Sadako was at the entrance, one hand on a support post, peering around for them with a hand up to shade her eyes from the sun. "There you are. Come on in, Harriet."
"Arrietty, Aunt Sadako, Arrietty."
"Oh, dear me. Is it Arrietty? Of course I meant Arrietty. Come on it."
Arrietty copied Sho, slipping off her shoes in the step-up area just beyond the door and putting on the house shoes he handed her. She tripped over the step, gaping up at the high ceiling above and the lovely three-paneled stained glass window over the door. Sho caught her elbow.
"I hope you can make yourself comfortable here," Sadako was saying. Once again, she missed what was going on behind her. "I'll have Haru make you up a cot in the spare room in case you want to lie down. It's hot today, isn't it?" And she wiped at her hairline, glad to be inside the cool house. "Haru! Haru!"
Arrietty gulped, expecting thunderous steps and perhaps a fee-fi-fo-fum. Instead, she heard an ordinary middle-aged voice, rather dry in quality.
"Coming, miss."
There was a shuffle of house slippers, and Haru appeared. Arrietty stared.
Haru wasn't one hundred feet tall. She was an older lady, on the short side, spry but a little stooped, with cropped hair and a face that was neither frightening nor benevolent.
Why, Arrietty realized, I'm taller than she is.
Sho's elbow landed in her ribs, and she realized that Sadako had just introduced her. She sucked in a breath. "Pleased to meet you," she said hastily, and copied Haru's bow. A furry warmth around her ankles startled her at this point, ruining the tail end of her bow.
"Ahh!" Haru abandoned formalities and stumped forward menacingly. "You're not supposed to be inside!"
Arrietty shrank back, frightened in spite of herself, but Sho stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder.
"I'll take him outside," he reassured Haru, and Arrietty realized that he was talking about Niya, who had slipped in after them while the door was open. He scooped the cat up.
"And I want you to sit and rest after that," Sadako ordered. "You've had a tiring day."
"Sure, Aunt Sadako." Sho tilted his head at Arrietty. "Come on, let's go to the back porch."
"I'll have Haru bring you out some iced tea," Sadako called after them.
"Can I have sandwiches too?"
"Of course, Sho." Haru looked annoyed, but with Sho himself more than the request. "What kind?"
Sho looked at Arrietty, who held her palms up. All she'd ever had to choose from was butter and cheese. Other things, with their lids and seals, were too dangerous to Borrow.
Sho decided for both of them. "Tuna, please?"
"Very well."
"And make sure he gets some raw milk," Sadako interjected. "It's in the car trunk, Haru."
Sho made a face. Haru saw and answered Sadako with something more like enthusiasm. "Right away, miss."
X X X
Sho led her through the foyer, into a hallway, and paused. "Want to see the kitchen?"
She was biting her knuckles, she realized. "Later," was all she could manage. He nodded, and they passed on into the richly furnished living room. She recognized the fireplace, and the view of the four sets of French doors, having seen them from this side - ever so briefly - from his shoulder. She could see so much more now... and so much less. She peeked down at the floor, wondering where her father's tunnels ran.
"Come on." Sho put Niya down and flopped in one of the wrought iron chairs by the table, panting. He looked tired, but not as frail as he had this morning, somehow. Not as... see-through. Niya, content to stay outside if Sho was with him, curled up under the table and went to sleep. "Are you hungry?"
"Yes," Arrietty said feelingly, after consulting her stomach. She was, but she'd been so tied in knots that she couldn't realize it earlier. "Are you?"
"Yes, actually." He wiped an arm over the table, clearing off a layer of dust and carelessly wiping it on his pants. "I hope I can keep it down."
"Is it so hard?" Arrietty couldn't imagine not being able to eat. A Borrower who couldn't eat, soon couldn't Borrow. Not to mention that her health had always been excellent.
"Some days more than others."
A door opened. Silverware clanked on a wooden tray. House slippers shuffled through the living room, closer and closer. Arrietty jumped up, heart in her throat, but found her hands pinned to the table.
"Sit down," Sho said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Her temper flared.
"Don't tell me what to do!"
"Oh." His brows lifted. "Are you scared?"
If looks could kill, hers would have burned off a few layers of skin.
"Prove it. Sit down."
She sat down and jerked her hands away. Haru came outside, carefully balancing a large tray. Even through the red haze over her vision, Arrietty had to admire the practiced way Haru brought the tray down to a soundless landing and handed out dishes and chopsticks and forks, set out glasses and poured without ever seeming to stop moving. An elegant porcelain jug of iced tea reigned from the middle; Arrietty got lost in the cobalt blue patterns of koi and water lilies. The sandwiches were cut into overstuffed quarters and arranged prettily on a plate along with sprigs of parsley, and there were crackers with the tea.
"Raw milk for you, Sho," Haru said slyly. "Make sure you drink all of it." And she went away.
"Eh, raw milk." Sho swirled his glass with all the enthusiasm of a child taking cod liver oil. "I guess there's no getting out of it..."
Arrietty's anger fought with Arrietty's curiosity. As had been the case before, she found a way to combine them. "I bet it tastes awful."
Sho's smile was quicker than the flick of a minnow's tail; then he was so serious that she doubted what she'd seen. "Have you ever had milk?"
She blinked. "Never wanted it," she sniffed. Which was patently untrue. Milk was stored in tall closed containers, in the enormous and (to a Borrower) tightly sealed refrigerator. There was no way to get in and, worse, no way to get out if one did get in; Borrowing from glasses left out recently enough not to be soured was out of the question during the day, and by night time such leftover milk had usually found its way into Niya's dish or curdled in a most unappetizing manner. She had always wondered what it tasted like, if it didn't taste like butter or cheese.
Sho found an empty tea cup on the tray and poured the top off his glass. "Why not try it? I will if you will."
Arrietty sniffed the tea cup suspiciously, but the milk was too cold to give off much scent. So she narrowed her eyes and drank, daintily, small sips. Sho's gaze was daring her to make a face and she was determined not to, so she was unprepared for the deliciously creamy flavor. She forgot about Sho and drank it all, then looked longingly at the bottom of the empty tea cup.
"I can't decide if it's good or not," she said guardedly, after a minute, and held her cup out for a refill. "I need another taste."
Sho complied, his knuckles brushing hers, but she held up a hand when the tea cup was half full. His hands had been cold, even on this warm day, colder than her hands, colder than the table. "You too," she said. "You said you would."
"Oh, all right."
X X X
"Does it look different?"
"Well... a little." Arrietty shook her head. "No, a lot. A lot different. But still... somehow the same."
The night air stirred her hair. She was hanging out the window, looking down across the roof, at the garden and pond beyond. Her pajamas showed pale under the quarter moon. The cot Haru had made up for her creaked under her bare feet.
She looked to the left, at Sho's window. It hadn't taken long for Sadako's invitation to translate into a request to stay the night. A little later she'd remembered to offer to call Arrietty's folks so they wouldn't worry, but Arrietty had told her that she already had. It was the closest thing to the truth Arriety had felt safe in offering. Sho had glanced at her sideways but waited til later for explanations... for everything.
She could feel the crowded spare room behind her. It made strange little noises as everything cooled and contracted after the heat of the day, and she could almost imagine the room was full of busy little Borrowers. But it wasn't. She was, as far as she knew, the only Borrower here right now.
Sho was hanging out his window too. It hadn't taken Arrietty long to figure out how to remove the screens, and Sho followed suit quickly. It was the kind of pleasant summer night that made you want to drink the air. Once in a while the ivy on the roof rustled under a touch of wind, and Sho's hair would glimmer and stir, but otherwise it was still. "Do you think Spiller took your message back?"
Arrietty blew in frustration. "I hope so. I do think he would have said something if there was anything bad going on back home, but it's hard to tell with him."
"I'll find a way to get you there tomorrow," Sho promised. "I'll asked Aunt Sadako if we can have a picnic. We can invite Sissy too. Then her folks won't mind us being in their fields."
Sho, too, could be artful. Arrietty lowered her voice. "What if Haru comes?"
"She won't." Sho was smug. "She's terrified of snakes. I'll tell her they're everywhere."
Arrietty giggled. "Poor Haru. I used to be scared of her, but now..."
She trailed off, remembering meeting the maid in the hall after she'd had a bath - more wondrous hot water - and changed into pajamas. Haru had had to look up at Arrietty, instead of the other way around.
"But now?" Sho prompted.
Arrietty shrugged, struggling to express the mix of compassion and relief she'd felt when she realized that Haru was just a bored old person who didn't feel important to anyone. "I... I can't be mad at her anymore. What she did was terrible, but I... I don't think she was trying to be bad. I bet she thought she was looking out for Aunt Sadako, somehow. Trying to be a super good housekeeper."
"It's easy to be bad without trying," Sho said regretfully, and she knew he was thinking it was his fault that the Clocks had had to leave.
"Look, if you're going to think about it that way, you might as well go full tilt and blame me." She shook her head. "Anyway, I'm here now. Let's worry about what we're going to do after tomorrow - I can't stay here forever."
Sho wanted to argue, but knew she was right. Even if Sadako consented to her staying the rest of the summer - unlikely - eventually he would recover and have to go home. Arrietty might be Human Bean sized now, but the two of them were still children pitted against an adult world, a world in which big people made the rules. "If you were small again, I could take you with me..."
Silence. Then, softly, "I'm not sure I want to be small again," Arrietty said.
"Well well." He was smug. " So you like being a 'Human Bean' better than being a Borrower."
"Hey. I told you I'm still a Borrower." She leaned out of her window threateningly. "And I'm bigger than you now. Don't make me come over and clout you."
He laughed in the choked way people do when they're trying not to be loud but can't help themselves. "I dare you."
She switched tracks. "I'm not fighting with an invalid," she sniffed, and pulled her window half down.
"Hey, wait!" He forgot himself and raised his voice.
"Shh! Stupid!" But she opened her window again.
She was here for tonight, at least. He was determined to be happy. "Hey, do you think we could climb down on the roof and watch the stars?"
"Don't you dare! What if you fell off?"
X X X
Something woke her in the night. She lay there a moment, disoriented. It was dark. The moon had gone down. There was only starlight, and cold air spilling in under the partly open window. Crickets sang and buzzed outside, and she heard an owl call. She wondered if Spiller was out there tonight, hunting.
She heard it again, what she hadn't been conscious enough to recognize; a muffled cry. Sho.
She threw off her blankets and tiptoed through the overstuffed room, barking her shins on something large and heavy - probably the sculptured bust, she thought sourly. Finally she found the doorknob.
The only light in the hall was from the windows at the ends, and it wasn't much, but it was just a few steps to Sho's door. She eased the bolt in and out, not wanting to wake Sadako. Haru stayed in her apartment next to the garage when she wasn't housekeeping, so that wasn't a worry right now.
Sho was tossing in his blankets; she could hear that much. Arrietty groped forward and found the edge of the bed, not wanting to turn on the lights; Haru, if she were up, would be sure to see that and ask questions tomorrow, and Arrietty didn't want to deal with that. She reached down and pinned his shoulder to the mattress, followed it down to his hand, folded his over in hers. The cords of his arm were tensed.
"Sho. It's a dream. Wake up..."
She could tell from his breathing that he had. "Arrietty?" he said weakly.
She eased herself into a perch on the edge of the mattress. "I'm here."
"Thank God." His arm went limp. "I dreamed that... something... ate you, and it was all my fault..."
"Shh." Her maternal instincts stirred, and she brushed his bangs away from his forehead, stroke on gentle stroke, as her mother had done for her when she was little. "I'm here. I'm fine." Then, remembering what Sadako had said, "You're not going to throw up, are you?" If she had to find a bucket, the light had to come on, Haru or no Haru. The only bathroom was downstairs and she didn't think it would be a great idea to drag Sho all the way down there.
Sho laughed, quietly, but she could feel it. "No, I'm good."
She reached out and smoothed the blankets over him with her free hand, as best she could, then sat quietly, stroking his hand. His breathing softened and she thought he had fallen asleep until he spoke. "...All the time."
"What?" She leaned in to hear him.
"I have that dream all the time. I hope..." And he sighed. "I usually throw up afterwards. I hope it'll go away now."