Royden ran up the stairs—he didn’t want to wait for the elevator. On the first floor he went to the main desk and found the guard sitting there.
“Do you know where tiny people live?” The guard stared at him. “Tiny people, like—I don’t know, really small people.” The guard continued to stare. “Pooly took the painters and he won’t give them back until the tiny people give back some things that the siren wants.” The guard looked both scared and completely lost. “Nevermind.” Royden said and went back to the stairs.
As he climbed higher into the building he wondered where tiny people might live. If they were really small then probably on the first few floors so they wouldn’t have to go up too far to get home.
He tried to think back to all the people he saw walking around on his wanderings when he ran into his father.
“Come back for lunch?” Mr. Doble asked.
Royden had absentmindedly come out on the fifth floor. “What? Oh, maybe, sure.”
“Cool. I’m off to work. I think we have lunchmeat in the fridge.”
Mr. Doble patted his son on the shoulder and pressed the button for the elevator.
“Dad?” Royden asked, thinking fast on what to say.
“Yeah.”
“Do you know if any tiny people live in the building?”
Mr. Doble looked at his son inquisitively. “What’s that?”
“Nevermind.”
The doors opened and Mr. Doble got in the elevator. “Why don’t you find some friends to run around with?”
He probably got that from Mrs. Doble. “Sure thing.” Royden said, not paying attention.
The doors closed. Royden went into the apartment and tried to think up what to do next. He made a quick sandwich and looked out the window at the traffic five floors below. While watching the little cars go by he suddenly remembered something that might help.
When he was on the eleventh floor the other day he saw a man talking to his hand, and in his hand there looked to be a tiny person. Royden dropped the rest of the sandwich on his plate and ran out of the apartment.
The elevator took forever to show up; it usually did when someone was in a hurry. When the doors finally creaked open Royden jumped inside and feverishly pressed the eleven button until the doors closed.
He came out on the eleventh floor slowly, thinking himself a secret agent nearing a jewel thief. He scanned the floor carefully to make sure he wouldn’t step on anyone.
Nothing looked out of the ordinary. The carpet was striped with horrible colors just like it was on every floor. All the doors looked the same. He expected to see a tiny door in a big door but there wasn’t any. There was no sign of tiny people anywhere.
The elevator opened. Royden turned to see the man he saw talking to the tiny person the other day.
“Oh, hello.” Royden said. “Where do the tiny people live?” The man looked as though he didn’t understand. “The—do you understand me?” The man didn’t respond.
Royden talked into his hands, trying to recreate what he saw the other day. The man put a finger in his ear, a little too far, and twisted it.
“Oh, the Morrids. They live on the second floor.” He said.
“But I saw you with one the other day.”
“Yeah, the leader of the Morrids, Mr. Morrid himself, he likes to take walks with me. It’s sort of a ride to them, isn’t it?”
“I guess.”
“Can you imagine being that high off the ground in someone’s hand? It must be terrifying.”
“Sounds great, but where on the second floor.” Royden asked.
The man opened his eyes wide. “What if I dropped him?”
“Do they have a room number?” Royden tried to keep this fellow on topic, which was proving to be very difficult.
“I should really get a little seat for them that I can tie around my hand. Don’t you think?”
“Sure, now the room number—what is it?”
“Maybe something rubber.” The man went on, completely ignoring Royden.
“I don’t care.” Royden said loudly. “Pooly took painters and I need to find something the Morrids stole.”
The man finally took notice. “That is sad. You should go see the Morrids about it.”
“I’m trying.” Royden stressed. “What is the room number?”
“It’s two-zero-four.” He said loudly and slowly.
“Thank you.” Royden sighed.
He went to the elevator, which thankfully hadn’t left yet, and hit the two.
“They don’t really like visitors.” The man called as the doors closed.
“Two-zero-four—two-zero-four.” Royden repeated over and over again as the elevator took its rickety time down to the second floor.
It stopped on the fourth floor and the doors opened. Nobody was there. Royden glanced out but didn’t see anyone. He shrugged and hit the door closed button repeatedly until the doors finally closed.
“Two-zero-what? Ugh, what was it?” He groaned.
“Four.”
Royden flipped around. No one was there. He stared at the back of the elevator where the voice had come from. Slowly he reached his hand out and touched the wall. Nothing was there. The doors opened on the second floor and Royden jumped out, shook his head, and looked for the right door.
There was nothing strange about door 204. Royden shrugged and knocked. The soft ding of a bell could be heard. A few seconds later a loud voice came from inside.
“Who is it?”
“My name is Royden Doble and I’m looking for the Morrids.” Royden called.
“Do you live in the building?”
“Yes.”
The door unlocked with a click. Royden went in.
The floor was covered with a sprawling miniature city. A main road connected the apartment’s door with a town square. On both sides of the road stood little shacks made out of construction paper. They ranged in color and most had cone shaped roofs. Royden could see the tape holding them together. The circular town square had little cardboard shops. In the center stood a three foot tall person made out of used toilet paper rolls. It looked to be some type of grand statue compared to the houses. The toilet paper roll man’s face was drawn in by marker. Past the circular town square were more houses. These were made of wood and some had three to four levels with articulate designs painted on.
Royden shut the door slowly and quietly moved to the edge of the paper shacks. He knelt down to get a better look at the sprawling city. It took him several seconds to see that off to the right near the wall was a microphone with a tiny little person on a platform near the top. The little man couldn’t have been any bigger than two inches tall.
“State your business.” The man said through the microphone.
“I need to talk to your leader. I have heard that one of you stole some things belonging to the siren downstairs.” Royden said nervously. He didn’t know what to expect. This was his first time as a giant in a tiny city after all. He tried to sound tough.
“The evil siren deserves what was stolen from her.” The little man said, sounding much more formidable than Royden. “Everything she has she stole from others. We took what she had for the good of everyone.” He pointed towards the town square.
Between the feet of the toilet paper statue was a large greenish-blue stone surrounded by tiny diamonds, all set in gold.
“That’s it.” Royden said. “I’m going to have to take that. Do you have the comb or the necklace perhaps?”
“You shall never take our majestic stone. It is a symbol of Morrid conquest and—” The little man stopped suddenly. He quickly stepped away from microphone and climbed down from the platform to the floor. A much older tiny man appeared and climbed up the platform and stood before the microphone. He had a long grayish-white beard and wore black robes. The ding of a bell sounded throughout the small apartment.
“That’s all people, you can come out now. The drill is over.” The tiny old man said.
Little people came out of every small house and shop all over the city. There were hundreds of them. People of all ages stood in the streets or hung out of windows. Every one of them craned their necks up to look at Royden, who waved nervously.
“Mr. Giant Boy,”
“Royden.”
“Mr. Giant Boy Royden, I am Master Morrid, the leader of the gallant Morrid people. It was I who brought our almost destroyed civilization off the streets to this great land. I can tell you right now that if you think you can steal our great stone you are mistaken.”
“You stole it first.” Royden pointed out.
“We won it in battle.” Master Morrid growled.
“Battle? You fought the siren?”
“Not all battles involve fighting.”
“Sure they do.”
“The point,” Master Morrid said angrily, “is that you will not leave here with our mighty stone.”
Royden looked around the city. “Where is the comb?”
“We could not secure the mighty comb.” The old man said through barred teeth.
“So where is it?” Royden asked.
“The evil gremlins took it.”
“The what?”
“The evil gremlins of the basement country.”
“Are you serious right now? Are there really gremlins?”
“Of course there are gremlins.” Master Morrid said. “They are vial creatures who stole away our precious comb as we were bringing our treasure here. They took some of our best soldiers away as well.”
Royden stood up and stretched, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “Alright, where are these things again?”
“In the basement country.” Master Morrid repeated.
“I’ll deal with that later. First I need to get that pendant. Oh, wait, where’s the necklace?”
“The long string of giant pearls have been separated and given to the families of the soldiers who survived the gremlin attack.”
Royden could see shiny pearls decorating some of the bigger wood houses in the back of the city. “Alright, whatever, she said the comb and pendant were most important. If you don’t mind I am going to have to take that pendant now.” Royden said. He was starting to feel powerful in that tiny city with its tiny little inhabitants.
“Never!” Master Morrid shouted through the microphone. “Everyone, attack! Kill the intruder. He means to take our treasure of conquest.”
Instantly teeny arrows flew from the streets up to Royden.
“Hey! Stop that.” Royden shouted.
They didn’t hurt that much and bounced off him, but it was still rude.
Royden angrily walked up the main street toward the pendant. Tiny screams erupted from everywhere as the little people ran out of the way. Several of them jumped onto the pendant. Royden grabbed it, flicked the little people off, and put it in his pocket.
“I’m sorry about this.” He said, going to the door. “But you need to stop stealing things.”
“Quick, lock him in!” Master Morrid shouted.
A string was tied to the door lock and two tiny people pulled it. The door locked.
“Oh please!” Royden cried, ripping the string off the handle. He went out into the hall and slammed the door shut.