My Borrowed Son

The Morning After

The next eight hours were the most restless hours of Amanda's life. Not only did she find herself restless while she slept, but she also found herself awake every hour just to check on the minuscule boy.

A million worries consumed her mind.

Was he breathing okay?

Was he asleep?

Did he need to eat more frequently than a normal human?

What even was he?

Sprite?

Fairy?

Figment of her imagination? She hadn't quite ruled that one out yet.

Had he been abandoned? If so, was his size because of a condition, and that was why he was left alone?

Or was he lost?

Where was his family?

And were they looking for him?

Worried, Amanda would push herself up onto her elbow, reach over, uncover the small boy, and watch with baited breath to make sure he was breathing.

Looking at the boy, she was awed by his features. Everything was proportional and indistinguishable from that of a human. The way his nose scrunched as he rolled over to how his little hands curled up to grasp the blanket by his face. Beneath the bruises and the thinned features was a handsome little boy.

All Amanda could think was how could anyone just leave him behind. He had to have gotten lost or, much to her dismay, something might have happened to his parents for him to be in such a state.

Heart aching at the thought of someone leaving him or losing him, Amanda decided to get up out of bed and stop wallowing in her thoughts. They were keeping her awake and she needed to keep her mind preoccupied if she was going to stay focused for the rest of the day. Besides, there was no point in tossing and turning any more than what she was doing already. She shoved the sheets and comforters over and shuffled to the kitchen for her morning ritual.

She brewed her coffee in what felt like record time and washed her face in the kitchen sink since her toiletries hadn't been unpacked just yet. Amanda padded through her new home and quietly gathered her things in the stillness of the morning including her laptop and her meager breakfast. She brought them into her room and curled back into her bed before she began typing away on a report she had neglected to complete the day before.

She pulled the box over at one point once she got settled and kept an eye on the sleeping boy, which lasted for maybe two hours before the toddler rousted himself. It was his cough followed by a subtle whimper that pulled Amanda's focus to the little boy.

Seeing his tousled light sandy brown hair now sitting upright, free from grime and dirt, Amanda pushed her laptop away and looked down into the box. The boy reached up and rubbed his eyes with his tiny fists and yawned. Those soft brown eyes, now free of sleepers, gazed up at Amanda.

Perhaps it was because she was hyper focused on the little boy's eyes, but Amanda thought she glimpsed confusion, sadness, and the slightest apprehension as he met her gaze.

"Hey there. Good morning," said Amanda sweetly, keeping her voice down as she lowered her hand into the cardboard shoe box. "Did you sleep so good?"

The little boy surveyed his surroundings, whimpering and huffing as if he were about to start crying, before taking two deep breaths and looking up at Amanda and, for the first time, acknowledged her questions with a nod.

Her jaw dropped. It wasn't just her imagination. She saw him nod. It was a conscious effort, which only fascinated her more about the thumb sized boy. His little eyes stayed focused on Amanda as she processed what she just witnessed. Then, realizing she was gawking, shook herself from her spiraling thoughts and smiled at the little boy.