Jack (3 page)

Mama and Annabella. I pulled myself up from the branches, ignoring the throbbing pain in my head. Were they hurt? Had the tree crushed them?

The giant stomped toward the house. No doubt the cries had alerted him to a potential meal.

MoooooOOOOOoooo!

The giant paused near the barn, searching for the cow he had missed. He got down on his hands and knees and crawled around, sniffing. My heart pounded. My hands grew clammy.

The giant tore off the barn roof. Planks cracked and flew in all directions.

MooooOOOOOooooo!

I needed to distract him. I had to get him away from Papa. I rummaged through my pockets and pulled out my sling and a green bean from dinner. It was all I had. I swung the bean around and around and let it fly…. The bean landed in the giant's ear. He didn't move. It wasn't big enough to bother him.

MoooooOOOOOoooo!

The giant dug through the barn like he was searching for crawly critters under a log. A smile stretched over his face. He reached inside and pulled out the newborn calf. It mewled pitifully. But that was not all. Something else was clinging to the calf. Extra legs dangled from its middle. Papa was going up and up with the calf, too high to let go.

No. Not Papa.

I climbed down the tree as fast as I could. “Papa!” I shouted. “Papa!”

“Jack!” Papa searched for me, still clinging to the calf. He couldn't see me. “Take care of your mama and sister, Jack!” And with that, the giant stuffed Papa into his pocket.

“Papa! Papa! Hey, giant! Take me too! That's my papa! Take me too!”

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The giant couldn't hear me over the crash of his own footsteps. The other giant was coming back now, his sack bulging with the sharp corners of crates. They both returned to the ropes.

I searched for a stone—one big enough to hurt a giant—and whirled my sling, but the giants were too far away now. Too high. They got smaller and smaller until they disappeared in the clouds, with my papa in a giant pocket. There was a flash, a showering of dirt, and then…

BOOM!

Boom.

Boom.

T
he sky closed, and another dirt shower poured over my head.

“Papa!” I shouted. “PAPAAAAAA! Hey, giant! Come and get me! Don't you want me too? I'm Jack! You're supposed to take
me.
”

I jumped up and up and up. I climbed to the loft of the roofless barn and jumped as high as I could, but it wasn't high enough.

Rope. If the giants could come down here with ropes, then maybe I could climb up to the sky on one.

I waded through the straw and rubble of the barn
until I found a rope. I also found a big hook in a jumble of Papa's tools and tied it to the end. I climbed back up to the loft and swung the rope around and around with the hook on the end and threw it as high as I could. It sailed up and up toward the dark sky. I thought it might catch onto the moon, but then it came down with a thud. I tried again. I swung it faster and threw it harder. I did it again and again until my arms were so weak I could hardly swing the rope.

I couldn't reach the top of the sky. I couldn't get to Papa.

“Help!” called a tiny, pitiful voice. Annabella! I had nearly forgotten about Mama and Annabella! They were still in the house, with a tree sticking through the side. I ran toward them. The tree had crushed one corner of the roof and torn through the wall next to the door. I crawled through a gap between the branches. Inside, Annabella was on the floor, sobbing next to Mama, who was trapped under a pile of wood and rubble.

“Jack,” said Mama. “Oh, my boy! Thank goodness you're safe.” She tried to lift herself up but fell back. “Where's your papa? Where's Henry? Can you get him for me?”

I shook my head and looked down at the floor. “He's gone.”

Mama fell silent, and then her eyes got all shiny and her chin began to tremble.

“Papa's gone? Gone where?” said Annabella.

“The giants took him,” I said. “And the newborn calf.”

“Jack, please. Not now,” Mama pleaded.

“But…didn't you see it? The giants threw that tree!” I pointed toward the hole in the house. “They came down from the sky and took all our animals and our food and…and…Papa!”

Annabella's hands flew to her mouth. “Are the giants going to eat him?”

“No! I'm going to find him first.”

“I'll help. I can find him, too,” said Annabella.

“You're not big enough,” I said.

“I am so big enough!” she shouted.

“Enough, both of you,” Mama groaned. “Please, no talk. I need your help. I need to get this wood off my leg.” Mama ground her teeth and tried to sit up. Her face was white as wool.

I tried to lift the pile of wood off her, but my arms were limp and weak from all my throwing. “It's too heavy.”

“One at a time, Jack,” said Mama. “Start with the top and work your way down.”

I lifted one piece and slid it off the top of the pile. I lifted another piece and another and another until I was sweating and my arms were shaking, but eventually I dug Mama out. Her leg was purple and swollen, and a big bleeding gash ran down her shin to her ankle. Annabella and I both cringed and sucked in our breath.

“Help me up, Jack.”

I offered my arm, but when Mama tried to move her leg, she screamed.

She released my arm and took slow, steady breaths through her teeth. “I think it's broken,” she said.
“Annabella, I need you to be a strong girl and help your mama.”

Annabella came to the other side, and together we were able to lift Mama and help her to the bed. She whimpered as we propped her leg up on some pillows. Annabella inspected Mama's leg as though she were a doctor. “I don't think it's broken too badly, Mama. I'll boil some water so we can clean the cuts.” Annabella quickly went to work. She built a fire, boiled water, and tended to Mama's leg, while I just stood there feeling numb and weak and hollow. All I could think of was Papa.

“We must search for your father,” said Mama. “He could be nearby, injured. He could be stuck under a branch, or the wind might have carried him high up in a tree. Maybe he can't get down.”

That much was true. It was pretty hard to get down from the sky.

“Jack,” said Mama, “you must go to the village and ask for help. Gather a search party. Everyone and anyone willing to help.”

Annabella and I looked at each other. She shook her head at me, and I knew she meant I shouldn't argue with Mama. I shouldn't tell her that Papa had been
taken
by giants, because she would not believe me. Mama thought the tales were all hogwash, and what was the use of telling her otherwise? She wouldn't know how to get to the giants any more than I did.

So I went to the village. The road had been trampled by giant footsteps, and I had to climb over uprooted
trees and branches. When I got to the village, this is what I found:

Nothing and no one.

There were no horses or mules or chickens or goats. No cows or sheep. There was no mill. There was no cobbler's shop or smithy or bakery. All the shops and houses had been ripped up and taken away, leaving gaping holes in the ground.

“Hello…?” I called out, but no one answered. Not the blacksmith or the cobbler or Baker Baker. Not the Widow Francis and her thirteen children or Horace and his pigs. I imagined he'd held on to Cindy the way Papa had held on to our calf, and the giants had just carried them up.

I sat down in the hole where the bakery should have been. The wind blew. It swirled the dust and lifted the faintest smell of fresh bread and sugar. What was I going to tell Mama now? Not only was there no one in the village to help, there was no village.

In the meantime, Papa could be in a cage or a dungeon now—just waiting for the giants to get hungry….

Blurp-da-durr! Blah-durp-da-duuuurp!

A horn blew in the distance. It sounded official, like someone important was coming. I looked down the road and saw a waving flag, and a knight riding toward the village!

In the stories of my seven-greats-grandpa Jack, he befriends a brave knight, who helps him fight the giants. It seemed fitting that a knight in shining armor, riding a noble steed, should come now to assist me, except as
the knight drew closer, I noticed that his armor was not exactly shining—it was dingy and rusty. And his noble steed was a swaybacked mule that kept bucking and veering off course.

“Whoa there! Ho, you lowly beast!” shouted the knight. “Heed my command!” The mule bellowed and bucked so hard, the knight nearly fell to the ground with a clatter. The knight quickly stood and bowed before me. His rusty armor creaked with every move.

“Lowly villagers!” He spoke as though an entire village was present to hear him. “I, Sir Bluberys the Chivalrous, have come to protect thee from giants who roam the land, attacking men, women, and children. Be warned, they will pillage your farms, steal your animals, and wreak terror and havoc, but never fear! I shall protect thee with my strength and valor!” He lifted his creaking arms as though he was expecting a great cheer.

“The giants already came,” I said.

The knight looked down in surprise. “What's that you say? Speak up, peasant boy! My noble ears need a gallant voice!”

I nearly shouted at him. “The giants already came! They raided the village and took our food and animals, and they took my papa.”

“Did they truly?” The knight blinked and looked around, taking in the evidence that giants had indeed already been to our village. He dropped his arms. “Drat! I thought we were fifty miles ahead of them at least.”

“Have you fought any giants?” I asked. “Have you seen them?”

“Oh yes, hundreds!” said Sir Bluberys. “The last giant I met tried to bite my head off, but I chopped his off first.” He drew a rusty sword that didn't look sharp enough to cut cheese. “The giants practically flee when they hear my name! That's probably why I missed them. They knew Sir Bluberys the Chivalrous was near and fled for their lives!”

“Where do they live?” I asked.

“Oh…here and there.” Clearly he had no idea. “Is there any place to get some good grub around here? Stew? Pie? A little bread and butter perhaps for a chivalrous knight and his noble steed? I'm famished!” Sir Bluberys thumped his metal belly and looked around, as if he were expecting a feast to appear. What a blubberhead. I needed to get rid of this idiot fast.

“There's another village a short distance that way.” I pointed down the road. “They probably have lots of food. Maybe you can catch up to the giants before they attack.”

“Oh yes, of course!” Sir Bluberys tried to mount his mule, but it kept shifting and turning, so by the time he finally got on, he was backward. “Farewell, lowly peasants!” He waved as though bidding farewell to a large, cheering crowd and not just one disappointed boy. “I am Sir Bluberys the Chivalrous, sworn to defend and protect the meek and lowly. I will save ye from the giants!”

“Oh! And will you please look out for my papa?” I shouted after him. “His name is Henry!”

“Of course! Of course!” said Sir Bluberys. “I always rescue the fair maidens!”

The mule stumbled in one of the giant footprints, and Sir Bluberys pitched forward and grabbed onto its bottom. It bellowed again and then started trotting down the road with Sir Bluberys hanging backward and sideways.

I
trudged home, worn and hopeless. In the daylight I could see our farm more clearly. It was a wreck, worse than Miss Lettie's cabbage field. I gazed at the ruined barn, wishing I had been inside last night. It always should have been me to face the giants, not Papa.

“It really does look like a storm hit,” said a small voice behind me. I turned to see Annabella. She had a piece of bread in her hands and held it out to me. I took it, suddenly realizing how hungry I was.

“It was giants,” I said. “I saw them.”

“I believe you, Jack,” she said, and that comforted me some, but not enough. What did it matter if my scrawny little sister believed me? What could she do?