Amanda knew immediately the second she crossed the threshold of her home that she was in over her head. The minuscule boy in the palm of her hand needed intense care, and his size, being no bigger than her thumb, was going to be an immense challenge.
Still, Amanda knew she made a promise to this boy, and she refused to let him down now - especially after they first met. She had earned a fragment of trust, and she intended to keep it.
Finally making it past the mountains of boxes, she stepped into her kitchen and set her hand onto the counter. The slight jostle made the poor boy whimper pitifully.
"You're okay. I'm here," she reassured just as she had done the whole way home. Seeing him in full light, Amanda wanted more than anything to give him a bath, but more importantly was the fact that he needed food. One handed, Amanda fished out a bowl and a standard can of chicken noodle soup and began heating it in the microwave.
She wished she could give him something a little more nutritious and home-made, but that would have to wait. At the moment, her life was upside down. Everything happening was the last thing she wanted, but it was what she needed.
While the little boy stayed huddled in her hand, Amanda continued to work. She realized after fumbling around for a minute for a spoon that she had nothing in her house that would be small enough for the child. Amanda, as her thoughts bounced around her skull like a bouncy ball, didn't want to scare the child with a spoon that he could sit on; but he also needed something to eat the soup with.
The boy watched with his insightful eyes, keeping eerily quiet, while Amanda searched.
Feeling the pressure of his eyes, Amanda suddenly came up with an idea, but she'd need the boy to listen to instructions for this to work. She snagged a dish cloth from her sink and ran it under the water, moving delicately to not startle the little boy. When it was just barely damp, she turned off the water and held out just a little corner for him.
"Could you rub your hands on the cloth? Okay? Rub your hands on the cloth," coaxed Amanda as she mimicked the motion with her thumb and index finger. The infinitesimal child blinked uncertainly before inching himself across Amanda's palm, making a tingling shiver shoot up her arm, and imitating the motion, rubbing his hands on the cloth.
Her mind was absolutely numb. This boy was absolutely amazing. At every turn, she was discovering something new about him and what he understood. Did that mean he could speak as well?
The thought was fascinating, but it would have to wait because, just then, the microwave dinged. Amanda moved instinctually at her own pace simply to look over at the kitchen appliance, but it was enough to jostle her hand and make the boy whimper and take cover against Amanda's curled fingers.
"Oh... oh no... It's okay, sweetie. I'm sorry," muttered Amanda as she curled her fingers a little tighter. The boy whimpered again, hiding his soft brown eyes as he kept them shut tight. His breathing was rapid, and he was trembling ever so slightly. Amanda could feel him against her fingertips. It made her heart hurt, so she tried coaxing him a little more. "I'll move slower. I promise. You're okay."
Seemingly convinced, the sandy haired boy to open his eyes once again after a few minutes and looked back up at Amanda. To her, it looked like he was seeking reassurance in her eyes, and she freely gave it.
"There you go. See? All better," Amanda encouraged. Moving slower now, Amanda retrieved the soup, a soft drink cap, and the loaf of bread from the kitchen counter. With the items neatly organized, Amanda dipped the cap into the warmed soup and tested the temperature to make sure he wouldn't get burned before daring to lower both the cap and the little boy to the kitchen counter.
Goodness... he's so small. He looks like one of those little salt and pepper shakers, Amanda thought as she kept her hand on the counter, the boy still sitting on the edges of her fingers. He was looking around at all of the cabinets and drew his legs in toward him, obviously intimidated.
To make this a positive experience, Amanda acted quickly and pinched off a corner of bread and offered it to the boy. His little features furrowed in confusion as he carefully took the bread from in between her pinched fingers. He rotated around so he could face her but didn't leave the safety of her hand.
It wasn't ideal, but it was the only option she had. She didn't want to force the boy off. If her hand was where he felt safe, then that was where he should stay.
Amanda moved the cap of soup onto her palm in front of the boy before pulling her own bowl toward her.
"Here now, watch me, okay? Just dip the bread into the soup, like this," instructed Amanda. Keeping her hand steady, she took her own piece of bread and dipped it into the liquid, swirled it around, and then brought it to her lips for a bite. The soft brown eyed boy watched Amanda do this several more times before looking down at his own piece of bread and, to her amazement, dipping it into the broth in the lid, imitating Amanda's behavior.
Thankfully, Amanda didn't need to continue repeating the action because the moment the bread and salty soup touched his lips, the boy began to eat ravenously, broth dribbling down his front and into his already filthy clothes.
Now really able to see him, Amanda saw that the little boy's outfit consisted of a shirt with a faded yellow button on his front that took up most of his chest and a big green button on his back that was like the one on his chest. He was barefoot, mud caked in between his toes, and his pants were obviously soiled.
It made Amanda's heart twist in her chest. How long had this boy been out on his own?
When the little pinch of bread was gone, the most pitiful look filled his eyes as he looked back up at Amanda eagerly, to which she happily gave him another piece. He inhaled three fair sized bread pinches before he showed signs of slowing down. It was on the fifth piece that he slowed and stopped, simply holding the bread close and nibbling on the edge absentmindedly.
Amanda knew she would need to get some utensils for him, but now was not that time. Now, after the boy had some food in him, she managed to convince him to drink a little bit of water before she shuffled both of them to the bathroom.
A bath was in order.
She stepped up to her bathroom sink and began to run some warm water. She found some vapor bubble bath that would probably do the little boy some good and added that to the running water in the sink.
At first sight, however, the boy whimpered and scuttled across her hand to grasp her thumb with all of his might. He was shivering violently and fell to his knees. Amanda kept her free hand cupped near her thumb in case the little boy accidentally lost his balance. Perhaps it was instinct, but the boy's ability to balance on such a malleable substance like a hand was incredible.
She couldn't pause to marvel at him now, however.
With a feeling like a punch in the gut, Amanda tried figuring out how to convince this child he was alright and that the water was alright.
Did something happen related to water to make him so afraid? Amanda wondered. The horrid thought that he had been swept away in a rainstorm from his family made her heart clench. Just keep reassuring him. Show him it's okay. He trusted you with the bread, right?
It was a weak argument, but it was all she had.
"It's okay sweetie," coaxed Amada, speaking once again in a low, sonoric tone. "It's just water, see?" With that, Amanda carefully placed her other hand under the water and moved her fingers around, splashing the liquid around the sink. The little boy continued clutching Amanda's thumb as he whimpered.
She had to try something else. Then, she got an idea.
Amanda cupped her one hand and caught some of the water in it before pulling it away from the faucet and holding it up to the little boy.
"Here, see? It's just water," reassured Amanda as she tapped the puddle of water in her palm while holding it up to the boy.
He turned his soft brown eyes to Amanda before looking back at the water. Tears still staining his face, he leaned forward and barely touched the water with the tip of his finger.
The miniscule boy instantly retraced his finger and huddled against Amanda's thumb, but a smile from her and another reassuring, "It's okay," had the boy tapping the liquid until the tears stopped.
It would take Amanda another twenty minutes to coax the little boy under the stream of water where she gently massaged soap into his hair and over his clothes. While she worked, she watched the boy's eyes drifting further and further down, drowsiness overtaking him. The sight was adorable beyond words. Though tentative, his trust mixed with exhaustion was making this little boy fall asleep in her hands.
Amanda dried him off, careful not to jostle his head, and carefully constructed a toga-like outfit. Cutting away the little boy's clothes was nerve wracking and made Amanda's heart ache at seeing all of his injuries as well as his little ribs, which were clearly visible. There were also numerous bruises on his body as well as scratches, some of which ran from the base of his back to the top of his neck.
Was he attacked by something? How long has he been out there? Where are his parents? Did he have parents?
Amanda organized a shoebox with some snacks, water, and bedding and set the unconscious boy inside. Evidently, he had fallen asleep in her hand while she put together a space for him.
His little forehead furrowed as he twitched and turned into the bed Amanda made for him.
Now, more than ever, she needed to find out about this little boy, and, beyond that, she needed to find a way to protect him - no matter what.