Everyone needs a little Hero

Inhale, Exhale

There were a lot of things Hero didn't understand about humans. He had watched them for most of his life to better understand how to not be seen by them, but there were some things that he just didn't understand.

He knew they retrieved their food supplies from something called a "store," but how big was it? And where did they get their food?

The little boxes they played with were called phones and they had to make sure to be careful since those could take pictures – moments frozen in time. Those were dangerous, if not more dangerous, than being caught.

But, of all the things, there was one instance he observed once when going out with his older sister Cali. There was a family on one of the floors with a son. The boy was younger than Hero, but it couldn't be by too much; five years at most.

Sometimes, the boy would get excited when the family played together. It didn't seem to matter what the game was. Cards, board games, videos, and action figures all seemed to help bring whatever this thing was. The boy, whose name was Sam, would start coughing, which would turn into wheezing.

When Sam started either of these things, his parents would coax him into calming down and breathing deeply. Sam sometimes gasped for air. That was when the parents grabbed some weird "L" shaped device a couple of times when the breathing didn't seem to be working and told Sam to breathe into the contraption.

It didn't happen a lot, but it was enough for Hero to be curious about. So, when he and his sister were out borrowing, he asked her about it. The family was gone at the time, out on some errand, so Cali and Hero were out on the countertop getting bread from the bags. The device in question, whatever it was, lay on the other side of the counter. Hero could see something sticking out of the end and the other side had some kind of cap on it.

"Cali? What is that thing he breathes into?" Cali stopped untwisting the paper and metal tie at the end of the bag and glanced at it.

"That? I'm not really sure, but I think it's called an 'inhaler.'" Cali replied as she finished untwisting the tie and opened the end of the bag. Hero stared at the inhaler absent-mindedly, noting the cartoon sticker of faded red, white, and blue on the back of it.

"Oh," noted Hero, now becoming more curious. "And he needs it? I mean, what does it do?"

"I don't know. Why do you want to know?" asked Cali, finally managing to get part of the crumpled corner free inconspicuously and wrestling it from the rest of the loaf. "Get over here and open your bag." Hero stepped over and opened the pack on his back.

The young Borrower knew pressing his sister would only lead to her asking more questions – and he couldn't have her doing that. Instead, he shrugged.

"Just curious," he muttered in reply.

His family didn't know that he had snuck out that night and, thankfully, didn't know he may have been seen by that older woman about a week ago. They didn't know about his so-called "secret life" of being a hero and that's how he wanted it.

The shrug seemed to pacify Cali, but she was very intuitive and, like their parents, seemed to just know things. Hero elected to help in silence for the rest of their borrowing trip and helped his mother and father with dinner so Cali would go about her business.

It wasn't until after dinner and when Hero was tucked snugly in his bed staring up at the tiny dots of light cast by the covered Christmas light in the corner of his room that he let his mind wander.

I want to help, but how can I? Sam already seems to be well taken care of by his parents. I know he has a hard time breathing. I don't think me breathing can help him. His parents aren't that far away usually. Should I just wait? See if he needs something else?