My mother was waiting with supper.
She'd made spaghetti that night. I showed her the borrowings and put the matches in their place.
I sat down at the table and poured some spaghetti fragments onto a coin, which served as a plate. Our forks were made of dull bent wire, and our knives out of sharpened aluminum foil.
As we ate, I heard the teenage boy say loudly, "Mom! Have you seen my iPod?" She answered, "No, Taylor."
So, his name's Taylor, I thought.
Mom and I talked about our day. As I stuffed pasta chunks into my mouth, I thought about the house, and mom and I being the only ones left.
I must've looked glum, because my mother asked, "What's wrong, Edds?" Edds is my nickname.
"I don't know." I answered. "I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"Well…" I started, "it just gets so lonely up here in this house. I feel like I could talk to one of the BEANS, I'm so alone. I mean…what if…what if we are the last ones?"
My mother clicked her tongue. "Oh, don't worry about that. I am more than certain that there are millions of borrowers in Virginia alone." She reassured.
"Yeah, I guess." I said. I swallowed another mouthful of spaghetti. "I think I'll turn in. I'm real tired from borrowing."
"Alright, Edds. Sweet dreams."
My bed is made from an old sardine can with a mattress, blankets, and pillows that my mother made. I had borrowed many things to decorate it, like buttons, post-it notes, pencil leads, and a felt doormat. My bedroom door is made from an old debit card. I have a chest of drawers made from several matchboxes, which holds my pants, shirts, accessories, and candles.
I sat down on my bed, thinking about my conversation with my mom. I still wasn't convinced, and I still felt alone.
I was exhausted and didn't want to think about it. I changed into my all-black pajamas, got into bed and fell asleep almost immediately.
Unfortunately, I had a terrible nightmare.
In front of me was a huge bean. Beans themselves are huge, but this one is bigger than normal.
Much, MUCH bigger.
It looked down at me and lifted its foot to squish me. Naturally, I ran. It kept chasing me and chasing me until –
I sat up, breathing heavily. I sighed in relief as I realized it was a dream. Then I noticed what woke me up. There was a low thumping noise coming from upstairs. I mean, I was used to footfalls from upstairs, but this was more rhythmical. It sounded like this: Thump-thump…Thump-thump.
I laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling if my room. The thump-thumping continued. I rolled onto my side and shut my eyes tight, but I still couldn't get to sleep. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to find out what that noise was if it killed me.
I got up and grabbed my quilt in case I got cold. I changed into my borrowing clothes and hung my long hat pin from the belt loops. I didn't bother putting on shoes. I moved my chest of drawers over to the right, revealing a small hole, which I use to sneak out (please don't tell).
I ducked into it and followed the thumping sound through many dark passages until it was right above me. I found the nearest wall and used a tape-measure elevator to get up the ceiling level. I found an air vent in the "floor", dropped to my hands and knees, and looked through.
I was looking into the bathroom, and there was someone in the shower making the noise. There was also more to the noise: after the thumps were a clap and the shower-er was singing.
Buddy, you're a boy,
Make a big noise playing
In the street, gonna be a big man someday
You got mud on your face, you big disgrace
Kicking your can all over the place, singing
We will, we will rock you!
They were actually a good singer. The song was very catchy, and I started clapping along.
Which was a mistake, because my hands were all dusty. The dust got all over my face, and I sneezed.
I gasped as the bean in the shower stuck his head out. I backed up a little, but I could see well enough to recognize the bean as Taylor, the teenage boy.
He looked around, shrugged, and continued stomping, clapping, and singing. I breathed a relieved sigh.
The shower turned off. I averted my eyes as Taylor stepped out of the shower and clothed himself. When I looked back, he was brushing his black hair. He was styling it so that the front part covered his right eye and the rest spiked up in all different directions.
I made a move to get up. As I did, my quilt fell through the vent. "No!" I whispered hoarsely. I reached through the vent, but it was too late. It fell onto the bathroom counter.
As he set down the hairbrush, he noticed my quilt. "What the –"he said, picking it up. It looked so small in his hands. He rolled his eyes. "Probably Lucy's. Naw, I'm keeping this one." He walked out of the bathroom.
"Crap!" I exclaimed. I learned that term from the beans. I ran as fast as I could through the walls until I reached the vent in Taylor's room. I watched as he set my quilt down on the top shelf of his bookshelf and started typing on his computer. "Okay," I whispered to myself. I walked through the walls, turned the molding, and stepped onto Taylor's bookshelf. I looked. My quilt was right on the edge of the shelf and Taylor was watching videos with headphones in. I stepped forward, very lightly. As I got closer to the edge, I crouched lower. I ignored the sound of contents being spilled.
Finally, I grabbed the quilt. I stood up. Taylor was no longer on the computer. "Hmm." I said. I turned around and headed back toward the molding.
"HEY!" I heard from behind me, and then I was encased in darkness.
I was in some kind of cylindrical box, just big enough for me. It started to slide, dragging me over the edge of the shelf. I landed on a hardcover book; I gasped as I was moved around. The box turned on its side. I backed up and glued myself to the back of the box. Then it was turned upside down.
I heard a rubbing noise right outside the box, as if the boy were repositioning his fingers. I stood up as I felt the box get set down.
The book was removed. The boy peered inside.
I cringed, clutched my head, and curled into a ball. I couldn't stop thinking about how nany horrible things could happen to me. This was the worst thing that could happen! I've been seen!
I could feel his giant eyes staring at me.
"What the..."
"Get it over, fast."
He yelped in surprise. He shoved the box, probably out if reflex. I grunted as the box tipped and fell forward. I dropped onto my knees, my stiff neck cracking.
When I lifted my head, I saw that the boy had taken a few steps back and was pointing a huge finger at me.
"You—did you just—you can…talk" he stammered.
"Yeah, I can talk. Now, you're going to squish me, so just get it OVER. QUICK."
He took a cautious step forward as if I could jump him any second.
"Squish you? Why would I squish you?" he asked.
I hesitantly shifted my legs so that I sat on them.
"You're a bean. That's what beans do: squish people like me."
He took another step forward. "What's a bean? You keep calling me that."
"You are." I said, like it was obvious. Which it was. "You know, a human bean?"
He stared at me blankly. "I think you're mistake. I'm a human being"
"That's what I said. Human bean."
"OK, you know what, never mind." he said.
I stood. "Why won't you squish me then?" I asked.
"Well, it's not every day that I get to talk to a tiny person." he answered.
"I'm not tiny!" I protested. "You're huge!"
He scoffed. "Whatever."
He lifted his hand, palm up, near the box. "Are you gonna come out?" he offered.
I gasped and glued myself to the back of the box.
"Don't worry. It's safe." He assured.
I shook my head vigorously.
His eyes softened. "Please." He said.
Wringing my hands, I stepped forward. I took another step. Then another. Then another. Cautiously and with great hesitation, I did something that no borrower had ever done before.
I stepped onto his hand, kneeling on one knee.
He lifted me closer to his face.
"Wow," he exclaimed.
"Yeah," I agreed.