PROLOGUE

In Scotland, they are the brownies. In England, they are called hobs. In Sweden, tomtes. In the Slavic language they are named the domovoi. The Spanish call them the duende. The Japanese give them the name koro-pok-guru. Many more cultures have many more names for them. They are the little helpers. Often depicted as some sort of mythical household spirit, they are diminutive humanoid creatures of mysterious origins whose purpose is to aid and assist humans in a variety different tasks.

Though their interactions with humans are well documented in the mythologies of civilizations from across the globe, most people were skeptical of their existence in recent years. It was largely believed that there was no such things as elves or gnomes or any such beings, but that they were merely conjured up in the imaginations of children with the encouragement from their smiling grandfathers. In the modern era, there was no evidence that would lead a rational adult to believe they were real.

As such, one can imagine the surprise and shock upon global humanity when these tiny people began to emerge and make themselves known once more. News agencies around the world flurried with reports of one-inch tall men and women appearing to people with offers of assistance and aid. Despite their ongoing enigma status, it became increasingly clear that they just wanted to help.

Still, many questions remained: Why had they disappeared for so many centuries? Where had they gone? What were their origins?

Most of these questions went by the wayside as this new race of humanoids integrated with human culture. They began to fill several different service roles, finding employment doing anything that would be of help to the people who stood as mountains compared to them. While at first, their motives were questioned, it became apparent that they were genuinely altruistic. They had very few needs and provided their services practically for free.

Before long, they were simply referred to as the Helpers.

CHAPTER 1:  Dr. Franjean

Kate brushed her teeth vigorously for the second time that day.

"You're brushing too hard! Didn't your other dentist warn you against that already?"

"Sorry," she gargled through a mouthful of toothpaste. "I'm just nervous."

"Don't be!" Annie assured. "Your teeth are perfect. And besides, I'm sure he's seen much worse."

Kate rinsed her mouth with water then examined her smile in the mirror once more.

"Kate, what's the point in worrying about how clean your teeth are right before going to a professional teeth cleaning?"

"I know it's ridiculous, but this is my first time I've had them cleaned by a Helper."

"Relax! Dr. Franjean is really nice. I see him three or four times a year and every time he is very helpful and professional. You'll like him."  

Kate smiled. "I'm sure I will, Annie. it's just...I've never had someone look so close at my teeth before. And the way they do it is so...up close and personal. What will he see that I can't see? Will he judge me?"

"You're unbelievable," Annie sighed. "Okay girl, open up and let me see them."

Kate opened her mouth wide and lowered her tongue as much as she could, giving Annie a good look at the interior and revealing a line of molars, canines, and bicuspids.

"Your pearly whites are pearly white! If anything, he's going to wonder why you're even there. Anyway, as I was saying, he cleans teeth better than any human can. I haven't had a cavity in years."

"The reviews online were really good, too. I'm sure it'll go fine," Kate said as she walked towards the front door of the apartment. "Alright, I think I'm going to head out. I'll drop the rent check in the mail on the way. I guess you'll be at work by the time I get back, so I'll see you tonight."

Fighting her way through Saturday afternoon traffic, Kate arrived at her destination. Dr. Franjean's office was located in a beautiful medical complex with clean modern architecture, large windows to let in the light, and a well landscaped lawn with a fountain out front. It was welcoming from the very first sight.

As she walked through the automatic doors, the receptionist greeted her with a friendly (and perfect) smile. It was apparent that she must have been regularly served by her employer.

"Hi, may I help you?"

"Yes, actually," Kate replied, "I have a 1:30 appointment with Dr. Franjean."

The receptionist quickly typed into her computer. "Katherine Olson?"

"That's me. Oh, and I filled out all my information on your website ahead of time."

"Well, that's less paperwork for you and for me!" she responded cheerily. "Have a seat and the doctor will see you in just a few minutes."

Sure enough, just as she was getting comfortable in her chair and considering flipping through one of the various magazines, a young woman wearing nurse's scrubs walked into the room and summoned her. A little surprised at how expeditious it was, she got up from her seat and followed the woman back through a corridor of pristinely clean rooms. Kate noticed that in between each room, around shoulder-level, was a little walkway contained within a clear plastic tube. Actually, she saw that there was a whole system of walkways throughout the hallway on varying heights.

"The doctor gets around this whole place that way," the woman explained helpfully, noticing where Kate's attention was.

After a short walk, she was led into a small, private room. It was nicely decorated with pretty paintings and helpful posters and charts. In the middle of the room was a typical dentist's chair. In front of it was a big mirror and a peculiar metal apparatus that appeared to be a platform of some sort surrounded by several instruments and very small levers. One of the walkways came out from the wall and the tube attached itself to it.

"Here you are," she said, "Dr. Franjean will be here for your cleaning shortly."

Kate sank into the dental patient chair and felt a little more at ease, though she still fidgeted in nervousness. She could see her reflection and used this opportunity to check her teeth one more time. She opened wide and inspected each tooth with scrutiny, contemplating whether or not to reach for some floss in her purse. As she contorted her face back and forth, she did not notice that she was no longer alone.

"I can tell already that this is going to be an easy job!" a small voice called from nearby.

"Oh!"

Kate closed her mouth and sat straight up, her face flushing with embarrassment. She looked down and there on the platform was a small man no more than an inch high. It was Dr. Franjean. She was not sure what to expect, but she was a little surprised. He was younger than she anticipated, appearing to be in his mid-30s. She had to squint to make out more of his features, as he was also smaller than she expected. She supposed that he had to be in order to do his job, though.

"Here, just give me a second," he said before pulling one of the levers. A magnifying glass appeared in front of him, giving Kate a better view. Turning on his headset, his voice was now amplified. "How's that?"

"Much better."

"Great. Anyway, sorry to startle you. You must be Kate. My name is Dr. Alex Franjean. According to your file, this is your first teeth cleaning here. Is that right?"

"That's correct," she said with a nod.

"Wonderful. It also says that Annie Crespo recommended you to us. She's a regular patient; I'll have to give her a finder's fee discount next time!"

"Yeah, she's my roommate. She always raves about this place."

"That's good to hear. Good set of chompers on that one. Since this is your first time, allow me to explain what's going to happen, as this might be a little different than your average teeth cleaning procedure."

He spoke with a voice of calm confidence and was very assuring to her. The miniature dentist made his way across the platform, which only stood only around six inches across. From a little plastic locker, he pulled out something resembling a jumpsuit. It fit snugly on over his clothes and was made of some polyurethane material, like Spandex. Wearing it made him look like the cross between a scuba diver and a superhero.

"Don't worry, it's completely sterile," he explained. "The first thing I'm going to do is take a cursory examination of your teeth and gumline. I'll walk around and check for any cavities or signs of gingivitis, but mostly I'll be looking at your overall oral health. After that, I'll scrap any plaque or tartar that I find and finish off with a good polish. Any questions?"

"Nope, sounds pretty similar to other procedures, actually," Kate said.

"Except for the Helper in your mouth..." he said in jest. "Speaking of which, one difference is that I'm going to need more of your cooperation. Over there is the vacuum tool, affectionately known as the 'spit sucker.' Obviously, I can't have you swallowing normally, so use that as much as necessary. Let's get started! Could you rest your chin on the chinrest?"

Kate complied.

Meanwhile, Dr. Franjean attached an assortment of cables and hoses to the belt of his suit. "I'm hooking myself up with a few instruments and tools. I have a water hose that I'll be spraying to clear debris. I'm also attaching a safety cable to my belt. This is strictly a precaution, but in the event that I, um...get swallowed, don't panic. Just gently pull me back up. Do it slowly, as I don't want to hurt your esophagus. And don't worry about me, I have training. But again, it rarely happens, so don't worry about it at all."

His words made Kate a little anxious. She would be very attentive and cautious.

"Mind rolling out the red carpet?"

It took Kate a second to understand what he meant. She opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue as far and as low as she could. Soon, she felt the taste of rubber as his little boots made contact with her tongue.

"Thanks. Okay, now draw your tongue back in, please."

She did so, ever so gently, as to keep its tiny passenger aboard. Soon, the dentist was completely within her cavernous mouth. With dexterity, he leapt off her tongue and onto her left back molars and started working immediately. Beginning from there, he made his way around her mouth, examining every tooth both above and below him, his headlamp allowing him to better inspect the areas in between them. Sometimes, he would be very hands-on in his approach, tapping down on a tooth's surface with his foot or rapping with his knuckles. It was a very peculiar feeling for Kate.

He shimmied along her lower incisors and before long, he made it to her other molars.

"Everything is looking great so far! You must really take care of your teeth."

"I twy," she tried to speak with her mouth open. Dr. Franjean stood back and braced himself as her tongue flopped up and down.

He chuckled. "Don't feel obligated to answer me, Miss Olson. I'm sometimes a little too conversational, but it's fine to not respond."

By now, a pool of saliva was welling up underneath her tongue, so Kate reached for the vacuum utensil. She sucked up the excess saliva, giving her mouth a relief momentarily. The dentist stood by as she did so. However, as she removed the wand from her mouth, she got a little too close to him. The leg of his jumpsuit got sucked up into the pipe, dragging him along with it and making him hop on one foot until he could shake his leg free.

Looking out of the cave's entrance and at the mirror's reflection, he could see that the entirety of her face was shocked and apologetic.

"Hey, no worries! That was my fault for not paying enough attention," he said into his headset. "Anyway, I'm glad you did that. It'll make the next step easier. I'm going to hop down and examine your gumline."

He did so and landed in the trench between her cheeks and gums; it was twice his height and his head came up to the base of her molars. The path was wet and squishy and tight, and though it felt to Kate like he was having difficulty walking, it also appeared that he was well practiced. As he made his way along, he ran his hand across her gums and applied pressure from time to time, checking for tenderness and sensitivity.

"So far so good! I'm going to take a step out for a second. One moment..."

Dr. Franjean pressed a button on his suit and the cable attached to him retracted, lifting him up into the air and out of Kate's mouth. Back on the platform, he jotted some notes down on a very small tablet. He then returned to the locker and retrieved a curved tool.

"The next thing I'm going to do is do some tooth scaling. You have some tartar buildup; it's normal, so don't worry. This here is an ultrasonic tooth scaler. I'll be using it to scrape away tartar, plaque, and other unwanted detritus. Now, it's very clear to me that you take very good care of you teeth, but there's always going to be some areas you just can't reach," he said. "That's where I come in! Any questions?"

"No, I don't think so," she answered, taking advantage of this opportunity to stretch her jaw and swallow freely. "So sorry about earlier, by the way. Are you okay?"

Dr. Franjean smiled. "Perfectly fine. It comes with the territory of being an inch high dental hygienist. Ready to open up again?"

Kate nodded and rested her chin once more, stretching her mouth wide open and allowing him to enter.

He climbed onto her tongue and walked up its length until he was back on her molars again. The tool in his hand was not much longer than his arm. It was a hooked metal pick designed for scraping, not much different than the normal human equivalent apart from that this was handheld. Beginning at the back of her mouth, he started to scrape and scratch at the tartar that had accumulated in between her teeth. In his other hand was the water wand that he used to spray away the now loosened debris.

Kate winced a little when he first started working. The process of scaling was slightly agitating and she could feel the scratching creating vibrations that resonated into each tooth and all the way into her jaw. She steadily kept her focus on watching him in the mirror and vacuuming up the excess water and saliva, all the while being careful not to repeat her mistake of getting too close.

Dr. Franjean enjoyed this part of his work, in that it came with a sense of satisfaction. He could see the difference he was making in her mouth and it was already much cleaner. She had no signs of gingivitis and he was ensuring that this would be the case for a while to come. He truly did like his job. It was innately in the nature of his people to be of any assistance. Helping other was ingrained in their culture. This, to him, was an important way of fulfilling that purpose.

Kate was an easy patient. He hoped that she would be a regular patient, because this was much better than others who flossed and brushed less regularly. Still, perfection was not really possible, and so he did not judge his patients at all. With such huge hands, we wondered how humans managed without him.

Arriving at her last two molars, Dr. Franjean bent down and examined the space between them once again. This time, he noticed some food debris lodged there. It appeared was dark green and soggy and appeared to be a piece of spinach. Spinach was quite notorious in his line of work for being able to get stuck in the deepest recesses of the mouth. He did not want to cause her undue embarrassment, so tried to be subtle in its removal. Reaching down with his hands, he tugged at the wilted leaf in an attempt to extract it manually without the use of his tool. Kate could see him working at something but wasn't sure what it was. Giving it a good yank, part of the spinach ripped off but the other half remained. Very persistent now, he grabbed a hold of it again and placed his foot against the next molar to use as leverage. He pulled as hard as he could.

Fortunately, the spinach relented and accepted its eviction from Kate's molars. However, it did so very suddenly, so much that it caught Dr. Franjean unexpected. The force of the release caused him to tumble backwards with a great force. He took a couple of steps, trying to regain his balance, until he ran out of tooth to stand on. He landed on her tongue, but the momentum kept him sliding along until he found himself resting up against one of her tonsils. The flesh was soft and helped to absorb some of the impact...but he feared the consequences.

Kate was unsure of what was happening until she felt the dentist plop down on her tongue. She could taste the rubber of his suit sliding along further into her mouth and was extremely surprised and concerned when he started to trigger her gag reflex. Her eyes shot open and she looked straight in the mirror to see what was going on. There on the very back of her tongue, resting near her uvula, was Dr. Franjean!

His training helped him to maintain his composure and to not panic, even as he watched the piece of spinach slip over the fleshy precipice and into the dark abyss below. He spoke into the microphone with very deliberate words. "Kate, listen to me. Do not swallow. I know your reflex is kicking in right now. Ignore it. You should be able to pull me out. Just don't--"

The good doctor was cut off. Apparently still in shock at the whole situation, Kate could not hear his words. Her heart rate was increasing and her mind was racing with what to do. Her body was alerting to her that something was nearing her throat and that action was required immediately lest she be in danger of choking. She panicked. Rather than doing the rational thing and listening to him, she froze up and did what was natural.

"...swallow," he said, bracing himself for what was coming.

In one swift motion, the tongue his upper body was resting on lifted up and pushed him back even further, closing him off from the rest of the world. The muscles of her throat took over and the upper esophageal sphincter opened, sending him over the edge and tumbling down into his patient's throat. He was moving down swiftly, not quite in freefall but in a controlled descent guided by Kate's esophagus.

This was not the first time Dr. Franjean had been swallowed. In fact, it was about a yearly occurrence, give or take. The first time was a practice trial in medical school and he had only just been able to subdue his fight-or-flight instinct, despite preparing for the event. By now, he knew that the best thing to do would be to go limp and to not struggle. Struggling or flailing could potentially damage or harm the patient's esophageal lining. In due time, the safety cable would run out of slack and he would be safe...at least, in theory.

Meanwhile, Kate looked on in horror as she snapped out of it in time to see her lips subconsciously close and the tiny dentist disappear. She could both watch and feel the small bulge moving through her throat and towards her stomach. The sensation was sickeningly odd, added by the feeling of the safety cable sliding further down her gullet like wet spaghetti.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed in fear.

Dr. Franjean could hear the words muffled from above over the sound of her beating heart, which he was currently passing. He was still descending into her body, much further than he desired. Normally the cable would catch by now, but apparently he had extended it much more than necessary. He generally disliked the cable and preferred the freedom to walk around, so he had given himself a lot of slack as a compromise. He was glad that he had the safety precautions today.

Eventually, the cable line gently went taut...and just in time. The doctor found himself very close to Kate's stomach. His foot was resting on the top of her cardia, the sphincter connecting the esophagus to the stomach. He did not mean to press down upon it, but he did and it opened up slightly, enough for his headlamp to shine down into the cavernous pit below him. The smell was not particularly pleasant and he could see the mushy contents that were presumably the remains of her lunch. It smelled like sushi. Fortunately, the muscular ring closed before he could grow too queasy.

"Miss Olson, can you hear me?" he spoke into the headset with the most calming voice he could use. "Don't panic, Kate. I'm fine. I need you to listen to me. Very carefully, I need you to pull out the cable. Can you do that for me? Do it very slowly and gently."

Kate was holding back the tears, but did as she was told. It was an even stranger sensation feeling him sliding up her esophagus. She was very relieved when she felt his body nearing the top of her throat again. Before long, she saw his head emerging from below. She pulled him completely out and dangled him by the cable in front of her face.

"Dr. Franjean I am so, so sorry!" she whimpered. "I didn't mean to swallow you. I just panicked!"

"Don't worry, I'm not mad! It was my fault honestly. I got a little careless and lost my footing," he said, continuing to be reassuring to her. He was fine, but he was afraid that she would be traumatized by this experience.

He paused. "...could you put me back down on the platform?"

"Oh! Yes, sorry," she said, setting him back down.

"The question is: are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I was just so afraid that I had eaten you! That was one of my fears going into this whole thing..."

"Well, if it's any consolation, you are not the first person to swallow a Helper dentist. We come prepared, hence the safety cable. It's just part of the job. Nevertheless, I'm sorry if this frightened you," said Dr. Franjean. "Are you able to continue?"

"I think so. I mean, if you're ready."

"Great! There really isn't much left for me to do. For the record, your teeth are marvelous. I mean that: they're some of the healthiest sets I've ever had come in here. You should be proud. I barely had to do any work. All that's left for me to do is some polishing and you'll be all set."

Dr. Franjean made his way back to the locker and replaced the scaler, retrieving a polishing tool in its place. It was around the same size, but instead of a hook, it ended with a soft rubber cup that spinned around. He attached the device to a nearby hose; the middle of the cup was hollow and dispensed a fine polishing paste, not too different than toothpaste.

"This won't hurt at all and it will leave your teeth feeling nice and smooth!" he said as he entered into her mouth once more.

The feeling of the dentist polishing her teeth was very relaxing and soothing for Kate. It was like each of her teeth was getting a special, intimate massage. His thoroughness was incredible. Every square millimeter was getting buffed and cleaned, resulting in a smooth finish. After he was done, she ran her tongue across her teeth and they felt like they were made out of butter.

"Well, Miss Olson, I think that just about finishes things up for today," he stepped out of his Spandex suit and returned it to the locker.

"Dr. Franjean...I have to say: my mouth is extremely happy right now!"

He smiled. "I'm glad to be of service. I'm going to finish filling out some paperwork. Despite the incident--which again, it happens from time to time--I do hope to see you back here in a few months. Keep up the regular brushing and flossing and you're smile is going to keep on shining! See Tina on the way out and she'll set you up with everything you need."

"Thanks so much. I'll definitely be back!" she said with a now-even-healthier smile.

After he saw that Kate had left the patient room, Dr. Franjean made his way back to the locker. He looked around to make sure no one was around. Seeing no one, he retrieved a small metal flask and took a sip from its amber contents. He took in a deep breath and then shook his face vigorously and limbered up.

"You do it for the people, Alex," he muttered a reminder to himself. "You're a Helper."

The air was so humid one could almost feel that they were swimming through it. The heat was especially strong and sweat-inducing that day, but that sweat would go nowhere thanks to the humidity. The nonexistent wind was of no consolation, either.

"At least it's not raining today!" Martin said cheerfully.

"It's monsoon season. Give it a couple hours."

"Don't be such a pessimist, Nadira!" he replied. "Though I'll confess, you're probably right..."

Martin had been in India long enough to know that summers there meant rain - and lots of it. There were times when it rained so heavily, he was certain the drops were larger than himself! Of course, that was hardly a rare occurrence for someone who stood just under an inch tall. He did not want to ever be caught out in the open away from shelter whenever the clouds started to downpour.

He had also learned that the days when the sun was shining were especially busy at the clinic. People would take advantage of the clear weather to visit him with hopes that they could find remedies for whatever ailed them. On any given day, he would attend to people with fevers and allergies, broken bones, itchy rashes, and stomach aches - any medical problem, even...libido issues, on occasion. People of all ages would make the walk to the modest brick building on the outskirts of town, seeking out the Helper.

Martin had been a medical missionary for over a year now and had gained quite the reputation. The early days had been a little difficult, especially as funding was still waiting to clear. At first, he met in a little canvas tent on a farmer's property, attending to one patient at a time. Nadira had been one of his first patients. Now, she was a valuable assistant and translator.

"What was it that first brought you to my tent, again?" Martin reminisced.

"A bee sting," she answered as she went through the inventory of medical supplies. Everything was well stocked and in order.

"Ah yes. A nasty sting, too. A little bit of an infection, but nothing a little bit of antibiotics couldn't treat."

Nadira smiled and continued counting. Though some of the work around the clinic could be tedious, she had learned a lot about medicine from Martin. She was not a certified nurse, but had been trained in all manner of first aid. A young woman just shy of twenty years old, she had been unsure of what to do with her life, but now was greatly interested in continuing her education and becoming a nurse. In the meantime, she helped Martin with patients, doing things that would be easier for a human to do than a Helper, like administering shots and wrapping bandages. Though his Hindi was improving, she also translated and helped relay information, especially to those who had trouble hearing his little voice.

Before long, the bells on the front door jangled, indicating that their first patient was here.

"Good morning! Come on in," Nadira called as she made her way to the foyer.

After taking down some information and filling out the required forms, she led the woman back to Martin's office. She was a woman in her mid-30s, dressed in a traditional sari of beautiful colors that stood out well against her dark brown skin and raven black hair. She wore a face of uneasiness and distress.

"This is Mrs. Banerjee. She owns a fabric stand in the market."

"Namaste! What is ailing you today?" Martin asked. He was standing at his little desk, which stood atop a human-sized table.

Her accent was thick and while he could mostly understand, it was fortunate that Nadira came in with assistance: "She says that she has had a fever and a headache for a couple of days, but has started having difficulty swallowing, as well."

"Hmm..." Martin responded, thinking on the possibilities. "Have a seat, Mrs. Banerjee. Nadira, could you give me a lift?"

Martin wished that he had some of the more high-tech equipment his Helper colleagues had access to in more urban areas. However, part of his mission was to go to areas that could not afford such facilities. It was very rewarding and purposeful, but it did mean that he had to make do with whatever was available. Instead of a platform apparatus, he had Nadira's hand.

When it appeared before him, Martin hopped onto the soft, light-brown surface of Nadira's palm. She carried him over to the patient, where he directed her to take him near her neck.

"Great, stop right here," he instructed. He reached out and touched the side of the woman's neck, pressing down on several areas. Her skin was covered in perspiration, likely from the fever (and from the outside heat).

"Just as I thought: swollen lymph nodes. There's only one way to confirm my suspicions. Mrs. Banerjee, could you please open your mouth as wide as you can?"

Nadira lifted him a little higher as the patient complied. With her other hand, Nadira made use of a tongue depressor, giving Martin a good, unobstructed view of the patient's mouth. He peered in and shined his flashlight directly at the back of her throat. It was very red, much more than the normal pink. Her tonsils were very large and inflamed, dwarfing the uvula that stood between them.

"Yep, confirmed. Mrs. Banerjee, you have strep throat," said Martin.

The woman closed her mouth as Nadira explained to her what she was suffering from. She appeared to be concerned, but Martin calmed her fears.

"I'm going to prescribe you some penicillin. It's a fast working antibiotic. Take a couple of those pills every day for the next week and you'll be back in good health in no time!"

"Thank you, Dr. Martin!" she said in English as best as she could, gratefully bowing with her hands together.

"Not a problem. Just get plenty of rest at home, avoiding contact with others for the day. We don't want that spreading around!"

By the time Mrs. Banerjee was on her way, the next patient was already entering. This one had a scheduled appointment, so there was no surprise when she came in.

"Namaste, Kavya! Please enter and have a seat!"

Nadira helped support Kavya as she walked into the room; she was heavily pregnant. A large belly protruded from the waist of the young woman. She was no more than five feet tall, so it appeared especially enormous.

Martin looked at his charts. "The baby is coming very soon, isn't it? I can't believe you're already in your eighth month! It seems like just the other day you were coming in her complaining of nausea..."

The appointment was a routine prenatal exam, one of many that she had been coming in for in the last few months, but in the weeks leading up the delivery, they would become a weekly visit. This was her first child and so she had been especially nervous at first, but every visit to Martin helped her fears to be alleviated, as it was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing.

Nadira took her measurements, including her weight and blood pressure, then helped her to sit down on the examining table.

"Have you been feeling the baby move a lot recently?" Martin asked.

"Oh, all the time!" she said smiling. "He is a kicker."

"He? You know without an ultrasound here, we can't really confirm that."

"Oh, I'm fairly certain it is a boy," she said. "I don't know why, but I just have a...feeling."

"Okay, I just don't want you to be surprised if it turns out to be a girl," he replied with an air of caution.

"If it is a girl, I will love her dearly. It does not matter in the end."

"Great! Let's see how 'he's' doing, shall we?"

Kavya reclined on the table and lifted her shirt, exposing her round belly. From Martin's perspective, it was a massive dome many times his own height. He mused that she could cover it in snow and he could ski down it (though he did not dare speak this out loud). Nadira set him down on the soon-to-be mother's stomach, where Martin began his examination.

Her navel had started to protrude in the last week, which was a good sign. He walked around the top of the mound, stooping down to feel it from time to time. He then lay prostrate on the stomach, his ear against her warm flesh. Martin could hear a few things going on from within Kavya's body. Most prominent was the sound of the digestion occurring from within her bowels, which had been very busy lately as she was eating for two.

"Any strange food cravings lately?" he asked.

The ground below him jiggled as she chuckled. "Not really. Well, actually...I usually hate pickles. But lately, I can't stop eating them!"

Martin smiled. "We'll get you a whole jar of them before your next visit."

He continued listening. In the distance, he could hear Kavya's heart beating away, sending its pulse throughout her body. However, there was another similar sound. It was softer, but just as regular and it beat just off tempo with hers.

"Kayva, you might want to listen to this. Nadira, can you set up the stethoscope?"

Nadira placed a stethoscope on Kavya's stomach near to where Martin was laying. Once she had found the right position and heard for herself, she helped Kayva sit up and listen. In a moment, her eyes welled up with tears of joy and she covered her mouth with her hand, overwhelmed with emotion. Very softly, Kavya could hear her infant's heart beating alongside her own.

As Martin looked on with contentment, he felt a tremor from below him - from within Kayva's body. It was the baby. It seemed like it knew that it was being talked about and wanted to join in the excitement. Martin could feel it moving around in Kayva's womb. She smiled, as she could feel it very well and was amused at Martin's face.

However, very unexpectedly, the baby kicked with a vigorous force. It impacted the flesh right below where Martin was resting and it knocked him so hard, he flew several inches into the air! Kavya gasped and Nadira rushed to grab Martin before he fell, but he when he landed, he tumbled down from the top of Kavya's stomach. He rolled head over heels until he crashed into the folds of her shirt at the base of her belly, resting between the lesser mounds of her breasts. Nadira quickly and carefully snatched him up.

"Martin, are you okay?" Both women were looking upon him with concern.

A little dazed, he stood up in Nadira's palm and said, "I'm fine, but I'll tell you this: Boy or girl...sign this child up for sports! We have an athlete!"

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was filled with routine appointments and check-ups. Many people were coming in with allergy problems and they were sent off with some antihistamines. Some came for vaccines, especially against malaria, which would be widespread soon with the mosquitos out in full force. Perhaps the most peculiar was when a mother brought her little boy in because he had stuck a pebble in his ear; Martin was able to extract it manually with a good shove.

Most of the patients were women and children. It is an unfortunate truth that in places such as India, women and children do not receive adequate health care, especially among the lower classes where gender inequality and patriarchy are more prevalent. Martin treated them all for very little charge, often for free. In return, many would provide clothing and food for him, though he required very little. One chicken could feed him for a month! He normally declined, but he had come to enjoy a good helping of warm naan bread.

Some time in the mid-afternoon, the business in the clinic was interrupted by the sound of a commotion outside. A young boy burst into through the doors, breathing very heavily.

"Helper Martin! Helper Martin!" he cried out frantically.

"What's going on? Is there an emergency?"

"It's my big sister! She's on the ground and not moving!"

"Quickly, boy, tell me where she is!"

The boy's home was about a half mile away. He had run the entire way there, but had worn himself out. Martin had him rest on one of the benches while he went to attend to his sister. The journey would have taken him far too long by himself.

"Nadira, you're going to have to carry me there."

Without saying a word, she swept him up and ran out the door. With all deliberate speed, Nadira ran down the dusty path to the other side of the village. In one hand, she carried a bag of medical supplies and in the other, she clasped Martin, being careful not to squeeze him too tight, but also making sure he did not accidentally slip out.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the address the boy had given them. The door had been left wide open, so the rushed right in. Just as had been described, a young woman lay spread out on the kitchen floor under the table. She was perhaps not much older than 18. It was possible that she was the main caretaker for her siblings, especially as there were no other adults in the house.

"Take me to her!"

Martin leapt from Nadira's palm and landed on the girl's body. Rushing to her chest, he placed an ear to her heart.

"Her heart is beating...slowly," he said. "But she's not breathing. Something must blocking her airway."

Martin quickly jumped up and ran up to her neck. Taking a great leap, her grabbed on to the girl's chin and lifted himself up to her face. Her mouth was slightly open, adding to his suspicions. They were confirmed when he shone his flashlight down into the dark, wet chasm. At the back of the girl's throat, he could just make out an object lodged within.

"What's wrong?" Nadira asked with great concern.

"She's choking, that's what. It's been a few minutes already and we really don't have much time left," he said. "Do you know the Heimlich maneuver?"

"The what?"

"The Heimlich maneuver! Do you know it?" he shouted sharply.

"No! I don't think so..."

"It's okay. I'll teach you soon, but I don't have time to show you right now. We need to clear this blockage immediately."

Many thoughts entered into Martin's head, but time was running out. As a Helper, he was called to do whatever it took to help a human. This was especially true of saving one's life.

"Drastic measures..." he muttered under his breath.

In a second, Nadira watched Martin disappear between the parted lips. He slid along the young woman's tongue until he stopped himself by bracing against her palate. Nadira came to assistance by retrieving a tongue depressor stick from the medical bag, inserting it into the mouth to give Martin more room to work. Carefully descending further, Martin discovered the root of the problem: a dried fig. The round fruit was not much bigger than he, but it had been lodged in the poor girl's throat.

Choking occurs when instead of going down the esophagus, food attempts to go down the trachea (the "windpipe") but gets caught, blocking the airway. Normally when food is swallowed, the epiglottis, a thin piece of cartilage, acts as a door to the trachea and closes downward, preventing choking from happening. However, if a person swallows too fast or is laughing too hard, the food can get stuck between the epiglottis and the trachea and cannot be coughed out. The obstruction must be clear very soon or the oxygen deprivation can lead to death.

Very carefully, Martin lowered himself headfirst further into the woman's throat, slipping beyond her uvula. With her laying down instead of sitting up, he would have to do this upside-down, but at least he would not have to be working the fig out against gravity. Still resting on the back of her tongue, he reached down into her throat and placed his hands on the fig. He grabbed a handful of it firmly and tried to pull it out, but it was to no avail. He was not in the right position, nor did he have enough arm strength. Its surface was also too slippery with accumulated saliva.

Taking a deep breath of the humid air, Martin knew he was running out of options--and so was the girl. He was going to have to try harder if he wanted to save her life. Despite the uneasy feeling of doing so, he dropped further into her throat. He was no longer on her tongue, but was now kneeling on her pharynx, the part of the throat that can be seen beyond the uvula. Martin could now grab the fig with both hands, rocking it back and forth and shoving it with all of his might. He stood up, lifting the epiglottis with his back. This proved to be very effective and he was able to roll the fig out of the trachea and free up the airway. With a heroic shove, he pushed it down into her esophagus where it rightly belonged.

In doing so, however, he lost his footing on the slippery floor. The epiglottis shutting on top of him and if he did not move soon, his body would be replacing the fig and she would be would choking on him! Darting away, he managed to escape being shoved down her windpipe, but instead ended up following the fig down her esophagus!

"Oh hell no!" Martin exclaimed.

He was committed to his cause, but he was not willing to end up in an eighteen-year-old Indian girl's stomach for it. Fortunately, with her head being against the floor instead of being upright, he did not have gravity pushing him down into her gullet. Though the muscles were contracting around him and trying to send him down further, he resisted and struggled his way back up. He was determined not to end up with the fig. Eventually, he was able to grasp onto one of her back molars and pull himself completely out of the throat and back into her mouth.

"Nadira, get me out of here!" he called out as loud as he can.

"Grab on to the end of the tongue depressor!" she said, then pulled him out of the mouth.

Relieved to finally be back in the open air, Martin collapsed onto Nadira's palm. He was physically exhausted. He rested there and recouped for several seconds as Nadira watched on.

"How is the girl?" he asked.

"She's breathing again. She's still asleep, but thanks to your efforts, I think she will be fine. You saved her life."

Martin smiled and sat up, wiping the sweat off his brow. "I'm just glad I could help. That's what I do, isn't it? I'm a Helper."

"And thank Vishnu for that."