Sam touched his forehead with his fingers. He told the man that he had a headache(which was true). The man nodded.

"Absolutely, son. That's enough borrowing for today." He said, leading Sam to the opposite end of the dresser they were standing on. The man leapt off the edge, landing on a cushioned chair. Sam followed him. From there it was a short jump to the floor.

Behind the dresser was a hole in the wall. Sam followed the man who, evidently, was his father, into the hole and up a ladder made of staples. A few feet up, they stepped onto a platform. A woman was working in a makeshift kitchen.

In fact, everything was makeshift. Everything was made out of something else. It gave Sam a new perspective.

Sam's host's father motioned for him to sit. Sam sat on a chair made out of a matchbox.

"So, how did the borrowing go?" the woman asked.

"The what?" Sam asked.

Ignoring 'Sam', his host's father answered, "Oh, good. Pin here almost fell off the dresser, but otherwise, pretty good."

"'Fell off the dresser?'" The woman dropped what she was doing and rushed over to Sam, examining him from head to toe. "Are you alright?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay, mother," he guessed. She walked away from him.

"Well, good."

Sam heard his friend, Al's voice outside, calling Sam's name. He sighed.

"I think I'm gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air." he said, making an excuse.

"Alright, Pin. Be back soon. Supper'll be ready in a few minutes." Sam nodded and descended the staple-ladder.

He emerged from behind the dresser. He looked (way) up at Al.

Al wore a bright red suit with a dark purple tie. He had a cigar in his mouth and was fiddling the handlink, his only communication with Ziggy.

"Come on, Sam. I know you're in here!" he said around his cigar.

"Al!" Sam whispered fiercely.

Al looked around. "Where are you?" he asked.

"Down here!"

Al finally turned in the right direction, looking down at Sam. He came down to one knee.

"Whoa, Sam! What the hell happened?"

"Isn't that what you're supposed to tell me?" Sam said.

"Oh! Yeah." Al sat down. Even then, he towered over Sam.

Al pushed a few buttons on the handlink. "Uh…your name is Pin Wall-Painting, you're five and a quarter inches tall, you live in the walls and under the floor of the Pruitt's house in England. The mother and the father have two children: a teenage boy, about thirteen, and a teenage daughter, about fifteen."

"Yeah, yeah, and I have a mother and a father. Now tell me, why the HELL am I FIVE INCHES TALL?"

"Uh, well…" Al pushed more buttons, whacking the handlink once or twice. "Well, you're a borrower." He said, like it explained everything.

Sam said nothing for a moment. "And…what's a borrower?" he asked.

Al narrowed his eyes, reading the information. "Umm…. Someone who borrows things they need from people. They have nothing of their own, and that's why they do that."

"O…kay?" Sam said. "So, why am I here, then?"

"Well, in the original history, you get caught on your first time out borrowing on your own by the teenage boy. His name's Jack." Al pressed a few more buttons on the handlink. "uh, Ziggy found his journal for English class, where he wrote about a borrower named Pin."

"So? It's a stupid school assignment."

"Well, he writes about hunting him down and poisoning 'it' the next time he sees 'it'," he said, making air quotes whenever he said 'it'.

Sam's eyes widened. "That seems a little violent for thirteen."

Al shrugged. "He thinks you're vermin. In his mind, poisoning you would be right."

"So I'm here to save this family?"

"I guess so, that's what Ziggy says at least."

Sam sighed. "Alright. Get back to me on that."

"You got it Sam. I'm going back, see if I can make this program Gushie found work." A door opened out of nowhere that seemed to lead to plain whiteness. "See ya in a bit, Sam." He stood and exited through that door which closed behind him.

Sam, now alone, headed back to his host's home.