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relationship with the woman was. She could have been his decorator for all I knew. There was no ring on his finger, which nowadays, didn’t mean much.
    Lost in my musings, I heard a crack sound out from the tree house followed by an ear-piercing scream.
    Adrenaline shot through me, pushing me to run full speed at the tree and up the rickety ladder.
    “Get em’, get em’, get em’!” The small boy inside shrieked, crouched in the corner.
    I took a deep breath, relieved nobody was hurt and followed his gaze to the corner, across the tiny room.
    “I tried scaring him away with that,” he explained pointing at a broom.
    The boy began to stand, he was no taller than four feet and his mop of curls made it impossible not to smile. I picked up the broom.
    Stiff with anxiety as to what he was trying to scare away, I leaned down to find a small brown mouse, trembling in the corner.
    Poor thing.
    I’d never been a fan of the little creatures, but his giant ears and terrified shivering tore at my heartstrings.
    “It’s okay. He won’t hurt you,” I said, turning back smiling. “We should get him back home though. What do you say? Will you help?”
    I watched as his concerned expression melted into a sliver of a smile tugging at his lips.
    “Will he bite me?”
    “That depends,” I smiled standing back up. “Will you bite him?”
    He giggled shaking his head. “No!”
    “Well then, I think we’re pretty safe.” I laughed. “Can you hand me that box over there?”
    He picked up the small wooden crate, I once used to hoist up treats my mother would place inside for me to enjoy without having to climb down, and handed it to me.
    Scrunching down on all fours, the boy returned to his spot in the far corner.
    I reached under the table, staring at the terrified creature, willing it to stay still. Please don’t bite me.
    Surprisingly, I was calmer than I thought possible. This was very much out of my comfort zone, but considering I had no one else to help us, it left me in charge of stepping up.
     My body tensed as I carefully reached the box out—sympathizing with the horrified mouse, whose eyes were bulged out, frozen in fear—and dropped it over him.
    “You got him!”
    “We still need to get him outside though.” I glanced around, searching for something to slide under the box so I could lift it up, and found a square tin sign that had hung on the wall for years before it rusted across the top. My mother had it made for me; it read ‘Cassie’s Castle.’
    “Can you hand me that?” I pointed.
    The boy stepped forward and handed me the sign. This time however, he remained at my side and even squatted down for a better view.
    He began clapping; a giant grin spread over his tiny face when I slid the sign under the box and pressed it to the bottom as I slowly crawled back.
    “Will he fall out?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
    “Not if I keep this pressed under here,” I explained. “Let’s go down and put him in the forest.”
    The climb down the ladder was not one I’d forget anytime soon. It was a struggle to maneuver holding tightly to the box while attempting to hide my terrified anxiety at the thought of the mouse running up my arm if I made a wrong move. Within minutes, we climbed down the ladder and stood at the edge of the tree line in my backyard.
    “Ready?” I asked, watching him bounce up and down nodding his head.
    Adorable.
    Leaning down I placed everything on the ground and stepped back.
    “You can do the honors,” I said, smiling down at him.
    “Really?” His eyes grew wide with surprise.
    “Yeah, all you have to do is lift the box,” I said, noticing his apprehension.
    He stepped forward, stood over the box, and glanced back at me. I gave him a reassuring smile and his body noticeably relaxed.
    When he pulled off the box, the mouse shot straight at him. His mouth flew open in a giant circle, spilling out a laughable shriek.
    The mouse continued past him and out into the