She jostled awake.
Whether it was the sudden lurch of the train or a spasm during sleep, she didn't know. She knew nothing- naught but the uncertainty it brought and the steady, percussive k-kuh, k-kuh of the train's wheels passing over measured bumps in the track. In her hands, her thumb inadvertently highlighting a portion of the article she had left on when she dozed off while on her phone.
She chided herself- these micro-sleeps were getting more frequent. Too many late nights watching those videos.
Not like anyone would stop her, though- not since Charlie left.
I'll have to get to bed early tonight, she told herself, trying to push the unwelcome reminder aside. The promise, however, sounded hollow, even to her.
She glanced up from her phone and looked around. The train car had emptied at its last station, leaving it like some long corridor with only the train's host snoozing in the far corner.
She smiled. For the next twenty minutes, she and this man, a heavy-set and wizened older man with a shock of white for hair would be the only ones to keep each other company.
She enjoyed it, for the most part. That quiet hour of solitude where she could let her mind expand and reflect. It was, in the commute in and the commute out, a time where it was just her, her mind...
Gurrrrrrrrrrg.
... And her stomach.
She smiled wryly- lunch had been shorter today, and she hadn't all the time she needed to eat. She reached down to her bag between her legs, pushing it open with her hand... And stopped.
Her heart caught in her throat. There, next to the bag of raisins, was a Small. He lay there, curled up knees to chest, his dirty hair all over his head. Rapid breaths pushed in and out of his emaciated body, which shivered occasionally as he lay there. He had nothing on but a tiny loincloth, and even then, she could see everything.
Unconscious, the woman thought, blushing, though she didn't see his face- she just kind of knew.
How in the world did he get there? Did he sneak in somehow? What Small in their right mind would willfully crawl into a Reg's bag? Maybe he was crazy. Desperate.
Or, she thought, biting her lip and feeling a tug at her heart, he's really hungry. Hunger made people do silly things.
The girl glanced up around her again, ensuring no one was around. Just her, the train host, and the little passenger.
Her heart pound like mad as she reached down into her bag, and felt her lithe fingers wrap around the man's body. Delicately, she positioned her hand around him, careful to cradle the man's head with her forefinger. With a gentleness that surprised even her, she lifted her hand up and brought the tiny man to her face.
She took a second to look at him. Up close, he was rather cute- button nose, firm cheekbones. It struck her again, despite state rhetoric, just how human the Smalls were.
Just like us, only four inches tall, she thought to herself.
She decided that gentle strokes would be the best way to wake him- to shake him would not only scare the crap out of him (maybe literally), but also break something. Something he might need. And if she remembered correctly, people, even tiny ones, generally needed things unbroken.
“Hey… hey little guy…” she stroked him from shoulder to thigh, and occasionally pushed his head up so it wasn’t drooping. “Wake up. You need to wake up.”
Slowly his eyes drifted open, and she remembered it was like waking her kid sister up in the morning for school. The man, groggy as all get out, arched his back while gritting his teeth. The woman smiled- like it he was waking up from a wonderful nap. He rubbed his eyes and looked down. And up. And up. And up and up and up and up…
When his eyes (a pleasant grey-blue she noted) locked onto hers, he reared back and began to scream bloody murder. He pushed and kicked and at her hand, trying desperately to get out of her hand.
The woman jumped when he started yelling, and she held the guy a little ways away until it dawned on her why he was screaming- wouldn’t she do the same if she’d woken up in a giant’s hand? Mustering her courage, she brought the man closer, which only seemed to intensify his mad and wild pleas.
“Ohmigawd please no no just let me go please I’m beggin’ you please don’t hurt me”
She cringed, thinking just how scared he was. She smiled softly and whispered to him, lowering her voice’s pitch ever so much.
“Hey, I’m not going to hurt you… Just what’s-”
“Please please no, don’t hurt me I sweatergawd you’ll never see me again, I don’t even know how I ended up-”
“Waitaminute, listen, I’m not gonna-“
“Please just let me go please I swear you’ll-“
“Listen, dude, I’m not…”
She huffed, finally fed up. She was going to get nowhere with this, and fast.
And then, as though her hand moved by itself, she reached down and navigated her fingers into the bag that held her lunch- she picked up a single raisin, and, with a speed that belied her size, she popped it into his mouth. The man shut up immediately, and his eyes went wide when the fruit, the size of a loaf of bread, entered his mouth. He ripped it out of his mouth, gaping up at the girl with something between confusion, anger, and surprise.
And then, his eyes drooping below, he began to tear into the raisin. Bite after bite, he just inhaled it and ignored her, like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.
She watched him intently, smiling patiently and maybe a little embarrassed at how cute both she found both him and this happenstance, and she almost cried when he saw him tear up while eating. He really had been hungry.
He slowed down… eventually. When he did, she coughed. He looked up at her and then away, his cheeks reddening.
“…I’m sorry. I kinda freaked out there.”
She nodded her head and grinned.
“Just a bit. What’s your name?”
He looked up at her and examined her face- he was considering.
“Wyatt. What’s yours?”
“I’m Hannah.”
A nod.
“Hello, Hannah.”
“Hi. Listen, Wyatt. You’re…” she bit her lip, searching for the right word, “you’re not in trouble, but if I may ask… how did you get into my bag?”
“I… I don’t remember. One minute I was out on the street scavenging… I heard… a laugh, I think? Yeah, and then… I was just here, in your hand.”
“You don’t remember how you got into my bag?”
“No. …Please don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m lying to you. I’m not lying to you.”
“I don’t think you’re lying.”
“Really.”
Hannah huffed, her eyebrow cocked.
“Yes, really. …are you still hungry?”
“Yes. Please.”
She fed him another raisin, letting him instead sit on her leg while he did so. She watched him inhale that raisin too, and he quietly thanked her when she gave him a cap full of her water.
“How long has it been?”
“Since food? A couple of days. I was kicked out of my tribe.”
“Oh no. What for?”
“Stealing food.”
“Oh.”
She bit her lip.
“I’m… sorry.”
“S’okay.”
Wyatt just kind of sat there, occasionally drinking water, glancing every so often up at his hostess. She continued to watch him, being largely unsure of what to say. She’d heard of it before- Smalls being ejected from their tribal communes and wandering out. Stripped of all clothing, food… and dignity. Most of the one she had seen on the side of the road, either skeletonized or being devoured by some animal were in just such situations.
Being expelled to the society of Regs? It meant death.
Moreover, Hannah realized now, a death she could avert.
Taking a chance, she reached down and stroked his back gently with a finger. Wyatt perked up and looked at her for a half-second before… the fight in his eyes. Fight versus flight versus safety. He’d heard stories before- stories of Smalls who got involved with Regs. Crushed, torn apart, sat on, thrown to dogs, thrown in freezers, thrown to the cold unmerciful god that was scientific experimentation. He’d even seen, god help him, someone bitten in half.
To say he was wary was… an understatement.
Still.
That undeniable and reassuring feeling.
Safety and security. A warm body.
He decided, in the end, to lean into the finger. She melted at his decision, and she gave a few more longer, bigger rubs than she had.
You’re safe, it seemed to say.
“So,” he began, again, touching the digit gently and peering up at her, “what are you going to do with me?”
She swallowed, her eyes averting to the side. She really hadn't the slightest. She couldn't return him to the street, that was for sure.
She instead lay her hand by him, prompting him to hop on. He did so after a second.
"Well..." She began, "I think I want to take yo-"
Gurrrrrrrrrrrrgug.
Wyatt's eyes flew to her stomach, which she had covered in her embarrassed haste. She looked down at it, and then alighted on him.
The silence permeated the air. One second. Two.
"well," she grinned at him, "I could always use a snack..."
"You're... Joking, right?"
Hannah covered her mouth to suppress a giggle.
"Of course... That was a terrible joke, sorry..."
He smiled frustratingly at her, switching from one arm to the other.
"But really... Maybe you should take me to the authorities."
Hannah's heart stopped. The collection center? She'd been there. Despite their mission statement, wasn't exactly... The best. More came in than left, in fact.
Her heart pounded. It... It didn't feel... Right. Really? Just pick him up, feed him some fruit, and then toss him away to the state?
It didn't sit well with her.... Not in the slightest.
"-take me to one of the processing centers or-"
"You could stay with me!" She blurted. He looked puzzled, a little shocked.
"I mean," she blushed, "if you'd like."
A look- consideration?- passed his brow. But then he shook his head.
"No, no... Hannah, I couldn't."
"You totally could, though," said she. Her heart beat rapidly. What was she doing? She was inviting a booooooy to sleep at her place! A Small man is still a man!
The right thing, she thought. She knew.
"I mean, I have plenty of room at my place. There's an extra bedroom, plenty of food... Oh, and I get free cable. It's awesome!"
He blushed. Nodding.
"Hannah, I..." He shrugged. "I couldn't impose."
"Nonsense- not at all."
He looked her up and down, taking her in. Then, finally,
"Okay. Sure. I'd love to."
Hannah practically melted. Whether it was the charity or... The prospect of having someone, anyone, around her place was... Exciting.
The train lurched to a stop, and the door swung open. The breeze made her (and her guest) shiver with the cold.
"Oh," Hannah said, wrapping another hand around Wyatt, "you must be freezing." She made to put him in her bag, but then... A thought. She zipped down her jacket, exposing her chest. Wyatt blushed.
She took a breath, and lifted the tiny man to her face.
"Wyatt... Do you trust me?" Her breath pushed his long hair.
He nodded. Smiled.
"I... I trust you, Hannah."
She grinned, gave him a tiny peck, and then lowered him between her breasts.
"This'll keep you warm," she declared, and zipped up, ensuring his little head was popped out.
And maybe, she thought, just maybe…