The Menehunea

A Story by Goldie2224

This is a children's book about tiny people who live in your house. They are like leprechauns, hard to have run in's with, and they may even have some special powers.

The story of The Menehune

One stormy night, Peter laid awake on his pillow top bed beneath his green camo comforter, terrified of the thunder and lightning that brewed beyond his window. His father wandered into his bedroom just as a rumbling coursed through the sky. Peter grasped his covers upon his head, “oh peter don’t be frightened of the storm. You are almost seven years old now and,” then the house went dark. “Dad?” peter said softly and his father replied “it’s alright now” and he turned his flashlight on right below his chin. The light shown luminescent on each edge of his face leaving the eyes pitch black and a glowing face hovering in the dark. Peter jumped, startled of his father’s appearance “that’s not funny dad” and he pushed his hands across his bed flattening the covers back down. “Don’t worry peter the lights will be on soon, besides there’s nothing to fear in the dark” his father had been inching his hands closer to peters feet as he spoke and “ yikes!” peter yelped as his father had grabbed ahold of his toes. He father bowed back in a roar of laughter as peter sulked back against his headboard crossing his arms “what about the monsters who live in the dark, I think heard footsteps last night?” he said with an inquisitive look. Peters father straightened up and laid the flash light on his nightstand with a thud and gingerly sat next to peter “let me tell you a story of the first time I laid eyes on The Menehune, and then you won’t fret of monsters again” his father smiled adjusting himself next to peter. “Now I may not have a fancy book but this is a tale passed down from your grandfather which you may not believe, but once you hear the tale of The Menehune, a spell is broken and they may be seen by our human eyes” his father leered and search the dim room as if there were something lurking in the darkness. “When I was about your age my father told me a tale of the magical Menehune who roamed about your house, which I laughed at and could not believe. He told me that sometimes The Menehune would take up refuge in your home unseen by the larger current residents and then slowly over time your things would go missing, just small things you wouldn’t notice things that commonly get lost. And in return The Menehune would make things grow, they would grow the vegetables in your garden, the grass in your yard, and even your children would get taller; “so The Menehune don’t just take, they give back?” peter asked, “that’s right!” his father replied “so The Menehune aren’t bad, they just need a home like you or me do. The Menehune are only a few inches tall and they have to make their cloths, houses, and other necessities from what scraps we leave behind. They look just like you and I do except there only as large as your hand, they even speak with soft high pitched whispers just loud enough for human ears”. And then peters father turned to him and spoke with a sadness in his voice “But The Menehune must always live in fear for if they are captured by humans they would be put on display and sold into carnival acts. Humans have always wanted to steal the magic of The Menehune so many have tried and some have succeeded. One Menehune is recorded in history by the famous magician P. T. Barnum who had The Menehune they called Tom Thumb who was captured and forced to work in his traveling circus. Your grandfather told me the Barnum circus had traveled into his town one weekend and this was where he had first learned the story of The Menehune straight from Barnum’s very own lips. Once my father had finished his story, I laid in bed awake thinking of how I could catch The Menehune and all the things I could do with their magic. The next day when I returned home from school I scraped together a variety of items in an attempt to lure The Menehune to my room. Where I would pretend to be sleeping, lying in wait to leap from my warm bed and catch them in a netted bag. In my basket I had yarn from my mother’s unfinished blanket, a pinch of salt from the shakers atop our dinner table, and a brown patch of cloth that had been meant to patch up a hole newly formed on the elbow of my only brown jacket. I took the basket and surveyed the best place for The Menehune to receive it and I concluded the floor by the lowest vent may be ideal for magical creatures of tiny stature. As I laid in my warm bed my imagination wandered creating grand fantasies of being a giant man with a giant house and a giant dog he could ride upon, running rampage through the town streets. I awoke the next morning just before the sun rays peaked there blazing lights in to wiggle through the creases and cracks, illuminating the dark room within. But alas this early exit from my nightly dream world gave me the edge over my sleeping family members and time for me search for evidence of the magical Menehune. My excitement quickly dwindled as I gazed over my humbly gracious basket and found no items had been taken. I quickly laid myself back into the cradle of warmth my bed provided and pondered the reasons the Menehune had not visited my room the previous night. “Maybe they only come out when they need things, and I thought they probably come out once a month, especially if they are afraid of us, maybe,” and his father jumped out of his bed walking swiftly to the bookshelf that stood opposite his bed. Touching the honey gold stained Maplewood shelf “maybe they hang from the ceilings using rubber band and pin sling shots to catapult them from place to place undetected”, his father turned to his son revealing a question look across his brow. His face suddenly lightened and he met peters eyes, he jumped to his knee and toppled over to get a close view of what lie beneath his bed “maybe they make small doorways behind furniture that goes unnoticed”? Peter had propped himself up in the bed but now began to lean over the side when his father rose and hoped over to him grabbing him at waist and spinning him into the air “who knows they could fly like fairies, magic soaring them to new heights like leaves through wind or like leprechauns popping in and out of time and space”. He proclaimed to the world as they fell together tumbling back upon peters bed, laughing together letting the ideas break through emptying into their endless space of imagination. His father told him “settle back down we are almost to the end of the story and you need to be sleeping soon and he rested gently across from peter. When I awoke the next day still nothing had been taken and for three whole weeks nothing changed from basket of care that waited patiently to be plundered. Finally on the fourth week I awoke from my sleep to the sound of rustling, like leaves as the wind lifts them from resting on the ground to a weightless airborne dance, up and down. Slowly I opened my eyes and peered into the dark room trying not to move or make a sound, I looked into that darkness waiting to see anything. And just then as I began to give up hope, thinking my mind had been playing tricks, I saw him. He was standing there behind one of my desk legs on the floor, just a few feet away from my bed staring at me and our eyes met, we starred at each other for just a few moments. And as my lips moved to utter a pleaful cry the Menehune man dashed towards my closet door faster than I could believe. He disappeared into the darkness and I scrambled to my feet after him slamming into the door as I plunged into the closet flipping the light switch. My eyes began to scan the closet after adjusting to the light, I searched for hours eventually falling asleep on my shoes and dirty cloths. I searched for years since, hoping to see the man again but I have never seen another Menehune. Now rime for bed peter the lights are back on and it is way past your bed time, peter cried “oh dad that can’t be the end of the story, will you tell me more tomorrow night”? His dad looked back at him in the doorway but just shook his head and disappeared back to his room.

The next morning peter awoke with a new found wonder and excitement for the day that lay ahead of him and as he pounced from his bed and thundered into the bathroom. After he showered and brushed his teeth he dressed for school as he heard his mother calling to him “pete! Come down for breakfast your eggs are getting cold” as the sent of bacon and eggs rose to his room. Peter ate his breakfast as his thoughts trailed off to The Menehune and what mischief they could be up to at this very moment, “were they cooking breakfast too”? Just then the school bus started honking from the bus stop outside and he rushed through the front door in a flash. When peter returned home from school the house was lit up with the promise of a delicious home cooked meal. He quickly entered the doorway and the smell of fresh cilantro and mole chicken, the sent trickled through his nose and he was entranced. His mother had just finished cooking and he helped her set the table, peter and his family enjoyed a splendid meal together. After dinner peter stormed up to his room.

The next day morning peter woke up and got ready for school but he couldn’t find his luck pencil. He knew he had left it out on his desk next to his homework. He checked all over his room, in his back pack, he even asked his mother, but no one had laid eyes on it. Peter thought “it must have been The Menehune, what could they do with my pencil”? Then peter remembered all the other things he had lost over time and how that must have meant The Menehune had been living in their house all along. Peter went off to school still in search of his lucky pencil but came up empty handed. After dinner peter went to his room to think of a way to find The Menehune and get his stuff back. He assumed they spoke English so he wrote them a note in hopes they would return his lucky pencil, he even left a new pencil to exchange. He rested easy that night knowing the Menehune would read his letter, but to his disappointment they had not returned his pencil. Peter ponders the whys as he gets ready for school and all day in his studies until finally he arrives home once more. Before bed he checks his note and climbs into bed, this night he has troubling falling asleep, he tosses and turns late into the evening finally drifting into a deep sleep. The next morning peters awakes and hurriedly looks toward the note and with a gasp he says “whoa, they returned it! I can’t believe my eyes, the stories are true.” And he holds the pencil up inspecting it to confirm it’s the same one, turning it over and over and finally laying it to rest. Then peter returns to his bed side in a daze, he wonders if he can continue to communicate with the Menehune, would they write back? He knew there was only one way to find out so for many nights peter would write notes asking different question but still getting no response. His hope began to fade and then one night his life changed forever. Weeks had passed since the incident and in the wee hours of the night peter awoke from his dreams to hear a noise coming from the darkness. Peter opened his eyes slowly but he could still see nothing. As his eyes began to adjust he thought “oh no it must be monsters, and just as his eyes began to recognize the items around him he thought “it must be the Menehune.” Then peter heard his cat meowing and he looked at Mr. Pinkerton “what are you doing in my room”? He peered in the direction Mr. Pinkerton’s gaze had settled and to his shock he saw a tiny girl trembling next to a book on the self. He gasped and Mr. Pinkerton meowed again jumping on the bed with peter. The girl made a small yelp and turned to hide her face away from the treacherous feline. “Oh I am so sorry you must be terrified, hold on I won’t let any harm come to you” peter whispered and he slowly crawled from his bed snatching the cat swiftly to the door and shutting it behind him. Peter slowly turned eyes falling upon her and their eyes finally met, to his surprise the girl was peering back with a look full of curiosity. He spoke “are you trapped up there? I can help you down where ever you need to go”. The tiny girl stared a moment longer and finally spoke “and your promise you won’t harm me or trying to imprison me, my parents have always told me never to trust a big person. They say all you big people are the same, you’d tear us limb from limb and dissect us in experiments”! Peter stood there a moment shocked by her intelligence and then replied “well I am not most big people my name is peter and it’s nice to meet you, I would shake your hand but” and he rose both hands up to his face turning them over a few times to show their size. The girl burst into a fit of laughter clutching her sides and shaking her head, “your very odd” she proclaimed. Then he turned with a solemn face “I promise on my life no harm will come to you or your family my motives or pure knowledge and to assist you from this book shelf” and he slowly rested against the edge of his bed awaiting her response. She gazed at him for what seemed an eternity and finally relaxed against the books. “Well my name is Amata and I am thirteen years old. My father is Emmett and my mother Rose are the only little people who reside in your home. We only take what we need and we are not allowed to be seen by or interact with your family” she paused watching peter “well what questions do you have”? Peter pondered questions running through his mind faster than he could make sense of them all and finally sputtered out “hh ha how did you learn to read, do you read our books”? She laughed “how could we open them they are twice our size! No we make our own books and learning material mainly verbal learning and physical teaching, we even have our own kitchens where we have tea and dinner just like you. We make our houses out of things you throw away like shoe boxes, broken toys, even old electronics. We can travel around inside the walls where we can climb, sometimes we even ride atop mice that pass by, but it is always a wild ride with those mice, and you have to watch out for the fleas”. Peter giggled at the idea of Amata on the back of a mouse and she continued “see I was using this rope to swing across your room but it broke and I fell here, that’s when your monster must have heard me”. She then pulled from her satchel a sowing pin with a rounded top and a fiercely sharp opposite end shinning in the dark. “We use things like this for protection but your furry friend is large, agile so it can be very dangerous for us little people when we venture out for supplies”. She maneuvered the pin back into her bag and simply waved her hand at peter to continue his questioning. But peter felt a great sadness for the girl as he thought about her life and spoke “I am so sorry I have been obsessed with meeting you I had no realized how dangerous it could be and how many obstacles you must encounter. Please forgive my impropriety and let me help you down from there, I’m sure you must be in a hurry to get back”. Peter pleaded and slowly inched towards Amata. She rose to her feet as his hands spread out, she placed her tiny hands on top of his and walked into his grasp, his hands cradling her so gently but solid. “Over there by the windows edge please and don’t drop me”! She squealed clutching tightly around his thumb and closing her eyes as they traveled across the room together. Once he had softly laid both hands both she leapt from his finger tips and landed securely at the base of the window sill. She turned to him and said “see that torn piece of wall paper in the corner there” pointing with her finger “yes” peter said slowly with a hint of wonder in his voice. “This is one of many doors way in which we can enter in to inside of your house”, she leaned up against the window with a proud look on her face. Peter thought for a moment still shocked of this recent discovery. Then Amata jumped up and shouted in surprise “oh I really must be going my father will be so worried by now and I must think of a reason for my delay before he finds me” and she casually strutted to the doorway. Peter asked “what would happen if he knew you had been talking to me”? She paused with her hand at the edge of the paper and her face turned to him “well I guess I would be in big trouble and he probably wouldn’t let me come out on my own for a while. I am honestly not sure peter but I don’t want to find out any time soon” and a big smile spread across her face with a glimmer of mischief in her eye “thank you but I hope we don’t meet again” and with that she disappeared into the darkness. Peter stood there looking out the window thinking of the events, replaying it again in his head, pinching himself to make sure it had all been real. Finally he climbed back into his bed that had long grown cold and quickly drifted off to sleep with a smile across his lips and a wonderment in his heart. When he got up the next morning he had to control his happiness and was determined to act natural, as to hide any suspicion about last night. It took all he had not to run from his room in search of his father to tell him all about the family that lived below, but peter was strong and knew he had made a promise to Amata. Since it was Saturday peter had the whole day to gather supplies he though could help the small family. He was forced to stop only at meal times and when his mother asked him to go outside to play outside with his neighbor friend down the street. By the time evening had rolled around he had collected his little sisters doll accessories such as cloths and a few furniture accessories, his leggo man building bricks which he in a small bag, and various small food pieces that could fair well over time. He decided that Amata and her family probably would not come out again for a few days, so he left all his gatherings by the window with a small note. Which read “to the fairies who steal my socks, I hope these items can help you and maybe now you will leave my things alone. Peter smiled at how clever his note was discouraging any doubt he knew of the Menehune and their troublesome lives. And with a smirk he went off to bed trying to let his mind rest from the flood of questions still looming about. The next morning he awoke and glanced at his window sill but all the items were there just as the night before, he got ready for church and went about his day as usual despite the disappointment. He worked on his homework and played with his friends after lunch, and when it came time for bed he checked his window once more with no result and sleep took him once more. This dreary routine continued for many days after until one morning he woke up and checked his basket and after examining it he discovered there was a note under the one he had written. In the smallest hand writing he had ever seen but still large enough for him to squint and it read “peter, my family and I have decided to move on to another house, my father discovered of our encounter and will not allow us to continue our lives here. This is just the way things have to been he’s tried to explain rules are rules weather I like them or not. I have tried to argue reason with him because I know you will never harm us but there is nothing I can do to change his mind. I wanted to tell you goodbye so you wouldn’t worry about me and I have to thank you for all your kindness. I will never forget you peter and I will think of you often, -your dearest friend Amata”. Peter stood there as the morning light rose in the sky shinning down upon him, warming him from the chill of sadness. He could only think it must have been his fault and how difficult it would be for Amata and her family to leave. They must have been here for years going undetected, living in secret until he had discovered them. Oh how he would miss Amata he would never forget her as long as he lived. He then thought of the family his father had seen “is this what happened to them, deserting their home after one brief encounter, how many little families are out there?” his words whispered question into the lonely morning air with no one to answer them. Many questions raced through his mind as he blindly fumbled through his morning routine and the day passed by in a blink, then peter found himself back at home as if he’d never left. Distant from his family he promptly finished his homework, rapidly devoured his warm meal, and was excused from dinner early. He took a bath and brushed his teeth in record time before seven pm, dragging himself in a stupor. He sat there at his desk and debated what he would write to Amata and if she would even get the chance to read it, for all he knew they could be gone already. Finally the pen began to feverously scribble until his emotions had washed down all over the small page reading “Amata I am so honored to be your friend, I am sorry I have caused your eviction from our home and I will miss you always. Your secret will remain safe and I pray for your family’s safe journey to a new home and that your life is filled with joy and love never to be discovered again �"your dearest friend Peter. He read over the note and with a heavy heart laid it down where his gift basket had been and sulked over to his bed. As he laid awake that night he remembered the first time he had learned of the Menehune and what joy it brought and as he drifted into a slumber his troubled mind found peace. He awoke in the night his mind slow and fuzzy with sleep, he wondered what time it was and how long he had been asleep when he glanced over to his note. His head did a double take towards the window sill and to his amazement the note had disappeared. A smile stretched across his face and a joy filled his heart, even though he knew Amata was gone she would always have a piece of him with her and he laid back down puling his covers tight around him, drifting back to sleep.