uncertain, almost shy nod from Duncan after he regained
his footing, Callie resumed her stride. However, the puny passenger
noticed that the pace of their travel had become much more leisurely.
Despite the world around him still whizzing by, it was obvious to him
that the gargantuan girl had significantly slowed her steps.
The
pair made their way beyond the invisible divide separating the
kitchen from the apartment’s living room, a heavy layer of tacky
dark purple shag carpet meeting linoleum serving as the only line of
demarcation between the two rooms. They passed through the living
space and traversed a short hallway before finding the bathroom.
The
unapologetic smacks of Callie’s bare feet slapping against the
tiled bathroom floor reverberated loudly around the narrow room as
she took the few short steps to cover the distance between the
doorway and the vanity.
Staring
into the mirror above the sink, Duncan noticed that his grime-covered
face barely managed to poke over the giant woman’s slightly curled
fingers, her igloo-sized breasts dwarfing him at his back. He gave a
defeated sigh. It had been a while since he had seen such a direct
reminder of just how small he had become.
The
ride down to the vanity countertop proved to be more smooth than
Duncan’s earlier ascent, perhaps due to both of Callie’s hands
being involved in gently lowering him back to more solid ground. He
hopped off of her fingertips, the coldness of worn cultured marble
assaulting the bottoms of his feet upon landing.
“Alright,”
Callie said as she contemplatively looked around the room. “The tub
is definitely too big for you, so I just need to find ...
“Hold
up! I got it!”
The
giant blonde hastily retreated from the bathroom, leaving Duncan
stranded on the vanity. He wasn’t left alone long enough to give
much thought to his situation, however, as she bounded back into the
room less than a minute later, a small rectangular Tupperware
container and a wash rag in her hands and a beaming grin on her face.
That
grin turned into a slight frown after she set the container next to
him.
“Oh,
the edge is still a little taller than you,” Callie said, sounding
a bit disappointed. “Sorry, but I think this is the best I can do
for a tub for now.”
Duncan
shot her a reassuring smirk.
“It
beats the hell out of showering with the drips from the leaky pipe
under your neighbor’s kitchen sink,” he said half-jokingly.
“Seriously, this is more than good enough, and I really appreciate
it.”
Callie
said nothing in response, simply nodding as she set the rag down,
reached for the vanity’s sink, and turned on the faucet. After
testing the water temperature with her index finger, she quickly
filled the container half way and placed it back down next to Duncan.
He
reached overhead with both hands and grabbed the top of the
container, pulling himself up as his right foot pushed off against
the side for a boost. Balancing his midsection against the edge, he
leaned down and was just able to touch the water with the tips of his
fingers.
“The
water feels great!” Duncan said as he let himself fall feet-first
back onto the vanity.
Callie
looked down on the little man in surprise.
“I
guess you don’t need my help gettin’ in then?” she asked.
Duncan
shook his head.
“I
should be good from here,” he said.
Duncan
watched as Callie grabbed two bottles from the nearby bathtub, one
body wash and the other shampoo. She carefully squirted a small dab
of each along the top edge of the container.
Then
she reached for the mirror hovering far above him, pulling it open to
reveal a massive cabinet hiding behind it. She pulled something he
couldn’t make out from below from the cavernous storage area before
addressing him once again.
“Okay,”
she said. “I’m gonna go figure out some sorta bed for you.
“I’ll
be back in about 20 minutes to see if you’re done.”
Callie
exited the room, her feet no less noisy as she left. Duncan began to
undress, looking forward to enjoying the closest thing to a real bath
he had experienced in six months.
********
Callie wasted no
time in heading for her bedroom closet. She tossed the small bag of
cotton balls she had grabbed from the bathroom onto her bed before
getting on her knees and starting to dig through the closet.
Come on,
she thought. I gotta have something that’ll work in here.
Thinking
back on the past hour or so, Callie was still struggling to
comprehend the situation. She didn’t understand how a person could
just shrink for, like, no reason. She didn’t understand how people
could be as cruel as the women her new roommate had come across after
he shrank.
Most
of all, she didn’t understand how he was still alive or how he was
able to function like everything was fine.
If
she had gone through half of the stuff he described to her in his
story, Callie was sure she would be reduced to a crying mess, balled
up in the fetal position, at all times. What’s worse, she was sure
that he had left out some of the rougher details of his journey.
She
had plenty of questions after Duncan had finished telling his tale,
but the truth was that she was too afraid to ask them. She wasn’t
sure if she could handle the reality of what his ex had actually done
to him, how he had managed to feed himself for those six months, or
even where he had slept each night.
Or where exactly
he’s gonna to sleep here, Callie
mentally noted.
He’s gonna to need …
She
stopped mid-thought as her eyes came across an old gray shoe box. She
picked it up, its lack of weight conveying emptiness. Opening up the
box, she gave its interior a quick sniff, not detecting any stench
coming from within.
Callie
found herself wondering if Duncan would be insulted at her offering a
shoe box as a temporary room. Would it be yet another reminder of how
tiny he is. She had noticed that he seemed depressed when he saw the
reflection of himself in her hands earlier, even if he only showed it
for a brief moment.
It’ll have to
do for now, she concluded. It’s
the best I got right now, and we can always find something better
later.
Having
made a decision, Callie started to gather the other materials she
needed to complete Duncan’s makeshift shelter.
********
Callie knocked on
the bathroom door twice before slowly turning the doorknob. Closing
her eyes and covering them with her free hand, she pushed the door
slightly ajar and poked her head through the crack.
“You done yet?”
she asked.
Listening closely,
Callie could barely hear a faint echo in the distance.
“Yeah, you can
open your eyes if you want,” Duncan shouted.
Callie dropped her
hand and opened her eyes as she stepped into the bathroom. She
spotted Duncan standing beside the container, dressed only in damp
boxer shorts. It felt a bit awkward, and a part of her wanted her
eyes to close once again, but the rest of her refused to listen.
The first thing to
stand out to her was how built he was. That’s not to say he had
muscles bulging all over his body, but he was certainly more toned
than she would have expected, with a six-pack covering his abs and
the solid muscles of his arms and legs suddenly more apparent without
the distraction of his tattered clothing.
The second thing she
noticed were the scars.
As Callie closed the
distance between them, she could see the calling cards of several
cuts and scrapes long healed but never forgotten. None were as
prominent as the one left by Bigsby, but his torso and upper legs
were dressed in light scarring, as well as some bruising.
As she reached the
vanity, she was at a loss for words. Instead of staring at him, she
focused on the stillness of the dark brown, almost mud-like bathwater
in the Tupperware container.
“So I decided to
clean my clothes while I was at it,” Duncan explained. “I didn’t
see the point of cleaning myself and putting those ratty things back
on. I left my shirt and shorts out to dry over there and dried off my
boxers as best I could.”
Callie looked a few
inches to the right of Duncan to see his mostly shredded shirt and
ripped up shorts, sopping wet, laid out neatly on the countertop. She
tried to focus on them rather than him but couldn’t help but steal
another glance at him.
Without the dirt and
grime covering his body, as well as his beard and hair being less
raggedy, she felt like she could get a better sense of his age, which
looked to be just a bit older than her own. She guessed that Duncan
was somewhere in his mid-twenties at most.
“Like yeah, that
totally makes sense,” Callie said, swiftly averting her eyes and
looking to change the subject. “So, uh, what do you want to do
now?”
Duncan stretched his
arms over his head and let out a soft yawn.
“I was actually
thinking of getting some sleep,” he said. “I know its not that
late, but I haven’t really had a good night’s sleep in a while,
and I’m pretty worn down right now.”
Eager to get out of
the uncomfortable situation, Callie hastily lowered her hands for
Duncan.
“Y-yeah, no
problem!” she said. “Come on!”
This time, Duncan
was much faster to climb into her hands, his growing trust melting
Callie’s heart. Not to mention the warm yet almost tingly sensation
of his little bare feet and tiny toes against her palms. She fought
off a pleasurable shiver as he walked, unsure if she wanted her teeny
traveler to know just how much she enjoyed holding him.
As she left the
bathroom at a more accommodating speed, she saw that Duncan was also
handling the trip noticeably better than the previous one. She felt a
small smile creep across her lips.
The trek to her
bedroom was a short one, it being directly across the hall from the
bathroom. Callie walked to the dresser near the foot of her bed and
set Duncan down in front of the shoe box from earlier.
“I figured you’d
want some privacy, so I gave you your own room!” Callie beamed.
“The door’s right over here.”
She pointed to the
middle of one of the longer sides of the box. There, carved from the
base to roughly three inches upward, was the “door.” She had cut
the opening on three sides, leaving one longer side intact to act as
a door hinge.
Cautiously, Duncan
pushed the door open, stepping into the box. Callie, being curious
about his reaction, carefully lifted the lid from the box. He didn’t
acknowledge the removal of his ceiling, however, as he kept his eyes
on the flattened ball of fabric, which showed the barest hint of the
fluffiness it was hiding underneath, in a corner of the otherwise
bare room.
“I didn’t think
the cotton would be comfortable to sleep on by itself, so I cut a
piece of bed sheet and wrapped it up,” she said. “I really tried
to find ways to make this feel homey, but I didn’t have a lot of
stuff around for that.
“And I know it’s
just a shoe box, but I promise we’ll find …”
Callie stopped
herself as Duncan raised a hand and looked over the rim of the box
toward her.
“Like I said
before, I was sleeping in a hole in the wall for the last month, so
this is great, really,” he said. “Thank you.”
Duncan then
approached the makeshift bed and fell back-first onto it, letting out
a relaxing sigh as he landed.
“Anytime!”
Callie said. “I’ll let you get your sleep now. Goodnight!”
Duncan gave a small
wave, his eyes already closed as his body settled into a more
comfortable position. Callie put the lid back on top of the box and
left the room. Heading back down the hallway, her thoughts centered
on the tiny man sleeping in a box by the foot of her bed.
Someone actually
believes in me, Callie
mused.
Somebody thinks I’m not worthless.
And I’m gonna
prove him right!
She
reached the door and put on a pair of sandals she had left waiting
there. Grabbing her purse from a nearby end table in the living room,
she left the apartment with a newfound sense of determination.
Callie
had a lot of work to do.