Just like the ivy on the side of the house? Arthur answered, skeptical and sarcastic, Great. Give it a chance. Francis insisted, giving Arthur a small box full of his belongings.
Arthur glared at the house before opening the white front door and stepping in, vaguely noticing that the paint was peeling. The house smelled like it looked, old and unused. There were spider webs in some of the corners and dust rested on every surface. Meandering throughout the house to find a room to claim as his own, he opened a door on the second floor to find stairs. The stairs were hot and smelled very musty, but an overwhelming curiosity made him climb them. They led to an attic, which was even more dust covered than the rest of the house, and empty. Light streamed through a circular window at the front of the house and two tall rectangular windows at the sides.
The room was perfect.
Arthur smiled, beside himself, and placed his box of belongings gently in the middle of the room.
Arthur! He heard Francis call for him, Where are you? Did you find a room yet? I m in the attic! Arthur shouted back, gazing out the circular window at the small clearing that their house was located in. Dense forest surrounded the house, and only one unattended road led to and from it. He spotted two hiking trails and briefly wondered who would have the time to go hike but not clean up a little?
There s an attic? Francis said his voice louder, closer.
It s the last door at the end of the hallway! Arthur called back, and then heard the door open and the stairs creak as Francis climbed up them. This is where you want your room? Francis asked before joining Arthur at the window.
Arthur just nodded in response, wiping dust off the small window seat and sitting on it.
If you re sure Francis said, trying to pat down Arthur s wild hair and smiling. We ll have to put an air conditioner in, but a few fans should work for now. A small smiled played around the edge of the ten-year-old s lips, and he hugged his elder brother. Arthur missed his old school and he missed his old friends, but maybe life here wouldn t be so terrible.
Francis lifted the small boy into the air spun him around, a smile on both of their faces. Tell you what, Francis said once he put Arthur down and checked his cell phone for the time, I ll let you call your friends on my phone if you can get all your boxes from the car up to here before the moving truck gets here. But they said that they were only ten minutes behind us when you called once we pulled up in the driveway! Arthur said, glancing up at Francis with his bright, green eyes.
Francis crouched down on his knees, his eyes almost level with Arthur s, who was a few inches taller, and whispered with a smile on his face, Then you better get started.
About ten minutes and several boxes later, the moving men finally showed up and Francis sacrificed his phone to Arthur for a few minutes. After unloading the boxes and placing them in the correct rooms, Arthur and Francis had a quick dinner of whatever they could find, and headed to bed.
While Arthur was lying in his bed, unable to sleep, he heard Francis climb up the stairs and come over to sit on the edge of his bed.
I know you re not asleep yet, Arthur. Francis murmured to him in a sweet voice.
Pulling the covers away from his face, Arthur softly replied, It s too strange here. It s better than trying to share that one bedroom apartment, is it not? Francis said, and Arthur opened his arms wide for a hug. Pulling him close and wishing him sweet dreams, Francis stood to leave and Arthur grabbed his hand.
W-will you sleep in here tonight? Arthur asked quietly and yawned.
Of course I will. Francis replied, slipping in bed beside his brother and holding him tightly as a parent would do.
When Arthur awoke the next morning, Francis was already gone, and faint sounds of someone in the kitchen were heard while Francis made breakfast. Rubbing his eyes, it took Arthur a moment to remember where he was. Then it hit him; they had moved to the middle of nowhere.
Yawning and stepping out of his bed, Arthur padded with bare feet through the mass of boxes and down the stairs to the bathroom. After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he continued down the second set of stairs to the first floor and peeked around the corner to the kitchen. Francis was still busy at working cooking and even still wearing his pajamas. Not wanting to bother his older brother while he was busy, Arthur made his way back up the stairs to his bedroom. Once he reached the top of the stairs in his bedroom, Arthur stretched his arms out and sighed. Why did he have so much stuff? He had tons of belongings to unpack!
Shoving a pile of boxes out of the way, he found that some shelves had been built into the wall, something that his massive book collection would make quick work of. He walked over to the back corner of the room, toward the heaviest stack of boxes labeled with his childish scrawl, books . He pulled the top box off the stack and sat on the floor to pull off the tape when something caught his eye. At the very corner of the room where the old, wood floor met the wall, a small piece of rested metal was jammed. Curiosity overpowering him, he pulled it.
Absolutely nothing happened. The piece of metal held tight, almost as if it had been nailed there. Who knew, maybe it was.
Arthur frowned, but put it at the back of his mind and continued unpacking his books and placing them in order of his favorites by series.
Arthur, are you awake? Francis asked and knocked on his door moments later. I brought you breakfast! You can come in, I m awake! Arthur said absently, debating whether he preferred the Uglies trilogy over the Harry Potter series. Arthur got up from his knees where he was going through the books and walked over to the top of the stairs to meet Francis, who was carrying two plates of food for them both. Wow, you still have a lot to do, no? Francis said, looking at all of the boxes yet to be unpacked and giving Arthur his food. Can you get it all done before school starts next Monday? School starts on Monday?! Arthur exclaimed, But it s still only the beginning of August! I know, but things are different here. Francis replied, feeling sympathy for the small boy.
That s utterly and completely ridiculous! Arthur muttered, glaring out the round window.
You ll make new friends and you ll have fun, I promise. Francis smiled encouragingly and stroked Arthur s hair.
Because school is fun. Arthur said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and frowning. Being the new kid was something that he would never look foreword to. Being treated special just because it was his very first day and then completely forgotten the next, roaming the halls friendless and alone. You never know, you might just find some cute girl- Girls are gross! Arthur announced, cutting off Francis and sticking out his tongue.
So, you re still at that stage, huh? Francis smiled down at the boy and laughed a little. Ah, ten years old. What an age to be!, Well, maybe you ll find a new boy to be friends with. I very highly doubt that. Oh, I know you will. If you doubt and are determined not to have fun, you won t. It s as simple as that. Francis said, reaching for Arthur s now-empty breakfast plate, Now come on, when you have this new friend of yours come over, do you want them to see all of these boxes? Better start unpacking so that this house will feel more like home. Arthur just nodded and Francis pecked him a quick kiss on the forehead and smiled before leaving him to unpack.
So many thoughts were passing through Arthur s mind right then that unpacking felt like one of the only things he could do to put them aside. Boxes were still everywhere, but at least now he had his own room and places to put all of his belongings. Heading to the back corner to continue with his books, the piece of metal wedged in the corner came back to his attention. Just what was it doing there? He was determined to know. Shoving boxes out of the way, Arthur tried tugging on the bit of metal again, and it moved, just a little. The section of floor beneath lifted just a few millimeters and he realized it must have been a trap door. Moving out of the way, he pulled on the little tab of metal and then a small square of the floor popped up, about a square foot. Opening the diminutive door, all he found was a wooden box that barely fit the space at all. He pulled it out and dusted off the top, finding words etched into the wood that the box was crudely made of.
For my little hero.
Absently tracing his fingers over the letters, Arthur only briefly wondered who this Little hero, was and who could have wanted to give them this box, and why someone would hide it here.
After opening the box, he found it was full of yellowed papers, with a special message written on the top page.
All of these are written for you, little hero. I know that with my old age and all my illnesses that I won t always be around for you, even if your mother just told me she was having you about a month ago. I just know that you will be strong and protective just as I was when I was much younger. I can see you now, with the bright eyes of your father and with the same warmth in your heart that your mother has. I was certain you would turn out to be a little boy even before your mother told me, and though I haven t seen your face at all yet, I know you will bear striking resemblance to your father. He s a good man; hardworking and diligent, I found him to be the perfect choice for your mother and I couldn t have been more proud of the two when they told me the news that you were to be born.
Enough of that for now, I have something to say about all of the stories that you will find here. Each tells of bravery and strength, goodness and kindness where it is needed most. I wrote them all just for you because I fear that I won t be around for you to learn these lessons. I know you will make mistakes of your own along your way, but I hope that some of these stories will come to mind and help you make correct decisions.
Remember that no matter your circumstances, you will always be loved, and you can always come home.
-Grandpa
The letter seemed sad to Arthur, and he almost wanted to cry just reading it, even if he had no idea who this Little hero was. He had previously had no idea who owned the house before them, but that it had been empty for a few years. It became clear to him that an old man had lived here, one that had high hopes for what could have been his only grandchild, and that he must have passed away before giving this box to him.
He must have sat there, staring at the paper for hours. Arthur was still on the verge of tears long after he had read it the first time, and his feet were starting to fall asleep, the pins-and-needles sensation climbing his ankles. It was especially sad to him because he had never known his grandfather, who had passed long before he was born. He didn t even really know his own parents, he had been with his older brother his entire life!
It must have been his sympathy and compassion for this little hero that he finally pulled out the next page, always ready for a good story. The story was titled Together, as Brothers. and finally brought him to tears. It told of two soldiers who fought alongside each other to the death, and even at the very end one was brave enough to sacrifice his own life for his brother-in-arms, even though the two had only know each other for barely a few weeks. The story spanned several pages, and caused Arthur to wonder at what age that this grandfather was going to give this to his Little Hero.
Arthur! I ve been calling you for the past ten minutes, what have you been doing? Francis asked, placing his hand on his hip at the top of the stairs, bringing Arthur back to reality. He should have been unpacking! Just what was he thinking, taking all this time to read stories that weren t even meant for him?
I-I um, Arthur sheepishly replied, hurriedly stuffing the papers back into the box and putting it back into it s secret location, praying that Francis couldn t see him around the stacks of boxes.
Lunch is ready, I just wanted to make sure that you hadn t drowned in boxes. Francis replied, his voice losing all of its harshness. I can come up and help you after, if you need it I can handle it. Thanks for offering, though. Arthur replied, standing on his wobbly feet from sitting so long and cautiously walking to where Francis stood. Do do you know anything about the person who owned this house before us? All I know is what I told you. That the person who had been living here left the house empty and it s been that way for almost a decade, I believe. Francis said as they descended the stairs.
I see, Arthur murmured, only wishing for more information about the Little Hero and his grandfather. Perhaps he would find out at school. Suddenly, going to school didn t seem so terrible anymore.
After rushing through lunch, Arthur ran back up both sets of stairs to his bedroom and hurriedly started unpacking, hoping to gain some free time to explore the woods around there house a little bit before having to go to bed. He wanted to see where the hiking trails went to, and possibly find a good reading spot to make his way through each of the stories.
It must have been how eager he was to read the stories, but Arthur was much faster with his work over the next few hours. Despite the amount of boxes, he was surprised how little was actually packed inside of them. Maybe it was all the extra space to store things, but he really was surprised to find all of the boxes other than the ones containing his clothes emptied long before sunset. Proud of his work, he quickly ran down the stairs and showed Francis. Francis then said he could go and play outside if he wanted, but he had to make sure not to go too far out into the woods. Grabbing up a few of the several stories written for the Little Hero, he hurried downstairs and down into the backyard.
Taking a deep breath before heading down one of the two hiking trails, Arthur realized for the first time how different the air smelled out in the country. It didn t smell of smog and exhaust, but more of wildflowers and trees. According to Francis s rules, he had to stay within sight of the house, where Francis could see him just out of one of the windows, so Arthur didn t go too far into the forest, choosing to climb one of the first trees he saw. The tree had low branches and looked almost as if other children had played on it and climbed the branches just as he was doing now. Maybe the Little Hero did. Come to think of it, he had no clue how old the Little Hero really was. The Little Hero might be little no longer. However, Arthur couldn t help but picture the Little Hero to be a young boy about his age, someone he could play with and tell jokes to, just like his friends at his old school.
Smiling to himself at all the good memories he had with his old friends, he began to read.
He quickly found that the stories weren t all meant for a young adult, but some dealt with concepts like the first day of school (which he easily related to) and being kind to everyone, even if you didn t like them. They were all interesting stories, with characters that were easy to visualize and included thoughts that connected and were easy to follow. Slowly, he could see himself in most of the stories, the ways Francis had tried to raise him doing the best he could even though he was only eighteen himself, and he thought of how much more grateful he should have been to his older brother. Francis was the closest thing he had to a parent, since both of his were always away. Arthur really loved the stories and dreaded the thought of reading the last one. He loved them, and he couldn t help but feel a connection to the caring man who wrote them, wishing that he could have known his grandparents and wondering if they would have been this thoughtful.
Before long, Francis called him back inside for dinner, and Arthur was surprised to see how many boxes he had unpacked on his own, telling himself that the next day he would make sure to come and help Francis.
The next few days passed this way, with Arthur sleeping in and then helping unpack, followed by playing in their yard and the forest. The stories were always on his mind, and he read them every spare second he could. Then, far too soon, Monday came. With Monday came big changes that he tried to put on a brave face to accept.
It was time for his first day at his new school.
Arthur, Francis murmured to him, shaking his shoulder to wake him up for his first day. It s time to wake up for school. Arthur groaned but tugged his covers away and rubbed his eyes. As much as he dreaded the day, he knew Francis was right when he said to be optimistic. After all, the Little Hero might be there, and might even be his age.
I have pancakes ready for you downstairs. I have to go in for work today, so I won t be home until about four to four-thirty, alright? Francis asked, silently hoping that Arthur would be able to handle being alone for a little while. He felt that Arthur was old enough to be alone for that time without getting a sitter, and he didn t want to embarrass the boy by hiring one in the first place.
I ll be fine. Arthur said, stretching and going to his closet to pick out his outfit for the day.
Okay, once you get home, stay inside and keep all the doors and windows locked until I get home, alright? Yes. Arthur said, and Francis hugged him before going back down the stairs to continue getting ready.
After washing his face and brushing his teeth and hair, Arthur grabbed his school things and ran down the stairs to meet Francis in the kitchen for breakfast. Smiling as he ate the pancakes and fresh strawberries, his older brother seemed to take note of how cheery Arthur seemed, for just a few days ago he had dreaded this day. The boy seemed more at ease and almost excited to get to school, and if Francis didn t know Arthur as well as he did, he would have thought something was up.
You are excited for your first day, no? Francis gave Arthur a winning smile when he said it.
Well, I decided to actually give it a chance. Since we probably won t be moving any time soon, I just though that having a sour attitude wouldn t make it any better. Arthur said, biting into the last bit of pancake he had left.
I m glad you re thinking that way. Francis said, glancing at a clock hanging in the corner, Ah! It s time to go now, we have to hurry! Come on, come on. Arthur placed his dishes in the sink and raced to the car, and the two were off to school and work for the day.
School was just as Arthur had expected. He was the bright, shiny star that had recently been discovered and everyone wanted to know about him. He heard his name be whispered in the halls a lot and had to go through the embarrassing ritual that all teachers seemed to have with new students. He had to stand up in front of the whole class and say his name, where he was from, his favorite subject, etc. It was a small school and he was one of the only new students that year, and hadn t really found anyone worth being friends with. Until recess.
He had been planning to get through his first few days sitting on a bench in the back of the playground rereading some of his books, but found himself to be interrupted by someone he found quite interesting.
Hi! A boy said, sitting beside him. The boy had blonde hair a bit darker than his own and bright, blue eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses. He was a little bit taller than Arthur and very enthusiastic, his smile never once leaving his face.
Hello. Arthur replied, putting his bookmark on the page he had left off on. I m Arthur Kirkland, if you hadn t already heard he blushed sheepishly and looked at the ground, kicking at a small rock with the toe of his shoe.
Well, I m the hero! But you can call me Alfred. The boy jabbed a thumb at his chest and somehow managed to smile more, but it was what he called himself that caught Arthur s attention more than his display of confidence.
The hero? Arthur had asked, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he had met the Little Hero that the grandfather had spoken so fondly of.
Yeah! Alfred laughed, That s what grandpa always calls me anyway. He tells me that I ll do great things someday. He was the Little Hero! It all clicked! Arthur thought excitedly.
Really? I never got to meet either of my grandfathers I m sure they d like you. I like you! Alfred said, his excitement not fading for a moment, telling Arthur that he wasn t lying.
Well, I haven t really found anyone to be friends with, yet. Arthur said, looking up into Alfred s blue eyes.
Alfred just gasped.
What? Arthur asked, hoping he hadn t accidentally offended him.
I thought I would be your friend. He mumbled.
Arthur smiled what must have been his first real, genuine smile since he moved there. Of course you can be my friend, silly! Awesome! Alfred said, holding his fist out. Arthur stared at him for a moment. What was he doing? Was Alfred going to hit him? What kind of friend would Alfred be then? Certainly not the Little Hero!
It s a fist bump, you re supposed to hit your fist against mine. Oh Arthur said, blushing and doing as he was told. How could he have been so foolish to think that Alfred would hit him?
Looks like you have a lot to learn about being friends with the hero! Alfred laughed, Don t worry, I ll teach you. I m going to assume that s a good thing. Arthur laughed, already thinking that he liked it here much better than at his old home.
Thus his friendship with the Little Hero was started. Years passed, and the two were always together and told each other everything, and then the day came that Arthur finally told Alfred about the stories.
It turned out that Alfred s grandfather had lived in Arthur s house before he did, and was always talking about the stories. He would often ask Alfred if he had read the stories and what he had learned from them, but no one ever knew what he was talking about. Everyone knew that Alfred s grandfather had Alzheimer s and probably didn t even know what he was talking about. Alfred never had an answer for his grandfather when he would ask about the stories, and was crushed when he still didn t have an answer the day his grandfather died. Until the day when Arthur handed over the much loved stories to their rightful owner. Arthur was a bit ashamed of reading and keeping what wasn t meant for him, but Alfred didn t mind. A few short weeks after Arthur had given the stories to Alfred, Alfred had returned them to Arthur, because though they had a special place in his heart, he could tell that they meant a lot to Arthur.
The day Alfred gave them back to Arthur, he hadn t said a word to him. He just stuck the stack of papers carefully in Arthur s arms and turned to walk away, when Arthur stopped him by pulling him into a hug. It was quite possibly the best moment of his entire life.